tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65882472167776057042024-03-08T14:07:30.390-05:00Bryn Mawr Classical ReviewUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger7663125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-38393675278011004652020-03-16T10:52:00.002-04:002020-03-16T10:54:38.833-04:00BMCR has moved to a new platformBMCR has a new platform:<br />
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We will be retiring this blog at some point in the near future (although we will leave it up until we have migrated comments on this site over to the new site). CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-65533359985899884202020-02-13T23:05:00.001-05:002020-02-13T23:05:56.122-05:002020.02.30Ine Jacobs (ed.), <i>Asia Minor in the Long Sixth Century: Current Research and Future Directions.</i> Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2019. Pp. viii, 245. ISBN 9781789250077. £38.00. <p>Reviewed by Andreas Külzer, Austrian Academy of Sciences, Division of Byzantine Research (Andreas.Kuelzer@oeaw.ac.at) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-30.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=EXzKDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a> [Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]</p> <p>Especially in the first millennium, Asia Minor was one of the core regions of the Byzantine Empire, a distinctive peninsula with countless resources that were important for the prosperity of the state and its capital Constantinople. The sixth century on the other hand, the period of transition from late Antiquity to the early Middle Ages, belongs to the often discussed research topics in academic literature. The combination of both subjects, the geographical and the chronological one, in a single book title will surely arouse curiosity among academics; many scholars will have a look at this book. To say it in advance: they will not be disappointed, even high expectations are met. All in all, the present collection of thirteen essays written by historians and archaeologists on different aspects of the subject is a distinguished one.</p> <p>The editors Hugh Elton and Ine Jacobs start their informative <i>Introduction</i> (1–8) with general methodological considerations concerning the aspects of space and time: The subdivision of history by using the category "Centuries" is sometimes problematic because of its randomness, people must be aware of the teleological aspects in their analyses. The inclusion of Thrace and the empire's capital Constantinople into the term Asia Minor is correctly justified with realities of the Byzantine administration (1, 3). Assignments and groupings of the thirteen essays follow; the editors present some interactions between single articles. Most of them, six in number, are dealing with the well documented area of the diocese <i>Asiana</i> in the west of Asia Minor. One of them is the following text, written by Inge Uytterhoeven, "A change of appearance. Urban housing in Asia Minor during the sixth century" (9–28). It is concentrated on settlements in Western Anatolia, among them the cities of Sardis, Hierapolis, Ephesus and Sagalassos, but also the rural area in between. In these spaces, the urban elites built luxurious residences during the fourth and fifth centuries AD, spacious and well decorated. From the sixth century onwards however, a good number of these houses changed their character, in the countryside as well as in the cities. Their aristocratic atmosphere was debased, they lost their exclusiveness and most of their decoration elements when craft businesses and taverns were set up in parts of these buildings. Henceforward, members of the lower classes lived side by side with aristocrats. This seems to be an interesting insight into the social history of that period and the former understanding of private and public space. Regardless of collecting the material, the value of this essay lays in its deep analysis. The change in space was not a single phenomenon but a supra-regional one, common in vast landscapes in Western Anatolia.</p> <p>The essay of Ine Jacobs, "Pagan-mythological statuary in sixth-century Asia Minor" (29–43) deals also with aspects of public space: using the example of Sagalassos, the author emphasizes the fact that even in the sixth century pagan statues were existent in different parts of the city. Despite of all the well-known destructions, several statues survived during that time, some of them Christianized by adding appropriate attributes, some of them still reused in another context. Revisions and relocations of statutes were common. I agree with the author's statement that statues were not only a passive element of city decoration. Quite the opposite, they own an active function in urban space, even if this is difficult to realize nowadays. This applies not only for Sagalassos and Pisidia, where our knowledge is rich due to the excellent excavations and the various archaeological discoveries, but also for other cities in Asia Minor (esp. 29, 39–40).</p> <p>In his article "Sixth-century Asia Minor through the lens of hagiography: ecclesiastical power and institutions in city and countryside", Efthymios Rizos underlines the importance of Asia Minor for the formation of the literary genre of hagiography (45–61); various works have been written here, many settlements, cities and villages are mentioned in the texts. There is no better documentation of rural life in late Antiquity; places like Sykeon in Galatia or Sion in Lycia became famous thanks to hagiography. Important is the observation that the main characters of the <i>vitae</i> were city-based bishops during the fourth and fifth centuries; in the sixth century however, the situation changed and the founders of monasteries, often based in the country-side, became the leading actors in the texts. The author's ease of handling the sources is impressive; reading of this essay is exciting and informative.</p> <p>The article of Kristina Terpoy, "Studying Asia Minor in the sixth century. Methodological considerations for an economic analysis" uses three case studies in Isauria / Cilicia, in Lycia and in Northern Asia Minor to visualize that economic analyses of late Antique Anatolia at large are possible, regardless of dissimilar contemporary sources, miscellaneous research situation and regional differences that, however, do not count as a whole (63–78).</p> <p>The essay of Emanuele E. Intagliata, "Forgotten borderlands. Northeastern Anatolia in the sixth century and its potential for frontier studies" focus on the wide but mountainous and in late Antiquity less inhabited landscapes of the diocese Pontica (79–90). The text is dedicated to the Byzantine defense system in so-called <i>Tzanica</i>, an area located by Procopius of Caesarea in the east of modern Trabzon. Just one of the seven fortresses mentioned by the historian can be identified assuredly. A lot of academic work remains to be done, as the author stresses out correctly. However, the Viennese research project <i>Tabula Imperii Byzantini</i>, dedicated to historical geography of the Eastern Mediterranean, will start its work in the region in the year 2020 and should help to clear the picture.</p> <p>The essay of Hugh Elton, "The countryside in southern Asia Minor in the long sixth century" is dedicated to the wide area between Lycia in the West and Cilicia in the East (91–107). Using various data, written in a pleasant and erudite style, the text emphasizes the massive changes in the countryside due to Christianization and, later in the seventh century, due to the raids by Persians and Arabs. The importance of the Justinianic plague in the 540ies was obviously smaller for the countryside than for the coastlines, but the last word in this discussion is not spoken yet. The author's statements can be confirmed by the comprehensive books of Hild, Friedrich and Hansgerd Hellenkemper, <i>Kilikien und Isaurien</i>. Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences 1990, and Hellenkemper, Hansgerd and Friedrich Hild, <i>Lykien und Pamphylien</i>. Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences 2004, both with more than a thousand pages, providing further details concerning the villages and local centers in the countryside.</p> <p>The rich information originating from these volumes is incorporated into the following essay, written by Angela Commito and dealing with "The cities of southern Asia Minor in the sixth century" (109–141). While urban development in the seventh century is a matter of intense academic discussion, the situation in the sixth century seems to be quite clear. The author underlines in her erudite and well-documented text the importance of sacral buildings and fortification walls as dominant monuments in urban landscapes, furthermore the importance of spoliation. The different city plans added to the text enable the reader to follow her argumentation easily. For sure, this is one of the best articles in a marvelous collection.</p> <p>The following article by Hugh Jeffrey, "Aspects of sixth-century urbanism in western Asia Minor" leads to one of the most important landscapes of the Byzantine Empire, provided with various central market towns like Ephesus, Miletus, Sardis or Hierapolis (143–165). In close interaction with its predecessor, the text refers to the development of Christian ecclesiastical architecture, including, among others, references to the church of St. John in Philadelphia, modern Alaşehir, and the so- called building D in Sardis. Both structures were important for the further development of church building in Anatolia. Synagogues like the ones in Sardis or in Priene were usual components of the urban landscapes; the author underlines also the importance of bathhouses or private residences. At this point, a connection is established to the above mentioned essay by I. Uytterhoeven. The author succeeds well in illustrating the numerous phenomena in a comparatively short text.</p> <p>James Crow starts his essay "Constantinople in the long sixth century" (167–180) with a clear definition concerning the "long sixth century," which he dates comprehensibly from the beginning of the reign of Emperor Anastasius I in 491 until the great siege of Constantinople by Persians and Avars in 626 (167). Skillfully, the author highlights aspects of the city's history, including the impact of the progressive Christianization on the local building stock. Concerning this article it should be emphasized again that complicated issues such as urban development are presented in a compact and well-balanced manner. The incorporated academic literature is rich and adequate, merely concerning the hinterland of Constantinople one could add Külzer, Andreas, <i>Ostthrakien (Eurōpē) </i>. Vienna: Austrian Academy of Sciences 2008; concerning the harbors Daim, Falco, <i>Die byzantinischen Häfen Konstantinopels</i>. Mainz: Roman Germanic Central Museum 2016.</p> <p>To round out the volume, three regional studies are added at the end: Owen Doonan, "Industrial agriculture, intensification and collapse in Sinope and its territory during the late Roman / early Byzantine periods" (181–195) refers to an important settlement in the diocese <i>Pontica</i>; Andrew Wilson, "Aphrodisias in the long sixth century" (197–221) and Beate Böhlendorf-Arslan, "The glorious sixth century in Assos. The unknown prosperity of a provincial city in western Asia Minor" (223–245) are dealing with urban centers in the diocese <i>Asiana</i>. All of these settlements are different in structure, design and interaction with the surrounding areas.</p> <p>As mentioned in the beginning, the book is a distinguished one; the individual essays are well-informed and erudite. Each is referenced with an individual, mostly exhaustive bibliography. Some additional thoughts: an overview of the articles at the end of the book, which might have served to introduce the whole topic, would have been useful but is missing. The lack of a general index is regrettable; it makes it more difficult to use the valuable information within this important essay collection. Furthermore, a compilation of the <i>Future Directions</i> mentioned in the title would have been welcome. In its current form, the aspects have to been worked out from the individual articles; they are therefore particular and topical. A summary from a more global perspective, similar to the <i>Introduction</i>, would have been nice. However, these remarks are not intended to reduce the fundamental value of this remarkable book.</p> <p></p> <h4>Authors and titles</h4><p></p> <p></p> Chapter 1. Introduction<br> Chapter 2. A change of appearance. Urban housing in Asia Minor during the sixth century. Inge Uytterhoeven<br> Chapter 3. Pagan-mythological statuary in sixth-century Asia Minor. Ine Jacobs<br> Chapter 4. Sixth-century Asia Minor through the lens of hagiography: ecclesiastical power and institutions in city and countryside. Efthymios Rizos<br> Chapter 5. Studying Asia Minor in the sixth century. Methodological considerations for an economic analysis. Kristina Terpoy<br> Chapter 6. Forgotten borderlands. Northeastern Anatolia in the sixth century and its potential for frontier studies. Emanuele E. Intagliata<br> Chapter 7. The countryside in southern Asia Minor in the long sixth century. Hugh Elton<br> Chapter 8. The cities of southern Asia Minor in the sixth century. Angela Commito<br> Chapter 9. Aspects of sixth-century urbanism in western Asia Minor. <br> Hugh Jeffery<br> Chapter 10. Constantinople in the long sixth century. James Crow<br> Chapter 11. Industrial agriculture, intensification and collapse in Sinope and its territory during the late Roman/early Byzantine periods. Owen Doonan<br> Chapter 12. Aphrodisias in the long sixth century. Andrew Wilson<br> Chapter 13. The glorious sixth century in Assos. The unknown prosperity of a provincial city in western Asia Minor. Beate Böhlendorf-Arslan<br> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-33039627384567757452020-02-13T22:46:00.000-05:002020-02-13T22:47:00.721-05:002020.02.29Emanuela Bianchi, Sara Brill, Brooke Holmes (ed.), <i>Antiquities Beyond Humanism. Classics in Theory.</i> Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2019. Pp. viii, 310. ISBN 9780198805670. $100.00. <p>Reviewed by Colin C. Smith, University of Colorado—Boulder (colin.smith-1@colorado.edu) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-29.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p></p> <a href="http://books.google.com?id=su-MDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a><br> [Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]<br> <p>According to the traditional narrative, humanism begins in the Renaissance as a return to the distinctly Greco-Roman conception of the primacy of the human subject. While this view is not entirely misguided, an overcommitment to it entails the danger of missing the senses in which the human subject for the ancients is not primary, but instead is positioned within a broader continuum that also includes inorganic matter, nonhuman animals, and the gods. Thus conceived, humans are but one among the beings and forces within the agential cosmos, which is itself possessed of the same <i>nous</i> that characterizes the human. </p> <p>In <i>Antiquities Beyond Humanism</i>, scholars working in and among philosophy, classics, political theory, and comparative literature explore a series of topics regarding the interactions between ancient thought and the turn enacted through contemporary posthumanism and new materialism to consider this neglected aspect of ancient thinking. To be sure, the book is of significant interest to those who study subjects in continental philosophy like psychoanalysis, feminist theory, queer theory, and object-oriented ontology. But this excellent volume also should be read by those with broader interest in antiquity, as it demonstrates ways in which the ancient texts continue to be of the greatest value to promising new movements in contemporary thinking.</p> <p>The book is an installment in Oxford University Press's Classics in Theory series, in which critical theory is brought to bear on classical studies. Having begun as the conference "Posthuman Antiquities" at New York University in November 2014, the volume includes an introduction, and thirteen further chapters divided between three sections. The authors touch on subjects taken from throughout Greco-Roman antiquity, including Homer, the Presocratics, Attic tragedy, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, the Stoics, Hellenistic poetry, and Ovid. Indeed, the scope of ancient subjects covered is among the book's many virtues.</p> <p>In the Introduction, the editors begin by reviewing the putative influence of antiquity on Renaissance humanism, before turning to consider the historical interpretations undergirding the recent posthumanistic reception of antiquity, including the eighteenth- and nineteenth-century German neo-humanists, E. R. Dodd's <i>The Greeks and the Irrational</i> (1951) and its reception among the postwar French classicists influenced by structuralism, the feminist turn among classicists in the 1970s and 1980s, the critical theories of Foucault, Deleuze, and Guattari, and the complicated role of the ancients in recent critical feminist thinking represented by figures like Elizabeth Grosz, Judith Butler, and Luce Irigaray. </p> <p>Part 1 is titled 'Posthuman Antiquities?' and includes four chapters through which this very possibility is interrogated. It begins with Adriana Cavarero's "The Human Reconceived: Back to Socrates with Arendt." Cavarero takes up a very different conception of posthumanism than that which will follow in later papers, by focusing on the totalitarian eradication of human subjectivity represented by Nazi posthumanism. She addresses Hannah Arendt's view that so-called 'Platonic metaphysics' inaugurates the "abstract ontology" that "prevents the metaphysical tradition from thinking a 'pure' concept of politics" and thereby finds its conclusion in the radical evil of Nazi posthumanism (34-5). She distinguishes this from Arendt's conception of Socrates and his imperative to 'know thyself' as it offers a critical response to the social conditions that allow for banal evil represented by Eichmann, by indicating the wonder (<i>to thaumazein</i>) of human plurality. Ramona Naddaff continues the discussion of Socrates with "Hearing Voices: The Sounds in Socrates' Head." Naddaff is interested in Socrates' daimonic voice, particularly with regard to the way it connects Socrates with the more-than-human realm of the divine. Socrates contains both himself and an 'other,' understood as a divine moral legislator beyond merely human rationality, and thus Naddaff situates the philosopher as the paradigmatic posthuman. Next, Michael Naas writes in "Song and Dance Man: Plato and the Limits of the Human" on the Athenian Stranger's odd separation in the <i>Laws</i> of the human from the nonhuman through the notions of singing and dancing. Naas argues that the human conceived as a <i>zōion echon mousikēn kai choreian</i> implies the distinctly human share of the greater cosmic order represented by music and dance, with music and dance acting as the kinds of measurement through which humans respond to the structure of nature. In "Tragedy and the Posthuman," Miriam Leonard considers Greek conceptions of the human and the monstrous through Attic tragedy, and especially its depiction of Oedipus. Leonard uses the psychoanalytic theory of Freud and Lacan, along with some Nietzschean concepts, to conclude that Oedipus is "<i>both</i> a <i>pharmakos</i> — a sacrificial animal — and a <i>tyrannos</i> — a divine king" (92). Oedipus thus is more and less than human, capturing the sense in which Greek tragedy indicates the larger spectrum of possibility in which the human is positioned.</p> <p>Part 2 includes four chapters dealing with 'Alternate Zoologies,' or the fluidity among categories of living beings and natural forces. The first is Sara Brill's "Aristotle's Meta-Zoology: Shared Life and Human Animality in the <i>Politics</i>", which considers Aristotle's political and biological thought. Brill concludes that the human condition entails a radical intensification of non-human animal sociality, leading to an account of the political as the place (<i>topos</i>) in which the 'living-together' (<i>syzēn</i>) of human life (<i>bios</i>) unfolds. Kristin Sampson argues in "Sounds of Subjectivity or Resonances of Something Other" that the meaning of 'voice' (<i>phōnē</i>) is broadly conceived as a natural force in Homer before later becoming tied to the human individual in thinkers like Plato. Sampson bases this thesis on the notion of 'corporeality without body,' or the view (influenced by Bruno Snell and Hermann Fränkel) that the Homeric subject "has" neither body nor soul but instead is a kind of corporeality that lacks an underlying entity or substance. Sampson unpacks this compelling account through a consideration of voice broadly, a thorough review of its appearances in the Homeric texts, and a subsequent comparative discussion of the role of voice in Plato's <i>Protagoras</i>. In "Shared Life as Chorality in Schiller, Hölderlin, and Hellenistic Poetry," Mark Payne addresses a kind of poetic mediation between the human and non-human realm that he calls 'chorality' by considering some works of Schiller, Wordsworth, and Hölderlin alongside the <i>Hymns</i> of Callimachus and the Homeric "Hymn to Delian Apollo." Payne argues that chorality represents a kind of self-recognition through participation in a chorus, made possible through intersubjectivity and expanded sociality (141). Concluding the section, Giulia Sissa offers in "Apples and Poplars, Nuts and Bulls: The Poetic Biosphere of Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i>" a discussion of the principles of change, flux, and stability at play in the speech of the character Pythagoras of Samos. From this, Sissa develops an account of the cosmos as the space in which that which is present remains despite losing its identity, or what she calls a posthuman kind of becoming. Sissa unpacks this with close reference to the notion of food and the kind of anthropocentric vegetarianism for which the Pythagoras character advocates.</p> <p>Part 3, 'Anthro-Excentric,' comprises five papers on non-human forces and their emergent and interactive senses. In "Hyperobjects, OOO, and the Eruptive Classics—Field Notes of an Accidental Tourist," James I. Porter considers the relationship between the contemporary movements like OOO (object-oriented ontology) and speculative realism, and ancient thinking as represented by Heraclitus, Empedocles, Seneca, and Lucretius. After offering a crisp and helpful review of the contemporary theory, Porter turns to the ancient texts to argue that "ancient selves are ongoing <i>emergencies</i>, ongoing experiments in living on the edge and <i>in extremis</i>, the aim of which is to find an ethical relationship not in the first instance to one's self, but rather to the blank contingency and indifference of the world in all its absolute and irrevocable necessity" (203). Also dealing with emergence, Emanuela Bianchi argues in "Nature Trouble: Ancient <i>physis</i> and Queer Performativity" for a conception of nature (<i>physis</i>) in ancient thinking as an emergent performativity on the model of Butler's thinking, albeit not framed with reference to the human as in Butler. Bianchi argues instead that nature on this model is a performative field of coming to be and passing away, and is furthermore queer insofar as the non-human entities composing nature "continually play hide and seek, withdraw and manifest, to and with one another, and to and with us" (229). Bianchi draws on a wide range of theorists including Butler, Irigaray, John Sallis, and, more critically, Grosz and Karen Barad, to develop her account.</p> <p>In "On Stoic Sympathy: Cosmobiology and the Life of Nature," Brooke Holmes offers a rich and thorough discussion of the role of sympathy in Stoic metaphysics. She describes sympathy for the Stoics as a kind of "film of becoming" that makes possible and organizes the web of causes binding together the whole of Nature (240). Holmes draws on modern thinkers like Deleuze and Grosz while also working closely with the ancient texts to develop her view of Stoic sympathy as speaking to the double perspective of living beings insofar as they are open to external change from without and yet possessed of internal nature and mindfulness. Holmes' argument for sympathy as a superordinate cosmic principle will certainly be of much interest to anyone working on the Stoics. In "Immanent Mmateral: Figures of Time in Aristotle, Bergson, and Irigaray," Rebecca Hill offers a new account of the notion of time in Aristotle as constituted in a meaningful way by difference, which both <i>chronos</i> and <i>kinēsis</i> necessarily entail, and with close reference to gender. Hill conceives of this not as a challenge to the traditional view of the connection between time and motion in Aristotle's thinking, but instead as an account of a more primordial understanding on which it depends and that has meaningful similarities to the understandings of time found in Bergson and Irigaray. Claudia Baracchi's chapter "In Light of <i>eros</i>" concludes the section and the volume. Here Baracchi considers <i>eros</i> as a cosmic principle that undergirds and precedes scientific knowledge (<i>epistēmē</i>) and discourse (<i>logos</i>). With reference to key passages in Aristotle's <i>Metaphysics</i> and Plato's <i>Symposium</i>, Baracchi interprets <i>eros</i> as a principle of creation and destruction that indicates a kind of androgyny capable of jointly sustaining creation and destruction.</p> <p>Among the volume's many virtues, I am struck in particular by the boldness among all authors in staking out interpretively ambitious stances that offer great potential reward. At times I found myself wanting some authors to go into more depth with some of the ancient texts they cite to show exactly how they take a given point to be at play therein. Ultimately, the book offers occasion to rethink human positioning in light of the horrific errors regarding self-conception in our own time by returning to the ancient view of the interconnected cosmos in which the human is merely a part, and one materially dependent on the whole.</p> <p></p> <h4>Authors and titles</h4><p></p> <p></p> 1. Introduction / Emanuela Bianchi, Sara Brill, and Brooke Holmes<br> <br> Part 1: Posthuman Antiquities?<br> 2. The human reconceived: back to Socrates with Arendt / Adriana Cavarero<br> 3. Hearing voices: the sounds in Socrates' head / Ramona Naddaff<br> 4. Song and dance man: Plato and the limits of the human / Michael Naas<br> 5. Precarious life: tragedy and the posthuman / Miriam Leonard<br> <br> Part 2: Alternative Zoologies<br> 6. Aristotle's meta-zoology: shared life and human animality in the <i>Politics</i> / Sara Brill<br> 7. Sounds of subjectivity or resonances of something other / Kristin Sampson<br> 8. Shared life as chorality in Schiller, Hölderlin, and Hellenistic poetry / Mark Payne<br> 9. Apples and poplars, nuts and bulls: the poetic biosphere of Ovid's <i>Metamorphoses</i> / Giulia Sissa<br> <br> Part 3: Anthro-Excentric<br> 10. Hyperobjects, OOO, and the eruptive classics – field notes of an accidental tourist / James I. Porter<br> 11. Nature trouble: ancient <i>physis</i> and queer performativity / Emanuela Bianchi<br> 12. On Stoic sympathy: cosmobiology and the life of nature / Brooke Holmes<br> 13. Immanent maternal: figures of time in Aristotle, Bergson, and Irigaray / Rebecca Hill<br> 14. In light of <i>eros</i> / Claudia Baracchi<br> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-48970288508748058332020-02-13T22:33:00.001-05:002020-02-13T22:33:18.342-05:002020.02.28Patricia A. Rosenmeyer, <i>The Language of Ruins: Greek and Latin Inscriptions on the Memnon Colossus.</i> Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018. Pp. xix, 262. ISBN 9780190626310. $90.00. <p>Reviewed by Felipe Rojas, Brown University (felipe_rojas@brown.edu) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-28.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-language-of-ruins-9780190626310">Publisher's Preview</a></p> <p><i>Enta geweorc</i> is an Old English poetic collocation used to describe the traces of dilapidated monumental architecture in the landscape of Early Medieval England. Those words—which mean "work of giants"—offer a glimpse into how the material remains of Roman Britain (perhaps specifically the ruins of a monumental bath) were understood by some of the inhabitants of the island long after the fall of the Roman Empire.<sup>1</sup> They also provide a distant analog to the types of evidence and themes Patricia A. Rosenmeyer examines in this rich and rewarding book. <i>The Language of Ruins</i> will be of interest to classicists studying topics as diverse as Roman antiquarianism, ancient pilgrimage and elite tourism, and the reception of Homer and Sappho in the first few centuries AD. The book also has much to offer those working on Egyptomania, the cross-cultural understanding of ruins, and the entanglement of vernacular and learned as well as ancient and modern discourses about antiquities.<sup>2</sup> </p> <p>Monumental ruins around the world have often provoked wonder among later generations of interpreters. Occasionally, those ruins have incited awestruck visitors to carve textual records of their presence on them. The inscribed ruin with which this book is concerned is one of a pair of colossal anthropomorphic statues in a necropolis of Egyptian Thebes (modern Luxor), originally erected in the fourteenth century BC to commemorate Amenhotep III. From at least the first century BC, that statue was understood by Greeks and Romans as a memorial not to an Egyptian pharaoh, but rather to the Homeric hero Memnon, a mythical king of the Ethiopians who was killed by Achilles in Troy. The so-called "Colossus of Memnon" bears an archive of ancient interpretations of the statue's significance in the form of 107 Greek and Latin inscriptions, carved in the first three centuries AD. Evidently, that statue attracted as much attention in Roman antiquity as it has since European explorers, antiquarians, and scholars began to write about it and illustrate it in the early eighteenth century AD. </p> <p>In Chapter 1, Rosenmeyer describes the statues in Thebes, the ancient literary sources that mention them (including those dealing with the origins of the speaking ruin), and the ancient inscriptions carved on that statue's legs.<sup>3</sup> As both the inscriptions and the literary sources attest, many different people traveled far specifically to <i>visit</i> the Colossus. Visitors were there also to <i>audit</i>, as it were: to examine with their ears as much as with their eyes. In 27 or 26 BC, an earthquake seems to have damaged one of the colossal statues, somehow generating the physical conditions under which it produced a howl or shriek when heated by the sun's rays. The sound ceased at some point in the late second or third century AD, perhaps as a result of imperial intervention.<sup>4</sup></p> <p>In Chapter 2, Rosenmeyer considers the motivations of the various foreign visitors who left their mark on the colossus. Most of those people were military and administrative officers (including eight prefects of Egypt). A few of them registered the presence of their wives and children; some of those wives (including Hadrian's spouse Sabina) left inscriptions of their own. So did sophists and poets (including women who wrote in different archaizing styles). Rosenmeyer teases differences between intellectual and religious, or secular and sacred motivations, but clear-cut distinctions are anachronistic. She also probes the visitors' yearning to be present in all their individual specificity by calling attention to the insistence with which many of them recorded the time of day at which they heard Memnon's wondrous voice (pp. 27-33). </p> <p>In Chapter 3, Rosenmeyer ponders "How to converse with a statue". The common, yet contradictory drive to experience what others had already experienced (i.e., Memnon's voice), and to do so in a way that was at the same time intensely personal is repeatedly attested in the inscriptions. This chapter demonstrates that Memnon and his visitors were mutually constitutive. In Thebes, dialogue with the past occurred <i>viva voce</i>. Successive performative visits by a diverse array of people animated broken rock; the sound of that rock made the visit worthwhile for foreign travelers. Memnon's voice turned those travelers into witnesses of the divine—or at least of the vividness of the traces of the Homeric (or Egyptian) past. Rosenmeyer marshals the inscriptions that attest to the challenge and the excitement of dialogue with the ruin. This chapter will be of particular interest to scholars thinking about the unstable ontological status of certain statues in classical antiquity. The author's discussion of the various ways ancient visitors engaged in conversation with Memnon deserves readers beyond classics. The evidence is remarkably explicit and abundant. It is easy to imagine embarking on comparative exploration with cultural traditions elsewhere in the world in which matter was—and sometimes still is—alive. <sup>5</sup> </p> <p>Homer was a lens through which to interpret the material remains of the past for travelers throughout the Greek and Roman worlds. In Chapter 4, Rosenmeyer explores how different people used the Homeric texts to make sense of the colossus. Especially valuable is her emphasis on the social range of Homeric interpreters. She surveys the many inscribers who wrote or commissioned inscriptions that engaged with Homer and also the various ways in which those engagements happened. Many people invoked Homer through lexical archaisms or the use of short epic phrases. But one of them, the poet Arius, borrowed four Homeric lines whole-cloth and rearranged them in an epigraphic <i>cento</i>. The heterogeneous intertexts allow Rosenmeyer to shed light on the inscribers' self-positioning with respect to both the ruin and Greek literary tradition. As she shows, Arius purloined Homeric lines to animate the speaking statue of an epic hero, and also to present himself as a living Homeric poet.</p> <p>In Chapter 5, "Sapphic Memnon", Rosenmeyer deals mostly with the poems of Julia Balbilla, who visited Thebes as part of Hadrian's retinue in November 130 AD. Balbilla's poems are famous because they are written in an artificial Aeolic dialect, using Sappho, rather than Homer, as a literary compass. Those inscriptions have received more attention than any others on the colossus. Much energy has been spent opining about their aesthetic value. Whatever twentieth and twenty-first century scholars may think about Balbilla's verses, the poems are fascinating cultural artifacts. Her inscriptions, along with those of the poet Claudia Damo and a handful of other inscriptions on the colossus, provide valuable insight into how Roman women interacted with ruins, with Greek and Roman literary culture, and with conflicting historical traditions. Although Rosenmeyer is right in claiming that most of the inscriptions are concerned <i>only</i> with the Greek interpretation of the colossus, Balbilla's texts furnish incontrovertible evidence that multiple memory horizons coincided and clashed at the site. Balbilla herself records conflicting traditions about the honorand of the statue, some of which she learned from "[Egyptian] priests who knew stories of old" (poem 29 line 4). </p> <p>In Chapter 6 Rosenmeyer turns to texts written by seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth-century European travelers and intellectuals. She draws connections and contrasts between ancient and modern interpreters and interpretations and detects a major shift in the attitude of early modern visitors towards the colossus with respect to that of their predecessors. Europeans wanted to appropriate antiquities and, paradoxically, to abduct those antiquities from Egypt so as to "literally bring them 'home'" (p. 203). This chapter also extends into more recent periods several themes treated in earlier chapters. The debate about the implications of a once vocal—indeed animated—statue gains new relevance in the early modern period when different intellectuals were themselves preoccupied with the existence of sophisticated, and potentially deceitful automata.</p> <p><i>The Language of Ruins</i>'s principal contribution is subjecting the entire inscriptional corpus on the colossus—and not just choice portions of that corpus—to critical analysis. For a study of inscriptions carved directly on an archaeological ruin in Egypt, however, the book is unapologetically philological and centered almost exclusively on foreign (i.e., Roman and later European) understandings of that ruin. Egyptians of any period are almost totally absent. But as Balbilla's poem 29 shows, Egyptian perspectives were available to ancient visitors as they are to anyone who visits the site now. A few ancient commentators explicitly note that the noise the statue emitted may have been due to local priests who intentionally manufactured a miracle (pp. 10-11).<sup>5</sup> Rosenmeyer's reliance on texts is in some ways unobjectionable. She is, after all, a philologist. But the colossus has existed in many media. The early modern desire to collect can only be very partially explored through the written record. Key manifestations of that desire are missed by focusing exclusively on words; the instruments whereby European travelers captured their archaeological prey were very often drawings, photographs, and rubbings.<sup>6</sup> </p> <p>Rosenmeyer largely subscribes to the trope of oblivion and rediscovery of the statue. The end of classical antiquity results in cultural amnesia (p. 176) followed by sudden anamnesis with the advent of the "intrepid European explorers" (p.169). Oblivion and rescue are at best myopic tropes, even if they are foundational to the disciplines of classics and archaeology. Absolute indifference for the colossus or other material remains of the past must be demonstrated. What did people think of the statue in the many intervening centuries? How did locals explain its origins and meaning? If vernacular discourses about antiquities in countries such as Greece and Italy have often been ignored by classicists, neglect has been more extreme in Muslim lands and it deserves redress. The statues in Thebes were never lost or forgotten (except by the authors in whom classicists are usually interested). The people who lived and continue to live by those statues have always known of their existence and have had not only their own explanations of the meaning and significance of those monuments, but also their own manners of interaction with them and their own strategies of interpretation. What's more, local and foreign traditions are rarely fully separate—perhaps they cannot be. When in the mid-nineteenth century the American Arabist Edward Joy Morris visited the monument, he noted the following: "There are no modern inscriptions, but there is a kind of traditionary record of the former vocality of this statue still lingering among the Arabs, for they call it <i>Salamaat</i>, or the statue that bids good morning."<sup>7</sup></p> <p>Rosenmeyer concludes with a suggestion that the inscriptions on the statue continue to speak "the universal language of ruins". And yet, as this very book shows, there is no such thing, but rather a babel of tongues about the traces of the past. Not all speakers recognize each other as interlocutors. Indeed not all of them recognize "ruins" as valid indices of the past <sup>8</sup>. Rosenmeyer should be commended for breathing life into all the Greek and Latin inscriptions on the colossus. I hope her book also inspires her readers to resuscitate other Memnons, both in Thebes and beyond.</p> <p></p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. The words are part of an eighth or ninth-century poem known as "The Ruin". A scholarly edition of that poem can be found in Philip Krapp and Elliot Van Kirk Dobbie (eds.), <i>The Exeter Book</i>, New York: Columbia University Press, 1936, pp. 227-229. <br> 2. See, for instance, Alain Schnapp et al. eds. <i>World Antiquarianism: Comparative Perspectives</i>, Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute, 2013, and Alain Schnapp, <i>Ruines: essai de perspective comparée. Collection</i>, Lyon: Presses universitaires de Lyon, 2015. <br> 3. The inscriptions have been available since they were edited by André and Étienne Bernard, <i>Les inscriptions grecques et latines du colosse de Memnon</i> Paris: Institut français d'archéologie orientale, 1960. <br> 4. Since the nineteenth century, Septimius Severus has been associated with restoration efforts that either silenced the statue or were prompted by its sudden muteness. In "The Miracle of Memnon," <i>Bulletin of the American Society of Papyrologists</i> 21, no. 1 (1984): 21–32, Glen Bowersock raised the intriguing possibility that the restorer may have been the Palmyrene empress Zenobia. <br> 5. See, for example, Stephen D. Houston, <i>The Life within: Classic Maya and the Matter of Permanence</i>. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014. <br> 6. Visual documentation extends the life of the statue well beyond the academic realm. See, e.g., <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Colossi_of_Memnon#/media/File:MEMNON_(Ship)_(c112-02-03).jpg">Clipper ship Memnon</a>. <br> 7. Morris, Edward Joy. <i>Notes of a Tour through Turkey, Greece, Egypt, Arabia Petræa, to the Holy Land: Including a Visit to Athens, Sparta, Delphi, Cairo, Thebes, Mt. Sinai, Petra, & c.: By E. Joy Morris.</i> Philadelphia: Carey and Hart, 1843, quote on p. 90. <br> 8. For ruins (or the lack thereof) in China and among the Inca, see Hung Wu, <i>A Story of Ruins: Presence and Absence in Chinese Art and Visual Culture</i>. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2012, and Steve Kosiba, "Ancient Artifice: The Production of Antiquity and the Social Roles of Ruins in the Heartland of the Inca Empire." In Benjamin Anderson and Felipe Rojas (eds.), <i>Antiquarianisms: Contact, Conflict, Comparison</i>, Oxford: Oxbow, 2017, pp. 72–108 (on which see BMCR <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2018/2018-06-04.html">2018.06.04</a>). </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-32272560748801113712020-02-13T22:05:00.000-05:002020-02-13T22:06:00.764-05:002020.02.27Sabine R. Huebner, <i>Papyri and the Social World of the New Testament.</i> Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2019. Pp. xv, 192. ISBN 9781108455701. $24.99 (pb). <p>Reviewed by Brent Nongbri, MF Norwegian School of Theology, Religion, and Society (brent.nongbri@mf.no) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-27.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=EymbDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a></p> <p>I can still recall the thrill I felt as an undergraduate the first time I encountered a dusty copy of Adolf Deissmann's <i>Light from the Ancient East</i>.<sup>1</sup> Here were the texts of actual ancient papyri and inscriptions put into conversation with early Christian literature, illuminating not only the vocabulary of the texts but also the social world in which ancient Christians lived. And it had so many great pictures of papyri, ostraca, inscriptions, and more! But as I returned to the book over the years, my enthusiasm waned a bit. Deissmann's romanticism and orientalism did not age well, the peculiar theological axes he was grinding became more prominent with repeated readings, and at 467 pages of text (never mind indices), the book was cumbersome. But what if there was a streamlined, up-to-date, and methodologically sophisticated effort to bring the papyrological record to bear on the understanding of the social world of early Christians? And what if it was written by a trained historian instead of a theologian? And what if, on top of all that, it was just as well illustrated as Deissmann's book?</p> <p>Enter Sabine Huebner's <i>Papyri and the Social World of the New Testament</i>. This engaging book offers a series of case studies showing what can be gained when a specialist in the field of ancient history, particularly in papyrology, turns to texts and questions that are typically examined within the framework of New Testament studies. Huebner sets out to study "common people … individuals of lower social classes" in the hopes of shedding new light on the world of the New Testament, a world that New Testament scholars "fail to properly set into context" because they are, according to Huebner, "generally unaware of the latest research on the periods and social strata with which they are concerned" (2-3). </p> <p>An opening chapter introduces the main body of evidence Huebner employs, the papyri of Roman Egypt. An efficient overview of the rise of Christianity in Egypt is followed by a short but convincing argument that the documentary remains that have survived from Roman Egypt generally reflect the social reality of the Roman world more widely. That is to say, the Egyptian evidence can illuminate other areas of the Roman world where written evidence of everyday life is less plentiful, particularly Galilee and Judea.</p> <p>Having laid that groundwork, chapter 2 turns to an analysis of P.Bas. 2.43, a papyrus letter recently identified by Huebner as the earliest surviving Christian document. The letter is obviously Christian, as it closes with a distinctively Christian formula—"I pray that you fare well in the Lord," the last word of which (κυρίῳ) is abbreviated in the typical Christian fashion (κω, a so-called <i>nomen sacrum</i>). In a forthcoming edition of the papyrus, Huebner will argue on prosopographical grounds that the letter came from Theadelphia in the Fayum and was written in the 230s, decades before the next earliest surviving Christian documents.<sup>2</sup> The contents of the letter thus give us a tantalizing glimpse of some Egyptian Christians outside Alexandria at a relatively early period. We find that this particular group of Christians ran in fairly elite circles, as the letter is concerned with the gymnasiarchy and the city council.</p> <p>The third and densest chapter proposes an ingenious new solution to the old problem of the Augustan census mentioned in Luke 2:1-2. Huebner sets the narrative in Luke in the context of what we can know about different kinds of censuses taken in the early imperial period. By charitably assuming that the author of the gospel was not ignorant of basic historical facts, Huebner proposes that what was being described in Luke 2:1 was <i>not</i> the provincial census taken when Quirinius was governor of Syria in 6 CE (which is mentioned by Josephus as the cause of an uprising). Instead, Huebner begins by pointing to two passing comments of early Christian authors. First, Justin Martyr states that the birth of Jesus took place when Quirinius was a procurator (ἐπίτροπος, <i>Apol</i>. 1.34). Second, Tertullian states that Jesus was born just after the census of Sentius Saturninus, who, according to Josephus, was the governor (ἐπιμελητής, ἡγεμών) of Syria from 9-6 BCE (Tert. <i>Adv</i>. <i>Marc</i>. 4.19; Jos. <i>Ant</i>. 16.10.8, 17.1.1). Huebner thus suggests that Luke must be referring to an otherwise unattested "client state census" under Herod that took place at the same time as the Roman imperial census of 8 BCE, when Gaius Sentius Saturninus was the governor of Syria. In this scenario, Quirinius would be the lower official that actually carried out the census, the prefect (that is to say, the office typically designated in papyri by substantive participial forms of the Greek term ἡγεμονεύω).<sup>3</sup> The solution resolves the tension with our other source for the birth of Jesus, namely the Gospel according to Matthew, which places the birth of Jesus during the reign of Herod the Great. It also places the census in a period when both Nazareth and Bethlehem would have fallen under a single jurisdiction (which was not the case in 6 CE). With regard to the problem of Joseph travelling to Bethlehem "because he was descended from the house and lineage of David," Huebner again turns to an early Christian commentator, this time John Chrysostom, who argued that Joseph (and Mary) must have been "citizens" (πολῖται) of Bethlehem and only temporarily resident in Nazareth (<i>In diem natalem</i> PG 49 col. 351). Huebner finds such a scenario reasonable in light of the movements of people mentioned in surviving papyrus census returns from Egypt: "Luke's description seems thoroughly realistic if one accepts that his intent was to leave his readers with the impression that Joseph's family was originally from Bethlehem and owned some property there" (42).<sup>4</sup> Huebner's reading is both plausible and intriguing even if this class of census (the "client state census") is not terribly well attested.</p> <p>Chapter 4 turns briefly to three literary papyri, the surviving copies of the Gospel according to Mary, a text that depicts Mary as the one in possession of secret knowledge who teaches the other disciples. This functions as an entrée into an exploration of the status of women in Christian communities in Egypt. Although women played important roles in monastic settings, there is no evidence for female clergy in Egypt despite a wealth of papyrological documentation for clerics. This differs from the situation outside Egypt, where evidence exists for a female presence in church hierarchies. Huebner posits two possible explanations for this phenomenon: the relatively late spread of Christianity in the Egyptian countryside and the influence of Demetrius, bishop of Alexandria from 189 to 232, whose proto-orthodox views likely left little space for women in positions of power within the church. Yet, Huebner points out the well documented circulation in Egypt of certain Christian literary texts that depicted women in positions of power shows at least an interest in alternative views among some Egyptian Christians.</p> <p>The fifth chapter gathers the evidence for what we can know about carpenters in the Roman world. Census returns suggest carpenters typically had a small household (unlike farmers, who required extended families to help with agricultural labor). Papyri and ostraca also give the impression that carpenters were mobile, following construction work where it led. They could have periods of apprenticeship that lasted up to six years. Because Jesus is depicted in the gospels as being able to read, Huebner notes that ancient readers of the gospels would have assumed he had a decent education, further implying that Joseph must have been reasonably financially successful. Huebner places carpenters generally in the class of "craftsmen," not especially highly regarded in Roman society but considerably better off than unskilled day laborers.</p> <p>Chapter 6 again takes its starting point from the opening of the Gospel according to Luke, specifically Mary's trip from Nazareth to Judea (1:39), which prompts Huebner to ask what we can know about ancient travel. The main motivation for travel was trade and state-sponsored movement of goods, but other occasions for travel noted in the papyri include festivals, birthdays, sicknesses or deaths in the family, and court hearings. Huebner also notes evidence for women in particular travelling in connection with births, often to assist a friend or relative. Travel by foot was common. For those with means, donkeys, wagons, and boats offered greater speed and comfort, but the weather and bandits were an ever-present threat to travelers. For travel lasting more than a day, the best option was staying with networks of friends, but commercial inns were also available. </p> <p>In the final full chapter, Huebner returns to shepherds, asking what we can know about this profession. She points out that while scholars have studied the <i>image</i> of the shepherd in ancient mythology and literature, the lives of actual shepherds have remained obscure. Despite limited space for pastures in Egypt, the papyri do record the presence and activities of shepherds in the Roman era. Declarations of sheep and goats show that owners of herds would either hire shepherds individually or pool resources to share a shepherd. The hired shepherd (νομεύς) was distinct from the rather rarer case of an owner of a herd acting as a shepherd (ποιμήν). To judge from declarations of livestock, the typical herd in Roman Egypt was about 80 to 100 animals, consisting of mostly sheep with a few goats. The work of the shepherd included leading animals to grazing areas, making sure they were secure at night, and handling the birth of new animals. According to surviving account books, shepherds were quite poorly paid. Shepherds also appear with some frequency in petitions, often being accused of grazing herds on someone else's fields.</p> <p>In a short "Afterword," Huebner reiterates the need for students of the New Testament to pay greater attention to the quotidian history of the lower classes, among whom were the earliest followers of Jesus. On the other hand, she also admonishes ancient historians to make better use of early Christian sources.</p> <p>Huebner brings an impressive array of sources together to recontextualize several figures and passages from the gospels from different angles. Yet, the book remains very readable. The 27 color images and 8 well-labelled maps nicely enhance the text. Despite the title of the book, Huebner for the most part limits her discussion to the gospels (the book might more accurately be called <i>Papyri and the Social World of Jesus</i>), and this leaves the door open for future studies taking a similar approach to the more urban settings of other New Testament texts, like the Pauline letters. Given the fruitful results of Huebner's work on display here, I hope such future studies appear sooner rather than later. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Adolf Deissmann, <a href="https://archive.org/details/cu31924060305095/page/n5"><i>Light from the Ancient East: The New Testament Illustrated by Recently Discovered Texts of the Graeco-Roman World</i></a> (rev. ed.; trans. Lionel R. M. Strachan; New York and London: Harper & Row, 1927). <br> 2. Sabine R. Huebner, "<i>P.Bas</i>. II.43 R," in Sabine R. Huebner and W. Graham Claytor, Isabelle Marthot-Santaniello, and Matthias Müller (eds.), <i>Papyri of the University Library of Basel (P.Bas. II)</i> (Berlin: de Gruyter, forthcoming). <br> 3. Huebner may overstate her case here in claiming that "Luke certainly does not call Quirinius a governor" (46). Both the noun ἡγεμών and the verb ἡγεμονεύω seem to translate a variety of Latin words indicating positions of authority ranging all the way from <i>princeps</i> down to <i>praefectus</i>, and including <i>legatus</i> and <i>praeses provinciae</i>. See the sources gathered in Hugh J. Mason, <a href="http://sites.dlib.nyu.edu/viewer/books/isaw_asp000013/79"><i>Greek Terms for Roman Institutions: A Lexicon and Analysis</i></a> (Toronto: Hakkert, 1974), 51-52. <br> 4. This point about Bethlehem as Joseph's hometown finds further strong support in Stephen C. Carlson, "The Accommodations of Joseph and Mary in Bethlehem: Κατάλυμα in Luke 2.7," <i>New Testament Studies</i> 56 (2010), 326-342. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-42157947609709911882020-02-12T17:18:00.001-05:002020-02-12T17:18:36.603-05:002020.02.26Kelly Arenson, <i>Health and Hedonism in Plato and Epicurus.</i> London; New York: Bloomsbury, 2019. Pp. x, 217. ISBN 9781350080256. $114.00. <p>Reviewed by Attila Németh, Center for Hellenic Studies, Harvard University (anemeth@chs.harvard.edu) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-26.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/uk/health-and-hedonism-in-plato-and-epicurus-9781350080256/">Preview</a></p> <p>Arenson's <i>Health and Hedonism</i> offers an arresting comparative study of Plato's treatments of pleasure in the <i>Republic</i> (ch. 1) and the <i>Philebus</i> (chs. 2-3), the debates that followed among Platonists and Aristotelians (ch. 3), and Epicurean hedonism (ch. 4-7). She concludes (ch. 8) that Epicurus conceived pleasure in terms of organic functioning. She contends that Epicurus and his followers were interested in essentially the same questions as the Platonists when they parsed the relationship between health and <i>hēdonē</i>, asking for instance whether the relation between pleasure and health make the former a viable <i>telos</i>. But, although their investigations sometimes coincided, Platonists and Epicureans came to quite different conclusions. In articulating her main arguments, Arenson considers several important secondary topics, such as the philosophical and historical influences of Plato, the debates between the Academy and the Peripatetic school, and the credibility of Cicero's account of the different types of Epicurean pleasures, all of which she illuminates from a new and highly polemical perspective.</p> <p>In Chapter 1, "The Pleasure of Psychic Harmony in the <i>Republic</i>", Arenson analyses Socrates' arguments for the superiority of the pleasures of the philosophical life in Book 9 of Plato's <i>Republic</i>. She argues convincingly for a connection between Socrates' equation of harmonious psychic functioning with health in the middle books of the <i>Republic</i> and his defence of the hedonic superiority of the just life in Book 9. The ensuing pleasure enjoyed by the entire soul is thus its psychic health, which can be brought about only through virtuous and rational activities.</p> <p>In Chapter 2, "Restorative Pleasure and the Neutral State of Health in the <i>Philebus</i>", Arenson outlines Plato's metaphysical explanation of pleasure and health. Then she turns to Socrates' 'restoration' model of physical pleasures, and to what she calls his 'perception requirement', according to which processes of restoration and disturbance can be pleasurable and painful, respectively, only if they are perceived. This is also a significant condition for Epicurus. This conclusion allows Socrates to deny that neutral conditions, such as the absence of pain, are pleasurable—a challenge set for Epicurus. </p> <p>Chapter 3, "Plato's Anti-Hedonistic Process Argument", is the historically most complex part of Arenson's discussion. This chapter revolves around the role of restoration in Plato's demonstration that pleasure is not the "good". Since all processes belong to the realm of becoming and not to the realm of being, and the good belongs to the class of being, pleasures that are processes are not goods in themselves; at best, they are instrumental to the good. Arenson evaluates the role this "process argument" plays not only in the <i>Philebus</i>, but also in the Platonists' debates with the Aristotelians, who held that pleasure belongs to the activity of healthy functioning and not to the process of attaining such outcome. Arenson's speculative reconstruction makes Epicurus' distinction between kinetic and katastematic pleasures a reply to Plato's description of pleasure as process, and to Aristotle's reaction to Plato's view. In justification of this historically neat theory of Epicurus' response to earlier thinkers, Arenson must give a coherent explanation of Aristotle's views on pleasure in his different works, which somewhat overcomplicates her arguments. She formulates an interpretation of Aristotle's claims concerning pleasure in the <i>Rhetoric</i> which, compared with competing explanations,<sup>1</sup> seems unconvincing and does not really move the arguments forward. By the end of her book, the reader in any case recognizes that Arenson's historical claims about Platonic and Aristotelian influence on Epicurus are compelling.</p> <p>In Chapter 4, "Cicero's <i>De Finibus</i> and Epicurean Pleasure", Arenson examines Cicero's account of Epicurean pleasure in <i>De Finibus</i>. She contends that there are problems with Cicero's way of formulating the difference between Epicurus' kinetic and katastematic pleasures, with the former characterized by changes and/or motions in one's state and the latter not. In her view, Cicero misrepresented the role of sensory pleasures in Epicurus' hedonism. This also led him to introduce the following paradox into Epicurus' conception of the <i>summum bonum</i>: since the active stimulation of the sense organs is the criterion for (kinetic) pleasure, why should tranquillity and painlessness (which are katastematic pleasures) be ends for the hedonist, since they do not involve the motivational power of change or motion? Arenson contests that Cicero's representation might have been influenced by earlier ancient interpretations familiar to him, such as the <i>divisio Carneadea</i>. She decides, therefore, to sideline Cicero's account and to pursue her exploration of Epicurean hedonism on the basis of other ancient sources.</p> <p>In Chapter 5, "Epicurean Pleasures of Bodily and Mental Health", Arenson argues that "Epicurus defines katastematic pleasure in terms of the perception of the healthy functioning of a living organism" (p. 86). In other words, katastematic pleasure is a conscious awareness that counts as pleasurable because it is a perception of painless organic functioning constituted by various bodily and mental activities – a goal worth pursuing for itself. Arenson believes that such an understanding of Epicurus' hedonism should not be allowed to collapse into a position she calls the "Unitary View" (UV), which holds that if all pleasure is related to an organism's natural functioning, it makes no sense to distinguish different types of pleasure. She accordingly rejects first of all the interpretations put forward by the major proponents of that view such as Gosling, Taylor, and Nikolsky. Her reasonable objection to Gosling and Taylor, that they fail to provide a clear account, does not in fact put clear blue water between her interpretation and theirs. I think she demonstrates convincingly, however, that while Epicurus did not believe that one's katastematic state is independent of the process that brought it about (a point made by Nikolsky), it does not follow that there is no difference between the causally related kinetic and katastematic pleasures.</p> <p>In Chapter 5, Arenson makes her case for katastematic pleasure being the healthy functioning of a living organism. Here, one may question whether her arguments are entirely satisfying, and whether they are not merely based on a bodily characterization of the highest good. I think she is on the right track when she draws attention to passages that describe optimal mental functioning in terms of health; but then she confuses her account in her conclusion (cf. p. 107) when she describes mental katastematic pleasure in terms of the "healthy bodily functioning and a confident expectation thereof". Bodily conditions cannot be either (1) necessary, or (2) sufficient for mental katastematic pleasure—that is, for tranquility (<i>ataraxia</i>)—for the following reasons: a person, for example, who is in a perfectly healthy bodily condition and is confident that he will remain in that shape still might have various sorts of painful anxieties about the future—which cuts against (2); or, if you consider Epicurus' notorious claims how mental pleasures such as remembering some past philosophical conversations can dispel bodily suffering (as in the example Epicurus set on his deathbed: DL 10.22), we also find that neither the absence of bodily pain nor the expectation of a healthy bodily condition in the future is necessary for being in the state of <i>ataraxia</i>—which cuts against (1). These objections raise the question how bodily and mental health (<i>aponia</i> and <i>ataraxia</i>) relate to one another in Epicurus' robust conception of the highest good. We do not get an adequate answer to this at this point of Arenson's argument, and the reader can only construct a tentative answer based on the findings of Chapter 7. </p> <p>In Chapter 6, "Pleasurable Restorations of Health in Epicurean Hedonism", we finally arrive at Arenson's positive conception of Epicurean kinetic pleasure, which is necessary for a clearer understanding of the argument of Chapter 4. Arenson builds a strong case for kinetic pleasures being the outcomes of processes that restore an organism to its natural state, both bodily and mental, with the former states depending on a prior physical deficiency, and the latter on a prior mental deficiency. Pleasurable sensory variations that are not restorative, such as the pleasures of hearing or seeing, do not fit the category of kinetic pleasures according to Arenson, which is why she excludes Cicero's evidence from her discussion. On her account, a kinetic pleasure stems from the psychological recognition of a deficiency, where the recognition takes the form of a desire for replenishment, the satisfaction of which is perceived as pleasant. Arenson now can harvest the results of her work in the first three chapters and make a comparison between the theories of Epicurus, Plato and Aristotle (pp. 115-16), as she will also do in Chapter 8 ("Conclusion: Health and Hedonism in Plato and Epicurus"). Nonetheless, as Arenson recognizes, this interpretation calls up the same niggling worries raised by the argument of Chapter 5. Since Arenson has built her case mainly on the evidence considering physiological functioning, can her restoration model be applied to mental pleasures as well? She gives what I think is a very original answer to this question, suggesting that we should think of restorative kinetic mental pleasures in the context of the medical model of philosophical therapy. This goes hand in hand with her explanation of mental katastematic pleasure's being an awareness of a healed and therefore healthy condition. Arenson then turns to six possible major objections to her account, most of which depend on the claim that Epicureans did not recognize the existence of any restorative pleasure. Much hangs on her answers to these objections; but as it was difficult to judge her case in Chapter 4 without her positive interpretation of kinetic pleasure in Chapter 6, many things remain similarly hanging until her further discussion in Chapter 7 ("Epicureans on Taste, Sex, and Other Non-Restorative Pleasures"). Consequently, I discuss both chapters together. </p> <p>I think the strongest objection Arenson raises to her own interpretation is the fact that some pleasures, such as the pleasure one might take in fame, are not connected either to restoration or painless functioning, and thus fall outside the scope of kinetic and katastematic pleasures. Consequently, Epicurus' two kinds of pleasure do not account for all known pleasures. Arenson attempts to account for how the case of fame can fit her general lines of interpretation of kinetic and katastematic pleasures, but she fails to give a compelling answer, given the further worry that, even if fame is connected to restoration and painless functioning, it is unclear how it would be also linked to health. She tries to resolve this difficulty by saying that "when I satisfy my desire to be famous and overcome my crippling anxiety about getting others to recognize me", "I feel better because I <i>am</i> better; my mind is momentarily untroubled by pain, and this is healthy and good" (p. 123, her emphasis). I think this solution points to the gravest difficulty with her book: its regular claim to give a completely coherent explanation of Epicurean hedonism. I am rather sceptical that the Epicureans would have conceived of pleasure derived from fame as healthy, even momentarily, because it is based on false beliefs, which are the fundamental reason for the disturbance fame also causes (cf. Lucretius on fame in <i>DRN</i> 5.1117-35). Perhaps the arguments Arenson puts forward could meaningfully be extended into the wider context of Epicurean ethics. If one points to Epicurus' taxonomy of desires (<i>Ep. Men.</i> 127-8), one can easily establish the claim that pleasures taken in the satisfaction of unnecessary and unnatural desires are unhealthy. One could list countless examples of such pleasures, such as those one might take in drugs or in many other forms of bodily or mental overindulgence. Arenson, instead of rejecting the objection she raises here, could have resolved it by simply situating her interpretation within Epicurus' normative ethical context and saying that Epicurus conceived of unhealthy, non-restorative pleasures as a sort of excess (cf. <i>Ep. Men.</i> 131). This would do no harm to her overall very novel conception of Epicurean hedonism.</p> <p>Arenson, however, is not willing to embrace such a solution because she wishes to limit the scope of Epicurus' non-restorative pleasures to the perception of healthy, painless functioning—pleasures that manifest the well-being and painless functioning of an organism as well as its underlying health. These pleasures she classifies as katastematic, against the <i>communis opinio</i> of modern scholarship that takes them to be kinetic. On her view, this <i>communis opinio</i> was misled by Cicero's evidence. She not only manages to put forward compelling arguments for her interpretation of taste, sex and other non-restorative pleasures being katastematic pleasures but, in consequence, she frees our conception of Epicurean hedonism from a number of familiar tensions, thanks to which we can now see it in a completely different, more balanced and nuanced light. </p> <p>Arenson's book is therefore a success. Although its narrow focus and the lack of a wider narrative of Epicurean ethics makes strong demands on the reader, it has significantly advanced our account of Epicurus' kinetic and katastematic pleasures.<sup>2</sup> </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. D. Wolfsdorf, <i>Pleasure in Ancient Greek Philosophy</i>, Cambridge 2013, pp. 108-9; J. C. B. Gosling and C. C. W. Taylor, <i>The Greeks on Pleasure</i>, Oxford 1982, pp. 196-8. <br> 2. This review was written with the support of the Hungarian Research Fund, NKFI, no. 128651. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-57645585841428915282020-02-12T16:19:00.001-05:002020-02-12T16:19:46.065-05:002020.02.25C. Jacob Butera, Matthew A. Sears, <i>Battles and Battlefields of Ancient Greece. A Guide to their History, Topography and Archaeology.</i> London: Pen & Sword, 2019. Pp. 385. ISBN 9781783831869. £24.00. <p>Reviewed by Emil Nankov, National Archaeological Institute with Museum, Bulgarian Academy of Sciences (ehn2@cornell.edu) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-25.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>At first glance the book under review may appear to be just another scholarly celebration of the ancient historiography of Greek and Roman warfare, supplemented by a healthy dose of modern topographic study, eruditely written by two academically-trained classicists and ancient historians.<sup>1</sup> That impression, however, does not do this book justice. In reality, the work offers fresh perspectives on the materiality of warfare by focusing on the topography of ancient battles — that is, on the battlefields themselves. Importantly, it also values and promotes personal interaction with ancient landscapes. The authors explicitly state in the Preface and Acknowledgments that "this is a book designed for the traveler to Greece" (p. vii), and one that encourages readers to visit the places themselves. Framing itself within the genre of practical travel guides, the book diverges significantly from any compendium of ancient battles arranged in chronological order. </p> <p>The book's structure is well suited to fulfilling the aims stated at the outset. Each chapter is devoted to a particular battle, featuring short descriptions of the site, historical outlines of battles, topographical notes on battle sites, and informative lists of ancient and modern sources at the end. For obvious reasons the authors' narratives favor land battles (18 are described) as opposed to sea battles (only four: Salamis, Artemisium, Naupactus and Actium), which contributes to the decision to arrange the 22 battles first by region and then by date. <sup>2</sup> The introductory chapter "Ancient Greek and Roman Warfare" (pp. ix-xxiv) provides basic historical background without unnecessary details, which makes the battle chapters easier to follow. In effect, the scope of the book inevitably directs the modern traveler to close encounters with the ultimate expression of Greek hoplite warfare: the pitched battle. A heavy emphasis falls on the achievements of the Greek phalanx of the Classical period in the context of the Greco-Persian Wars, the Peloponnesian War, the Corinthian War, the Theban-Spartan War, and the clash with Philip II of Macedon, while the arrival of the Roman legions in Greece is examined through six decisive battles (Cynoscephale, Pydna, Chaeronea [86 BCE], Pharsalus, Philippi and Actium).</p> <p>Butera and Sears rely primarily on Greek and Roman historiographical tradition for their brilliant descriptions, seamlessly intertwined with personal autopsy. The backbone of battle narratives is built on information from Greek and Roman authors, while only one inscription is cited as a primary source, the so-called 'Themistocles Decree' (p. 32).<sup>3</sup> The text is aided beautifully by the 47 color photographs taken by the authors themselves during their visits to the battle sites. Thus they have followed closely the topography-based approach to the study of ancient warfare utilized by military historians like Johannes Kromayer and W. Kendrick Pritchett. For secondary sources it is obvious that the authors lean heavily on scholarship published in English, whereas the handful of cited titles in Greek, French, German and Italian concern exclusively the Roman expansion in Greece, e.g. the battles of Cynoscephalae, Pydna, Pharsalus, Philippi and Actium (pp. 220, 243, 262-263, 281-282, 378-379). </p> <p>The graphic representation of battle tactics and troop movements, drawn attractively upon satellite photos from the United States Geological Survey (USGS), will be of immense help for any traveler trying to make sense of a battle site on the field. The result is well worth the effort on the part of the authors who, quite understandably, have assigned to these illustrations a prominent position in each chapter.<sup>4</sup> These visual aids of the narrative can be further appreciated when one realizes that only in five cases — the battles of Marathon, Thermopylae, Leuktra and Chaeronea (in both 338 BCE and 86 BCE) — do we possess the luxury of having prominent topographical features like burial mounds and trophies erected in the aftermath, which can serve as more reliable markers when positioning oneself within an ancient battlefield. In most cases, travelers are at the authors' mercy, having to rely on battle site descriptions, color photographs and GPS coordinates in the attempt to get their bearings in the countryside. </p> <p>The authors should be praised for the idea to include archaeology in the subtitle of their book. On at least a few occasions, such as the battles of Amphipolis (pp. 191-199), Chaeronea (338 and 86 BCE [pp. 173-177]) and Actium (pp. 374-377), one comes across substantial references to archaeological evidence in support of the history-laden narratives. The authors are not to blame for this imbalance. Battlefield archaeology as such is not practiced in Greece, and the exceptional case of the capture of Olynthus by Philip II of Macedon in 348 BCE, on the basis of which John W. I. Lee developed the concept of ancient urban combat<sup>5</sup>, has to do with the aftermath of city sieges, not pitched battles. Nevertheless, archaeology, unlike history, brings out the physicality of ancient warfare before the eyes of a modern visitor, regardless of whether one is looking at shattered bones (Chaeronea, 338 BCE) or a victory trophy carrying original writing from the time of the battle (Chaeronea, 86 BCE). Further opportunities, cited by Butera and Sears, for acquiring fresh insights into the study of ancient battlefields are the geomorphological and photogrammetric prospections carried out in the vicinity of Pydna (pp. 240-241) and Philippi. Albeit few in number, and in the case of Philippi with inconclusive results (p. 282), such approaches are likely to enrich scholarly discourses about decisive battles that are traditionally dominated by written sources and topographic considerations. In several cases the archaeological bent of the historical narratives could have been stronger if more artifactual evidence was drawn into discussion.<sup>6</sup> </p> <p>Apart from the introductory chapter, where six illustrations have been reproduced, throughout the book photographs of archaeological artifacts are scarce. The three exceptions include the Spartan hoplite shield captured by the Athenians during the battle of Pylos, now on display at the Agora Museum in Athens; the so-called "Ossuary of Brasidas" at the Archaeological Museum in Amphipolis; and the sculptural reliefs of the Aemilius Paullus Monument at Delphi (pp. 197-198, 238, 301, 313).<sup>7</sup> This fact may be attributed both to the authors' aim to stay more focused on experiencing topography as opposed to examining monuments or militaria in museums and to a restriction on the part of the publisher intended to reduce production costs. </p> <p>The publisher has done an excellent job with the production of the book. Maps, satellite photos and photographs are of superb quality, which contributes greatly to its usefulness. The editing is perfect, and so is the typography. The guide is a must for military buffs and eager travelers, who should make it a necessary part of their travel kit when roaming the battlefields of ancient Greece, although the hard binding and the high-quality paper on which the book is printed make it a bit heavy to carry around. Because of its accessible writing style and a short index at the end, the guide will be equally useful for undergraduates, teachers and the general public. The annotated citations of ancient texts and modern studies accompanying each chapter is suitable for acquiring deeper knowledge, as well as for undertaking scholarly pursuits in the field of ancient warfare. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. The steady flow of books on ancient battles supported by the Pen & Sword Military demonstrates their continuing interest in Greek and Roman warfare. E.g. Pietrykowski, J. <i>Great Battles of the Hellenistic World.</i> Barnsley: Pen and Sword Books (2012); Taylor, D. <i>Roman Republic at War: A Compendium of Roman Battles from 498 to 31 BC.</i> Barnsley: Pen & Sword Military (2017). <br> 2. On the back of the book jacket it is stated incorrectly that the book "covers 20 battles". <br> 3. Perhaps an oversight has caused the omission of a full citation of the book (cited simply as <i>ML</i> 23) where the inscription has been edited: R. Meiggs and D. M. Lewis (eds.) <i>A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the End of the Fifth Century BC.</i> Oxford University Press (1969; revised edition 1988). <br> 4. One assumes that all graphic renditions superimposed on the satellite imagery have been prepared by the authors, since nowhere in the book is there an explicit statement to the contrary. <br> 5. Lee, J. W. I. "Urban Combat at Olynthus, 348 BC". In: Ph. Freeman and A. Pollard (eds.) <i>Fields of Conflict: Progress and Prospect in Battlefield Archaeology (BAR International Series 958).</i> Oxford: Archaeopress (2001), 11-22. Lee, J. W. I. "Urban Warfare in the Classical Greek world". In: Hanson, V. (ed.) <i>Makers of Ancient Strategy.</i> Princeton University Press (2010), 138-157. <br> 6. For example, the work of Goette, H. R. and Weber, T. M. <i>Marathon. Siedlungskammer und Schlachtfeld - Sommerfrische und Olympische Wettkampfstätte</i> Verlag Philipp von Zabern (2004), 78-94, contains a useful presentation of data devoted to burial of the dead and the commemoration of the battle acquired through archaeological excavations at Marathon. Similarly, Kosmidou, E. and Malamidou, D. "Arms and Armour from Amphipolis, Northern Greece. Plotting the Military Life of an Ancient City." <i>Anodos. Studies of the Ancient World</i> 4-5/2004-2005, Trnava (2006), 133-147 has further bearings on the archaeology of battles near Amphipolis. Völling, Th. "Römische Militaría in Griechenland: ein Überblick." In: M. Feugère (ed.) <i>L'équipement militaire et l'armement de la République. Journal of Roman Military Equipment Studies 8</i> (1997) 91-103 presents valuable data on the military equipment of Roman legions during the Late Republic found on various sites and sanctuaries. Occasional reference to the book by Holger Baitinger <i>Waffenweihungen in griechischen Heiligtümern.</i> Monographien des Römisch-Germanischen Zentralmuseums 94 Mainz (2011) may have augmented the traveler's experience of a battle site by directing their attention to military booty, examples of which can be seen in Greek museums. <br> 7. Curiously, the color reproduction of the fallen warrior from the East pediment of the Late Archaic temple of Aphaia, featured prominently on the book jacket, is uncredited. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-61820426469524632162020-02-12T16:11:00.001-05:002020-02-12T16:11:11.659-05:002020.02.24Matthew A. Sears, <i>Understanding Greek Warfare. Understanding the ancient world.</i> London; New York: Routledge, 2019. Pp. 140. ISBN 9781138288607. $150.00. <p>Reviewed by Clemens Koehn, University of New England (ckoehn2@une.edu.au) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-24.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://www.routledge.com/Understanding-Greek-Warfare-1st-Edition/Sears/p/book/9781138288607">Publisher's Preview</a></p> <p>Ancient military history remains a booming area of Classical Studies. In the last decade, major collective works have been published.<sup>1</sup> While these publications provide wide-ranging overviews of various periods and aspects of ancient warfare, their design (and price) is better suited for specialist scholars than for undergraduates. We are therefore grateful to the publishers for including a volume dedicated to ancient Greek warfare in their <i>Understanding the Ancient World</i> series of introductory textbooks; as such, it is the first book on this topic especially designed for tertiary teaching purposes. </p> <p>The book follows the general chronology of Greek history. The first chapter deals with Bronze Age and Homeric warfare. Sears discusses aspects of warfare in the second Millennium BCE, such as the deployment of chariots and massed infantry. He then engages with the complex scholarship on the nature of Homeric battle, including discussion of the extent to which massed phalanx-style infantry formations were already in use, or alternatively, whether the battle order was more fluid and open compared to later developments. While generally providing a good account, he does so in a somewhat distorted manner when he argues that "scholarly boxes [are] too neat and tidy" (p. 19). No scholars involved in the discussion would claim that pitched battles were the only form of Homeric warfare, as Sears implies. The remainder of the chapter examines the imitation and perception of Homeric warfare by later generations of Greeks. Sears concludes the chapter with a discussion of an Homeric duel; here, his statement that the combined throwing and thrusting of spears in Homer is "a form of combat unattested in other Greek sources" (p. 26) is rather contestable, as the comparison of textual and pictorial sources from the Archaic period proves.<sup>2</sup></p> <p>The second chapter deals with warfare in Archaic times up to the Persian wars. Sears discusses the rise of the phalanx, the vexed question of the 'Hoplite revolution', the various interpretations of <i>othismos</i> (literal vs. figurative), etc. In the end, he tends to favour the so-called 'orthodox' view, in which there is not much development of the phalanx during the Archaic and Classical period. Unfortunately, he does not cite major recent contributions such as Adam Schwartz' <i>Reinstating the Hoplite</i> (an orthodox work), or Chris Matthew's <i>Storm of Spears</i>.<sup>3</sup> Sears cursorily mentions his own experiments with hoplite equipment (p. 37), which would have made it all the more appropriate to give the reader his opinion of Matthew's results. Sears continues this chapter by discussing the political implications of the 'Hoplite revolution' and by analysing two case studies of hoplite battles: Thermopylae in 480 BCE and Nemea in 394 BCE. A short discussion of the pictorial representation of the hoplite, his image <i>strictu sensu</i>, concludes this chapter.</p> <p>In compliance with his chronological approach, Sears then discusses naval warfare, since during the Persian wars the navy became Athens' major instrument of waging war. This chapter focuses exclusively on Athenian naval developments in the 5<sup>th</sup> century, analysing Salamis in 480 BCE and Naupactus in 429 BCE as case studies for sea battles. Sears does not discuss any later naval history, the important developments of the late Classical and Hellenistic periods are ignored. While he generally provides a solid overview of naval matters in the 5<sup>th</sup> century, it is rather inappropriate in this context not to find any mention of significant contributions such as H.T. Wallinga's study of the naval aspects of Xerxes' campaign, or Boris Rankov's final report on the reconstructed <i>Olympias</i>.<sup>4</sup> Furthermore, Sears' discussion of Aeschylus' presentation of the Persian defeat at Salamis is rather one-sided. Of course, there is a stream of scholarship that interprets the <i>Persians</i> as blatant celebration of Greek triumphalism; but at the same time, there are also many scholars who stress the highly empathetic aspects of this play, given that it basically consists of numerous scenes of collective and personal mourning and grief after the loss of so many lives.<sup>5</sup> In an introductory textbook, but not only there, one has to follow the principle of <i>audiatur et altera pars</i>, otherwise one's own point of view is not contextualised.</p> <p>In the fourth chapter, under the rather misleading title 'Total War', Sears discusses military developments during the Peloponnesian war. Given its importance as a trigger for many changes, the decision to dedicate a full chapter to this major conflict is absolutely justified. Sears first discusses the implications of having an author of the status of Thucydides as the main source for the war. Sears then gives a lengthy outline of the war as such, and then continues to discuss military developments such as siege warfare and the role of light-armed infantry. The chapter concludes with an interesting discussion of the new generation of military leaders that the war generated, such as Brasidas and Alcibiades, and an overview of the war as portrayed in contemporaneous Athenian dramatic productions. The latter is quite topical, but one has to be cautious not to make too many connections between actual events and the dramatic staging, at least with regard to tragedy. That Euripides' <i>Trojan Women</i> is a direct answer to the Athenian atrocities at Melos, is rather unlikely on the basis of the chronology (and, in addition, one should not forget that it is part of a trilogy on the Trojan War, so the mythological context is more complex).<sup>6</sup> It is strange that in this chapter, Sears does not follow his usual structural paradigm by including a section dedicated to providing close-up case studies of battles. For instance, the major battles of Delium in 424 BCE and Mantineia in 418 BCE are surprisingly not reviewed. </p> <p>The fifth chapter covers the fourth century until the rise of Macedon. Sears discusses to what extent the phalanx formed from a civic militia still mattered, or whether mercenaries now dominated warfare. An analysis of the battles of Lechaeum in 390 BCE and Mantineia in 362 BCE concludes this chapter. Again, although Sears provides a wide-ranging overview of various developments, he fails to analyse the growing importance of cavalry; standard works such as the monographs of I.G. Spence and R.E. Gaebel are nowhere referenced.<sup>7</sup> His brief discussion of the development of artillery under Dionysios I in Syracuse in the 390s, does not consider the scholarly debate as to whether Dionysios oversaw the invention of artillery <i>per se</i> or of torsion artillery in particular. Here, Sears seems to follow the outdated hypotheses of Marsden and neglects to consider the views of more contemporary scholars.<sup>8</sup> Sears has also overlooked the fact that Andreas Konecny's article on the Lechaeum battle has been translated into English and published in an influential essay collection on peltasts.<sup>9</sup></p> <p>The sixth chapter is dedicated to the rise of Macedon under Philip and Alexander's conquest of Persia. Sears adumbrates the sources, and then focuses on Philip's military reforms and Alexander's subsequent campaigns. He selects the siege of Tyre in 332 BCE, and the battle of Gaugamela in 331 BCE, for in-depth analysis. He concludes the chapter with a brief evaluation of other scholars' assessments of Alexander's military genius. Sears bases his discussion of Philip's reforms on Minor Markle's <i>summa</i> on Macedonian arms and armament, but fails to refer to Markle's major thesis, that the army had been fully equipped with the new sarissa only under Alexander and that Macedonian phalangites still used a variety of conventional weaponry. The vast literature on the precise length and use of the sarissa since the publication of Markle's work is nowhere mentioned. <sup>10</sup></p> <p>The last chapter covers Hellenistic warfare. Sears initially discusses the polis level, and then examines the new large kingdoms and their armies. The chapter concludes with a discussion of Polybius' famous comparison between phalanx and legion, and two case studies, this time not on battles but on leaders: Pyrrhus and Hannibal. The inclusion of the latter is fully justified, since the Carthaginian army as well as its leaders clearly fought in a Hellenistic manner. Sears does not discuss the late attempts by Seleucids and Ptolemies to adjust to the Roman manipular system.<sup>11</sup> Whether the cavalry really "fell by the wayside, replaced by the reemergence of the phalanx as the be-all-and-end-all of Hellenistic warfare" (p. 181), is rather contestable. The decision in Hellenistic battles was still primarily sought through the cavalry on the wings, but without defeating the phalanx, the battle could not be won (as Raphia in 217 BCE illustrates)</p> <p>Sears' book is written in a casual and sometimes informal style, and it therefore will certainly appeal to undergraduates. However, despite its ostensible comprehensive coverage, there is often a conspicuous absence of scholarly debate. Sears provides his own translations of sources, but they are arguably not accurate on several occasions.<sup>12</sup> Sears makes the undergraduates aware that important scholarly work exists in other languages besides English; but his repeatedly used formulation "though in German/French, this is an important book" sounds rather odd. This being said, Sears' book offers a detailed presentation of the vast and difficult topic. As regards its suitability as a textbook for educational purposes at the tertiary level, it will have significant utility. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Including the <i>Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Warfare</i> (2007), and the <i>Oxford Handbook of Warfare in the Classical World</i> (2013). <br> 2. Eg Call. 1 West; Tyrt. 11 West; the famous Chigi vase, hardly properly analysed by Sears, and other depictions of warriors using spears fitted with throwing loops for both throwing and thrusting. On p. 42, Sears cites Callinus and Tyrtaeus but assumes that the warriors there are operating both with javelins and thrusting spears. However, the mode of fighting is the same as in Homer, the formulation in Call. 1.5: καί τις ἀποθνήσκων ὕστατ᾿ ἀκοντισάτω refers to a spear as well as a javelin, as the formulation in Tyrt. 11.25: δεξιτερῇ δ᾿ ἐν χειρὶ τινασσέτω ὄβριμον ἔγχος can clearly refer to movements before throwing the spear; this is exactly the same vocabulary as in Homer. For a more detailed analysis of this hybrid mode of fighting see now C. Koehn, In Speergewittern. Zur Semantik von "Fernkampf" und "Nahkampf" in der griechischen Archaik, in <i>Mnemon</i> 18 (2018), pp. 46-70. <br> 3. A. Schwartz, <i>Reinstating the Hoplite. Arms, Armour and Phalanx Fighting in Archaic and Classical Greece</i>, (Stuttgart 2009); C. Matthew, <i>A Storm of Spears. Understanding the Greek Hoplite in Action</i>, (Philadelphia 2012); one could have mentioned also F. Echeverría Rey, "Hoplite and Phalanx in Archaic and Classical Greece: A Reassessment", in <i>Classical Philology</i> 107 (2012), pp. 291-318. <br> 4. H.T. Wallinga, <i>Xerxes' Greek Adventure. The Naval Perspective</i>, (Leiden 2005); B. Rankov, <i>Trimreme Olympias. The Final Report</i>, (Oxford 2012). <br> 5. See <i>e.g.</i> the discussion in: A. Favorini, "History, Collective Memory, and Aeschylus' <i>Persians</i>", in <i>Theatre Journal</i> 55 (2003), pp 99–111. <br> 6. See now D. Kovacz, <i>Euripides: Troades</i>, (Oxford 2018), pp. 8-15. <br> 7. I.G. Spence, <i>The Cavalry of Classical Greece. A Social and Military History</i>, (Oxford 1993); R.E. Gaebel, <i>Cavalry Operations in the Greek World</i>, (Norman 2002). <br> 8. Cf. P. Kingsley, "Artillery and Prophecy: Sicily in the Reign of Dionysius I", in <i>Prometheus</i> 21 (1995), pp. 15-23; H.M. Schellenberg, "Diodor von Sizilien 14,42,1 und die Erfindung der Artillerie im Mittelmeeraum", in <i>Frankfurter Elektronische Rundschau zur Altertumskunde</i> 3 (2006), pp. 14-23; D. Campbell, "Ancient Catapults. Some Hypotheses Reexamined", in <i>Hesperia</i> 80 (2011), pp. 677-700. <br> 9. N.V. Sekunda-B. Burlinga (eds.), <i>Iphicrates, Peltasts and Lechaeum</i>, (Gdansk 2014). <br> 10. See as a more recent example C. Matthew, "The Length of the Sarissa", in <i>Antichthon</i> 46 (2012), pp. 79-100. <br> 11. N. Sekunda, <i>Hellenistic Infantry Reform in 160s BC</i>, (Lodz 2001). <br> 12. Some examples: p. 52: Hdt. 7.211: "as soon as the barbarians had overtaken them" – it means rather "as soon as the barbarians had reached them" (the Spartans could hardly turn around if already been overtaken); p. 107: Thuc. 6.15.4: "This state of affairs went a long way towards ruining the city" – it must rather be "They (sc. the Athenians) ruined the city in a short time" (this refers to the time after the expulsion of Alcibiades in 406 BCE); p. 130: Xen. Hell. 6.4.28: "He (sc. Jason) was the greatest man of his time and not to be despised by anyone" – the sense is certainly more nuanced: "He was the greatest of his time in that regard that he was not easily despised by anyone." </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-10273718434798843872020-02-11T23:01:00.001-05:002020-02-11T23:01:08.265-05:002020.02.23Christian H. Bull, <i>The Tradition of Hermes Trismegistus: The Egyptian Priestly Figure as a Teacher of Hellenized Wisdom. Religions in the Graeco-Roman World, 186.</i> Leiden: Brill, 2018. Pp. xvi, 532. ISBN 9789004370814. €164,00. <p>Reviewed by Korshi Dosoo, Würzburg (korshi.dosoo@gmail.com) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-23.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=spJyDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a></p> <p>The Corpus Hermeticum (CH) must represent one of the most complex textual phenomena of the Roman period, and as a collection of pseudonymous works, the reconstruction of its context of production, circulation and use poses considerable problems for historians of religion. Christian Bull's monograph, a revised version of his 2014 doctoral thesis, represents one of the most successful attempts to come to grips with these problems. Ambitious in its scope, it aims not only to understand the ritual 'Way of Hermes', but also the lived reality behind the texts. In these goals the author draws considerably upon other recent scholars, notably Garth Fowden, David Frankfurter, and Jacco Dieleman, whose extensive use of the Greek and Demotic magical papyri allowed them to argue that the Hermetica should be seen as originating from the same linguistically and culturally diverse priestly milieux as these texts.<sup>1</sup> But while these authors may have left us with a commonly-held consensus on these questions, they did not, as Bull notes, provide a fully argued form of the hypothesis, a task that he sets out to perform. </p> <p>The monograph begins with a helpful presentation of the <i>status quaestionis</i> of hermetic studies, summarising past research and major problems before ending with a helpful theoretical discussion of the role of Hermes within the texts, understood through the theoretical lens of cultural memory. The remainder of the book is divided into three main parts, the first of which, <i>Who is Hermes Trismegistus?</i> introduces more fully the central protagonist of the Hermetica. This section begins with an investigation into the origin of his title "Thrice Greatest" in Egyptian and Greek-language sources, and it continues with a survey of early discussions of Hermes-Thoth in Greek literary texts. This search for a prehistory of the Hermetica is followed by one of the monograph's boldest sections, an exploration of the writings of the Egyptian priest and Greek author Manetho. Bull's argument, too rich to resume in full here, makes the case for the authenticity of the letter of Manetho to Ptolemy II Philadelphus preserved by George Syncellus, suggesting it to be the introduction to Manetho's work on Egyptian history usually known as the <i>Aigyptiaka</i>. This work's ultimate goal, he argues, was to demonstrate that the beginning of Ptolemy III's reign marked a new Sothic cycle, and hence a new golden age.</p> <p>The importance of this work for the Hermetica lies in the fact that it refers to a succession of figures named Hermes, the latest of whom, Hermes Trismegistos, is associated with familiar later Hermetic <i>topoi</i> such as the recovery and transmission of primeval wisdom. Indeed, the letter seems to attest to the existence of Greek-language texts attributed to Hermes-Thoth as early as the reign of Ptolemy III. Bull's argument here goes well beyond the sphere of religion, linking the writing and circulation of these 'Proto-Hermetica' to the production of Ptolemaic, and later Roman, political propaganda. </p> <p>This leads into a discussion of the theory of kingship, already present in Manetho, but more fully expressed in the Hermetic tractates proper (principally SH XXIII, the <i>Korē Kosmou</i>), which makes the case for the divine origin of royal souls. Traces of this doctrine can be found in Hellenistic and Roman astrological material more broadly, suggesting that the "proto-Hermetic" layer may be taken to include the fragmentarily-attested but highly influential Hellenistic authors Nechepsos and Petosiris, legendary Egyptian king and priest respectively. Again, the intricacy of the argument prevents a full summary, but the cosmology implied by this doctrine—centred on kings, and valorising various categories of ritual experts—implies for Bull an origin in priestly milieux whose goal was the legitimation of pharaonic kingship and their own authority.</p> <p>The second part, <i>What is the Way of Hermes?</i> reconstructs the cursus followed by an initiate of Hermetism using the evidence of the philosophical Hermetica. While the phrase "Way of Hermes" does not, in fact, appear in the Hermetica, but we do find comparable discussions of a "Way of Immortality", and the mention of an order (<i>suntaxis</i>) in CH XVI and of various different categories of discourses (<i>genikoi, diexodikoi</i>) in the Coptic <i>Discourse on the Eighth and the Ninth</i> (Disc.8–9) demonstrate that the authors of these texts did imagine them as following a sequence.</p> <p>Bull's principal innovation in this section is in his reconciliation of the 'monistic' and 'dualistic' tendencies of the different tractates. While previous authors proposed multiple schools of Hermetism, or a cursus that moved from a world-affirming monism for initiates to a world-denying dualism for the initiated, Bull proposes a movement in the other direction, from dualism to monism. The initial stages ("conversion", "knowing oneself", "becoming a stranger to the world") consist in a recognition of the need to separate oneself from the Way of Death followed by the masses, and instruction in the nature of humanity and the cosmos, leading to a recognition that goodness exists only in the divine. This separation sets the stage for a ritual of rebirth represented in CH XIII. Despite the challenges of reconstructing a ritual from an idealised mythic representation, Bull convincingly suggests a real ritual context through linguistic parallels to the magical papyri. This assimilation of the initiate to God effected by the ritual now reveals the divine origin of the cosmos, resulting in the monism of the later tractates. The final stage, "Heavenly Ascent", is reconstructed based on <i>Disc.8–9</i>, and consists of a guided ascent to the eighth hypercosmic sphere, where the Hermetist hymns the ineffable ninth sphere, gaining a preview and guarantee of his blessed afterlife. Again, this section is informed by a careful attention to the ritual context, noting again the parallels to the magical papyri in the chanting of vowels and the idea of recording the ritual on a temple stela protected by curses.</p> <p>The third part of the monograph, <i>Who were the Hermetists?</i> turns to the question of the social context of the authors and users of the Hermetica. This section draws most heavily on the often-underutilised technical Hermetica, with Bull stressing the insufficiency of distinct modern categories such as philosophy, 'magic', and the mysteries. The author follows earlier studies in pointing out references to communal activities such as the singing of hymns and the sharing of meals, to which he adds the observation that both strands of Hermetica presuppose an interest in astrological contemplation and calculation. This introduction is followed by an extended reconstruction of the relationship between the Egyptian priesthood, the Hermetica, and the magical papyri, delving more fully into seams already identified by Fowden and Frankfurter. In particular, this section uses the archive often known as the Theban Magical Library (here the 'Thebes Cache') to demonstrate the clear parallels between the Hermetica and magical texts, and demonstrate the implication of priests in both. The key text used here is the so-called <i>Mithras Liturgy of PGM</i> IV.475-829, already recognised by Fowden as parallel to the Hermetic ascent ritual. This section integrates the story of Thessalos, the Greek doctor who visited Thebes to seek a magical revelation, as a prototype of the exchange between a Hellenic seeker of knowledge and the Egyptian priesthood that might lie behind the Hermetica. </p> <p>The final part of this section discusses the distinctive contribution of Egyptian priests to the Hermetica in more theoretical terms, using Frankfurter's idea of the appropriation by the priesthood of the Hellenic stereotype of the oriental sage, nuanced by Richard Gordon's argument that this development arose in part from the priests' own sense of their vocation. <sup>2</sup> As with the discussion of Thessalos, this section uses material found in similar discussions of religious interculturality in Roman Egypt—Chaeremon's idealised description of the priesthood, the apocalypticism of the <i>Asclepius</i> in the context of the Egyptian <i>Chaosbeschreibung</i>—but Bull succeeds in finding interesting new perspectives; once again he innovatively demonstrates the relationship between the Hermetica and politics, arguing the "impious new law" mentioned by the <i>Asclepius</i> to be the decree of 198/199 CE which outlawed traditional Egyptian divinatory practices. </p> <p>In his conclusion, Bull returns, albeit cautiously and with careful grounding, to Richard Reitzenstein's idea of the origin of the Hermetica in a small community of Hellenes interested in both Egyptian wisdom and Greek philosophy, led by Egyptian priests, perhaps in the Fayum of the first century, which may have expanded into a larger number of voluntary associations of the type well attested in Graeco-Roman Egypt.</p> <p>Bull's work represents an accessible yet profound and thoughtful introduction and handbook to the Hermetica, providing both a fair and thorough summary of previous work and a lucid approach to understanding them, and it is likely to become an invaluable reference work and source of further ideas in years to come. </p> <p>Potential readers may be disappointed to find relatively little engagement with the Demotic text published in 2005 by Richard Jasnow and Karl-Theodor Zauzich as the <i>Book of Thoth: A Demotic [...] Pendant to the Classical Hermetica</i>. This represents less Bull's failing than the fact that this text's connections to the Hermetica have proven less clear than originally hoped.<sup>3</sup> Bull's solution, rather than seeing the <i>Book of Thoth</i> as a direct predecessor, is to argue that a simple translation of such a text would have been unsatisfactory to a philosophically-oriented Hellenophone, requiring the priests to (re)invent an Egyptian tradition using their knowledge of Greek philosophy. This deep enmeshment of the corpus with Greek texts is apparent from Bull's able exegesis of the texts in this second part, but it was precisely this feature that led Festugière to suggest the Egyptian elements to be largely decorative. This complicates the priest-as-authors hypothesis, intended to explain the presence of Egyptian ideas, to which priestly authors would have unique access, an explanation which loses power according to the degree to which such Egyptian ideas are absent or ambiguous. A second problem, perhaps a resolution to the first, arises from Bull's convincing demonstration that many of the central ideas contained in the Hermetica were already circulating in Greek in the early Roman period, and likely earlier. If many of the borrowings from Egyptian theology were already accessible to and used by hellenophone authors before the writing of the philosophical Hermetica, this may further reduce the need to presuppose priestly authors writing <i>qua</i> priests, that is, as inheritors of tradition that only they could mediate. </p> <p>Another problem of chronology is apparent in Bull's use of Frankfurter's theory of the commoditisation of priestly knowledge following the decline of the temples, originally intended to explain the high number of magical formularies that survive from the third and fourth centuries CE.<sup>4</sup> Bull proposes that the priests were already seeking non-traditional sources of income in the first and second centuries, yet despite the policies of the Roman administration, a decline is much less apparent at this period. </p> <p>None of the objections raised here reduce the value of Bull's work as a major advance in our knowledge of Hermeticism; rather they represent unresolved issues in the studies upon which he builds, and they point the way towards research which may nuance our understanding of socio-ethnic identity and the transmission of knowledge in the Roman Mediterranean even further. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Garth Fowden, <i>The Egyptian Hermes</i> (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986); David Frankfurter, <i>Religion in Roman Egypt: Assimilation and Resistance</i> (New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1998); Jacco Dieleman, <i>Priests, Tongues and Rites: The London-Leiden Magical Manuscriptsand Translation in Egyptian Ritual (100–300 CE)</i> (Leiden: Brill, 2005). <br> 2. Frankfurter, <i>Religion in Roman Egypt</i>, pp.225-237; Richard Gordon, "Shaping the Text: Innovation and Authority in Graeco-Egyptian Malign Magic," in <i>Kykeon: Studies in Honour of H.S. Versnel</i>, edited by Herman F.J. Horstmanshoff et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2002), pp. 71–76. <br> 3. Cf. Joachim F. Quack, "Die Initiation zum Schreiberberuf im Alten Ägypten", <i>Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur</i> 36 (2007), p.261. <br> 4. Frankfurter, <i>Religion in Roman Egypt</i>, pp.214-233. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-60255356607746372632020-02-11T21:21:00.001-05:002020-02-11T21:21:03.634-05:002020.02.22Caterina Barone, Francesco Puccio (ed.), <i>Profanazioni.</i> Ithaca; Padova: CLEUP, 2018. Pp. 248. ISBN 9788867879250. €26,00 (pb). <p>Reviewed by John Henderson, King's College (Cambridge) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-22.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>The keynote essay <i>Profanazioni</i> in a 2005 jamboree of associative short essays by the prolific political theorist Giorgio Agamben (pp.83-106) interlaces remarks featuring Trebatius and Roman law, Benveniste and play (viz. <i>gioco</i>), Benjamin and capitalism as religion, Freud and Pope John XXII, the world as Museum and the pornostar, to dig into profanation as any tricksy process of <i>restoration to free use of people</i> to the coming C21st generation to apply themself to <i>profane the unprofanable</i> (viz. the all-swamping destruction of creativity, freedom and joy represented by capitalism). To be sure, a politicizing call, profaning, liberating, joyous..., to be read in its collection's solidary barricade of essays, but also within the voluminous corpus headed <i>Homo sacer</i>. Now the proceedings of a 2017 international conference under the auspices of the Dipartimento dei Beni Culturali at Padova pick up on the core notion of Giamben-profanation, in a baker's doz. of sundry short essays that include topics directly relating to classical studies. </p> <p>Full of surprises throughout (not least when essays 11 and 13 profane the Italian language with the Spanish tongue), this makes a handsome paperback, rounded out by a remarkably generous gazette of illustrations from within the book now enlarged to page-size and now reproduced, where relevant, in colour, and I have indeed enjoyed reading the ensemble, though I should perhaps warn of a complete lack of profanity, and only a disappearing, though as we shall see not despairing, dollop of the canon law-and-defecation element in Giamben's <i>giambico</i> game (nb this is <i>my gioco</i>). </p> <p>A brisk introduction situates the volume and checks through the contributions. I follow suit, dummying for the Indices we don't get, as is the Italian way, by highlighting classical referents.</p> <p>1. Archaeology/Epigraphy: a review of the mainly C3rd CE tomb inscriptions featuring what have been lumped together as <i>Raised hands</i> somewhere within a pictorial area or in with text or between both, and instead of probing for a common inspiration and so variants of a motif opens up imprecation to an expressive multi-directional discourse, a hands-on, hands-off, whose hands anyway, double-handed swipe. </p> <p>2. Film. (How) To show the corpses of dead, wounded, <i>et sim.</i> soldiers? The essay undoes (yes, profanes) a shibboleth that says Italian filming of WW1 reserved such abomination from public viewing. Footage from the time doesn't, but inter-war compilation and re-cycling of that footage does, heavily monitor <i>the fallen</i> friend and <i>foe</i>, and we're left to fill in how we think we are are dealing with our versions of such desecration, residual or re-inforced, through the wwww.</p> <p></p> 3-8 Theatre:<br> 3-4. Tragic theatre.<br> 3. The <i>Medea</i>s. Explore contemporary <i>transfocalization</i> of the tragedy around the children. Profane Euripides, release connection with our theatres, re-wire our cultures into, but through, the sacred legacy. What children can do to us. (btw All Euripides, no Seneca.) <br> 4. <i>Ajax</i>, <i>Persians</i> and <i>Heraclidae</i>; <i>Supplices</i>, <i>Peace</i>, <i>Octavia</i>. How classical plays are utilizable for therapy, as in post-trauma programmes, weaponizable for political activisms, realizable beyond the theatre.<br> <p></p> 5-6 Comedy: <i>Birds</i>. <br> 5. Across five centuries, watch the profaner profaned, Aristophanes, sponsor one in/famous <i>flight of fancy</i> production after another. (Yes, flight <i>is</i> the craziest idea.) The thread is two-pl(a)y, profaned text, profaned theatre-space: free to join us, for us to join. <br> 6. Focus on C19th cultural dissemination of the semiotics of theatre tuned to the dashing of hope in delusion counterclashing with the giddiness of tripping out into utopia. Dance, music, costume, the thrills and spills of the show (in monsta-maestro footnote referencing.) <br> <p>7. <i>Symposium</i>. More tragedy, Agathon. More Aristophanes, Aristophanes. From scenographic discourse on erotics, through Alcibiades, to the politicization of erotic discourse. This essay stakes out a rich re-reading that goes straight to, and through, the heart of Plato's sacred theatre of language. Profaned, so released to befoul and free the polis. </p> <p>8. The spectator. Set free the theatre audience? They always were free, to make of theatre what they do, to make it mean what it must. As in essay 4, watch us join in; this springy essay boings us to think through, so liberate, spectatordom. For reals. </p> <p>(We have by now left behind classical names, if not games.)</p> <p></p> 8-10 Art History:<br> 9. Roberto Longhi's early forays into iconoclastic dismissal of art culture and critical apparatus, ground a career-trajectory of sweeping broadside profanation transmuted into a revelatory mission to cut the volumes of accreted dicta and instead, take icons off their pedestals, dethrone maestri, (don't read anyone <i>else's</i> books), open eyes. And (the sermon of the dismount) get real with art in your life. <br> 10. Ernst Kris's revaluation of the art of the disturbed makes for a revelatory release of a very different kind, reimagining realities with the psychoanalytic version of profanation: what's needed is a break-out consecration of politically pitched pyrotechnics on a societal basis. <br> <p>11. Political militancy. <i>Hola</i>! Onto the streets of Bogota: public space appropriated (along with everything else, remember) by the capitalist religion, and citizens barred from their sacred right to own it. A provocation (to think): street-traders doing business from a laden push-chair, under arrest. A stunt (<i>gioca</i>) from the Museum, with a human chain spanning from private space to vendor, so trade at a distance, across the reclassified space: political struggle figured as a process of marking, demarking, and remarking. Here's a graphic prompt to strike out a bit farther into Agamben heartland, via invocation of the notion of <i>Genius</i>, the unreachable person inside that <i>really</i> controls your creativity, sets terms for our freedom, etc. </p> <p>12. The Golem. The Talmudic-kabbalistic creature that does not enjoy but does (and how!) <i>humanoid creation from earth</i> anticipates by eons many perturbations now attaching to the conundrum of AI, but comes pre-fitted with an expansive commentary reaching back to OT abomination then forward through the minefield of Hashem, inside <i>our</i>beginning. </p> <p>13. Authorship. Appropriately enough, the sequence homes on Modernity's positioning of the Writer, a displacement of priesthood in turn displaced into 1960s obliteration, and since then resurrected in po'mo's nemesis, <i>autofiction</i>, which would reconsecrate author-ity, in a jocular <i>fiesta</i>of profanation. </p> <p>In the end, I wouldn't claim to have gleaned all <i>that</i> much <i>Agamben</i> from these games, but especially in the essays concerned with classical presence through reception drama, scholars will find clear presentation of stimulating materials and aperçus.</p> <p></p> <h4>Table of Contents</h4><p></p> <p></p> Caterina Barone, Alessandro Faccioli, Giuliana Tomasella, <i>Introduction</i>, 7<br> 1. Monica Salvadori, Luca Scalco, <i>Dall'</i> "Elogio della profanazione"<i>alla paura della violazione del sepolcro: per una rilettura delle mani alzate sui sepolcri di epoca romana</i>, 15<br> 2. Alessandro Faccioli, <i>Il corpo del nemico ucciso? Rappresentazione e censura nei filmati della Grande guerra</i>, 33<br> 3. Daniela Cavallaro, <i>Dalla parte dei bambini: i figli di Medea e Giasone nel teatro contemporaneo</i>, 53<br> 4. Caterina Barone, <i>Dall'intangibilità alla strumentalizzazione: il teatro greco come forma di propaganda politica</i>, 71<br> 5. Simone Beta, <i>Il dissacratore dissacrato: il</i>, "folle volo"<i> degli </i>Uccelli<i> di Aristofane dal Cinquecento a oggi</i>, 93<br> 6. Francesco Puccio, <i>Il dissacratore dissacrato: il</i>"folle volo"<i>degli </i>Uccelli<i> di Aristofane nel Novecento</i>, 107<br> 7. Alessandra Coppola, <i>Amore e politica: profanazioni sceniche e retoriche nel </i>Simposio<i> di Platone</i>, 117<br> 8. Anna Bandettini, <i>L'eresia dello spettatore</i>, 127<br> 9. Giuliana Tomasella, <i>Brevi ma veridiche storie: le profanazioni di Roberto Longhi</i>, 135<br> 10. Marta Nezzo, <i>Ernst Kris: storia dell'arte tra effrazioni e profanazioni</i>, 147<br> 11. Nicolás Leyva Townsend, <i>Bogotá: resistencias frente a la ideologización neoliberal del espacio público</i>, 161<br> 12. Barbara Henry, <i>I</i> "non nati/e da donna" <i>e la nozione di profanazione nella tradizione golemica</i>, 175<br> 13. Javier Sahuquillo, <i>Los autores profanados: la autoficción como género teatral </i>, 189<br> Bibliography, 203<br> Ills., 223-43<br> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-45427436014337349282020-02-11T21:03:00.001-05:002020-02-11T21:03:34.478-05:002020.02.21Jean-François Pradeau, <i>Plotin. Qui es-tu?.</i> Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 2019. Pp. 156. ISBN 9782204126533. €15,00. <p>Reviewed by John Dillon, Trinity College Dublin (jmdillon@eircom.net) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-21.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>This little—or at least, very compact—book, excellently constructed as it is, provides Francophone readers with a fine conspectus of all that is distinctive and important about Plotinus as a philosopher. Pradeau himself has been having much to do with Plotinus over the last decade or so, in company with Luc Brisson, in connection with co-authoring the valuable Flammarion edition of translations, with notes, of the tractates (in chronological order), and the work is doubtless to some extent a fruit of those labours. As such, it is most welcome.</p> <p>After a short introduction, in which he sets out his stall—he sees Plotinus as championing a return to the timeless truths enunciated by Plato, against the dominant (though declining) philosophical tradition of Stoicism, and in face of the rising threat of what he would see as the irrationalities, and disrespect for the wisdom of antiquity, of Christianity, and the various forms of Gnosticism—we are presented with a sequence of nine short chapters, dealing, first, with Plotinus' life and working environment in Rome (chs. 1-3), and then with Porphyry's strategy in putting together his edition of his master's works (ch. 4), with the last five chapters focusing on various aspects of his philosophical system. We are reminded of the peculiar—though comfortable—situation in which Plotinus found himself in Rome, under the patronage of the lady Gemina, and the informal nature of his school, together with his remarkable habits of composition, as related by Porphyry.</p> <p>In each of the later chapters, Pradeau picks out a key issue or issues relevant to Plotinus' philosophical position. In ch. 5, ('Un platonicien?'), he highlights the fact that the great majority of the tractates—and therefore of Plotinus' seminars—take their start from an <i>aporia</i> arising out of some Platonic passage or other, and deal with it, normally, through the lens of later Platonist, Aristotelian, or even Stoic positions, though without ever explicitly challenging Plato's infallibility. In ch. 6 ('L'inventeur d'une philosophie nouvelle? L'apparition du néoplatonisme'), he dwells on the salient features of Plotinus' form of Platonism, as opposed to that of his immediate predecessors, viz. the rejection of dualism, as well as of tendencies towards the adoption of theurgical or religious practices, and the supplanting of that by a doctrine of progressive emanation of all things from a single first principle; the development of the doctrine of a supra-intellectual and radically simple One; and the concept of a part of the soul, or of the personality, that does not 'descend', but remains ever embedded in Intellect.</p> <p>And indeed it is to these three topics that the last three chapters are devoted: Pradeau is not concerned to give an exhaustive account of Plotinus' philosophy, but rather to focus on salient points. The three features that he selects are indeed the most distinctive aspects of Plotinus' philosophy. In ch. 7 ('La méchanique de la procession'), he provides a most refined analysis of the mechanism of procession, from the One to Intellect, and from there to Soul and beyond, with due attention also to the corresponding process of 'return' In this connection, he focuses on the exegesis of just two key passages from the <i>Enneads</i>, ch. 6 of Tractate 10 [V.1], and ch. 1 of Tractate 11 [V.2], both very aptly chosen. The chief problems to be addressed are the nature of the 'overflow' from a first principle that is absolutely simple and absolutely self-sufficient, and how it generates both multiplicity and the desire and capacity of the lower principles thus generated to turn back towards their source, and thus generate themselves.</p> <p>He next (ch 8: 'L'un: premier, indicible, insaisissable') tackles the topic of the One itself, and why Plotinus felt it necessary to postulate it. In this connection, after having noted how Plotinus' presentation of an ineffable first principle attracted such French philosophers as Bergson, Jankelevich and Levinas, he once again picks out some key passages to discuss, in this case ch. 6 of tractate 32 [V.5], and ch. 7 of 10 [V.1], which are indeed key passages for setting out both the otherness of the One and its connection with what follows from it. He then makes the interesting move of adducing the doctrine of an influential predecessor of Plotinus, the Neopythagorean Numenius, who does postulate a system involving three levels of reality, with at the top a divinity described as an 'intellect at rest', which could indeed have provided a stimulus to Plotinus' postulation of a first principle above Intellect altogether; and he follows this by making an enlightening contrast between the systems of Plotinus and Proclus—all this to emphasise the originality of Plotinus' position.</p> <p>Lastly, in ch. 9 ('L'âme humaine peut-elle remonter vers son principe?'), Pradeau focuses on what is distinctive about Plotinus' doctrine of the human soul—specifically, its non-descended element—noting how this position of his is rejected by later Platonists, from Iamblichus on. He also includes some pertinent remarks about matter, and the sense in which it is 'evil' for Plotinus: it is 'evil', really, only as a negativity.</p> <p>The work is rounded off by a short conclusion, in which he reminds us of the remarkable way in which what seems to be the complete corpus of Plotinus' writings was preserved in later antiquity, and filtered down also through the mediaeval culture of the Arab world, till it was restored to the early Renaissance West by the industriousness of Marsilio Ficino.</p> <p>All in all, this is a very finely composed little work, aimed, I presume, primarily at the reader seeking an acquaintance with Plotinus' thought, but replete with insights for all who appreciate his genius.</p> <p> </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-12086403222341426032020-02-10T19:57:00.001-05:002020-02-10T19:57:04.877-05:002020.02.20Jacopo Tabolli (ed.), <i>From Invisible to Visible: New Methods and Data for the Archaeology of Infant and Child Burials in Pre-Roman Italy and Beyond. Studies in Mediterranean archaeology, 149.</i> Uppsala: Astrom Editions, 2018. Pp. 273. ISBN 9789925745524. €68,00. <p>Reviewed by Reine-Marie Bérard, CNRS, Aix Marseille Université, Centre Camille Jullian (Reine-marie.berard@univ-amu.fr) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-20.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>[The Table of Contents is listed at the end of the review.]</p> <p>This volume is the outcome of an international conference organised by Jacopo Tabolli in 2017 at Trinity College Dublin. After a short editor's preface, the book is divided into six parts and 23 papers, dealing with archaeological, anthropological and epigraphical data. The first part focuses on methodological and theoretical approaches; it references other disciplines such as ethnography, psychology and contemporary history. The five other parts are organized geographically: Ancient Rome and Italy (part 2); Veii and Tarquinia (part 3); northern sites from Tivoli to Verona (part 4); Abruzzo and Samnium (part 5); Sicily, Motya and Sardinia (part 6). The addenda constitute a seventh part without any real unity that pairs a paper about in-field conservation methods for child burials and a report focusing on two late antique graves from Macedonia; regardless of its interest, it clearly deviates from the chrono-cultural frame of the volume. </p> <p>This book is one of a series of recent works about the archaeology of childhood in antiquity, which now constitute a bibliography on a topic that was for a long time significantly deficient. <sup>1</sup> It underlines the importance of funerary data in understanding infants and children in ancient societies, since they are often silent and invisible in other sources. With its specific geographical and chronological framework (though the notion of 'pre-Roman Italy', which does not correspond to any ancient cultural, ethnic or political reality, is never discussed), this volume provides an important contribution to the current debate by offering new data on various contexts long unknown. It is impossible to comment on each contribution in this brief review, but a few points can be underlined. </p> <p>First, many authors discuss methodological problems raised by the study of infant and child burials, the most important of which is no doubt the difficulty of in-field identification. In this regard, the paper of Angela Trentacoste <i>et alii</i> is striking. It examines infant bones from two Etruscan sites, found during laboratory studies to be commingled with zooarcheological remains, because nobody had been able to recognise them in the field. Indeed, infant bones and burials often go unidentified by archaeologists, especially outside explicitly funerary contexts. The recent evolution of funerary archaeology towards a greater specialisation and collaboration with anthropologists directly in the field has changed many things, and the possibility of getting precise anthropological data is a key element for understanding the mortuary treatment of children. The paper of Claudia Lambrugo on the Peucetian site of Jazzo Fornasiello (Basilicata) notably illustrates the results of such collaboration. The excavation and study of the infant pot burials found in the settlement area allowed recognition of the precise organization of graves of various phases found inside the settlement, and even the phases of use and commemoration of every single grave. It was only by the careful examination of the skeletons, of the position of the bones, and of the very fine stratigraphy inside the graves that the author could reach her conclusions. Of course, not all the papers rely on such good anthropological and archaeological data: some deal with older excavations, with only lab studies on a limited number of graves. Yet most of the authors give great importance to the anthropological data they can get and that is certainly a sign of a recent and major evolution of the discipline. </p> <p>Nonetheless, a systematic presentation of the methods is essential and not always available. For example, M.J. Becker — one of the very first anthropologists to have worked on large cemeteries from pre-Roman Italy — claims in his paper to have found an 'extremely accurate' method for identifying the sex of a cremated individual 'where at least 100 g of bones were recovered' (p. 98). Yet, as the author himself underlines, the rate of sex identification for burned remains is usually much lower. Given the importance of such affirmation, the reader wishes to have more details. Relatedly, a methodological reflection and discussion of the difference between sex and gender could have been useful, perhaps in an introduction, since confusion is obvious in several papers. It is also important to remember that no anthropological method has yet proved to be statistically effective in determining the biological sex of the remains of pre-pubescent individuals. One should thus remain extremely cautious about all the assumptions concerning the partition of child burials between males and females proposed in various contributions.</p> <p>Another interesting discussion raised by this book is that of the definition of age groups. Indeed, many papers use the terms 'infant', 'children', 'immature' and 'subadults', but not always when referring to the same age ranges. The authors are certainly not to blame for such variations, only reflect the absence of general agreement on the definition of these terms in archaeological studies. Yet it would have been interesting to deal with this issue in the introduction, and even to put forward a standard definition that all the authors could have followed. Among the contributors, Deneb T. Cesana and Vincenzo d'Ercole tackle the question with the greatest accuracy. First, they underline the problems related to the anthropological habit of dividing subadults in five-year groups, inferred from demographic methodologies, while 'they do not correspond to the stages of growth, child development and risk of death' (p. 160). They also lay stress on the difficulties of reconciling the different notions of age: biological, morphological, civil and social. The last category is undoubtedly the most significant in an historical perspective, and it appears central in many contributions. </p> <p>Several papers indeed draw on the variations of funerary treatment to discuss the existence of possible thresholds related to the construction of childhood and personhood in pre-Roman Italy. The age of four seems to be an important transition on several sites: while children older than this age were buried with adults in specific funerary spaces, younger ones were buried within or around the houses. The period between three and five years indeed appears as a crucial moment for the construction of child identity in many ancient and modern societies, as Francesca Fulminante underlines, using archaeological, ethnographic and psychological data. At several sites covered in this volume, another important threshold appears to be around the age of one.</p> <p>The selection of the cemetery population on the basis of age comes as no great surprise, since the absence or underrepresentation of infants and young children in ancient cemeteries is frequently underlined. In a well-known work, Ian Morris even theorised the exclusion of children from the urban cemeteries of ancient Athens as a sign that subadults were considered to be 'social non-persons'. <sup>2</sup> It is particularly interesting that several authors in the volume under review offer a completely different way of contemplating child burials in settlement areas. For example, A. De Santis <i>et alii</i> insist that in ancient Latium, rich infant burials were at the border of the settlement. They thus possibly represent a means through which aristocratic family groups delimited their space of representation and power. Another interesting case presented by Marcello Mogetta and Sheira Cohen is that of four child burials from the Early Iron Age in the settlement of Gabii: these very young children received wealthy grave goods, including an exceptional bronze shroud. The fact that these graves were not inside the houses but at their borders, suggests that they were made to be seen by the neighbouring families, being part of a complex system of representation. Though buried inside the settlement, in death these children thus became important social actors.</p> <p>In some other cases, age does not at all seem to be a relevant criterion for access to cemeteries. Such is the case in the Final Bronze Age cemeteries from the Middle Adriatic region presented by Deneb Cesana and Vincenzo d'Ercole. Indeed, around 33% of the graves in these burial grounds contain subadults, a proportion that may correspond to rates of child mortality expected for pre-industrial societies. In other cases, the selection does not appear to depend strictly on age, but rather on status. Joachim Weidig and Nicola Bruni present the exceptional case of the 8<sup>th</sup> to 6<sup>th</sup> century necropolis of Piazza d'Armi in Spoleto (Umbria). Though young children are rare in this necropolis, six of them were buried in what seems to be a family group. Three of these graves contained weapons, and one is particularly remarkable. It contained an infant, aged 9-to-12 months, who had received exceptional funerary offerings, including many ceramics, some of a seemingly purely ritual function. But there were also several weapons and two small disc-cuirasses made at a size proportional to the infant, though not worn in the grave. Given the striking insistence on the status of a young child, who certainly had no achievements of his own at such a young age, the authors conclude the existence of a system of status and wealth inheritance among aristocratic groups in pre-Roman Umbria. Status inheritance is also central in the 8<sup>th</sup> and 7<sup>th</sup> century Picene necropolis of Novilara presented by Chiara Delpino. For pre- Roman Samnium, Elisa Perego and Rafael Scopacasa go even further by interpreting some rich child burials as a sign that these children may have had important roles and full social personhood not only in death, but even in life. </p> <p>In different ways, all these cases show that infant and child burials had a form of agency, and this may be one of the greatest points of originality of this book: not taking the exclusion of subadults from ancient social communities for granted. On the contrary, many authors propose new and positive ways to interpret the variations of the funerary treatment of children, even in their apparent marginalisation. </p> <p>On the other hand, some contributions in this volume take the very delicate side of suggesting that the specifics of the mortuary treatment of some children might indicate human sacrifice. One remains very sceptical about the cases from Tarquinia very briefly presented by Maria Bonghi Jovino with no further argument than the localisation of the graves in the vicinity of a possible temple. The interpretation that Maria Antonietta Fufazzola Delpino gives of some child burials from 9<sup>th</sup> and 8<sup>th</sup> century Tivoli is also very questionable. While no anthropological data is available, based only on the observation of the crushing of their skeletons by heavy stones, the author boldly concludes that several children were sacrificed. The much more probable hypothesis that these stones simply collapsed from a no-longer extant, perishable tomb cover is briefly raised by the author, only to be discarded without any convincing argument. Other evidence for these 'sacrifices' would be the crouched position of some children, the lack of grave goods and the presence of a circle of stones around the grave. According to the author, it was 'intended to limit its area and warn people that it contained a sacrificial victim' (p. 110). Yet the author herself also presents a stone-circled grave with a very rich set of grave goods, both fine ceramics and bronze ornaments which suggests that that stone circles were not restricted to poor graves, and thus were not a sign of exclusion from the social community (p. 109). Finally, the reference to late Roman authors, some from the 4<sup>th</sup> and 5<sup>th</sup> centuries AD, which point to human sacrifice in pre-Roman populations, appears to be a weak argument to deal with burials fourteen centuries older. </p> <p>Regardless of these possible disagreements, one will appreciate the completeness of the volume and the general quality of its papers that present mainly unpublished and stimulating data. Let us hope that it will encourage the development of further in-field interdisciplinary collaboration among archaeologists, physical anthropologists and other specialists. Such collaboration will undoubtedly be a key element for the renewal of our knowledge on childhood construction and child life and death in ancient societies. </p> <p></p> <h4>Table of Contents</h4><p></p> <p></p> 1. Introduction. Addressing methods: past and present<br> 1.1. Jean MacIntosh Turfa – Archaeology's <i>Tir Na N-og</i> ('The Land of the Young'): understanding burials of children in ancient Italy (pp. 3-11)<br> 1.2. Alessandra Piergrossi and Jacopo Tabolli – Hide and seek. Searching for theories and methods within the 'history of research' for infant and child burials in central Tyrrhenian Italy (pp. 13-19)<br> 1.3. Valentino Nizzo – 'Rites of passage beyond death'. Liminal strategies and premature death in protohistoric communities (pp. 21-28)<br> 1.4. Francesca Fulminante – Intersecting age and social boundaries in sub-adult burials of central Italy during the 1<sup>st</sup> millennium BC (pp. 29-38)<br> <br> 2. Including or secluding infants between Rome and Latium<br> 2.1. Anna De Santis, Iefke van Kampen, Clementina Panella, Paola Catalano, Carla Caldarini, Andrea Battistini, Walter B. Pantano, Claudia Minniti, Alessandra Celant, Donatella Magri, Antonio Ferrandes and Francesca Romana Fiano – Infant burials related to inhabited areas in Rome: new results for understanding socio-cultural structures of an ancient community (pp. 41-46)<br> 2.2. Marcello Mogetta and Sheira Cohen – Infant and young child burial practices from an elite domestic compound at Early Iron Age and Orientalising Gabii (pp. 47-57)<br> 2.3. Marijke Gnade – A new Iron Age child burial from Satricum (pp. 59-68)<br> <br> 3. New old data from south Etruria<br> 3.1. Jacopo Tabolli – What to expect when you are not expecting. Time and space for infant and child burials at Veii in the necropolis of Grotta Gramiccia (pp. 71-82)<br> 3.2. Maria Bonghi Jovino – Tarquinia. Infant burials in the inhabited area: a short reappraisal (pp. 83-87)<br> 3.3. Marshall J. Becker – Infancy and childhood at pre-Roman Tarquinia: the necropolis of Le Rose as an example of regional patterns and cultural borders during the Early Iron Age (9<sup>th</sup>–early 8<sup>th</sup> centuries BC) (pp. 89-100).<br> <br> 4. Meeting differences while going north<br> 4.1. Maria Antonietta Fugazzola Delpino – Infant and child burials in the area of Rocca Pia at Tivoli. Ritual customs, defensive magic, funerary ceremonies and human sacrifices (pp. 103-112)<br> 4.2. Joachim Weidig and Nicola Bruni – Little heirs of an Umbrian royal family of the 7<sup>th</sup> century BC (pp. 113-121)<br> 4.3. Chiara Delpino – Infant and child burials in the Picene necropolis of Novilara (Pesaro): the 2012-2013 excavations (pp. 123- 131)<br> 4.4. Angela Trentacoste, Sarah Kansa, Antony Tuck and Suellen Gauld – Out with the bath water? Infant remains in pre-Roman zooarchaeological assemblages (pp. 133-142)<br> 4.5. Simona Marchesini and David Stifter – Inscriptions from Italo-Celtic burials in the Seminario maggiore (Verona) (pp. 143-154)<br> <br> 5.Childhood (in)visibility in south Italy<br> 5.1. Deneb T. Cesana and Vincenzo d'Ercole – Infant burials in the Middle Adriatic area (Abruzzo, central Italy) from the Final Bronze Age to the Archaic period: new data through a bioarchaeological approach (pp. 157-165)<br> 5.2. Elisa Perego and Rafael Scopacasa – Children and marginality in pre-Roman Samnium: a personhood-focused approach (pp. 167-176). <br> 5.3. Claudia Lambrugo – Peucetian babies. New data from the <i>enchytrismoi</i> at Jazzo Fornasiello (Gravina in Puglia-BA) (pp. 177-184)<br> <br> 6. Landing on the islands<br> 6.1. Massimo Cultraro – Searching for the missing corpses: infant and child burials in southeastern Sicily from the Late Bronze Age to the Early Iron Age (pp. 187-195)<br> 6.2. Adriano Orsingher – Forever young: rethinking infancy and childhood in Motya (pp. 197-206)<br> 6.3. Michele Guirguis, Rosana Pla Orquín and Elisa Pompianou – Premature deaths in Punic Sardinia. The perception of childhood in funerary contexts from Monte Sirai and Villamar (pp. 207-215).<br> <br> 7. Addenda<br> 7.1. Wilma Basilissi – 'First aid' and in-field conservation for infant and child bones in archaeological contexts: notes on problems, methodology and operational criteria in Pre-Roman archaeology (pp. 219-224). <br> 7.2 Paraskevi Tritsaroli and Meropi Ziogana – Bioarchaeological investigation of childhood in Late Antiquity: a case analysis from northern Pieria, Greece (pp. 225-234) Bibliography (p. 235)<br> Index (p. 273)<br> <p></p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Among others: J. Baxter, <i>The archaeology of childhood: children, gender, and material culture</i>, Walnut Creek, 2005; A.M. Guimier-Sorbets, Y. Morizot (ed) <i>L'enfant et la mort dans l'Antiquité, I. Le signalement des tombes d'enfants</i>, Paris, 2010; A. Hermary, C Dubois (ed), <i>L'enfant et la mort dans l'Antiquité, III. Le matériel associé aux tombes d'enfants</i>, Aix-en-Provence, 2012; M.D. Nenna (ed.), <i>L'enfant et la mort dans l'Antiquité, II. Types de tombes et traitement du corps des enfants dans l'Antiquité gréco-romaine</i>, Alexandrie, 2012; C. Lambrugo (ed), <i>Una favola breve: archeologia e antropologia per la storia dell'infanzia</i>, Sesto Fiorentino, 2019. <br> 2. I. Morris, <i>Burial and ancient society: the rise of the Greek city-state</i>, Cambridge, 1987. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-5602228614241984372020-02-10T19:12:00.001-05:002020-02-10T19:12:57.789-05:002020.02.19Marie-Pierre Chaufray, Ivan Guermeur, Sandra Luisa Lippert, Vincent Rondot (ed.), <i>Le Fayoum: archéologie, histoire, religion: actes du sixième colloque international, Montpellier, 26-28 octobre 2016.</i> Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 2018. Pp. ix, 226. ISBN 9783447109772. €49,00. <p>Reviewed by Paola Davoli, Università del Salento (paola.davoli@unisalento.it) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-19.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]</p> <p>Il volume pubblica gli Atti del sesto colloquio internazionale dedicato al Fayyum, con tredici<sup>1</sup> interventi che coprono argomenti diversi dal Medio Regno all'inizio dell'epoca araba. Il contenuto del volume è ben sintetizzato nella prefazione dei curatori, che lo hanno suddiviso in parti cronologiche: l'epoca faraonica con due articoli; l'epoca Greco-Romana con otto articoli; e l'epoca bizantina e araba con tre contributi. </p> <p>Il volume si inserisce nella serie degli atti dei Convegni dedicati specificamente al Fayyum. La qualità editoriale è buona da ogni punto di vista. Per la prima volta si registra la presenza di un contributo su documenti in copto e va anche registrata la massiccia presenza di articoli specialistici su testi demotici. Molti articoli presentano progetti in corso, sia le loro premesse sia i primi risultati della ricerca. Solo in alcuni casi gli autori hanno affrontato i temi in modo storico, offrendo ampie panoramiche su periodi di tempo anche limitati, tenendo conto di più tipi di fonti. Lo studio della società e dei suoi cambiamenti nel tempo sembrano essere i temi principali su cui si focalizzano molte delle ricerche qui presentate. Lo sbilanciamento dei contributi verso l'epoca greco-romana riflette il dato quantitativo oggettivo delle fonti superstiti nella regione.</p> <p>V. Rondot tratta di un blocco acquistato nel 2014 dal Museo del Louvre (inv. E 33167) e proveniente dal Labirinto di Hawara. Il blocco, messo all'asta da Christie's nel 2012, venne trovato da W.M.F. Petrie ed era entrato in una collezione privata. L'autore discute la funzionalità del blocco, ritenuto da Petrie la base di una statua, ma conclude che si tratta forse più probabilmente di parte di una monumentale tavola per offerte. </p> <p>M. Zecchi tratta di nomi personali del Medio e Nuovo Regno nel Fayyum composti con nomi di divinità e di sovrani. 440 nomi del Medio Regno sono stati identificati; di questi il 19.2% sono teofori e il 5.2% sono composti con nomi regali, per lo più della XII dinastia, da Amenemhat I a IV, e molti si riferiscono a Senusret II. I nomi basilofori cambiano nel Nuovo Regno, in cui i nomi di Sety I e Ramesse II sostituiscono quelli antichi. Come ci si potrebbe facilmente aspettare, Sobek è la divinità maggiormente presente nei nomi teofori del Medio Regno con il 27% delle attestazioni. Nel Nuovo Regno invece, i nomi composti con Sobek diminuiscono drasticamente in percentuale (rappresentano solo il 3% di tutti i nomi) a favore di quelli composti con i nomi della triade tebana (7.4%). Numerose sono le implicazioni metodologiche e di interpretazione dei dati efficacemente illustrate. Tra le conclusioni cui perviene l'A. vi è la constatazione che la scelta del nome proprio non è frutto solo di dinamiche familiari, ma può essere indice di sostanziali cambiamenti culturali nella società.</p> <p>M.-P. Chaufray presenta una panoramica sui papiri demotici, amministrativi, datati al III sec. a.C., che, rinvenuti a Magdola da P. Jouguet e ora conservati all'Istituto di Papirologia della Sorbonne (Parigi), saranno studiati nell'ambito del progetto ERC - GESHAEM. Molti sono i documenti ancora inediti dagli scavi di Ghoran e Magdola, ma anche da acquisto. Su 206 papiri di Magdola, 127 sono ancora inediti. Tra i testi vi sono registri di terreni, sul cui verso sono testi amministrativi di varia natura. Tali registri su lunghi papiri vennero utilizzati, smembrati, in cartonnages di mummie diverse. Uno di essi (inv. 258 e 271) deve essere ricostruito con vari frammenti da varie mummie e sicuramente apporterà importanti dati nuovi sulla imposta sul sale, sulla presenza di Greci nella regione, sull'amministrazione fiscale nei villaggi della <i>meris</i> di Polemon. </p> <p>A. Jördens propone un'ardita lettura di Soknopaiou Nesos come di una Disneyland <i>ante litteram</i> del mondo antico. Lo studio si pone l'obbiettivo di spiegare attraverso i testi le possibili ragioni dell'abbandono dell'insediamento entro la metà del III secolo d.C., in anticipo rispetto alla generale crisi che colpisce il Fayyum. Secondo l'A. le ragioni possono essere ricercate nella natura essenzialmente templare e rituale dell'insediamento, che doveva attirare fedeli e pellegrini per assistere alle processioni e all'oracolo della divinità, una sorta di luogo di attrazione che, come Disneyland, ha la sua ragion d'essere in una sola attività. Il venir meno di tali pratiche avrebbe determinato l'abbandono del sito che ha perso la sua unica funzione, quella rituale.</p> <p>Testi legali e amministrativi in demotico da Tebtynis nella collezione Carlsberg di Copenhagen sono presentati da C.J. Martin come parte di un progetto di pubblicazione insieme con K. Ryholt. L'A. sottolinea l'importanza di questo gruppo di papiri legali e amministrativi, meno noti rispetto ai papiri della biblioteca del tempio di Tebtynis, anch'essi nella stessa collezione. Il gruppo consta di circa 90 papiri, per la maggior parte tolemaici, che vennero acquistati negli anni 1930 da M. Nahman e J. Tano in vari lotti. Alcuni sono riunificabili con frammenti nel British Museum. L'articolo quindi si focalizza sui P.Carlsberg 550, 512, 476, 292, 471, 584. </p> <p>B. Muhs tratta di un gruppo di ostraca tolemaici (III-II a.C.) demotici, greci e bilingui, che probabilmente provengono da Philadelphia e contengono testi connessi con l'amministrazione giudiziaria. In particolare, si tratta di note di una prigione in cui si elencano le date in cui i prigionieri arrivano alla prigione, quando vengono rilasciati, i nomi dei garanti che pagano la cauzione per il loro rilascio. Di questi, 150 "imprisonment ostraca" sono conservati presso il Kelsey Museum di Ann Arbor, mentre altri 3 sono nella collezione dell'Università di Copenhagen. I primi vennero acquistati da F.W. Kelsey nel 1920 e nel 1925 da D. Askren, un medico americano che lavorava nel Fayyum e in contatto con M. Nahman, mentre H.O. Lange acquistò gli esemplari di Copenhagen nel 1931 da Zaki Mahmud Abd es-Samad. L'A. ritiene che gli ostraca siano stati deliberatamente rotti nell'antichità al termine del loro utilizzo, che doveva essere di breve durata: il testo doveva molto probabilmente essere riversato su papiro, forse organizzato per informazioni inerenti i singoli individui, come nel caso del P.Petrie III 28 in greco. Gli ostraca testimoniano molte incarcerazioni per debiti.</p> <p>L. Prada illustra un progetto in corso relativo a scuole e testi scolastici dal Fayyum dall'Epoca Tarda a quella greco-romana, di cui si descrivono le caratteristiche e la metodologia. Nell'articolo si prende in considerazione il P.Schulübung (testo demotico sul recto del P.Berlin P 13639), tradizionalmente ritenuto un esercizio scolastico da Tebe, e qui reinterpretato come un testo scolastico (<i>textbook</i>) dal Fayyum. Un nuovo frammento che si unisce direttamente al primo è stato di recente identificato dall'A. nella collezione della University of Michigan (P.Michigan Dem 6445a). </p> <p>Ancora di papiri demotici tratta l'articolo di K. Ryholt, in particolare dei nuovi ritrovamenti della Missione Franco-Italiana a Tebtynis (1988-2016). L'A. è il responsabile di un progetto di pubblicazione dei papiri demotici, di cui elenca i partecipanti.<sup>2</sup> La maggior parte dei testi proviene dalla discarica ad est del tempio e data per lo più al II d.C. I papiri sembrano attestare un uso della discarica prevalentemente da parte del tempio: documenti non più utili all'amministrazione templare, documenti privati relativi a sacerdoti, domande oracolari, liste di conti, copie di testi presenti nella biblioteca del tempio e rinvenuta <i>in situ</i>. Grazie al coinvolgimento dell'A. nello scavo archeologico è stato possibile capire che molti dei papiri acquistati negli anni 1920 e 1930 e ora nella Carlsberg Collection provengono da scavi clandestini effettuati nella stessa discarica. 650 papiri demotici sono stati scelti per la pubblicazione.</p> <p>M. Schentuleit si interroga sulle potenzialità e sui limiti della documentazione bilingue demotica e greca, analizzando il titolo di "Phylenpriesterin", ovvero sacerdotessa della phyle, titolo che è presente nei testi in greco, ma non in quelli in demotico.</p> <p>B. Sippel analizza il clero di Soknopaoiu Nesos di epoca Romana e in particolare i documenti che attestano prestiti privati. Si tratta di un vasto argomento di tesi di dottorato che riguarda anche testi analoghi da altri centri del Fayyum. Questa vasta raccolta ha consentito all'A. di capire che la maggior parte dei prestiti veniva gestita a Soknopaiou Nesos tra famiglie di sacerdoti e che le somme prestate o chieste in prestito sono molto più elevate di quelle documentate in altri insediamenti del Fayyum. L'A. ritiene queste due caratteristiche specifiche della situazione geografica e sociale di Soknopaiou Nesos e tenta di spiegare le ragioni di così alte somme chieste a prestito – che peraltro vengono sempre puntualmente restituite – con attività legate al commercio e all'allevamento dei cammelli.</p> <p>Nella sezione dedicata all'epoca bizantina e araba si contano tre articoli. T. Derda e J. Wegner esaminano l'insediamento monastico di Deir el-Naqlun tra il V e il VII secolo attraverso le testimonianze papiracee e letterarie. Dal 1986 l'area è oggetto di scavi archeologici e studi da parte della missione polacca diretta da W. Godlewski, che ha portato alla luce resti dell'antico insediamento monastico che si estendeva dietro all'attuale monastero, e zone di eremitaggio a est e a ovest dell'altopiano (Naqlun gebel). Molti testi sono stati recuperati, in greco, copto e arabo, inclusa <i>La vita di Samuel di Kalamun</i>, un'opera letteraria del VIII secolo che narra la vita del fondatore, monaco monofisita, di Kalamun. Il sito quindi si presta bene ad uno studio integrato delle fonti archeologiche e testuali. I testi rinvenuti sono nella maggior parte in greco e sono documenti inerenti prestiti e contratti di vario tipo. La documentazione attesta una comunità benestante, con membri economicamente indipendenti e in contatto con il mondo esterno, anche con l'<i>élite</i> governativa. </p> <p>Al periodo immediatamente successivo è dedicato l'articolo di W. Godlewski. Si analizza l'insediamento monastico di Naqlun nella prima metà del VII secolo, periodo di importanti cambiamenti sociali e politici per l'Egitto a causa di conflitti teologici, della presenza dei Sassanidi (619-629 d.C.) e in seguito della conquista araba. Il caso di Naqlun offre una rara opportunità per capire come la comunità locale abbia reagito o abbia percepito tali eventi. Dai testi dell'epoca fino ad ora rinvenuti sembra che la comunità locale non abbia particolarmente sofferto le controversie religiose, forse a causa della lontananza da Alessandria e il relativo isolamento. I problemi insorsero con la visita del vescovo di Alessandria Ciro al Fayyum. Ne abbiamo un racconto ne <i>La vita di Samuel</i>, in cui solo un monaco incontra Ciro a Naqlun. I cruenti eventi che seguirono la conquista araba del 641 sono visibili nella distruzione dell'eremitaggio A. Non si sa che fine abbiano fatto i monaci, che ritornarono solo dopo qualche anno e ricostruirono tutto. I testi di questa fase passarono dal greco al copto e all'arabo. La nuova comunità si configura maggiormente come cenobitica e chiusa.</p> <p>Ai documenti copti dell'inizio dell'epoca araba, E. Garel dedica il suo intervento ripercorrendo la storia delle acquisizioni e delle pubblicazioni, e dipinge un quadro generale in cui si inseriscono numerosi testi editi e inediti, il cui studio e ri-pubblicazione apporterebbero nuovi e precisi dati storici sulla società della regione. Le difficoltà di identificazione e di datazione dei materiali fayumiti sono ben illustrate. </p> <p>Nel complesso il volume è altamente specialistico e di grande interesse, e offre un importante contributo agli studi sulla regione, che da qualche tempo attira sempre di più l'attenzione degli studiosi.</p> <p></p> <h4>Authors and titles</h4><p></p> <p></p> <i>Préface</i><br> Époque Pharaonique<br> Vincent Rondot, "Un bloc du Labyrinthe d'Amenemhat III à Haouara récemment entré dans les collections françaises : Louvre E 33167"<br> Marco Zecchi, "Theophoric and basilophoric personal names in the Fayum in the Middle and New Kingdom" <br> Époque gréco-romaine<br> Marie-Pierre Chauffray, "Administration du Fayoum au III<sup>e</sup> s. av. J.-C. : l'apport des textes démotiques du Fond Jouguet (Magdôla)" <br> Andrea Jördens, "Soknopaiou Nesos Disneyland?" <br> Cary J. Martin, "Legal and Administrative Texts from Tebtunis in the Carlsberg Collection" <br> Brian Muhs, "Imprisonment, Guarantors, and Release on Bail in the Ptolemaic Fayum" <br> Luigi Prada, "Egyptian Education in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt: A Take from the Fayum-School Textbook and <i>P.Schulübung</i> Revisited" <br> Kim Ryholt, "Demotic papyri from the Franco-Italian Excavations at Tebtunis, 1988-2016" <br> Maren Schentuleit, "Möglichkeiten und Grenzen zweisprachiger Textdokumentation am Beispiel des Titel "Phylenpriesterin" "<br> Benjamin Sippel, "Private Loans and Social Key-Positions: Financial Networks of Egyptian Temple-Officials in Roman Soknopaiou Nesos" <br> Époques byzantine et arabe<br> Tomaz Derda, Joanna Wegner, "Naqlun in the 5th-7th century: papyrological and literary evidence" <br> Esther Garel, "Éditer et rééditer les documents coptes fayoumiques du début de l'époque arabe, progrès et perspectives" <br> Wlodzimierz Godlewski, "The monastic settlement in Naqlun at a time of important political and social transformation in the 7th century" <br> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Quindici sono stati gli interventi al Congresso come attestano i curatori del volume nella prefazione. <br> 2. L'A. include anche utile elenco delle precedenti pubblicazioni dei testi rinvenuti dalla Missione diretta da C. Gallazzi. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-69902828035982133142020-02-10T19:04:00.001-05:002020-02-10T19:04:25.811-05:002020.02.18Susanna Morton Braund, Zara M. Torlone (ed.), <i>Virgil and his Translators. Classical Presences.</i> Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2018. Pp. ix, 520. ISBN 9780198810810. $124.96. <p>Reviewed by Holly Ranger, Institute of Classical Studies (holly.ranger@sas.ac.uk) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-18.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p></p> <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=zTRtDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a><br> [Authors and titles are listed at the end of this review.]<br> <p><i>Virgil and His Translators</i> collects twenty-eight papers from three international workshops and conferences held in Vancouver (2012), Paris (2014), and Cuma (2014), and represents the first major publication from Susanna Braund's long-term research project 'Virgil Translated'. The volume's comparative scope is ambitious and capacious, comprising essays on Virgil in Castilian, Chinese, English, Esperanto, French, German, Homeric Greek, Hiberno-English, Italian, Norwegian, Brazilian Portuguese, Russian, Slovenian, and Turkish, predominantly in verse translations dating from the fourteenth century to the twenty-first—some familiar, but many new to Anglophone scholarship. The focus of the essays falls on Virgil's <i>Aeneid</i>, which receives exclusive treatment in sixteen essays, with <i>Georgics</i> and <i>Eclogues</i> receiving two treatments each; the remaining essays survey translations of two or more of these works. The editors have structured the volume by dividing it into two culturally and theoretically overlapping thematic groups, 'Virgil Translation as Cultural and Ideological Capital', and 'Poets as Translators of Virgil: Cultural Competition, Appropriation, and Identification'. Most of the individual contributions provide in-depth case studies that reveal each translation's deep embeddedness within a particular culture and historical moment. These are framed by complementary bookends: the editors' introduction of the volume's theoretical frameworks (Braund and Torlone), and an afterword by a poet and translator who always writes powerfully on translation as a personal engagement with literature (Balmer).</p> <p>Part 1 (chapters 1-15) examines the role of Virgilian translations in a range of national cultures. While some chapters offer diachronic perspectives on translations of Virgil within one culture (chapter 1 in France, chapters 4 and 5 in England, and chapter 7 in the US), others make cross-cultural connections, discussing the role of vernacular Italian and eighteenth-century Homeric Greek intertexts on Castilian and Russian translations of Virgil (chapters 2 and 10, respectively). The second half of Part 1 expands beyond Europe to consider translations of Virgil in Turkish and Chinese; these essays in particular challenge any disciplinary complacency about translation as a monolithic practice, offering a 'kaleidoscope' of possibilities and focalizing issues central to translation theory: 'claims to authority and legitimacy within and beyond Europe, the process of developing a literary vernacular by means of translations, and the significance of understanding the political, social, and linguistic discourses of the moment' (7). Highlights of Part 1 include Craig Kallendorf's impressive tabulation and discussion of Virgilian translations that predate 1850—from Bengali to Hungarian and Serbian (Chapter 1); Braund's discussion (Chapter 7) of the major popular American verse translations of the <i>Aeneid</i> 'after Vietnam' (Mandelbaum, Fitzgerald, Lombardo, Fagles, Ruden), which pays attention to the ways in which each translation was framed by the translator's relation to classical scholarship and gender in addition to their stance on the war in Vietnam and Virgil's attitude to empire; and Jinyu Liu's discussion of twentieth-century Chinese translations of the <i>Eclogues</i> and <i>Georgics</i>—Liu elucidates both how translators engaged with a text completely foreign to Chinese literary culture 'in all its aspects, from genre and metre to plot and aesthetics' (12), and how these Chinese translations nuance the 'pessimistic' reading of the <i>Aeneid</i>.</p> <p>Part 2 (chapters 16-28) turns from nations to individual poets and translators who have looked to Virgil 'in search of inspiration or legitimization' of their own poetic voice or national literary canons (12). Most of these chapters, arranged chronologically from Du Bellay to Heaney, deal explicitly with translation theory (domestication versus foreignization) and the issues raised by translation as a practice, that is, the challenges encountered by poets in their efforts to 'convey the meaning of the source text to their audiences while retaining the formal features of the Virgilian original' (12). Exemplary here are the provocative chapters by Richard F. Thomas (Chapter 16) and by Ulrich Eigler on Pier Paolo Pasolini (Chapter 26). Thomas discusses notions of equivalence, untranslatability, and domestication using a forensic examination of aesthetic, linguistic, and metre-specific effects, and asks whether it is possible to translate language-specific idioms ('the aesthetic achievement' of Virgil, 256) into a target language without losing the 'poignancy' or 'aesthetic appeal' (244) of the source text. This reviewer felt that the chapter's argument was predicated on the use of Venuti's critique of domestication as a straw man. Thomas notes that '[i]n the case of translation of Roman poetry, [Venuti's] considerations and reservations seem to recede' (245); yet domestication is not simply concerned with the aesthetic relationship between source text and target text, but also (following Deleuze and Guattari) the relationships of power between major and minor languages, and cultural and linguistic hegemony—as revealed in, say, the neocolonial action of a domesticating ('majoritarian') translation of a Farsi text in an English that whitewashes the source text's cultural values. Latin, like ancient Greek, occupies a curious position as the only language in relation to which English may be said to hold the 'minoritarian' position; a careful analysis of these dynamics was missing here. In contrast, Eigler's chapter (his second in the volume) pays close attention to linguistic power dynamics, detailing how the elitism of the Virgilian source text can be reproduced in the target text's choice of Italian dialect. Eigler suggests that Pasolini's idiomatic translation only 'somewhat transformed' (392) the fascistic 'national political desires, and linguistic codes, which materialize in the language and poetry of neoclassicism' (390) and the renewed impulse in the 1920s and 1930s to translate Virgil's national epic. </p> <p>Braund's and Torlone's brief appeal to translation theory in their introduction (4–5) met with a sniffy reception in Stuart Lyons' short review of <i>Virgil and His Translators</i> for <i>Classics for All</i>.<sup>1</sup> While Lyons' scorn is based, in part, on careless googling (he mistakes critical theorist and comparative literature scholar Homi K. Bhaba for nuclear physicist Homi J. Bhaba), his review is symptomatic of the discipline's broader disdain for the insights of the cultural turns of translation studies over the last thirty years. One of the major strengths of Braund's and Torlone's volume is its attentiveness to translation debates beyond big-C classics, within which 'translation' remains heavily policed. Classical scholarship and pedagogy suffer from an obsession with extreme foreignization: one historical trope of the ancient Greek or Latin translator's preface, for example, is the apology for the mutilation in English of the ancient's incomparable ('untranslatable') tongue; and students continue to sit translation examinations which assess their ability to replicate rather than creatively recreate the rhetorical devices and characteristics of the ancient source texts. In contrast, Braund and Torlone are interested in the ways in which literary translation is conceived and discussed and how the process of translation is not hierarchical or reductive, but 'produces hybrids and oscillations between worlds' (5). The volume's sensitivity to issues of translation may stem from the practical experience of Braund herself, a prolific and competent translator of Silver Latin; but the editors' concerns are reflected more broadly throughout the volume, which emphasizes the political reception of Virgil's poetry. <i>Virgil and His Translators</i> occupies a significant space within the burgeoning and long-overdue disciplinary shift away from a belief in objective philology and towards an appreciation both of the critical and creative work of experimental translators, and of the conceptual frameworks within which they operate. This disciplinary shift has been significantly stimulated, since the volume's publication, by the popular success of Emily Wilson's <i>The Odyssey</i>; most recently came the announcement of a new journal for classical literary translation <i>eXchanges</i> which seeks to examine, among other things, the utility of literary translations in teaching and learning.<sup>2</sup> This reviewer hopes that Braund is bolder in her forthcoming monograph and grapples with some of the theoretical issues gestured towards by the edited volume: how the metaphor of domestication/foreignization—applied normally to describe the Englishing of a minoritarian language text—is complicated by this 'Urtext of European colonialism' (5); and how the (ideological) 'cultural capital' (6) of Virgil is defined and constructed, and reinforced as much as it is resisted.</p> <p>This substantial volume will appeal to all Virgilians and reception studies scholars, evidencing as it does the many and varied permutations of three ancient source texts, and setting a new standard for breadth and depth in comparative surveys. The volume is also of use to students or those unfamiliar with any of the many languages treated: all quotations are translated, and a comprehensive bibliography is appended to the essays. <i>Virgil and His Translators</i> has rightly been the recipient of paeans by Lee Fratantuono in the <i>Classical Journal Online</i> and David Hopkins in <i>Translation and Literature</i>, both of whom enumerate in further detail the many achievements of this volume and to which this reviewer directs the interested reader's attention.<sup>3</sup></p> <p></p> <h4>Authors and titles</h4><p></p> <p></p> Introduction. The Translation History of Virgil: The Elevator Version—Susanna Braund and Zara Martirosova Torlone<br> <i>Part 1: Virgil Translation as Cultural and Ideological Capital</i><br> 1: Successes and Failures in Virgilian Translation—Craig Kallendorf<br> 2: Dante's Influence on Virgil: Italian <i>volgarizzamenti</i> and Enrique de Villena's <i>Eneida</i> of 1428—Richard Armstrong<br> 3: Epic and the Lexicon of Violence: Gregorio Hernández de Velasco's Translation of <i>Aeneid</i> 2 and Cervantes's <i>Numancia</i>—Stephen Rupp<br> 4: Love and War: Translations of <i>Aeneid</i> 7 into English (from Caxton until Today)—Alison Keith<br> 5: The Passion of Dido: <i>Aeneid</i> 4 in English Translation to 1700—Gordon Braden<br> 6: An Amazon in the Renaissance: Marie de Gournay's Translation of <i>Aeneid</i> 2—Fiona Cox<br> 7: Virgil after Vietnam—Susanna Braund<br> 8: Translations of Virgil into Esperanto—Geoffrey Greatrex<br> 9: Translations of Virgil into Ancient Greek—Michael Paschalis<br> 10: Sing it Like Homer: Eugenios Voulgaris's Translation of the <i>Aeneid</i>—Sophia Papaioannou<br> 11: Farming for the Few: Jožef Šubic's <i>Georgics</i> and the Early Slovenian Reception of Virgil—Marko Marinčič<br> 12: Reviving Virgil in Turkish—Ekin Öyken and Çiğdem Dürüşken<br> 13: Finding a Pastoral Idiom: Norwegian Translations of Virgil's <i>Eclogues</i> and the Politics of Language—Mathilde Skoie<br> 14: The <i>Aeneid</i> and 'Les Belles Lettres': Virgil's Epic in French between Fiction and Philology, from Veyne back to Perret—Séverine Clément-Tarantino<br> 15: Virgil in Chinese—Jinyu Liu<br> <p></p> <i>Part 2: Poets as Translators of Virgil: Cultural Competition, Appropriation, and Identification</i><br> 16: Domesticating Aesthetic Effects: Virgilian Case Studies—Richard F. Thomas<br> 17: Du Bellay's <i>L'Énéide</i>: Rewriting as Poetic Reinvention? —Hélène Gautier<br> 18: Aesthetic and Political Concerns in Dryden's <i>Æneis</i>—Stephen Scully<br> 19: Translation Theory into Practice: Jacques Delille's <i>Géorgiques de Virgile</i>—Marco Romani Mistretta<br> 20: 'Only a poet can translate true poetry': The Translation of <i>Aeneid</i> 2 by Giacomo Leopardi—Giampiero Scafoglio<br> 21: Wordsworth's Translation of <i>Aeneid</i> 1–3 and the Earlier Tradition of English Translations of Virgil—Philip Hardie<br> 22: Epic Failures: Vasilii Zhukovskii's 'Destruction of Troy' and Russian Translations of the <i>Aeneid</i>—Zara Martirosova Torlone<br> 23: <i>Virgílio Brasileiro</i>: A Brazilian Virgil in the Nineteenth Century—Paulo Sérgio de Vasconcellos<br> 24: Between Voß and Schröder: German Translations of Virgil's <i>Aeneid</i>—Ulrich Eigler<br> 25: Reflections on Two Verse Translations of the <i>Eclogues</i> in the Twentieth Century: Paul Valéry and Marcel Pagnol—Jacqueline Fabre- Serris<br> 26: <i>Come tradurre?</i>: Pier Paolo Pasolini and the Tradition of Italian Translations of Virgil's <i>Aeneid</i>—Ulrich Eigler<br> 27: Irish Versions of Virgil's <i>Eclogues</i> and <i>Georgics</i>—Cillian O'Hogan<br> 28: Limiting our Losses: A Translator's Journey through the <i>Aeneid</i>—Alessandro Fo<br> Afterword: Let Go Fear: Future Virgils—Josephine Balmer<br> <p> </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. <a href="https://classicsforall.org.uk/book-reviews/virgil-and-his-translators/">Classics for All</a> <br> 2. <a href="https://classicalstudies.org/scs-blog/adrienne-kh-rose/blog-can-new-journal-modify-way-we-teach-and-understand-classical">Society for Classical Studies</a> <br> 3. Fratantuono, L. <i>Classical Journal Online</i> 8 September 2019: <a href="https://cj.camws.org/sites/default/files/reviews/2019.09.08%20Fratantuono%20on%20Braund%20and%20Torlone.pdf">CJ-Online 2019.09.08</a>; Hopkins, D. <i>Translation and Literature</i> 28 (2-3) (2019), 330-335: <a href="https://www.euppublishing.com/doi/full/10.3366/tal.2019.0390">Edingburgh University Press Journals</a>. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-62209137642441114602020-02-09T21:50:00.001-05:002020-02-09T21:50:39.951-05:002020.02.17Marie-Laurence Desclos (ed.), <i>La Poésie archaïque comme discours de savoir. Kaïnon - Anthropologie de la pensée ancienne, 12.</i> Paris: Classique Garnier, 2019. Pp. 322. ISBN 9782406073772. €34.00. <p>Reviewed by Sonia Macrì, Università di Enna (sonia.macri@unikore.it) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-17.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p></p> [Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]<br> <p>Il volume curato da Marie-Laurence Desclos, come dodicesimo della collana <i>Kaïnon - Anthropologie de la pensée ancienne</i>, raccoglie i contributi di un convegno internazionale svoltosi all'Università Pierre Mendès-France di Grenoble il 28 e 29 novembre 2014, nell'ambito di un progetto di ricerca intitolato <i>Le problème de la réappropriation par la philosophie des discours de savoir antérieurs</i> (2014-2016) e in continuità con una pregressa silloge dedicata alla circolazione dei saperi nella Grecia dell'età arcaica.<sup>1</sup> Introdotto da un omaggio formulato da Elisabetta Berardi (7-18) alla memoria del grecista Antonio Aloni, scomparso nel 2016, e da un elenco essenziale delle pubblicazioni dello studioso, il volume è inaugurato da un saggio della curatrice (pp. 19-51) teso a tracciare puntualmente le coordinate teoriche e metodologiche entro cui si muovono i saggi della raccolta, a fornire orientamenti bibliografici rispetto agli studi sul tema e, insieme, a esplicitare ulteriori elementi di riflessione. </p> <p>La classificazione che distingue, per l'età preclassica, la poesia epica da quella didascalica e che differenzia il poema esiodeo <i>Opere e giorni</i> o i frammenti dei filosofi cosiddetti "presocratici" dalle epopee omeriche, si rivela, alla prova di un'indagine antropologica, rispondente a categorie moderne e non già applicate dalle culture antiche.<sup>2</sup> Questo assunto, da annoverarsi tra quelli che fanno da presupposto a tutto volume, costituisce il punto di partenza del contributo di Claude Calame (pp. 53-72) che, in questa prospettiva, chiarisce utilmente lo "statuto-autore" dei poeti arcaici tutti suscettibili di essere designati e di autodesignarsi come σοφοί e come depositari di molteplici saperi. L'indagine di Calame verte sulle strategie enunciative rintracciabili nelle diverse forme poetiche e strutturate così da fondare una relazione di carattere pedagogico con un destinatario. L'autorità del locutore/narratore, esplicita Calame, si afferma (in Omero come in Esiodo, in Empedocle e Parmenide come in Teognide e Pindaro) a partire da un atto linguistico, un enunciato performativo espresso al futuro, destinato a fondare una "pragmatica della persuasione". </p> <p>Il contributo di David Bouvier (pp. 73-100) prende avvio anch'esso da una riflessione fondativa dell'intero volume, concernente la necessità di riconsiderare lo statuto della poesia come di un'arte che non si è dispiegata, lungo i cammini dell'oralità, nel segno di un percorso univoco né della continuità. Bouvier si interroga sulle persistenze e sugli scarti segnati, nel contesto della tradizione aedica, dall'<i>Odissea</i> e indaga la relazione che intercorre fra l'aedo della finzione e il compositore del poema, protagonista di una reale ricezione dei canti. Attraverso un'attenta disamina delle fonti, Bouvier evidenzia la presenza di una rottura epistemologica: il narratore principale dell'<i>Odissea</i> problematizza la terza performance attuata da Demodoco e la conseguente reazione di Ulisse (VIII, 487-531), infrangendo la regola che impone di non mettere in discussione un canto che si ritiene ispirato direttamente dalle Muse e additando i limiti che comporta una celebrazione di questo eroe fatta dalla tradizione aedica. </p> <p>Una messa a fuoco del mito di Prometeo, alla luce della posizione che occupa rispetto agli altri episodi della <i>Teogonia</i> esiodea, è fatta nel contributo di Leopoldo Iribarren (pp. 101-121). Il racconto ricorre secondo un ordine invertito, che lo vede dipanarsi dopo la caduta di Crono ma prima della Titanomachia, così da contraddire la cronologia degli eventi ma da ricoprire una posizione centrale nella struttura ad anello del poema. Dopo aver enucleato le diverse posizioni interpretative relative al dislocamento dell'episodio, Iribarren formula l'idea che tale assetto sia determinato da un principio di ordine tematico e funzionale a enfatizzare la presenza congiunta dei motivi della tecnica astuta e della forza, come caratterizzanti la vittoria di Zeus rispettivamente su Urano, Crono, Prometo e sui Titani e Tifeo, secondo quanto enucleato dal testo stesso al v. 496, al quale Iribarren attribuisce, pertanto, un carattere programmatico. </p> <p>Magali Année (123-142), soffermandosi su alcune teorie interpretative più dettagliatamente elaborate in una corposa edizione, di recente pubblicazione, delle elegie di esortazione alla guerra di Tirteo e Callino,<sup>3</sup> mira a mostrare i meccanismi ritmici e fonico-sillabici di cui si sostanziano i frammenti di Tirteo e insieme a evidenziarne la funzione essenzialmente parenetica. La studiosa rileva in questi canti un «sapere sperimentale della lingua» insieme a un altro di carattere «koinogonico», convergenti verso l'azione di modellare gli uomini in funzione dell'appartenenza alla comunità (κοινωνία). </p> <p>Le argomentazioni di Massimiliano Ornaghi (143-173) intendono proporre nuove ipotesi interpretative dell'enigmatico titolo Κολυμβῶσαι, attribuito da due testimoni della tradizione (Tolomeo Chennos e <i>Suda</i>) a un'opera di Alcmane, restituendo altresì un accurato dossier delle molteplici esegesi fin qui condotte. L'accezione letterale del titolo, da riferirsi ad attività femminili dallo statuto polivalente (cultuale, celebrativo, commemorativo) e connesse con il nuotare o con lo sprofondare nella dimensione acquatica, può presentarsi, secondo quanto rimarcato da Ornaghi, come alternativa a un'altra di carattere simbolico e volta a leggere nelle κολυμβῶσαι una metafora delle anime colte nell'atto di separarsi dalla materia, nell'istante della morte o di altra esperienza extracorporea.</p> <p>Le elegie di Solone, precisamente la cosiddetta <i>Eunomia</i> e quella alle Muse (rispettivamente fr. 3 e fr. 1 Gentili-Prato = 4 e 13 West), costituiscono oggetto di disamina del contributo di Mauro Bonazzi (175-186), che verte intorno al concetto di giustizia divina e all'importanza che la sua definizione in Solone riveste nella storia del pensiero politico greco. I discorsi incentrati sui binomi giustizia/ricompensa e ingiustizia/punizione sono suscettibili di essere interpretati come divergenti nelle due elegie. Nel passare in rassegna le diverse tesi proposte dagli studiosi, Bonazzi formula un'avvertita analisi che muove da una prospettiva compatibilista e mira a una lettura unitaria dei due testi.</p> <p>Francesca Dell'Oro (187-199), partendo dalle teorie cognitiviste che attribuiscono una funzione conoscitiva alle metafore, indaga quelle pindariche che afferiscono all'atto del linguaggio, in particolare nei contesti dialogici della quarta <i>Pitica</i>. Questo dominio concettuale, nella poesia greca arcaica, viene ripensato e semplificato in termini concreti attraverso l'immagine dell'elemento fluido che sgorga da un contenitore, di un soffio che fuoriesce dalla bocca o, anche, dello schieramento in file dei soldati. Dell'Oro individua, per alcune di queste immagini, elementi propriamente pindarici e, oltre a ciò, precisa come le metafore logonimiche debbano essere lette nel quadro di una riflessione più ampia, di ordine metalinguistico, che anticipa gli studi più propriamente scientifici su questo ambito dell'esperienza. </p> <p>Al centro dell'indagine condotta da Sofia Ranzato (201-217) sta l'immagine dell'incrocio, emblematica della necessità di operare una scelta fra due diverse forme di comportamento e tradizionalmente impiegata in contesti di natura paideutica (in Omero, Esiodo, Teognide). In Parmenide, essa si presta ad essere interpretata come metafora del momento cruciale dell'isolamento (riconoscibile nel sintagma εἰς ἡσυχίαν, secondo quanto tramandato da Diogene Laerzio) proprio dei riti di passaggio e come determinante per riconoscere la via della verità. La studiosa istituisce un rapporto di corrispondenza tra questa metafora e l'immaginario escatologico cui rinviano le lamine orfiche ritrovate in Magna Grecia, avvalorando l'ipotesi di un influsso esercitato dalla tradizione orale, e dal poema di Parmenide in particolare, sulla composizione delle lamine, anche in ragione dell'individuazione di una forma di «solidarietà linguistica» tra le due testimonianze. </p> <p>Jaume Pòrtulas (219-244) discute della presenza, in Parmenide, di elementi della tradizione poetica che non riguardano esclusivamente il piano formale ma anche il procedere argomentativo. Sulla scorta di alcuni raffronti con Pindaro, Pòrtulas si sofferma sull'invocazione a un'autorità trascendente, che comporta l'assunzione, da parte di Parmenide, del ruolo di messaggero e, insieme, l'impiego di alcuni motivi topici quali quello della persuasione, dell'ignoranza umana e dell'ἕλεγχος. Lo studioso porta, quindi, l'attenzione sul meccanismo della παλινῳδία, ricordandone il significato letterale di «ripresa» di un canto, piuttosto che non di auto-ritrattazione (così è in Platone), e suggerisce di interpretare il rapporto tra le due versioni, cui essa rinvia, non nei termini di una soppressione della «prima», a vantaggio di quella corretta, bensì di una coesistenza di entrambe. Nell'individuare il ricorso da parte di Parmenide a questa strategia poetico-retorica, Pòrtulas la interpreta come funzionale a dare voce a due contrapposte prospettive, una extramondana e un'altra, invece, umana, corrispondenti ai due diversi discorsi della ἀλήθεια e della δόξα.</p> <p>Le riflessioni di Xavier Riu (245-258) vertono sulla nozione di verità nella poesia arcaica e sullo statuto variabile che la contraddistingue, nei contesti di enunciazione in cui ricorre. La disamina investe, primariamente, l'ambito linguistico, con riferimento ai termini ἀλήθεια e ἔτυμον, alla luce della relazione che il concetto di verità intrattiene nella cultura greca arcaica con quello di memoria/oblio e di lode/biasimo, ma anche ai verbi di cui la verità è oggetto nella dizione omerica, quali καταλέγω, ἀγορεύω e μυθέομαι. In seconda istanza, Riu concentra l'attenzione su Parmenide rilevando un tratto ancora diverso della ἀλήθεια, a conferma della presenza di molteplici «tipi di verità».</p> <p>La presenza di molti refusi (ad esempio, a p. 29 si legge "balbuziante" invece di "balbuziente", "alle figura" invece di "alla figura", "attesta" invece di "attestata"; a p. 94 ricorre il riferimento ai versi 418-419 anziché 519-520; a p. 125 si legge "al meno" invece di "almeno", "diffuzione" per "diffusione"; a p. 178 "philoloque" per "philologue"; a p. 208 "Déviance" per "Deviance"; a p. 236 "afermato" per "affermato"; a p. 260 "medieval" per "medievale"; a p. 265 Casio per Cassio; a p. 277 "Homero" per "Omero"; a p. 282 <i>Gli inizi della filosofia greca</i> per <i>Gli inizi della filosofia: in Grecia</i>) non intacca il valore di un volume che raccoglie studi ben documentati, che mai si limitano ad argomentare su dati puramente formali e che, anzi, sono volti a coniugare, in molti casi, il dato più strettamente testuale e filologico con la prospettiva antropologica, attestandosi come contributi utili a riorientare il punto di vista degli specialisti in merito alla trama dei saperi veicolati nei secoli dell'arcaicità greca, soprattutto in virtù dell'attenzione accordata alla dimensione pragmatica. Corredato da un'ampia bibliografia e dagli abstract dei contributi (ma solo in francese), il volume si avvale della presenza di più indici che registrano non soltanto i nomi degli autori antichi e moderni ma anche i passi e le parole greche citate e, insieme, le nozioni più rappresentative indagate nei diversi studi. </p> <p></p> <h4>Table of contents</h4><p></p> <p></p> Elisabetta Berardi, <i>In memoriam</i> Antonio Aloni (1947-2016), 7<br> Marie-Laurence Desclos, Le tissage des savoirs et de la langue dans la poésie archaïque, 19<br> Claude Calame, Poèmes «présocratiques» et formes de poésie didactique, quelle pragmatique?, 53<br> David Bouvier, De Démodocos à «Homère comme poète», réappropriation d'un chant aédique dans une épopée, 73<br> Leopoldo Iribarren, La place du mythe de Prométhée dans la <i>Théogonie</i> d'Hésiode. Composition et connaissance, 101<br> Magali Année, Le savoir koinôgonique des chants d'élégie parénétiques de Tyrtée, 123<br> Massimiliano Ornaghi, Alcman et les Κολυμβῶσαι, un plongeon métaphorique?, 143<br> Mauro Bonazzi, La théodicée de Solon d'Athènes, 175<br> Francesca Dell'Oro, Ἐπέων στίχες. Éléments d'une réflexion métalinguistique dans la <i>Quatrième Pythique</i> de Pindare, 187<br> Sofia Ranzato, Choisir sa propre route chez Parménide, dans la poésie didactique et dans les traditions religieuses à l'époque archaïque, 201<br> Jaume Pòrtulas, Parménide et les traditions de la palinodie poétique, 219<br> Xavier Riu, Vérités et performance publique. Quelques réflexions sur <i>alêtheia</i>, 245<br> Bibliographie, 259<br> Index des passages cités, 287<br> Index des noms – Les Anciens, 297<br> Index des noms – Les Modernes, 301<br> Index des lieux, 307<br> Index des notions, 309<br> Index des mots grecs, 313<br> Résumés, 317<br> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. M.-L. Desclos et F. Fronterotta (éds.), <i>La sagesse présocratique. Communication des savoirs en Grèce archaïque : des lieux et des hommes</i>, Paris: Armand Colin, 2013. <br> 2. Da ultimo il tema è stato indagato da P. Vesperini, "La poésie didactique dans l'Antiquité: une invention des Modernes", <i>Anabases</i>, Vol. 21, 2015, pp. 25-38. <br> 3. M. Année, <i>Tyrtée et Kallinos. La diction des anciens chants parénétiques (édition, traduction et interprétation)</i>, Paris: Classiques Garnier, 2017 (del quale si può leggere la recensione in BMCR <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2019/2019-09-27.html">2019.09.27</a>). </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-88751793190148399512020-02-09T21:37:00.001-05:002020-02-09T21:37:15.383-05:002020.02.16Domingo Placido Suarez, <i>Index thématique de l'esclavage: Antiphon. Institut des sciences et techniques de l'Antiquité (ISTA), 1460.</i> Besançon: Presses Universitaires de Franche-Comté, 2019. Pp. 108. ISBN 9782848676562. €16.00. Contributors: With the collaboration of Claude Brunet, Marguerite Garrido-Hory, Antonio Gonzales. <p>Reviewed by Stefania Giombini, Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona (stefania.giombini@uab.cat) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-16.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><i>L'Index thématique de l'esclavage : Antiphon</i> è un agile libretto di 108 pagine ad opera di Domingo Placido Suarez con la collaborazione di Claude Brunte, Marguerite Garrido-Hory, Antonio Gonzales, pubblicato nel 2019 per le Presses Universitaires de Franche-Comté. Domingo Placido Suarez ha sostituito Pierre Lévêque al GIREA (Groupe International de Recherches sur l'Esclavage dans l'Antiquité) ed è professore emerito alla Università Complutense di Madrid. Il suo curriculum di storico dell'antichità e la sua appartenenza al gruppo dell'Institut des Sciences et Techniques de l'Antiquité di Besançon – Univ. Franche-Comté – (la cui attività di ricerca sul tema della schiavitù è ben nota e si concretizza in un convegno annuale oltre che in numerose pubblicazioni) sono elementi significativi per comprendere questo suo ultimo libro dedicato al lessico e ai temi della schiavitù nell'oratore Antifonte.</p> <p>Il libro di Placido Suarez si compone di una <i>Introduction</i> in cui si affrontano i temi fondamentali relativi al profilo di Antifonte (pp. 11-20); una seconda sezione che racchiude il <i>Corpus</i> dei passi sulla schiavitù nell'opera antifontea (pp. 21-60) a cui seguono un indice tematico (pp. 61-70), un saggio sugli schiavi e i dipendenti nell'Atene classica (pp. 73-104) e una pertinente bibliografia (pp. 105-108).</p> <p>La 'Introduction' prende l'avvio dall'analisi delle fonti utili per affrontare una definizione dell'identità di Antifonte, tema sul quale si dibatte fin dall'antichità, anche a partire dalla distanza ideologica tra le posizioni espresse nell'opera <i>Sulla verità</i> e quelle sottese alla vita politica di Antifonte, promotore del colpo di stato di stampo oligarchico del 411. L'autore fa una rassegna attenta della questione, appoggiandosi alla migliore letteratura critica. Avrei personalmente inserito anche l'interessante contributo alla tesi unitarista di Lévystone,<sup>1</sup> non presente neanche in bibliografia. Secondo Placido Suarez, le fonti non aiutano a chiarire l'identità di Antifonte per cui, a suo avviso, 'il faut […] chercher la solution dans l'analyse historique' (p. 15). L'autore cerca così di stabilire una coerenza interna tra le idee sull'uguaglianza presenti nelle opere di Antifonte e la posizione oligarchica, appoggiandosi sullo studio di Ramirez Vidal<sup>2</sup> oltre che su quello di Canfora,<sup>3</sup> e concludendo che gli oligarchi intendevano ovviamente contrastare il processo di democratizzazione proponendo di mantenere, fra l'altro, l'equiparazione tra schiavi e cittadini poveri e la loro differenza dai cittadini aristocratici. Dal momento che questo punto va a toccare l'argomento cardine dell'intero volume, esso avrebbe potuto essere stato trattato più ampiamente. Ancora più fugace, poi, è la modalità con cui l'autore affronta altri aspetti importanti: il tema della vendetta, l'interesse per la politica manifestato da ciascuno dei due Antifonte (che poi alfine sono considerati uno, in quanto l'autore pare propendere per la tesi unitarista), la secca attribuzione di una retorica 'drammatica' a questo autore ("Sa rhétorique peut être définie comme dramatique", p. 19), come anche l'idea di accreditare Antifonte come colui che ha introdotto la definizione retorica siceliota di Tisia, Corace e Gorgia ad Atene. Su ognuno di questi temi, tutti di grande rilievo, sarebbe stata senza dubbio desiderabile una trattazione più ampia.</p> <p>Il <i>Corpus</i> seleziona i passi sulla schiavitù delle opere <i>Contro la matrigna</i>, le <i>Tetralogie, Per l'uccisione di Erode, Sul coreuta</i>. Per quanto riguarda i singoli passi l'autore ha cura di proporre: il riferimento del passo (la numerazione), il testo greco con le varianti di edizione, la traduzione francese (nell'originale greco e nella traduzione francese vengono sottolineati il termine o i lessemi inerenti alla schiavitù), lo <i>status</i> del soggetto del brano selezionato e i rimandi numerici alla successiva sezione dell'indice tematico, a volte il tutto introdotto da qualche linea esplicativa o da una ipotesi interpretativa. L'indice tematico, chiaro ed esaustivo, è diviso in cinque gruppi: 'Les énoncés'. 'Structures juridiques', 'Économie', 'Domaine politique et social', 'Aspects culturels et religieux'.</p> <p>Al <i>Corpus</i> segue il saggio 'Esclaves et dépendants dans l'Athènes classique' La présence des esclaves dans l'oratoire judicielle' (<i>sic</i>; si legga 'judiciaire') che sembrerebbe avere la funzione di raccordo del materiale presentato nella sezione precedente. In generale il saggio si mostra come un percorso ragionato del contenuto del <i>Corpus</i>. Il saggio è suddiviso in cinque paragrafi: 'Les dénominations et les formes d'expression', 'Les esclaves et le droit', 'L'économie de la dépendance', 'Société et politique', e 'Conclusions'. Nella prima si segnalano, raggruppandole, tutte le espressioni relative alla situazione di schiavitù, da quelle con la radice <i>δουλ-</i> a quelle che contengono margini di ambiguità: la rassegna è funzionale e completa e mette ordine nel variato lessico che si trova in Antifonte. E qui si trova anche il lessico relativo al βάσανος che possiamo prendere come riferimento: l'autore sostiene che il termine servisse come procedura di designazione sottolineando che 'la torture est tellement fréquente qu'elle devient une procédure de désignation des esclaves soumis à celle-là' (p. 75). Nel paragrafo 'Les esclaves et le droit' si cerca di stabilire, a partire dal lessico, i differenti rapporti giuridici che potevano intercorrere tra un padrone e gli schiavi privati. Inoltre, si evidenzia bene il cambio di <i>status</i> dello schiavo quando, utile in un processo, veniva affrancato per rendere la sua testimonianza più credibile (come in II,3,4). E ritornando ancora sul βάσανος si comprende che la tortura appariva come una pratica concreta che poteva anche essere attaccata da parte avversaria come modalità di coercizione in grado di non garantire la veridicità di ciò che veniva testimoniato (p. 79). Il paragrafo si muove in tutti gli ambiti sollecitati dai testi antifontei in analisi ed è utile per la conoscenza dell'ambito giuridico della schiavitù nel suo complesso. Lo stesso si può dire dei due paragrafi che seguono che si prospettano come un percorso ragionato nei temi relativi alla dimensione economica e politica della funzione di schiavitù. Nelle conclusioni, che si dilungano solo per la metà di una pagina, si torna al tema della tortura e si afferma che sebbene la tortura sia presente, soprattutto nei discorsi I e V, il suo utilizzo nelle testimonianze dei processi è però dibattuto. E l'autore lo motiva affermando che in questo momento dello sviluppo del diritto e della retorica greci, la dimostrazione razionale stava prendendo il sopravvento rispetto alla ormai ridotta credibilità del probabile. Placido Suarez sottolinea, poi, che l'interpretazione offerta da Gagarin,<sup>4</sup> ossia quella di ritenere il richiamo alla tortura al fine della testimonianza in un processo come un elemento di 'legal fiction' che non includeva materialmente la tortura, non è rilevante perché ad esserlo è invece il fatto che gli schiavi fossero ritenuti esseri differenti; dunque, in altre parole, ad essere rilevante sarebbe il loro minore statuto ontologico e giuridico. La breve conclusione si chiude sottolineando come il termine βάσανος sia presente anche in Antifonte Sofista (DK87B88). La conclusione risulta per certi versi 'isolata': si concentra sulla discussione del βάσανος che non era apparso come il termine centrale della trattazione (sebbene ricorresse trasversalmente in più parti dell'opera) e richiama alla differenziazione dei due Antifonte: certo la scelta di concentrarsi sulle opere di Antifonte di Ramnunte, e con assoluta ragione, conduceva in questa direzione che non appariva però completamente chiara nell'introduzione.</p> <p>In definitiva, di quest'opera vale la pena sottolineare, per lo meno, un punto di forza e un limite. Il punto di forza è quello di offrirsi come uno strumento di valore nell'analisi lessicale sulla schiavitù in Antifonte: a questa esigenza rispondeva in parte anche l'<i>Index Antiphonteus</i> di Frank Louis Van Cleef del 1895,<sup>5</sup> ma nel lavoro di Placido Suarez il percorso ragionato offre il vantaggio sia di ordinare i termini e le espressioni sia le chiavi interpretative che orientano il lettore e gli offrono spunti di riflessione. Il limite maggiore, invece, consiste nel fatto che gli apparati critici (la <i>Introduction</i> e le <i>Conclusions</i> del saggio che costituisce la seconda parte del volume) si riducono spesso a offrire suggestioni e non si dilungano ad approfondire temi sui quali sicuramente l'Autore avrebbe potuto diffondersi (Placido Suarez ha, infatti, al suo attivo anche una pubblicazione specifica su Antifonte del 1989).<sup>6</sup> Queste incorporazioni ulteriori avrebbero evitato la percezione di una certa ambiguità che a volte resta dopo la lettura delle sezioni maggiormente interpretative del libro.</p> <p>Si segnala, in ultimo, un certo numero di piccoli refusi che avrebbero potuto essere sanati con una ulteriore revisione<sup>7</sup> ma che non inficiano per nulla la comprensione del testo.</p> <p>Il libro di Placido Suarez è, in conclusione, un valido strumento per chi voglia affrontare il tema della schiavitù in Antifonte, soprattutto in virtù del pregevole lavoro di analisi e messa in ordine offerto nella sezione del <i>Corpus</i>. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Lévystone, D. "Antiphon : indifférence de la nature, misère des lois humaines". <i>Phoenix</i> vol 68 (2014) 3–4, pp. 258-290. <br> 2. Ramirez Vidal, G. "El trasfondo político en los discursos de Antifonte". <i>Polis</i> 8 (1996), pp. 233-246. <br> 3. Canfora, L. "Lavoro libero e lavoro servile nell'<i>Athenaion Politeia</i> anonima". <i>Klio</i> 63 (1981), pp. 141-148. <br> 4. Gagarin, M. "The Torture of Slaves in Athenian Law". <i>Classical Philology</i> 85 (1996), pp. 22-32. <br> 5. Van Cleef, F.L. <i>Index Antiphonteus</i>. Cornell University: Boston 1895. <br> 6. Placido Suarez, D. "Antifonte". In: Hidalgo, M.J., <i>La Historia en el contexto de las ciencias humanas y sociales. Homenaje a Marcelo Vigil Pascual</i>, Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca: Salamanca 1989, pp. 29-36. <br> 7. Come, <i>e.g.</i>, nel caso del riferimento bilingue al volume di Canfora in bibliografia e della numerazione al volume di Jebb alla nota 3 a p. 12, dove il riferimento corretto è 17 (non 170). </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-9585333166886678862020-02-09T21:24:00.001-05:002020-02-09T21:24:57.370-05:002020.02.15Silvio Bär, <i>Herakles im griechischen Epos: Studien zur Narrativität und Poetizität eines Helden. Palingenesia, Band 111.</i> Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2018. Pp. 184. ISBN 9783515122061. €44,00. <p>Reviewed by Silvia Cutuli, Università degli Studi di Messina (silviacutuli88@gmail.com) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-15.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="http://www.steiner-verlag.de/uploads/tx_crondavtitel/datei-datei/9783515122061_i.pdf">Inhaltsverzeichnis</a></p> <p>Ogni contributo che realizzi una esposizione chiara e sistematica su alcuni aspetti di una figura mitica così sfaccettata come quella di Eracle risulta senz'altro una risorsa preziosa. L'Autore ha il merito di aver analizzato – sotto il profilo narratologico – l'utilizzo e la funzione metapoetica e intertestuale del personaggio di Eracle all'interno dei principali poemi epici greci. Il concetto postulato da Bär, sul quale si fonda la sua intera analisi, riguarda la 'Widerspruchfähigkeit des Mythos', che investe in maniera esemplare la natura mitica di Eracle e la sua ricorrenza nei testi letterari presi in esame.</p> <p>Il volume consta di tre parti. La prima rappresenta una breve ma utile sezione introduttiva, suddivisa in tre capitoli destinati alla presentazione di Eracle in quanto divinità, uomo ed eroe nazionale; ad una spiegazione del concetto di 'Widerspruchfähigkeit des Mythos'; ad una esposizione del metodo narratologico e degli obiettivi dello studio (pp. 11-29).</p> <p>La seconda parte entra nel vivo dell'argomento: la caratterizzazione di Eracle e la funzione narrativa delle citazioni sull'eroe, elencate puntualmente all'inizio di ogni capitolo dedicato specificatamente ai poemi di Omero (capp. 4-5), di Esiodo e dello Pseudo-Esiodo (cap. 6), di Apollonio Rodio (cap. 7), di Quinto Smirneo (cap. 8) e di Nonno di Panopoli (cap. 9). In tutte queste opere Eracle non ricopre mai alcun ruolo all'interno della diegesi, rivelandosi – salvo alcune eccezioni – sempre estraneo al tempo narrativo. La terza parte ricapitola i risultati della ricerca (cap. 10), con un cenno alla presenza di Eracle in altri generi letterari (cap. 11).</p> <p>Nei poemi omerici i riferimenti a Eracle e alle sue imprese sono presenti nella forma di analessi esterne, inserite sia tramite il narratore primario, sia tramite narratori/personaggi secondari. L'eroe appartiene alla generazione precedente alla spedizione troiana, ma i continui richiami all'interno della narrazione creano una costante tensione tra 'distanza e presenza', tra 'passato mitico e presente narrativo', sul quale l'eroe continua ad esercitare un ruolo decisivo (p. 40). Illuminante a tal proposito è il paragone istituito dallo stesso Achille con Eracle, accomunati dall'ineluttabilità del destino (XVIII 115-119), oltre che dal motivo dell'ira (p. 44). Tale confronto, accanto alla menzione della prima distruzione di Troia ad opera di Eracle (V 640-642), consente di postulare la funzione prefigurativa del nostro eroe in relazione sia alla morte del Pelìde sia alla caduta di Troia. A differenza dell'<i>Iliade</i>, la non appartenenza di Eracle al presente epico, si esplica nell'<i>Odissea</i> sul piano dello spazio: Odisseo da vivo incontra l'εἴδωλον di Eracle nell'Oltretomba (XI 601-627), la cui precedente discesa negli Inferi viene tematizzata (XI 623-627) e, come momento di sofferenza, rappresenta un sostanziale legame tra i due eroi (XI 617-619). Questa nuova 'Translation der Figurenparallelen', dal punto punto di vista poetologico, può essere interpretata come sostituzione dell'<i>epos</i> della guerra a favore dell'<i>epos</i> del ritorno, rimarcato dalla differenza tra l'immagine infelice e sofferente dell'Eracle guerriero esiliato nell'Oltretomba e la figura divina dell'Eracle beato e sposo di Ebe (p. 47). Tale <i>recusatio</i> dell'<i>epos</i> guerriero viene colta dall'Autore anche nell'interruzione della <i>ekphrasis</i> del balteo di Eracle, istoriato con immagini terribili di animali e battaglie (<i>ibid</i>. 610-614).</p> <p>La <i>Teogonia</i> (cap. 6), con il racconto sulle origini del mondo fino al consolidamento del potere di Zeus, realizza un capovolgimento della situazione narrativo-cronologica dell'epica omerica. Pertanto le citazioni sulle imprese eraclee assumono il valore di prolessi esterne rispetto a un futuro prefigurato alla fine dell'opera. Il dialogo intertestuale tra l'Eracle teogonico e l'Eracle omerico trova spunto da vari elementi di natura linguistica e contenutistica. Tra questi l'Autore, per esempio, individua la ripetizione del verso su Ebe nel contesto del matrimonio con Eracle (παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου: <i>Od</i>. XI 604; <i>Th</i>. 952), la cui apoteosi riveste però diversa importanza nella <i>Teogonia</i>: non rappresenta per l'eroe solo una alternativa citata <i>en passant</i> rispetto alla condizione di mortale sofferente nell'Oltretomba, ma il suo unico destino, nonché la ricompensa di una vita di privazioni e fatiche. Il <i>focus</i> delle citazioni si sposta infatti sulla funzione di Eracle quale benefattore e uccisore di mostri terribili, in contrapposizione soprattutto alla caratterizzazione negativa emersa in due luoghi dell'<i>Odissea</i> (VIII 224-225; XXI 24-38). L'impostazione narratologica offre nuove riflessioni su passi di dubbia autenticità sotto il profilo filologico: <i>e.g.</i> <i>Th.</i> 979-983, duplicando il riferimento a Gerione già ricorrente ai vv. 287-294, vengono considerati dall'Autore parte di una <i>Ringkomposition</i>, all'interno della quale le citazioni su Eracle, incentrate sulla sua missione di uccisore di mostri, sono strutturate secondo una precisa coerenza narrativa e un concreto legame con l'intento dell'opera di glorificare il potere di Zeus, padre dell'eroe (pp. 56 n. 10; 60-62). Interessante anche l'interpretazione delle tessere linguistiche del v. 954: μέγα ἔργον viene letto come un neutro collettivo di tutte le imprese compiute dall'eroe (non in stridente contrasto con il plurale στονόεντας ἀέθλους di v. 951), mentre ἐν ἀθανάτοισιν è da intendere quale <i>hysteron proteron</i> dell'immortalità raggiunta al termine delle fatiche (p. 56 n. 9).</p> <p>Mentre l'Eracle della <i>Teogonia</i> è in gran parte non omerico, nel <i>Catalogo delle donne</i> si nota un allineamento all'epica omerica: le imprese del dodecalogo vengono del tutto ignorate a favore di una presentazione dell'eroe nelle vesti di conquistatore e distruttore di città. L'episodio dell'uccisione degli undici fratelli di Nestore (fr. 35 M.-W. = 33 Most) crea, infatti, un chiaro legame intertestuale con l'<i>Iliade</i> (XI 690-693). Ma è ancora una volta la scena dell'ingresso di Eracle nell'Olimpo, con il matrimonio con Ebe e la riconciliazione con Era (frr. 25; 229 M.-W. = 22; 140 Most) a far riflettere l'Autore sia sulla funzione intratestuale dell'eroe, sia sulle possibili relazioni intertestuali (con la nota positiva di segnalare anche i problemi testuali e compositivi di questi passi). Infatti, da una parte, la divina conclusione della carriera di Eracle diviene il modello per tutti gli altri eroi nati dall'unione di una divinità con una donna mortale, finendo per costituire una <i>myse en abyme</i> in seno al progetto generale del <i>Catalogo</i>. Dall'altra parte, la contrapposizione della citazione di Eracle nell'Ade (fr. 25, 24-25 M.-W. = 22, 24-25 Most) e di Eracle nell'Olimpo (vv. 26-33), è paragonabile alla giustapposizione dei due Eracle nella <i>Nekyia</i>; mentre l'apoteosi, menzionata per due volte nell'opera, si ricollega alla fine della <i>Teogonia</i> (vv. 950-955) e mette in connessione le tre opere tramite la ripetizione del già citato verso su Ebe (<i>Od</i>. XI 604; <i>Th</i>. 952), ricorrente anche nel fr. 25, 29 M.-W. (= 22, 29 M.-W.) e integrato nel fr. 229, 9 M.-W. (= 140, 9 Most). Questo sesto capitolo si conclude con una panoramica sull'<i>Aspis</i> e i possibili legami intertestuali con gli altri poemi di età arcaica. </p> <p>Il settimo capitolo, dedicato alle <i>Argonautiche</i> di Apollonio Rodio, contiene le riflessioni più originali sull'interpretazione di Eracle, personaggio che qui – a differenza di quanto avviene nei precedenti poemi – è parte integrante della diegesi (anche se solo all'interno del primo libro): l'eroe partecipa alla spedizione degli Argonauti, dai quali viene però abbandonato mentre si lancia alla disperata ricerca di Ila. Nei libri successivi la presenza di Eracle viene reintegrata solo a livello metadiegetico, ossia tramite il ricordo dei compagni e i riferimenti a lui rivolti da altri personaggi che lo hanno incontrato. L'Autore fa notare come il rapporto tra Eracle e Giasone non possa semplificarsi e ridursi all'antitesi eroe tradizionale <i>vs</i> anti-eroe 'ἀμήχανος', ma debba essere valutato sulla base dell'immagine 'programmaticamente discontinua e contraddittoria' con cui Eracle viene rappresentato da Apollonio. Il poeta lavora in maniera specifica con l'ambivalenza e la pluricaratterizzazione del personaggio (p. 84). </p> <p>Nell'ottavo capitolo l'analisi della figura di Eracle si ricollega al suo ruolo nell'<i>Iliade</i>, di cui i <i>Posthomerica</i> di Quinto rappresentano la diretta continuazione. Anche qui l'eroe, in previsione dell'imminente distruzione di Troia, ricopre una funzione prolettica attraverso due espedienti poetici: il parallelismo iliadico Eracle-Achille (III 770-780), che si sposta in seguito sulla figura di Aiace (V 644-649); e la figura di Filottete, con la descrizione dell'arco, ereditato da Eracle e <i>condicio sine qua non</i> per la distruzione di Troia. L'Autore, sulla scorta di alcune considerazioni di Arnold Bärtschi, <sup>1</sup> sottolinea la coloritura negativa del confronto Aiace-Eracle (tramite il tema della μανία), che viene potenziata dalla similitudine del rogo di Aiace anche con la morte di Encelado (pp. 106-107). Tuttavia, in questo luogo del poema, deputato all'attenzione sul più forte degli eroi greci dopo Achille, sarei propensa a leggere una <i>climax</i> di confronti con Aiace (Tifone: vv. 484-486 – Encelado – Eracle: vv. 641-649), che sottolinei la proverbiale forza e grandezza fisica, senza necessariamente conferirne una connotazione negativa. Significativa è la dimensione poetologica dell'<i>ekphrasis</i> del balteo e della faretra di Filottete (X 178-205), le cui immagini di battaglie sanguinarie, di animali e di agoni mitici, prefigurano la morte di Paride e la caduta di Troia. Il poeta con questa <i>ekphrasis</i> reintroduce, anche a livello metadiegetico, la tematica della guerra, che era stata ricusata nell'<i>Odissea</i>; e colma la lacuna dell'assenza di una lunga <i>ekphrasis</i> nel poema odissiaco tramite la descrizione dello scudo di Achille (V 5-101), instaurando anche un rapporto di continuità con lo scudo di Eracle descritto nell'<i>Aspis</i>. Evidenti sono quindi i dialoghi intertestuali, che vengono rintracciati e approfonditamente discussi dall'Autore. </p> <p>Nel nono capitolo viene indagata la funzione di Eracle nel poema di Nonno, corrispondente al <i>Gegenbild</i> per eccellenza di Dioniso. In questo caso le undici citazioni su Eracle si collocano dopo il viaggio del dio in India, e appartengono quindi al futuro. L'Autore tralascia volutamente altri nove passaggi privi di citazioni nominali su Eracle e ininfluenti ai fini dell'analisi narratologica (p. 119 n. 7). Nei confronti tra le due figure mitiche, in quattro casi Dioniso rappresenta il <i>primun comparandum</i> ed Eracle il <i>secundum comparatum</i>; altre volte, invece, Eracle non è inserito in una similitudine diretta con Dioniso. L'Autore si sofferma a spiegare l'intento del poeta: screditare - secondo il personale punto di vista, ostentatamente di parte - l'eroismo e la grandezza delle imprese di Eracle per dimostrare ed elogiare la superiorità di Dioniso. Questo procedimento svalutativo avviene tramite una spregiudicata ironia, che scivola sovente nel ridicolo. L'ironica <i>recusatio</i> di Eracle, corrisponde, a livello poetologico, alla <i>recusatio</i> di un <i>epos</i> su Eracle e alla giustificazione da parte del poeta della sua scelta tematica, a tal punto da presentare l'eroe anche come suo personale rivale. </p> <p>Il libro, che si conclude con una documentata bibliografia (pp. 149-168) e con utili indici (pp. 169-184), presenta numerosi spunti di discussione in ragione della complessità dei testi analizzati: mi limito soltanto a poche osservazioni nel dettaglio.</p> <p>A p. 13 (cap. 1) come più antica testimonianza della successione completa delle imprese eraclee vengono citate solo le metope del tempio di Zeus Olimpio, ma sarebbe opportuno considerare anche il fr. 169a S.-M. di Pindaro, tradito da <i>P.Oxy.</i> XXVI 2450 (<i>MP</i><sup>3</sup> 1369=<i>LDAB</i> 3705), in cui al v. 43 le tracce del papiro potrebbero integrarsi con il termine δωδέκατος in correlazione alla cattura di Cerbero<sup>2</sup>. A p. 14 (cap. 1), l'Autore cita Hdt. II 45 come fonte del mito di Busiride: in realtà lo storico non fa menzione del re, ma del popolo egiziano che tentò di sacrificare Eracle. A pag. 54 n. 4 (cap. 6), l'Autore, accanto a Esiodo, annovera tra le fonti arcaiche dell'impresa contro Gerione solo Stesicoro e Pisandro di Rodi, ma in realtà l'episodio fu trattato anche da Paniassi (frr. 12-13 West). A pp. 55 n. 7, 57, 61 (cap. 6), l'Autore ritiene che nei vv. 333-335 della <i>Teogonia</i>, contenenti il riferimento alla serpe custode dei pomi aurei, si possa leggere un'allusione all'apoteosi di Eracle. Non concorderei con questa ipotesi: in Esiodo l'animale non viene ancora considerato un avversario/vittima dell'eroe, ed è plausibile che la conquista dei pomi fosse stata elaborata e associata a Eracle solo successivamente, o in un poema perduto di VII o VI sec. a.C. o nel poema di Pisandro.<sup>3</sup> A tal proposito meriterebbe un approfondimento il ruolo di <i>Herakleiai</i> antiche nella formazione del canone.</p> <p>A parte occasionali motivi di dissenso su punti singoli, il volume rappresenta nell'insieme una valida acquisizione per la conoscenza mitico-letteraria di Eracle, ma soprattutto un punto di riferimento per lo studio narratologico di altri testi antichi. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Pubblicate ora in A. Bärtschi, <i>Titanen, Giganten und Riesen Im Antiken Epos: Eine Literaturtheoretische Neuinterpretation</i>, Heidelberg 2019, pp. 333-335. <br> 2. Cf. C. Pavese, <i>The New Heracles Poem of Pindar</i>, HSPh 72 (1968), pp. 47-88. <br> 3. Cf. <i>e.g.</i> J. Pàmias I Massana – A. Zucker, <i>Ératosthène de Cyrène, Catastérismes</i>, Paris 2013, p. 145. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-66362269056935523732020-02-09T21:11:00.000-05:002020-02-09T21:12:01.097-05:002020.02.14André Sauge, <i>L'Odyssée ou Le retour d'Ulysse: un traité d'économie politique.</i> New York: Peter Lang Publishing, 2018. Pp. 412. ISBN 9782807610538. €54,00. <p>Reviewed by Etienne Helmer, Université de Porto Rico (etiennehelmer@hotmail.fr) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-14.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>Dans la continuité de son <i>Iliade, poème athénien de l'époque de Solon</i>,<sup>1</sup> André Sauge propose de l'<i>Odyssée</i> une interprétation neuve. Délaissant le débat avec les homéristes sur les questions poétiques (p. 30) – ce qui ne signifie pas qu'il les ignore – il associe de façon inédite l'anthropologie dumézilienne, la rigueur philologique, et ce principe fondamental selon lequel la littérature est moins un « répertoire de formes » qu'un outil destiné à « nous faire comprendre quelque chose » (p. 60), pour autant qu'on lise le poème homérique en fonction de sa visée et de son destinataire (p. 31-32). La thèse d'ensemble, dont le philosophe Marcel Hénaff souligne les enjeux dans sa préface, est que l'<i>Odyssée</i> est un traité du prince et un traité d'économie politique.</p> <p>L'interprétation de Sauge porte sur un texte constitué des seuls les épisodes relatifs au retour d'Ulysse à Ithaque. Ils forment dans l'<i>Odyssée</i> un ensemble autonome par rapport à la <i>Télémachie</i>. La raison de cette délimitation n'est ni stylistique ni esthétique, elle tient au sens politique opposé de ces deux récits : le <i>Retour</i> serait le récit de la « 'déconstruction' d'un régime politique admettant la légitimité de la monarchie, celui de la <i>Télémachie</i> est une tentative de légitimation d'une royauté héréditaire » (p. 32). Ce partage est cohérent avec l'hypothèse que la version écrite de ce texte ne daterait pas de l'époque archaïque mais du milieu du VI<sup>e</sup> siècle : elle aurait été fixée suite à une commande émanant d'une autorité civique soucieuse de préserver le legs social, économique et politique de Solon, et souhaitant faire comprendre à Pisistrate et à tout prétendant au pouvoir à quelles conditions il pourrait l'exercer légitimement, en renonçant à la tyrannie.</p> <p>Selon Sauge, les aventures d'Ulysse dans le <i>Retour</i> correspondent sur le plan individuel aux transformations que subissent les trois fonctions duméziliennes à Athènes à cette époque, et plus précisément aux déplacements qui affectent la nature de leurs relations. A l'alliance entre fonction guerrière et fonction de parole liée à des secrets magiques et religieux dans l'<i>Iliade</i>, l'<i>Odyssée</i> substitue celle entre fonction de parole liée à l'intelligence, et fonction de fécondité sous la forme des tâches économiques (p. 26).</p> <p>Plus précisément, le récit de ses épreuves par Ulysse à la cour phéacienne remplit une fonction initiatique. Chacune d'elle montre comment il en sort transformé, par l'acquisition progressive de l'intelligence et de la maîtrise de soi, et par le renoncement à la démesure caractéristique de son rôle de guerrier aux aspirations tyranniques dans l'<i>Iliade</i>. Désormais, Ulysse promeut l'alliance entre l'intelligence et l'acquisition des richesses par les activités économiques et leur circulation marchande, plutôt que par les échanges de dons et contre-dons entre puissants, ou par les pillages. La parole sert dorénavant la concertation et la décision collectives, au nom d'une <i>philia</i> horizontale, contre la parole unilatérale de l'aristocratie équestre qui se soustrait à la réciprocité parce qu'elle refuse « de reconnaître l'autre, le membre d'une autre classe que la sienne, en tant qu'<i>alter ego</i>, […] » (p. 143). Le retour d'Ulysse est rendu possible, en somme, par son acceptation de l'ordre humain. Sa conscience de la finitude ne saurait plus justifier les folles ambitions de sa démesure passée : Ulysse sait qu'il doit œuvrer à la collaboration et aux échanges réglés entre membres égaux de la cité, au nom d'une nouvelle norme de justice fondée sur le droit et la reconnaissance de l'altérité sociale et économique. Sur le plan cosmique et religieux, ce déplacement se traduit par le passage d'Ulysse de la sphère de Poséidon, souverain divin de l'aristocratie équestre, à celle de Zeus qui préside au nouveau pacte social. Symboliquement, ce déplacement opère dans le nom d'Ulysse qui, d' « Olutteus » – nom où perce le « loup », le chef de meute brisant ses proies au combat – devient « Odusseus », un porteur de lumière (p. 278).</p> <p>L'introduction intitulée « Mise en œuvre » expose les motivations historiques de la fixation par écrit du récit, ainsi que les enjeux du déplacement des alliances fonctionnelles. Suivent quatorze chapitres.</p> <p>Le premier, « La belle et la bête », (chant 6), analyse le <i>muthos</i> qui se déroule entre Nausicaa et Ulysse, au sens de discours comportant des sous-entendus (p. 67-68) et engageant les ressources de l'intelligence pour séparer l'explicite de l'implicite. Force et pulsion sexuelle sont maîtrisées dans cet échange, et la fonction de fécondité y apparaît à travers la nourriture, le vêtement et la protection dont Nausicaa perçoit le besoin chez Ulysse.</p> <p>Le chapitre 2, « Une promesse royale en forme de lapsus » (chant 7), examine comment Ulysse doit maintenir son identité secrète s'il souhaite obtenir d'Alcinoos, affilié à Poséidon, la promesse d'un navire pour regagner sa terre.</p> <p>Le chapitre 3, « Un roi désespéré de s'amuser » (chant 8), analyse le chant de l'aède Démodocos : par le stratagème du cheval de bois, comparable à un navire transportant des richesses, Ulysse guerrier visait à s'assurer par la violence la maîtrise de la fonction de fécondité. L'épisode serait l'analogue du coup de force par lequel Pisistrate aurait réussi à s'assurer le contrôle de Nisa,<sup>2</sup> grâce à une ruse mobilisant des individus déguisés sur des navires. En s'imaginant pouvoir contrôler les relations commerciales maritimes, Pisistrate aurait cru, à tort, qu'il aurait également la mainmise sur la politique athénienne (p. 123).</p> <p>Au chapitre 4, « La guerre des géants » (chant 9), la rencontre avec le cyclope révèle un Ulysse encore aveuglé par les valeurs de l'aristocratie guerrière : il commet une faute contre la fonction de fécondité en crevant l'œil de Polyphème – le lexique révèle que ce geste est l'analogue d'une « re-conception » du cyclope mal formé par Poséidon – mais aussi contre la fonction de parole en s'arrogeant le droit de se nommer lui-même et de vanter ses exploits.</p> <p>Avec son titre hölderlinien, le chapitre 5, « Là où est le plus grand danger croit la possibilité d'un salut », concerne les épisodes de l'île d'Eole, des Lestrygons et de Circé au chant 10. L'île d'Eole présente un peuple autarcique, comme les Phéaciens et les cyclopes, mais respectant les lois de l'hospitalité. Ulysse s'y conduit en tyranneau subjugué par le pouvoir et la violence (p. 153-160). La scène des Lestrygons est construite comme l'allégorie d'une entrée en initiation, ce que suggère l'analyse convaincante de la topologie et de la sémantique des termes clés du passage. Ulysse rompt là avec la figure de l'animal de guerre qu'il était (p. 161-165). Enfin, Circé est moins une sorcière que la médiation par laquelle Ulysse renaît en recevant d'elle la lumière solaire. Il réapprend à faire passer la solidarité avec ses hommes avant sa propre satisfaction. (p. 172-173).</p> <p>C'est à la <i>Nekuia</i> que sont consacrés les chapitres 6, « Un théâtre d'ombres, un cortège énigmatique », et 7, « Des rois et des guerriers » (chant 11), et plus exactement au discours des âmes, d'abord des héroïnes, puis des protagonistes de l'<i>Iliade</i>, qu'Ulysse rencontre aux Enfers. Les histoires des premières soulignent le déplacement de la souveraineté cosmique de Poséidon vers Zeus. Les récits des seconds montrent la fidélité d'Agamemnon, Achille et Ajax à l'idéologie aristocratique de guerre.</p> <p>Les chapitres 8 et 9 portent sur le chant 12. Le premier, « Catharsis » montre qu'en soumettant Ulysse à l'épreuve du plaisir des récits chantant ses exploits, les Sirènes œuvrent à une forme de catharsis destinée à le purifier de l'aspiration tyrannique. Le second, « L'épreuve du besoin », analyse l'épisode de l'île du soleil, qui coïncide avec le passage définitif d'Ulysse de la sphère de Poséidon à celle de Zeus. La note 7 (p. 243-244) ainsi que la dernière page du chapitre (p. 250) résument la thèse de l'ouvrage.</p> <p>Selon le chapitre 10, « Aux laisses de la mer, le laissez-passer divin » (chant 13), le problème soulevé par Ulysse de retour à Ithaque n'est pas tant celui des moyens et des étapes de sa reconnaissance par les siens que celui de savoir pourquoi ses interlocuteurs résistent à le nommer (p. 252-253). L'enjeu du nom d'Ulysse dépend de son adhésion à un nouveau système de valeurs, dont Athéna, sous les traits d'un berger, veut s'assurer qu'Ulysse l'a bien compris (p. 260). </p> <p>Au chapitre 11, « Du côté de la soue : nourrir des porcs » (chant 14), Sauge propose une analyse peu commune du dialogue entre Eumée et Ulysse en mendiant. Il ne relèverait pas du mensonge mais de l'intelligence du discours : Ulysse veut savoir s'il peut compter sur l'aide du porcher, et Eumée s'il peut faire confiance à l'inconnu qu'il reconnaît dans son voilement même (p. 269-270). Aux interlocuteurs de faire le partage entre « ce qui est devisé et ce qui est visé » (p. 271).</p> <p>Le chapitre 12, « Le secret du nom / Le nom secret » (chant 19), montre que la question est de savoir non pas si Pénélope reconnaît Ulysse dans le mendiant, mais laquelle de ses identités Ulysse veut faire reconnaître (p. 299), ce qui dépend de savoir quel Ulysse Pénélope attend. Elle espère un initié de Zeus qui, en conseiller plutôt qu'en guerrier, doit mettre fin au pillage des serviteurs de Poséidon. A l'objection que le massacre à venir des prétendants contredit le fait qu'Ulysse ne doit pas revenir en guerrier, Sauge répond par une justification historique : Pisistrate a dû livrer une bataille pour rentrer à Athènes (p. 325).</p> <p>Selon le chapitre 13, « De l'arc à l'olivier » (chant 21 : le concours), le concours précédant le massacre a pour but de disqualifier le rite traditionnel d'élection du roi, afin de disqualifier la fonction royale elle-même. Malgré et par le massacre, Ulysse est encore mis à l'épreuve pour résister à la tentation du pouvoir et au vertige de la rivalité. Les deux étapes suivantes de reconnaissance – la cicatrice puis le lit – visent à faire correspondre le nom attendu d'Ulysse en « Odusseus » « conducteur », à l'identité qu'Ulysse est prêt à assumer en s'inscrivant du côté de la fécondité. </p> <p>Enfin le chapitre 14, « L'Ourse ou le loup : meliphage ou anthropophage ? » (Chant 24) porte sur l'épisode de reconnaissance avec Laërte. Le père cherche à savoir si son fils est le même que celui qui est parti, ou s'il est revenu enfin maître de lui-même et capable d'autres fonctions que guerrières – ce qui ne se produit que lorsqu'Ulysse évoque les arbres fruitiers qu'il a jadis reçus de Laërte.</p> <p>L'Epilogue porte sur la composition de l'<i>Odyssée</i> et apporte notamment des précisions sur le passage de l'oral à l'écrit du récit du <i>Retour</i> et son ancrage historique.</p> <p>Outre quelques coquilles typographiques dans la bibliographie (Schubert, Sergent, Suárez de la Torre, p. 410-411 par exemple), et l'absence, dans une partie de la table des matières, du numéro des chants correspondant à certains chapitres, on regrettera surtout que les renvois vers son propre site internet,<sup>3</sup> que Sauge indique parfois en note, ne soient pas valides, parce que la rubrique « Odyssée » semble en avoir disparu (par exemple p. 50 note 5 et p. 228 note 7). Ces remarques n'affectent en rien la puissance interprétative de l'ouvrage. Outre le raffinement et la rigueur de ses analyses de détail, et l'assise historique qu'il donne à son interprétation, Sauge met en perspective un texte fondateur en surmontant les dangers de l'anachronisme. L'intérêt du livre tient aussi à ce qu'il confirme cette idée que l'économie est « omniprésente dans la poésie grecque archaïque et classique »,<sup>4</sup> et laisse ainsi penser que l'<i>Odyssée</i> a sans doute nourri le <i>logos oikonomikos</i> né vers la fin du V<sup>e</sup> siècle. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Peter Lang, Berne, 2000. <br> 2. Nom antérieur de Mégare. <br> 3. <a href="http://www.histor.ch">Histor.ch</a>. <br> 4. J. Zurbach, « Hésiode oriental ou le discours sur l'économie avant le <i>logos oikonomikos</i> », dans K. Konuk (éd.), <i>Stephanéphoros. De l'économie antique à l'Asie mineure</i>. Hommages à Raymond Descat. Bordeaux, Ausonius, p. 179. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-70352481644535362512020-02-07T14:19:00.001-05:002020-02-07T14:19:53.489-05:002020.02.13Ulrike Steinert (ed.), <i>Assyrian and Babylonian Scholarly Text Catalogues: Medicine, Magic and Divination. Die babylonisch- assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen, Band 9.</i> Berlin; Boston: De Gruyter, 2018. Pp. 384. ISBN 9781501513633. $183.99. <p>Reviewed by Elyze Zomer, Philipps-Universität Marburg (elyze.zomer@staff.uni-marburg.de) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-13.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://www.degruyter.com/view/product/477148">Publisher's Preview</a></p> <p>The present volume is the result of the collaborative and individual efforts of the BabMed Project in Berlin.<sup>1</sup> It comprises two parts: the first "Studies on Mesopotamian Text Catalogues" (pp. 8–200) contains seven contributions (discussed below) providing a valuable analysis of Mesopotamian text catalogues and tablet inventories of first millennium BCE focusing on medicine (<i>asūtu</i>), exorcism (<i>āšipūtu</i>), and divination; whereas the second "Text Sources" (pp. 203–333) presents critical philological editions of three distinctive corresponding text catalogues being the so-called Assur Medical Catalogue (AMC), the Exorcist's Manual, and the joint catalogue of the diagnostic and physiognomic omen series <i>Sakikkû</i>and <i>Alamdimmû</i>.</p> <p>The AMC in particular forms the backbone of this study, presented here for the very first time in a complete edition.<sup>2</sup> It is an ancient catalogue from the 8<sup>th</sup> or 7<sup>th</sup> century BCE containing incipits of various medical treatises and as such, it forms a key witness to the serialization of medical texts from first millennium BCE Assyria. The AMC is important for our general understanding of the history of medicine, since it lists medical treatises several centuries before the so-called Hippocratic Corpus.</p> <p>The contribution by Strahil V. Panayotov, "Notes on the Assur Medical Catalogue with Comparison to the Nineveh Medical Encyclopedia" (pp. 89-120), is here of particular interest. Panayotov analyses the structure of the first part of the AMC and compares its incipit and tablet sequence with the serialized and standardized therapeutic treatises known from Nineveh, the Nineveh Medical Compendium.<sup>3</sup> As demonstrated by Panayotov, the material from Nineveh exhibits close parallels with the AMC, but with deviations. Even more interesting is the fact that medical texts other than the AMC from first millennium BCE Assur display little overlap with the AMC and the Nineveh Medical Compendium, which implies that these texts in turn must belong to a different medical compendium. This could be explained if the first part of the AMC and the Nineveh Medical Compendium originated from an older independent tradition from Babylonia.</p> <p>As for the Nineveh Medical Compendium, Panayotov reaches the conclusion that it seems to have consisted of 12 treatises, each denoting a specific part of the body, comprising a total of 50 tablets. These numbers are certainly not coincidental. Panayotov explains these numbers from a Mesopotamian numerological perspective. The number 12 is thought to symbolize the 12 months. The same idea is expressed, he states, in the Late Babylonian tablet BM 56605, where body parts are linked to the 12 zodiac signs. Note, however, that the body parts in the Babylonian tradition differ greatly from the order in the Nineveh Medical Compendium, but, as Panayotov argues correctly, the principle of organization is strikingly similar. The number 50 is to be linked to the healing/exorcizing god Marduk, similar to the 40 tablets of the Diagnostic Handbook representing the god Ea. The total of 12×50=600 is a logical number in the Mesopotamian sexagesimal numeral system and may represent the totality of the Mesopotamian pantheon.</p> <p>Ulrike Steinert, "Catalogues, Texts and Specialists" (pp. 158-200), complements Panayotov's discussion. She presents a survey of different types of Mesopotamian text catalogues, comparing the AMC with the Exorcist's Manual, and the catalogue of <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i>. She investigates the three catalogues according to their ideal categories of series and corpus catalogue, and she concludes that the hybrid use of genres between the AMC and the Exorcist Manual is to be explained from the cross-disciplinary character of the <i>asûtu</i> and <i>āšipūtu</i>.</p> <p>J. Cale Johnson "Towards a New Perspective on Babylonian Medicine" (pp. 55-88) approaches the discussion from the opposite direction. He investigates the disciplinary distinctions between the <i>asûtu</i> and <i>āšipūtu</i> by focusing on the specific area of gastrointestinal diseases. Johnson revisits here partly the ongoing debate of exorcizing vs. medical incantations. In his view, the etiologies within spells belonging to the <i>āšipūtu</i> rely exclusively on demonic agents, whereas the etiologies within spells belonging to the <i>asûtu</i> are "secular" and describe (metaphorically in this specific case) the processes related to the gastrointestinal tract. He continues by taking a closer look at the so-called Marduk-Ea formulations and argues that such formulations found in spells belonging to the <i>asûtu</i> are in fact parodies of their exorcist counterparts. It is true that in these formulations the exorcist deity is omitted or supplanted by a traditional healing deity, such as Gula or Damu,<sup>4</sup> but the humorous and ridiculing undertone as suggested by Johnson is purely speculative at best. The image of both professions presumably rivalling and mocking each other in incantations for the amusement of the non-professional public appears to be counterproductive for the poor patient in question.<sup>5</sup> </p> <p>Returning to the matter of a possible "etiological secularism" in <i>asûtu</i> spells, Johnson turns to medical treatises such as those listed in the AMC and Nineveh Medical Compendium, where he tries to explain conflicting designations, such as "Hand of a ghost", and conjures up a "continuum of allegoresis", surmising that such diagnostic labels are reinterpreted in <i>asûtu</i> texts becoming specific technical labels losing their metaphysical meaning.</p> <p>Another view regarding the corpora of the <i>asûtu</i> and <i>āšipūtu</i> is presented by Markham J. Geller in "A Babylonian Hippocrates" (pp. 42-54). By dividing the Mesopotamian "healing arts" into three distinctive literary genres labelled "medicine", "magic" and "diagnosis", he investigates the possibility as to whether the AMC may be another editorial work by the scholar Esagil-kīn-apli, who is known to be the editor of the Exorcist's Manual and the catalogue of <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i>. The apparent omission of Esagil-kīn-apli in the Catalogue of Texts and Authors in attributing the entire authorship of <i>Sakikkû</i>, <i>Alamdimmû</i> and <i>āšipūtu</i> to the god Ea is innovatively explained by Geller as a possible cryptic orthography, where Ea becomes a nickname or rather pseudonym for Esagil-kīn-apli.</p> <p>Geller examines the particular vocabulary used by Esagil-kīn-apli to denote his editorial work, "weaving" (SUR.GIBIL) and compares it with the Akkadian equivalent <i>zarû</i>, which is attested only twice in colophons from Nineveh. He convincingly argues that both manuscripts (Hunger 1968: 99 = BAK No. 321 = Uruanna; SAA 3, 2: rev. 24. = Hymn to Marduk) can be attributed to the scholar respectively. Noteworthy is that the latter manuscript uses the term <i>sadīru</i>, which also occurs in the catalogue of <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i> by Esagil-kīn-apli. Geller establishes the following neologisms used in the technical vocabulary by the Babylonian scholar, <i>zarâ ṣabātu</i> "to (formally) establish an edition", <i>iḫzu</i> "recension", <i>kânu</i> "to establish (a recension)", <i>riksu</i> "corpus".</p> <p>Finally, important observations are made by Geller regarding the format of the AMC and the other two catalogues. All three catalogues are single-column tablets, whereas AMC and the catalogue of <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i> are portrait-oriented. The Exorcist's Manual is landscape-oriented, corresponding well with the proposed dichotomy between Late Babylonian medical and magical manuscripts. Furthermore, all three catalogues are divided into two main sections indicating a division of different sources for both sections. Although not explicitly stated in the AMC, its format, the use of the typical idiom <i>zarâ ṣabātu</i>, and, if correct, the hidden reference in the Catalogue of Texts and Authors, support Geller's case for the possibility that the AMC can in fact be attributed to the person of Esagil-kīn-apli.</p> <p>Another contribution in this volume is "On Three Tablet Inventories" by Irving L. Finkel (pp 25-41), which presents editions of two previously unedited Middle Babylonian inventories containing incipits of various genres, i.e., omens (astrological, terrestrial, physiognomic, extispicy), medicine, lexical lists, and Sumerian literary texts with no particular order according to genre, and one tablet from Seleucid Uruk (TCL 6, 12), where a list of incipits is found as a separate section after an astrological text with illustrations. "The Catalogues of Enūma Anu Enlil" by Francesca Rochberg (pp. 121-136) is concerned, as its name implies, with the astrological omen series EAE. An edition and discussion of two catalogues containing incipit lists of EAE are offered. One catalogue comes from 7<sup>th</sup> century BCE Assur and the other from 3<sup>rd</sup> century Babylonian Uruk, displaying a great variety of differences between them, which in turn are discussed and lead to a new concept of canon in Mesopotamian scholarly corpora. "Esagil-kīn-apli's Catalogue of Sakikkû and Alamdimmû" by Eric Schmidtchen (pp. 137-157) presents evidence that the <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i> catalogue by Esagil-kīn-apli displays an earlier stage of the series <i>Sakikkû</i> and <i>Alamdimmû</i>.</p> <p>In conclusion, this volume is "from head to toe" a must for all scholars with an interest in ancient Mesopotamian medicine, canonicity, and authorship. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Other results such as a vast collection of transliterations of medical texts can be found here <a href="https://www.geschkult.fu-berlin.de/e/babmed/">BabMed - Babylonische Medizin</a>. <br> 2. Specific sections of the AMC have been published and discussed by a variety of scholars. A detailed overview can be found in Panayotov's contribution is this volume (pp. 92f.). <br> 3. Although explicitly stated in the Introduction (p. 15) by the editor, the use of both Nineveh Medical Encyclopedia and Nineveh Medical Compendium for the same manuscript in this volume may lead to confusion for the reader and could have been easily avoided by consistent editing. <br> 4. In addition to the rare example presented by the author (= BAM 574: ii 52-56 + BAM 577: 6'-10'), note the dialogue in the incantation ÉN ur-saĝ <sup>d</sup>asal-lú-ḫi igi-bé ḫé-pà saĝ-ḫul-ḫa-za ḫé-pà which addresses the demon saĝ-ḫul-ḫa-za (= <i>mukīl rēš lemutti</i>) and is found in therapeutic passages concerned with headaches, see E. Zomer, 'The Physician is the Judge!'— A Remarkable Divine Dialogue in the Incantation: ÉN ur-saĝ <sup>d</sup>asal-lú-ḫi igi-bé ḫé-pà saĝ-ḫul-ḫa-za ḫé-pà, <i>Le Journal des Médecines Cunéiformes</i> 31 (2018), 38-42. <br> 5. Note that the other example mentioned here in note 4 explicitly states "My Son, don't impose yourself upon him! You will not (even) look at the patient. The physician is the judge! You will not decide this case!" which actually suggests the opposite of Johnson's idea. A healing god instructing an exorcizing god to stay clear of the patient burdened with a severe headache leaving the healing in this case clearly to the field of the <i>asûtu</i>, implies cooperation rather than mockery. It is easy to imagine that someone with a migraine is better off in the hands of a physician than having an exorcist shouting incantations at him. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-48116539026929610662020-02-07T13:54:00.001-05:002020-02-07T13:54:44.411-05:002020.02.12David Pritchard, <i>Athenian Democracy at War.</i> Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2019. Pp. xxiv, 287. ISBN 9781108422918. $105.00. <p>Reviewed by Matthew A. Sears, University of New Brunswick (matthew.sears@unb.ca) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-12.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=0K0iuQEACAAJ">Preview</a></p> <p>The similarity of this book's title to W. K. Pritchett's five-volume <i>The Greek State at War</i> (Berkeley, 1974-1991) might be a coincidence, but it is telling nonetheless. Where Pritchett used five volumes to publish his considered views on a host of loosely related topics pertaining to ancient Greek warfare, Pritchard—who for the last two decades has established himself as perhaps the foremost expert on Classical Athenian warfare—in a single volume, has presented a selection of his findings on democratic Athens at war. Like Pritchett's work, rather than advancing any particular thesis, Pritchard's book will prove most useful as a resource for those interested in various topics about Athens and war.</p> <p>The book begins with a Foreword by Kurt A. Raaflaub, arguing that the main contribution of this volume is its synthesis of a great body of research in order to reveal the practical underpinnings of the broad military changes that took place under the Athenian democracy. After a short Preface, the body of the book consists of eight chapters, varying widely in length from eleven pages to eighty-one.</p> <p>Chapter 1, "Athenian Democracy at War," provides an overview of the book's topics while presenting Pritchard's principal original arguments. Central to Pritchard's program is the claim that democracy—contrary, perhaps, to modern expectations—can be extremely bellicose. Classical Athens, which spent far more of its public funds on war than on any other activity, was certainly warlike, and even the supposedly chastened democracy of the fourth century, deprived of much of its population and imperial revenue, initiated wars more often than in the past. Pritchard argues, therefore, that democracy and war are linked, which should prove an important insight for modern political scientists trying to make sense of the war-making of nascent democracies such as those emerging from the "Arab Spring." In addition to arguing that a military revolution accompanied the democratic and cultural revolutions of late-Archaic/early-Classical Athens, Pritchard tries to put to rest the idea that the Solonian property classes had any bearing on military recruitment, doing so by covering what he labels the four branches of the Athenian military: hoplites, cavalry, archers, and sailors.</p> <p>Chapter 2, "The Armed Forces," is by far the longest chapter, covering in turn the hoplites, cavalry, archers, and sailors of Athens, going over in detail how these forces were assembled, organized, and funded by the democracy. Aside from the archers, who Pritchard argues were still held in disdain by most Athenians, the democracy found a way to share the formerly aristocratic virtue of courage (<i>aretē</i>) among most citizens in the polis, even including rowers in the fleet. This chapter is a fairly comprehensive account of the military forces of the Athenian democracy, and will likely be the most useful section of the book as a scholarly resource. </p> <p>The remainder of the book is a series of shorter chapters on particular topics related to the Athenian democracy and war. Chapter 3, "Naval Matters in Old Comedy," makes the case that Athenian sailors were esteemed as much as Athenian hoplites and horsemen. <sup>1</sup> Pritchard touches on a variety of literature, but focuses on the extant comedies of Aristophanes. Chapter 4, "Costing Festivals and Wars," demonstrates that, despite comments from ancient authors such as Plutarch, and the scholarly consensus stemming from the 19<sup>th</sup> century work of Böckh, the Athenians spent far more on wars than on anything else, including their lavish festivals. Since the Athenians discussed and voted regularly on matters pertaining to public finance, the massive outlays of cash on military ventures shows that the Athenian <i>dēmos</i> considered war to be the top public priority. Chapters 5 and 6, respectively "The Cost of the Peloponnesian War" and "Public Finance and War in Ancient Greece," continue the discussion of public finance to provide estimates for how much the Peloponnesian War cost the Athenians, and the way that public finance played a larger and larger role throughout Greece as the Classical period progressed. Pritchard argues that in the Archaic period war was essentially a private activity, whereas the more public warfare of the fifth century required states to adopt new financial measures to pay for war. </p> <p>The final two chapters focus on the relationship between warfare and athletics. Chapter 7, "Sport and War," argues that the Athenian <i>dēmos</i> continued to support elite athletes because of the close affinities between warfare and sport. Even lower-class Athenians who, say, rowed in the fleet, could compare the <i>ponoi</i> and <i>kindunoi</i> they undertook on behalf of the state to those athletes endured, also for the benefit of the state. This chapter contains what I find to be the most interesting and original argument in the book, that satyric drama reinforced the connection between sport and war by placing satyrs in both athletic and military situations. Hilarity ensues when satyrs, who characteristically lack <i>aretē</i>, find themselves in situations requiring the utmost <i>aretē</i>, situations in which Athenian citizens, either as elite athletes or common soldiers, would regularly experience. Chapter 8, "War and Panhellenic Sporting Victory," claims that Panhellenic athletic victories brought glory to states just as victories in war did, a point that is reinforced by the presence at Panhellenic sanctuaries of so many military victory monuments. </p> <p>This is a strange and sometimes frustrating book. As the above synopsis should make clear, the book is not structured around any thesis or theme, but rather contains a collection of studies more or less related to how the Athenians organized themselves for war. In his Preface, Pritchard admits that half of the book represents revisions of previously published material, which is fine as far as it goes. The current volume, however, contains so much repetition, sometimes with entire sentences and paragraphs repeated nearly verbatim, that this reviewer wishes the book had undergone more extensive editing in order to render it a coherent monograph. Rather than tying the book and its many topics together in a neat conclusion, for example, the text simply breaks off at the end of the final chapter on Panhellenic victories. I do wish to reiterate, though, that there is a lot of informative and detailed work here that will advance many scholarly discussions.</p> <p>As for the arguments themselves, I do not have space here to engage with more than a few. Since the present volume represents a collation of Pritchard's scholarship undertaken over two decades and published in several monographs, edited volumes, and major articles, Pritchard here necessarily treats many topics only in brief. But some topics require much fuller discussion. The first chapter, for instance, covers the Athenian democratic and cultural revolutions very superficially, glossing over a great many contested issues relating to what counts as a democracy, and when Athens could be considered fully democratic. In the next chapter, Pritchard argues for his focus on Athens' "Imperial Age" between 481-386, even though Athenian democracy began decades earlier and lasted at least another fifty years—and many scholars now consider Hellenistic democracy more truly democratic than once thought. Similarly, the book offers hardly any comment on how, if at all, certain military measures were unique to democracy, let alone how Athenian democratic practices differed from the many other democracies in the Classical Greek world. Even Pritchard's categories of "democratic," "cultural," and "military" can be problematic, since the Classical Athenians did not necessarily separate activities into such neatly delineated spheres. The horsemen of Athens paraded in the Panathenaic procession, as famously depicted on the Parthenon frieze, which surely could be considered both a military and cultural activity, and so could the money spent on it. </p> <p>While Pritchard builds on the work of others to reaffirm that Athenian sailors were not nearly as marginalized as once thought, he continues the standard line that archers were disdained for cowardice. Some Athenians chose to be archers anyway, Pritchard argues, because the pay was good and more regular than in other branches of the military. I think the stigma against archers is overstated. Why else would Herodotus, who certainly leaves out important activities of light-armed troops like the slaves at the Battle of Marathon (see Paus. 1.32.3), praise the decisive role of the Athenian archer corps at Plataea (Hdt. 9.21-23)? And why would the training for ephebes in the late fourth century, the initiation right for full membership in the community as citizen-soldiers, include training with ranged weapons such as arrows and javelins ([Arist.] <i>Ath. Pol.</i> 42)? Also, since one of Pritchard's main points is that democratic Athens spread the aristocratic virtue <i>aretē</i> generously among the branches of the military, thereby democratizing the virtue, he might have discussed the connection between the cavalry and anti-democratic factions, most notoriously demonstrated in the cavalry's support for the Thirty Tyrants in 404-403. Not for nothing is the cavalryman Dexileos' funerary monument uniquely inscribed with both his death date and birth date in order to prove that he was too young to have fought against the democracy—even as he strikes an arguably antidemocratic pose on his horse.<sup>2</sup></p> <p>I found the final two chapters on sport particularly perplexing. Pritchard covers this topic much more extensively in his 2012 monograph, <i>Sport, Democracy and War in Classical Athens</i> (Cambridge), but in the present volume he does little to demonstrate exactly what new ideas he offers. Anyone familiar with the funeral games of Patroclus in <i>Iliad</i> 23 could tell you that sport and war are inextricably linked, and Pritchard does not explain how the Athenian appreciation for athletics and its elite athletes differs from other Greek states, including distinctly undemocratic ones like Sparta. Scholars such as Bruno Currie (in, for example, <i>Pindar and the Cult of Heroes</i> [Oxford, 2005]) have already amply shown how Panhellenic victories by elite individuals could redound to the glory of an entire polis. The building form of the treasury, found in abundance at Panhellenic sites such as Delphi and Olympia, is a famous physical representation of the relationship between a state and the Panhellenic triumphs of its citizens. Perhaps the seeming paradox of the <i>dēmos</i>' appreciation for elite athletes does require explanation. Then again, as one of my college professors remarked, every society, even the most democratic one, is fascinated by celebrities.</p> <p>I greatly admire and have benefitted from Pritchard's scholarly program, and he is an essential author for those working on Athens and war in any respect. The volume here under review contains many up-to-date references and facts about a great many topics pertaining to Classical Athens at war. The long second chapter, on the various armed forces, is especially rich in information and links to further scholarly work. But, for those who want to delve into the intricacies of how one of the world's first democracies thought about and waged war, Pritchard's considerable number of earlier publications would be a better bet. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Building for the most part on C. Jacob Butera's 2010 Duke University doctoral dissertation, <i>"The Land of the Fine Triremes:" Naval Identity and Polis Imaginary in 5th Century Athens</i>. <br> 2. For which see, among others, J. Ober, <i>Athenian Legacies: Essays in the Politics of Going on Together</i> (Princeton, 2005) 237-247. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-5459435918325173902020-02-07T11:53:00.001-05:002020-02-07T11:53:45.158-05:002020.02.11Nathaniel B. Jones, <i>Painting, Ethics, and Aesthetics in Rome. Greek culture in the Roman world.</i> Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2019. Pp. xviii, 291. ISBN 9781108420129. $105.00. <p>Reviewed by Nikolaus Dietrich, Heidelberg University (nikolaus.dietrich@zaw.uni-heidelberg.de) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-11.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=5OaADwAAQBAJ">Preview</a></p> <p>The book under review provides a multifaceted study of an aesthetic phenomenon most characteristic of Roman wall-painting: the importance given to framing in general, and to painted picture frames specifically. By adding (painted) frames to depictions that may be found at different central or marginal positions of a painted wall, such images—mythological subjects, landscapes, 'still-lives'—are presented as "paintings of paintings", as Nathaniel Jones puts it. This basic observation constitutes the starting point for an exploration of several overarching phenomena in Roman wall-painting.</p> <p>A concise introduction ("The Painting of Painting in Ancient Rome': 1–8) provides a general outline of the book's central issues. The first chapter ('Winckelmann and the Cultural Dynamics of Painting': 9–46) takes a historiographic perspective, focusing on the very beginning of art-historical engagement with the paintings from the Vesuvian area: Winckelmann's account of these freshly unearthed examples within his <i>History of the Art of Antiquity</i>. More specifically, Jones discusses a set of four paintings from the <i>palaestra</i> of Herculaneum seen and described by Winckelmann. These paintings seem to have been excised from a wall and were waiting to be re-inserted into a new painted wall in 79. Functioning as would-be independent panels, they not only serve Winckelmann's agenda of singling out (Greek) high art within (Roman) decorative wall. They also hold a key position in Jones' general argument. First, they strongly support the idea that – conceptually speaking – the framed picture panels of Roman wall-painting constitute "mobile objects" on "immobile walls". Indeed, these excised sections of plastered and painted surfaces provide concrete reality to the (painted) fiction of movable panel paintings, and thereby prompt us to take this fiction seriously. As a second important point, these fictive Roman panels play with the idea of coming from somewhere else: they could mimic Greek panel paintings exposed in Roman domestic context. The dialectics of mobile objects on immobile walls and of Greek art in a Roman context set the interpretational frame for this book.</p> <p>The second chapter ('Disrupting the Frame': 47–92) situates the book within the larger context of Derrida's critique of the Kantian distinction of framed and (parergonal) frame, thereby linking it up with recent scholarly engagement with the frame.<sup>1</sup> Jones then looks for precedents to the painting of paintings in Roman murals, which may be traced back to the later second style but which became a widespread phenomenon only in the third and (above all) fourth style. Not surprisingly, earlier Greek and Roman imagery provides very many examples of images (e.g. vase-paintings, reliefs, coins) themselves comprising the depiction of images (e.g. statues, reliefs, busts, etc.). Indeed, elements of metapictoriality are not necessarily a late development in a visual culture becoming growingly self-reflexive in Hellenistic and Imperial Age; pictures of pictures are frequent throughout Archaic and Classical art. Jones then investigates the range of possibilities for the Greek term <i>pinax</i>. Temple inventories from Hellenistic Delos draw a much more varied picture than the few preserved wooden examples of <i>pinakes</i> from Egypt. The author stresses that these inventories—while generally very succinct in their descriptions of the depictions—are surprisingly attentive to forms of material support and framing. In line with the general assumption that the painted panels on Roman walls mimic specifically Greek painted panels, Jones tries to identify shapes and frames found in Roman wall-painting with categories of <i>pinakes</i> mentioned in the Delian lists. However, such matches hardly reach an undisputable level of certainty and therefore cannot provide any hard external proof of the assumption on the 'Greekness' of the Roman fictive panel.</p> <p>The third chapter ('The Ethics and Politics of Art': 93–136) takes up the possible relations with the political history of Late Republican and Early Imperial Rome, one of the central issues in Roman wall-painting-scholarship of recent decades. Jones attempts to adopt a balanced view between the political and the more aesthetic readings of Roman wall-painting that is gaining more support among a new generation of scholars. However, he cannot conceal his skepticism vis-à-vis the general assumption that political ideology directly affected the decoration of the private sphere.<sup>2</sup> For Jones, it is not any possible connection of Roman murals to political history that would make them political, but rather their connection to the ethics of the Roman elite and whether Greek art in Rome was of public benefit or represented private moral corruption. A survey of positions in Latin literature makes clear that, broadly speaking, Greek art on public display is seen as beneficial, whereas private ownership of these same precious things is seen as morally problematic. Jones suggests that by displaying painted instead of real Greek panels in one's house, one would avoid the moral corruption brought about and signaled by Greek luxury goods such as panel paintings, while at the same time reaping the benefits of highly esteemed Greek art. This reading takes for granted that the fictive panels painted on Roman walls are indeed essentially 'Greek', which does not fully convince the reviewer. The author's exploration of the politics of Roman wall-painting, mainly in the way it negotiates the 'Greek' and the 'Roman', follows a line of argumentation already tried by Michael Squire concerning the Augustus of Prima Porta.<sup>3</sup> Especially because his muscle cuirass would have both shown and concealed the nude body, Squire takes this nudity as something essentially 'Greek' and potentially problematic in a Roman context.</p> <p>Chapter four ('Transparent and Opaque: Medium and Materiality on the Roman Wall': 137–178) takes up the interplay in Roman wall painting between breaching the wall and denying its materiality (e.g., by illusionistic perspectival vistas), and reaffirming its closed surface (i.e., by large monochrome expanses). Fictive panels of Roman wall-painting take an interesting position within this interplay: they serve both ends by presenting at once an illusionistic picture (as if a view through the transparent wall) <i>and</i> the illusion of a material object (a framed panel hanging on the wall). Jones comments on varied aspects of Roman wall-painting, such as the uses of perspectival renderings, the importance of theatrical effects, or more specific topics such as mirroring (within the paintings and between the painted wall and its beholder). Within this very rich chapter, Jones' comments on the use of white (especially on the walls' upper zones) stand out. He convincingly explains that white signals the material wall, appearing amidst the painted illusions and thereby exhibiting the duplicity of the "decorated wall".</p> <p>The final chapter ('Paradigms, Ensembles, and Anachronisms': 179–229) deals explicitly with some difficult questions. How should we imagine concretely the relation between the fictive panels in Roman wall-painting and their supposed Greek models? How do the single painted panels of a same room/house work together? To what extent is the mimicry of a Greek panel painting a symbol of the past? The relation between mythological pictures in Roman wall-painting and Greek panel painting has been conceived within the logic of Roman copies of Greek 'masterworks', like ancient sculpture, but with disappointing results, because almost no case of a Roman copy of an actual Greek panel painting can be certainly identified. Jones does not take this as a serious counter-argument against the 'Greekness' of the Roman fictive panel but rather proposes that the Roman (wall-) painting and Greek (panel-) painting is not a mechanical copy, but should be viewed within the broader (or, from the perspective of a critical reader, diffuse) concept of the paradigm. For meaningful ensembles of paintings juxtaposed on Roman walls, the author turns to houses like the Villa Imperiale, where several panels address the same mythological topic. One might object here that the author largely ignores the more frequent cases where there are no straightforward <i>narrative</i> connections among the different mythological pictures in a room. That putting together mythological images relating to different myths may nevertheless make sense – though not so much within the logic of (text-oriented) narrative, but through more image-oriented means (as e.g. by compositional parallels) – has been shown by Lorenz. <sup>4</sup> For understanding ensembles of pictures <i>not</i> bound together by one narrative, Jones follows another path by bringing in the concept of collecting – a subject intensely discussed in recent scholarship. His chief example of Roman fictive panel painting that mimics a collection is the Villa della Farnesina. He points to the intentional diversity of materials, subjects and styles among the painted works in this Villa, convincingly taking it as defining criterion of a collection, aspiring to the idea of completeness through heterogeneity. One may have some reservations concerning the extent to which the diversity of styles in these paintings was understood as a diversity of <i>historical</i> styles. This is an important point for the author, helping him to characterize such images as anachronic, according to the concept developed by the art historians Nagel and Wood. <sup>5</sup> </p> <p>In line with the book's general attempt to integrate scholarship on Roman wall-painting within a general thinking on 'art' instead of keeping it solely within the confines of ancient studies, the short conclusion ('Epilogue: Reflection and Reflexivity': 230–234) connects the self-aware Roman art of painting of painting ("metapainting") with modern art's reflexivity. Generally speaking, Jones' engagement with Roman wall-painting profits from his parallel engagement with ancient (especially "art historical") literature. Another context in which Roman wall-painting and its fictive panels could have been discussed is largely missing: the social ambience of the Roman house, which had become central in Roman wall-painting scholarship since the groundbreaking works of Wallace-Hadrill and others.<sup>6</sup> Indeed, the author sees no necessity of situating painted walls and rooms within the structure of the houses, nor to show their ground plans. As long as we value diversity of approaches in scholarship, this remark cannot count as criticism. As already signaled above, one might, however, disagree with the author's general assumption that the issue of the painted fictive panel is fundamentally about Greek art in a Roman context. Disregarding this potentially debatable aspect, the book´s multifaceted discussions reveal a general phenomenon of great interest, namely that adding another layer of fictionality within the decorative apparatus of the painted wall by turning paintings into 'paintings of paintings' was seen not as a weakening, but as a reinforcement of decorative splendor. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. See especially Verity J. Platt and Michael J. Squire (eds.), <i>The Frame in Classical Art: A Cultural History</i>, Cambridge, 2017. <br> 2. As posited, e.g., in Paul Zanker's <i>Augustus und die Macht der Bilder</i>, Munich, 1987. <br> 3. Michael J. Squire, "Embodied Ambiguities on the Prima Porta Augustus", <i>Art History</i> 36 (2013) 242–279. <br> 4. Katharina Lorenz, <i>Bilder Machen Räume: Mythenbilder in pompeianischen Häusern</i>, Berlin 2008. <br> 5. See e.g. Alexander Nagel and Christopher S. Wood, <i>Anachronic Renaissance</i>, New York, 2010. <br> 6. See e.g. Andrew Wallace-Hadrill, <i>Houses and Society in Pompeii and Herculaneum</i>, Princeton, 1994, and Yvon Thébert, "Vie privée et architecture domestique. Le cadre de vie des élites africaines", in: Paul Veyne (ed.), <i>Histoire de la vie privée I. De l´empire romain à l´an mil</i>, Paris, 1985, 305–397. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-84917428938061892832020-02-06T15:09:00.001-05:002020-02-06T15:09:51.404-05:002020.02.10Edward Feser, <i>Aristotle's Revenge: The Metaphysical Foundations of Physical and Biological Science.</i> Neunkirchen-Seelscheid: Editiones Scholasticae, 2019. Pp. 515. ISBN 9783868382006. €29,99 (pb). <p>Reviewed by Petter Sandstad and Ludger Jansen, University of Rostock (petter.sandstad@uni-rostock.de; ludger.jansen@uni-rostock.de) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-10.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://d-nb.info/117253201x/04">Table of Contents</a></p> <p>This book is a sequel to Feser's <i>Scholastic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction</i> (Feser 2014). While the previous book is a systematic introduction to Feser's neo-Thomistic metaphysics, the current book is an application of this metaphysics to issues connected with physics, biology, and cognitive science. Although the reader will benefit from reading Feser's previous book, the current book can be read on its own since its first chapter summarises the previous book.</p> <p>In a nutshell, the argument of the book is that current best science presupposes Aristotelian metaphysics, by which Feser means, specifically, (1) the distinction between actuality and potentiality, (2) hylomorphism, i.e., the doctrine that natural objects are composed of matter and a substantial form, and (3) the full range of Aristotle's four causes, viz. the material, formal, efficient and final cause. The book is <i>not</i> a historical scholarly work on Aristotle; it does <i>not</i> discuss different interpretations of Aristotle; and it only references a couple of works by Aristotle scholars. Rather, the book is a systematic work within metaphysics, philosophy of science, and what Feser calls 'philosophy of nature'—which is basically a more traditional term for what is currently called 'metaphysics of science' (as in, e.g., Schrenk 2017). On a common conception, Aristotle's philosophy is in conflict with much of contemporary science. Aristotle rejected atomism, ruled out evolution by chance, defended presentism (denied by Einsteinian relativity) and the independence of macro-level substances like organisms (in conflict with reductionism and quantum physics). Feser aims to show these conflicts to be illusory, and argues for agreement on a fundmental level.</p> <p>Chapter 1 is a summary of Feser's Aristotelico-Thomistic metaphysics, which is an Aristotelianism largely following Thomas Aquinas. Feser's ontological commitments are fairly heavyweight, as he is committed to (1) primary substances, (2) prime matter, (3) facts, (4) abstractions, (5) intellects, and (6) potentialities. He contrasts this metaphysics with what he calls 'the mechanical philosophy', specifically the metaphysics of early modern philosophers who were critical of Aristotle, such as Descartes, Hobbes, Locke and Spinoza. In a very nice overview, he summarises and refutes their criticism of Aristotelianism (pp. 52–64).</p> <p>Chapter 2 discusses methodological issues (induction, status of empirical claims and observations, mathematical characterisations, etc.), defends the principle of sufficient reason, and argues from a phenomenological background that science presupposes a thinking, conscious, embodied subject, namely the scientist. To defend this last claim, Feser introduces retorsion arguments, which refute a claim "by showing that anyone making it is led thereby into a performative self-contradiction" (p. 80). Feser makes frequent use of such arguments throughout the book.</p> <p>Chapter 3 polemizes against verificationism, falsification, and variants of structural realism (such as Ladyman 2014). Some of this material, like the discussion of Cartwright's account of laws of nature (Cartwright 1999), is fairly textbook material, but there is also some original content, like Feser's defence of Cartwright against some recent criticism by Hoefer (2008) and Smolin (2013).</p> <p>Chapter 4 discusses space, motion and time. With 112 pages, it is by far the longest chapter in the book, and it answers to arguments that cite results from contemporary physics, such as inertia and Einsteinian relativity, as empirical refutations of Aristotelianism. Feser's reply, in short, is that space, moments of time and inertia are all abstractions—and although they are, in some respect, <i>real</i>, nonetheless they leave out many aspects of reality. Feser also argues that a presentist view of time is preferable over other A-theories of time (growing block, moving spotlight), and preferable over any B-theory, as these cannot account for the special role of the present.</p> <p>Chapter 5 discusses several topics related to the philosophy of matter. Feser discusses what sense Aristotelianism can make of (prime) matter in quantum mechanics, and he joins the mainstream of philosophy of chemistry (p. 332) against reductionism. Feser also rebuts the classic distinction between primary and secondary qualities. Finally, Feser rejects the view that material things like the world as a whole, the brain or a genome are computational systems running certain programmes. In his critique, Feser largely follows Searle's (1992) critique of computationalism. However, while Searle argues that information is not a natural kind and thus causally inert, Feser defends the view that teleology contains natural information. For Feser, "computational notions are essentially a recapitulation of the Aristotelian notions of formal and final causality" (p. 351). </p> <p>The final chapter 6 discusses biological issues, such as the origin of life, different variants of reductionism, teleology, species essentialism, evolution, the issue of free will and neuroscience, and the Intelligent Design hypothesis: Feser holds that evolution is compatible with and presupposes Aristotelianism, while the Intelligent Design hypothesis treats living beings like artefacts and is thus incompatible with the Aristotelian assumption of substantial natures inhering in living beings.</p> <p>From the content, it should already be clear that Feser's account is not a mere repristination of neo-Scholastic Aristotelianism but is also tailored to deal with current scientific ideas. Some of Feser's discussions are of particular interest. For example, Feser's mereological take on formal and material causation is highly original. Feser says that formal causation is what "Aristotelians" call the "dependence of matter on form and of parts on the whole", and that material causation is what they call the "dependence of form on matter and of whole on parts" (p. 314). Unfortunately, there is no further discussion of this idea. </p> <p>Another exciting topic, already dealt with in Feser (2014), is that of potentiality. One idea original to the new book is that kinds of natural substances can be ordered along a scale of potentiality, according to how many potentialities they have (p. 430). Highest on the scale is prime matter, which has the potential to become anything. Lower on the scale are fermions, even lower is water, and very low on the scale are, e.g., cows and other higher forms of life. Such a hierarchy might be implicit in Aristotle's discussion of water, wine, and vinegar in <i>Metaphysics</i> VIII 5.</p> <p>A potentiality, as understood by Feser, is "a real feature of the world, and a middle ground between non-being [...] and actuality" (p. 15). However, Feser seems not to distinguish sufficiently between potentialities, possibilities, and dispositions (Jansen 2016). In cases like the fermions, what has many potentialities has very few dispositions, while for cows or humans, it is the other way around. This also points to a limitation of Feser's idea of <i>virtual</i> existence: Saying that it is possible for a fermion to be part of a cow is not the same as saying that the fermion has a disposition to be part of a cow. There is a further problem. On the one hand, all 'higher' forms of being are already 'virtually' contained in prime matter—which means that there are powers in prime matter that allow for the generation of the other forms of being. (Remember that 'virtually' derives from Latin <i>vir-</i>, power.) On the other hand, Feser insists that substances (like fermions, copper or cats) bring with them new and irreducible powers. It is not obvious how he can resolve this tension. </p> <p>Another problem is that Feser often confuses the metaphysical and the epistemological aspects of science. For instance, the Aristotelian doctrines are often argued to be indispensable because the phenomena otherwise would be unintelligible (p. 35). Similarly, the <i>principle of sufficient reason</i> is about intelligibility, rather than anything metaphysical (p. 75). This also extends to logic, for instance with Feser's claim that inferences are concerned with intelligibility or explanatory adequacy. Similarly, in his discussion of reduction in chemistry, Feser argues that the <i>identification</i> of the lower levels presupposes a prior <i>grasp</i> of the higher levels (p. 340). In a similar vein, Feser says that Aristotle's four causes are not only causes, but also explanations and even components of accounts (p. 39). Further, Feser accepts Locke's point that "real essence, you might say, 'piggybacks' on nominal essence" (p. 333): But, this dependence seems to be merely epistemological, namely to <i>know</i> the real essence of a thing one must first <i>know</i> its nominal essence. However, nominal essences metaphysically depend upon real essences, and thus the relationship is not, as Feser claims, reciprocal.</p> <p>Feser's view of universals (as well as space, moments of time, inertia) has strong conceptual elements, despite his protestations to the contrary (p. 170). He does not claim that universals etc. are merely free creations of the intellect, but that they are abstracted from the perception of particular things in a systematic and scientific way. These abstractions only exist within an intellect (pp. 170, 176, 236). In this too Feser follows Aquinas, and one could possibly also draw lines to Avicenna, or even the recent work of David Wiggins. </p> <p>Feser's book adds to a growing body of literature on neo-Aristotelian approaches in metaphysics and the philosophy of science. However, Feser stands out from other analytic neo-Aristotelians with his in-depth knowledge and discussion of 20<sup>th</sup> and 21<sup>st</sup> century neo-Thomistic literature, and one can learn a lot from reading this book: for instance, that there is a transcendental Thomism inspired by Kant, or that a Thomist like Feser can make use of Heidegger's phenomenology. However, while this eclectic breadth is certainly interesting, it makes for a less unified book. </p> <p>Given the subtitle, "the metaphysical foundations of physical and biological science", one would have expected a largely constructive account that shows in detail how today's physics, biology and neuroscience rely on Aristotelian doctrines. This is not so. Instead, the book is largely polemical, and Feser should have spent more pages explaining his own views and claims. Also, while Feser occasionally criticises theories in the current literature (such as Ladyman's ontic structural realism), he more often engages with older views, such as the early moderns, or logical positivism, or Russell and Quine; or literature from the 80s and 90s.</p> <p>As a result, it is not easy to identify the intended audience. The book is certainly written in an accessible style and language, which makes it readable also for undergraduate students, and even a popular audience could find much of the discussion valuable. Feser presents many of the key topics and discussions from philosophy of science and metaphysics of science, as well as his own neo-Thomistic perspective. Maybe professional philosophers will be interested in reading some of Feser's polemics, for instance, against structural realism, reductionism, or non-presentist views of time. Finally, the book can serve as a reference point for metaphysicians and philosophers of science interested in learning about neo-Thomistic approaches in these fields. All of these audiences can benefit from reading the book, although it is not ideally targeted at any of them. Nevertheless, it will certainly be exciting for scholars of Aristotle or Aquinas to see how these theories are used to elucidate the exciting discoveries of modern physics, biology and neuroscience.<sup>1</sup></p> <p></p> <h4>Bibliography:</h4><p></p> <p></p> Cartwright, Nancy (1999). <i>The Dappled World: A Study of the Boundaries of Science</i>, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.<br> Feser, Edward (2014). <i> Scholastic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction</i>, Neunkirchen-Seelscheid: Editiones Scholasticae.<br> Hoefer, Carl (2008). For Fundamentalism, in: <i>Nancy Cartwright's Philosophy of Science</i>, S. Hartmann, C. Hoefer, & L. Bovens (eds.), London: Routledge.<br> Jansen, Ludger (2016). <i>Tun und Können</i>, Berlin: Springer.<br> Ladyman, James (2016). "Structural realism", in: <i>Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy</i>, E. N. Zalta (ed.), <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2016/entries/structural-realism/">https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/win2016/entries/structural-realism/</a><br> Rosenberg, Alex (2011). <i>The Atheist's Guide to Reality</i>, New York: W.W. Norton.<br> Schrenk, Markus (2017). <i>Metaphysics of Science: A Systematic and Historical Introduction</i>, London and New York: Routledge.<br> Searle, John (1992). <i>The Rediscovery of the Mind</i>, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.<br> Smolin, Lee (2013). <i>Time Reborn</i>, New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.<br> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Research for this review has been supported by the German Research Foundation under the auspices of the project "Formal Causation in Aristotle and Analytic Metaphysics and Philosophy of Science" (JA 1904/4-1). </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-85020556443159239532020-02-06T14:53:00.001-05:002020-02-06T14:53:47.113-05:002020.02.09Cecilia Mussini, Stefano Rocchi, Giovanni Cascio (ed.), <i>Storie di libri e tradizioni manoscritte dall'Antichità all'Umanesimo: in memoria di Alessandro Daneloni. Münchener Italienstudien, Band 5.</i> München: Herbert Utz Verlag, 2018. Pp. 396. ISBN 9783831646043. <p>Reviewed by Fjodor Montemurro, Liceo Scientifico "Tarantino", Gravina in Puglia (fyodor.montemurro@gmail.com) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-09.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p></p> <a href="https://books.google.com/books?id=V7ddDwAAQBAJ">Preview</a><br> [Authors and titles are listed below.]<br> <p>Il volume raccoglie i contributi presentati presso la <i>Bayerische Staatsbibliothek</i> di Monaco il 29 maggio 2015 in occasione di una giornata di studi dedicata alla memoria dello studioso italiano Alessandro Daneloni, scomparso prematuramente. Denominatore comune dei saggi della miscellanea è il tema del viaggio, reale o metaforico nel tempo e nello spazio, di libri manoscritti (molti di essi conservati proprio presso la <i>Bayerische Staatsbibliothek</i>) ovvero una riflessione sul genere odeporico in opere medievali e umanistiche. Ogni articolo è altamente specialistico e approfondisce aspetti poco noti relativi a singole tradizioni testuali o a vicende inedite della filologia antica e umanistica. I titoli e gli autori sono elencati in dettaglio al termine della presente recensione. </p> <p>I primi due saggi affrontano vicende della storia manoscritta di autori classici. Dániel Kiss ed Edina Zsupán ricostruiscono la storia di un manoscritto perduto contenente il testo degli elegiaci latini Catullo, Tibullo e Properzio. Gli studiosi mettono in luce come presso la <i>Hofbibliothek</i> di Monaco fossero conservati in tempi differenti, dal 1582 agli inizi dell'Ottocento, tre manoscritti sotto la medesima sigla <i>Cod. Lat. 473</i>: un manoscritto con il testo dei tre elegiaci, scomparso e probabilmente rubato tra il 1710 e il 1758, un vocabolario italiano tedesco collocato, forse dal ladro stesso, al suo posto (siglato ora come <i>Cod. it. 362</i>), un codice pergamenaceo catulliano tuttora conservato presso la <i>Bayerische Staatsbibliothek</i>. Con buone argomentazioni gli studiosi concludono che quest'ultimo manoscritto non sia da considerare una parte dell'antico codice disperso, poiché è improbabile che esso sia stato smembrato dai bibliotecari della <i>Hofbibliothek</i>.</p> <p>L'articolo di Stefano Rocchi e Leofranc A. Holford-Strevens ripercorre la storia delle edizioni antiche di Aulo Gellio, dimostrando come l'opera fosse composta in origine da 21 libri, poiché il primo libro consisteva nella prefazione cui facevano seguito i <i>capita rerum</i> degli altri 20 libri delle <i>Noctes Atticae</i>, prima di essere smembrati ed essere distribuiti all'inizio di ogni libro; adducendo pertinenti esempi di rinumerazione di opere antiche già in età tardoantica (in particolare Columella, i cui libri 3-12 furono rubricati nuovamente come libri 4-13 a causa dell'inserzione successiva del <i>Liber de Arboribus</i>), gli autori evidenziano come il testo gelliano circolasse già nel terzo secolo sotto forma di <i>codex</i> e come la ripartizione dei libri nelle edizioni manoscritte fosse suscettibile di variazione.</p> <p>Giulia Pelucchi propone una edizione di una lettera del medico padovano Giovanni Dondi dall'Orologio indirizzata a Paganino da Sala e Arsendino Arsendi, datandola tra il 1379 e il 1380, nel contesto del contrasto tra Padova e Venezia nella guerra di Chioggia.</p> <p>Il saggio di Giovanni Cascio rappresenta uno studio preparatorio per una nuova edizione del volgarizzamento toscano dell'opera petrarchesca <i>Itinerarium ad sepulcrum domini nostri Yehsu Christi</i>, nota con l'erroneo titolo di <i>Itinerarium Syriacum</i>, epistola di carattere odeporico dedicata dal poeta di Arezzo a Giovanni Mandelli in viaggio per la Terra Santa e che godette di una certa fortuna in età umanistica, visti i ben 45 mss. e le numerose stampe antiche che la tramandano. Dell'operetta possediamo anche due volgarizzamenti, uno in napoletano, con cinque testimoni, e l'altro in toscano, con un unico testimone. Cascio appunta la sua attenzione sulla versione toscana, tramandata dal ms. Bc (<i>948 Bil. Nac. Catalunya</i>) e compie una disamina delle lezioni di Bc al confronto con VD (<i>Vat. Lat. 3357</i>), codice che tramanda l'<i>Itinerarium</i> e il <i>De Vita solitaria</i> e ritenuto diretto discendente dell'autografo petrarchesco, e ha buon gioco nel rimarcare come VD sia costituito da due unità codicologiche distinte i cui destini devono rimanere separati e nell'escludere che la fonte di Bc possa essere il ms. Parmense <i>Pal. 79 A</i>. Si segnala che il saggio non è sempre di agevole lettura: il manoscritto Bc viene citato con tale sigla già nella nota 13 a pag. 62 (ove si discute la parentela con il ramo napoletano) senza che il lettore abbia contezza che si tratti della versione toscana, per poi invece essere presentato a pagina 64 e alla nota 16. Per lo stesso ms. <i>Vat. Lat. 3357</i>, la sigla VD si deduce solo intuitivamente dalla nota 18 a p. 65.</p> <p>Laura Refe ricostruisce il contesto culturale di provenienza del codice 526 della Riccardiana di Firenze, vergato da Bartolomeo Sachella e che tramanda le tragedie senecane. Con acutezza, la studiosa individua nelle iniziali <i>GI/OL</i> presenti nel margine del manoscritto il possessore del codice, ossia Giovanni Olzina, intimo consigliere di Alfonso il Magnanimo, ed è fine intuizione che il rapporto tra Sachella e Olzina fosse legato alla figura di Guiniforte Barzizza, funzionario della corte aragonese incaricato dell'allestimento di codici.</p> <p>Piacevolmente scritto, animato da apprezzabile enfasi oratoria ma nondimeno puntuale nei riferimenti, è l'articolo di Paolo Rondinelli dedicato all'umanista Lorenzo Lippi, autore di un <i>Liber proverbiorum</i> dedicato al Lorenzo il Magnifico; la silloge, composta tra il 1474 e il 1477, pervasa da una <i>docta varietas</i> di sapore gelliano, raccoglie i proverbi che l'umanista seleziona nel suo viaggio ideale tra i tantissimi autori greci e latini da cui saccheggia la <i>prudentia</i> e la <i>sapientia</i>, concepiti come miniere di <i>paideia</i> da portare con sé lungo il cammino (par-oimia, ossia etimologicamente, <i>iuxta viam e iuxta rationem</i>, come scrive Lippi nella prefazione). Ogni sezione è sintesi di <i>paroimia</i> e <i>interpretamentum</i>, un proverbio antico seguito da un commento; i detti sono classificati in maniera non sistematica, un vero e proprio <i>collage</i> virtuosistico che dedica gran parte alla letteratura di viaggio, in cui fonte privilegiata è lo Strabone latino di Guarino Veronese. Poco apprezzata dal Timpanaro, l'opera di Lippi, come Rondinelli mette in luce, rappresenta invece il primo tentativo di utilizzare il <i>proverbium</i> come eredità di una sapienza greco-latina in un momento cruciale della storia d'Europa, assediata dai Turchi sino al Friuli, e si pone come antesignana e fonte diretta di ben più note opere paremiografiche, come gli <i>Adagia</i> di Erasmo o di Polidoro Virgilio.</p> <p>Il saggio di Claudia Wiener e di Bernd Posselt ricostruisce la genesi del progetto cinquecentesco di una <i>Germania illustrata</i>, modellata sul binomio <i>imitatio</i>/<i>aemulatio</i> della <i>Italia illustrata</i> di Biondo Flavio, e mai completata dal suo iniziatore Conrad Celtis. Entrambe le sezioni del saggio intendono dimostrare in maniera convincente il ruolo dell'Umanesimo Italiano nella incipiente produzione geografica e letteraria dell'Umanesimo tedesco. In particolare, i due studiosi analizzano la Braunschweigbeschreibung (<i>Descriptio belli Brunsvicii</i>) di Tilman Rasches, nome originale del più noto umanista di Zierenberg Telomonius Ornatomontanus, evidenziando i rapporti testuali con la <i>Descriptio altera urbis Basileae</i> e la <i>Historia Austrialis</i> di Enea Silvio Piccolomini. Si rivela interessante per la diffusione della letteratura geografica il fatto che una parte del testo di Rasches sia stato collocato da Hartman Schedel, l'autore della famosissima opera compilatoria nota come <i>Liber Chronicarum</i> (<i>Die Schedelsche Weltchronik</i> o <i>Cronache di Norimberga</i>) all'interno della sua copia manoscritta (conservata nella <i>Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Rar. 287</i>, ff. 268 ss.). Ancora più convincente è la sezione del saggio dedicata ai <i>Quattuor libri amorum secundum quattor latera Germaniae</i>, opera del già citato Celtis a carattere erotico ma su cui si innesta un intento odeporico: ogni libro si focalizza su una donna-eroina e su una città della Germania (Cracovia, Ratisbona, Mainz e Lubecca). Gli autori mettono in luce come gli <i>Amores</i> scavalchino sia la tradizione elegiaca sia quella di viaggio (sin da Orazio <i>Sat.</i> 1.5) ma si pongano al lettore come un tentativo di costruire una ideale mappa della Germania attraverso percorsi che seguono le direttrici dei fiumi tedeschi. Ciò è particolarmente evidente nella elegia 4.2 (<i>Viaggio al Nord</i>) che viene dettagliatamente scandagliata dal punto di vista testuale fino a riconoscere nel componimento "ein weiteres Rezeptionsdokument von Rasches Braunschweigbeschreibung" (p. 295). </p> <p>I saggi di Cecilia Mussini e di Giorgio Piras sono incentrati sull'attività filologica di Poliziano. Piras studia la collazione del noto Terenzio Bembino (<i>Vat. Lat. 3226</i>), approntata dal Poliziano durante un viaggio nel Nord Italia nel 1491 a margine di un incunabolo ora conservato a Firenze (Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale di Firenze, <i>B.R. 97</i>, già <i>Laur. Plut. 38, 14</i>); il volume passò tra le mani prima del Crinito e poi del Vettori, che lo citò in varie sue opere filologiche. Piras mostra come il Vettori sia stato particolarmente attratto dalle particolarità ortografiche del Bembino, scrupolosamente annotate dal Poliziano, e mette in luce come l'uso dell'incunabolo polizianeo sia ravvisabile anche in alcuni appunti o fogli di lavoro inediti dello stesso Vettori. Mussini si focalizza sugli studi giuridici di Poliziano, in particolare sul progetto, mai portato a termine, di un testo critico delle <i>Pandectae</i> corredato di commento, e analizza filologicamente le carte monacensi di argomento giuridico, che contengono una parte dei materiali preparatori, e alcuni incunaboli fiorentini su cui Poliziano operava la collazione. Particolarmente interessante è lo studio dei segni diacritici utilizzati dall'umanista, l'uso della <i>crux</i> e soprattutto i due punti sovrascritti, che indicano termini sospetti dal punto di vista grammaticale e/o morfologico; rilevante appare, mediante il confronto con le <i>Miscellaneorum centuria prima</i> e <i>secunda</i> l'individuazione di una cesura metodologica del lavoro di collazione, interrotto a <i>Digestum</i> 4. 8. 13, e poi ripreso in collaborazione con Pier Matteo Uberti.</p> <p>Il saggio di Antonio Antonazzo, infine, illumina sui rapporti dell'astrologo e indovino Nostradamus e la tradizione filosofica neoplatonica-scientifica italiana del Quattro e Cinquecento. Pur avendo legato la sua fama principalmente alle sue <i>Prophéties</i>, silloge di vaticini metrici in più edizioni dal 1555 al 1568, Michel de Notredame (1503-1566) fu molto noto altresì per gli <i>Almanachs</i> o <i>Pronostications</i>, pubblicazioni annuali in cui trovavano posto sia la descrizione dei fenomeni astronomici sia le predizioni degli eventi più importanti. Proprio attraverso le lettere dedicatorie o prefatorie alle sue opere, è possibile aggiungere nuovi tasselli allo studio, ancora poco indagato, delle relazioni tra Nostradamus e la letteratura scientifica del tempo. In particolare, Antonazzo si richiama agli studi di Brind'Amour, il quale aveva dimostrato come l'indovino avesse saccheggiato a piene mani l'opera dell'erudito Pier Crinito, noto allievo di Poliziano, per la stesura della lettera dedicata a suo figlio César e posta come introduzione della prima edizione delle <i> Prophéties</i>; parimenti, lo stesso studioso aveva evidenziato i debiti che il Nostradamus aveva nei confronti del Savonarola. Antonazzo affina tale filone di ricerca dissotterrando un retroterra testuale sinora insospettato: la lettera dedicata al conte Fabrizio Serbelloni, scritta in italiano e che funge da introduzione all'almanacco del 1563, riproduce quasi <i>verbatim</i> il dettato della lettera prefatoria che Giovanni Landino aveva premesso al suo volgarizzamento della <i>Naturalis historia</i> di Plinio, andato in stampa a Venezia nel 1476. Antonazzo con acume individua l'interessamento di Nostradamus nei confronti di Plinio in un tratto che va oltre la curiosità scientifica: il Landino infatti esponeva nella sua lettera una visione scientifica ispirata più a Platone che a Plinio, "con un percorso di conoscenza ascensionale, compiuto «con le platoniche ali levandosi in volo», partendo dalle cose visibili per giungere a quelle invisibili" (p. 388). Antonazzo infatti giustamente insiste sulla formazione neoplatonica del giovane Nostradamus, evidente nei suoi rapporti con l'umanista Giulio Cesare Scaligero e col neoplatonico Marsilio Ficino, traduttore del <i>Corpus Hermeticum</i>. Il breve saggio, oltre a disvelare e perfezionare le tessere culturali alla base della formazione del famoso astrologo, si pone come base per ulteriori ricerche relative all'eredità e alla fortuna d'Oltralpe del filone scientifico e filosofico del tardo umanesimo.</p> <p></p> <h4>Authors and titles</h4><p></p> <p></p> Cecilia Mussini – Stefano Rocchi – Giovanni Cascio, Premessa, 7<br> Dániel Kiss – Edina Zsupán, "Eine Catullhandschrift in der Bayerischen Staatsbibliothek und ihre verlorene Doppelgängerin", 13<br> Stefano Rocchi – Leofranc A. Holford-Strevens, "The Twenty-One Books of Aulus Gellius' Attic Nights: An Early History of the Text and Ancient Textual Arrangements", 25<br> Giulia Perucchi, "Un'epistola di Giovanni Dondi a Arsendino Arsendi e Paganino da Sala", 35<br> Giovanni Cascio, "Considerazioni sul volgarizzamento toscano dell'Itinerarium di Francesco Petrarca", 57<br> Laura Refe, "Il ms. 526 della Biblioteca Riccardiana di Firenze tra Bartolomeo Sachella e Giovanni Olzina", 93<br> Paolo Rondinelli, "Cento compagni di viaggio. Storia della tradizione del Liber proverbiorum di Lorenzo Lippi", 127<br> Cecilia Mussini, "Gli studi giuridici di Poliziano e la collazione delle Pandette", 153<br> Claudia Wiener – Bernd Posselt, "Tilman Rasches Braunschweig und Conrad Celtis' Reise in den Norden (Am. 4.2): Zwei Fallstudien zur Adaption zeitgenössischer und antiker Modelle in literarischen Deutschlandbeschreibungen um 1500, 235 <br> Giorgio Piras, "Pier Vettori e Poliziano: per la storia del Terenzio Bembino e della filologia terenziana nel Cinquecento", 323<br> Antonino Antonazzo, "Per Nostradamus e l'umanesimo filosofico-scientifico. Il caso di Cristoforo Landino", 371<br> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-18163475035196533372020-02-06T14:45:00.001-05:002020-02-06T14:45:51.762-05:002020.02.08Simon Lentzsch, <i>Roma victa: Von Roms Umgang mit Niederlagen. Schriften zur Alten Geschichte.</i> Stuttgart: J.B. Metzler, 2019. Pp. xi, 484. ISBN 9783476048301. €59,99 (pb). <p>Reviewed by Peter Herz, Universität Regensburg (Peter.herz@geschichte.uni-regensburg.de) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-08.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p>Das hier zu besprechende Buch ist aus einer althistorischen Dissertation hervorgegangen, die im Wintersemester 2016/17 unter dem Titel ‚Militärische Niederlagen in der römischen Erinnerungskultur' an der Universität Köln angenommen wurde. Der ursprüngliche Titel beschreibt die Zielsetzung dieser Untersuchung wesentlich zutreffender, denn es geht hier weniger um militärisch-administrative oder politische Reaktionen auf römische Niederlagen, sondern um deren Bewältigung in der römischen Historiographie. Die Limitierung auf die Geschichte der römischen Republik ist bedauerlich, denn die parallel dazu erschienene Arbeit von O. Stoll macht deutlich, dass auch die römische Kaiserzeit genügend Material für diese Fragestellung liefern kann.<sup>1</sup></p> <p>Wenn man aber diese Zielstellung erst einmal akzeptiert hat, dann bietet Lentzsch (L.) in seiner Untersuchung einen grundsoliden und gut informierten Beitrag zu der Erforschung dieser Fragestellung.</p> <p>L. beginnt in seiner Einleitung (1-19) mit einer breiten und gut dokumentierten Geschichte der bisherigen Forschung zu seinem Thema. Im Anschluss daran legt er seine Kriterien für die Auswahl der von ihm genauer diskutierten Bereiche offen. L. geht dabei von der Vorstellung einer gemeinsamen römischen Erinnerungskultur aus, in der ein weitgehender Konsens in der historischen Bewertung bestimmter Ereignisse vorhanden war. Vor diesem Hintergrund werden dann die gegen die Gallier verlorene Schlacht an der Allia und die Kämpfe um Numantia als zeitliche Eckpunkte für seine Untersuchungen ausgewählt. Dabei wird z. B. die Vernichtung der Fabier an der Cremera ausgeschieden, obwohl diese Niederlage deutliche Anklänge an den Opfertod der Spartaner an den Thermopylen aufweisen kann.</p> <p>Die Limitierung seiner Untersuchung auf drei ausgewählte Gruppen von Gegnern (Kelten, Samniten, Punier) ist auch aus Gründen der Ökonomie nachvollziehbar, obwohl damit u. a. auch die sehr verlustreichen Kriege auf der iberischen Halbinsel und gegen die Germanen herausfallen, die den Römern viele schwere Niederlagen (etwa die Katastrophe von Arausio) bescherten. Es wäre schon interessant, wenn wir sagen könnten, wie ein Livius diese Katastrophen behandelt und gedeutet hat.</p> <p>In Kapitel 2 ‚Methodische Vorbemerkungen' (21-71) liefert L. einen guten Überblick zur aktuellen Diskussion zum römischen Umgang mit Geschichte und Geschichtsschreibung. Bereits in diesem immer noch einleitenden Kapitel wird eine der positiven Charakteristika der gesamten Untersuchung sehr deutlich. L. operiert in der Regel auf der Basis einer gründlichen Kenntnis der einschlägigen antiken Literatur, was sich u. a. an den teilweise sehr ausführlichen Zitaten aus den entsprechenden Autoren ablesen lässt, die den Lesern in den Fußnoten präsentiert werden. Es ist im gewissen Sinne ein fast altmodisches Buch, was der Rezensent durchaus als Kompliment verstehen möchte, da sich L. nicht davor gescheut hat, sich ausführlich mit dem Quellenbestand auseinanderzusetzen.</p> <p>Die eigentlichen Detailuntersuchungen beginnen in Kapitel 3 ‚Seit dem Bestand unserer Herrschaft der gefährlichste Gegner' (73-169) mit der Behandlung der Keltenkriege. Dabei konzentriert sich L. auf die römische Katastrophe an der Allia und die anschließende Besetzung Roms durch die Gallier, ein Ereignis, das nur durch die erfolgreiche Verteidigung des Kapitols etwas gemildert wurde. Neben einer ausführlichen Diskussion, wie diese Ereignisse in der literarischen Tradition behandelt wurden, bietet L. auch einen guten Überblick zu den Erklärungsmustern, die man zur Deutung entwickelte. Dabei ist neben der individuellen Überheblichkeit vor allem die sträfliche Vernachlässigung der religio von Bedeutung. Leider bleibt neben der Aufarbeitung der literarischen Tradition die historische Einbindung des Keltenangriffs etwas auf der Strecke. Die Möglichkeit, den keltischen Angriff auf Rom im Kontext der italischen Politik des Dionysios I. von Syrakus zu sehen, hätte zumindest erwähnt werden können. Im Vergleich mit der Niederlage an der Allia bleiben die anderen römischen Niederlagen gegen die Kelten (149 ff.) eher unbedeutend und haben sich wohl auch nicht so stark in das kollektive Gedächtnis der Römer eingebrannt.</p> <p>Im Vergleich dazu ist Kapitel 4 ‚Unters Joch – Die Samnitenkriege' (171-208) sehr knapp ausgefallen. Aus der wechselvollen und blutigen Geschichte dieser Kriege wird vor allem die peinliche römische Kapitulation von Caudium thematisiert. Die Erklärungsmuster, die sich aus der antiken Literatur ermitteln lassen, sind wie bereits bei den Keltenkriegen moralische Überheblichkeit und sträfliche Vernachlässigung der religio durch die Verantwortlichen. Der Gedanke der Revanche für diese Niederlage und auch das Durchhaltevermögen der Römer werden hier etwas stärker betont.</p> <p>Kapitel 5 ‚Rom dunkelste Stunde – Die römisch-karthagischen Kriege' (209-432) ist mit weitem Abstand am ausführlichsten ausgefallen und daher schon fast eine kleine eigenständige Monographie einzustufen. Die Konzentration des Autors auf die beiden ersten punischen Kriege ist sachlich durchaus gerechtfertigt, da der 3. punische Krieg für die Römer teilweise eher peinlich, aber niemals existenzgefährdend war. L. bietet hier eine sehr ausführliche und gut fundierte Untersuchung fast der gesamten einschlägigen römischen Historiographie zu diesen beiden Konflikten, deren Resultate in konzentrierter Form in den vielen Fußnoten präsentiert wird. </p> <p>Von den reichlich vorhandenen Katastrophen des 1. Punischen Krieges werden in exemplarischer Form die von Claudius Pulcher zu verantwortende Katastrophe von Drepana und die Niederlage des Atilius Regulus in Afrika behandelt. Warum man gerade Claudius Pulcher als Übertäter herausgriff, wird nicht recht deutlich. Es gab auch genügend andere Feldherren, die durch Leichtsinn oder schiere Inkompetenz in diesem Krieg Flotten verloren. Pulcher dürfte aber der einzige unter ihnen gewesen sein, der sich durch sein anschließendes Verhal-ten der Meinung des Senates widersetzte (Ernennung seines scriba zum dictator).</p> <p>Die stark an Einzelpersonen ausgerichtete Geschichtsschreibung wird gut am Beispiel des Atilius Regulus exemplifiziert. Man könnte sein Schicksal fast in die Worte zusammenfassen, dass er zwar sein Heer verloren hatte, aber dennoch als der moralische Sieger vom Platz gehen konnte.</p> <p>Der 2. Punische Krieg stellt im Vergleich zum ersten Krieg eindeutig ein Sonderfall dar. Wir besitzen nicht nur mit der 3. Dekade des Livius eine durchgehende historische Quelle, sondern dieser Konflikt scheint auch deutlichere Spuren im kollektiven Gedächtnis des populus Romanus hinterlassen zu haben. L. arbeitet das entsprechende Material gewissenhaft auf und kann so die literarische Auseinandersetzung bis weit in die frühe Kaiserzeit hinein verfolgen. </p> <p>Warum gerade dieser Krieg einen so bedeutenden Einfluss auf die spätere Erinnerungskultur der Römer gehabt hat, lässt sich wohl nicht monokausal erklären. Natürlich war die existentielle Bedrohung Roms durch den Feind wesentlich größer gewesen als im 1. Krieg, der sich ja weitgehend auf Kriegsschauplätzen außerhalb Italiens abgespielt hatte. Es dürfte aber auch daran gelegen haben, dass dieser Krieg wesentlich mehr auf beiden Seiten durch be-deutende Einzelpersönlichkeiten geprägt wurde, auf die man sich leichter als Vorbild beziehen konnte. Der 1. punische Krieg konnte weder mit einem Scipio Africanus noch einem Hannibal dienen. Vor dem Hintergrund der vielen Bürgerkriege und internen Streitigkeiten, die die späte Republik heimgesucht hatten, musste dieser Krieg geradezu wie ein Helden-epos wirken, das den späteren Generationen aufzeigen konnte, was der populus Romanus leisten konnte, wenn er sich im Kampf gegen einen Gegner einig war.</p> <p>L. hat durch seine gewissenhafte und detailfreudige Analyse der literarischen Überlieferung einen wichtigen Beitrag nicht nur zur Geschichte der römischen Republik, sondern auch zur römischen Geschichtsschreibung für diese Epoche geliefert. Er kennt nicht nur sein Quellenmaterial, sondern hat sich auch intensiv und sehr kenntnisreich mit der vielfältigen Forschungsdiskussion auseinandergesetzt. Alles in allem eine bemerkenswerte Leistung.</p> <p>Die Arbeit wird durch ein ausführliches Quellen- und Literaturverzeichnis (445 ff.), sowie ein Register der Orte (479-480) und Personen (481-484) beschlossen. Bei der Anfertigung des Personenregisters ist L. sehr arbeitssparend verfahren und hat sich eine Differenzierung der großen Lemmata erspart (vgl. das Lemma Hannibal mit rund 60 Seitenangaben). Dass er aber völlig auf die Anfertigung eines Stellenindexes verzichtet hat, ist bei einer so stark mit antiken Quellen arbeitenden Untersuchung nur schwer zu tolerieren. L. hat sich damit einen Bärendienst erwiesen, denn er hat damit dem interessierten Leser den Zugriff auf die vielen guten Bemerkungen und Erkenntnisse, die sich in diesem Buch finden lassen, unnötig schwer gemacht. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. O. Stoll, <i>Vestigia Cladis – Roms Umgang mit militärischem Misserfolg. Niederlagen verdrängen, Siege betonen, Resilienz beweisen</i>, Frank & Timme, Berlin 2019. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6588247216777605704.post-36981590127437772082020-02-05T11:21:00.001-05:002020-02-05T11:21:13.845-05:002020.02.07Camilla Colombi, <i>La necropoli di Vetulonia nel periodo orientalizzante. Italiká, 5.</i> Wiesbaden: Dr. Ludwig Reichert Verlag, 2018. Pp. 406; 124 p. of plates. ISBN 9783954902675. €168.00. <p>Reviewed by Ross Cowan (mantinea@hotmail.com) <p> <a href="http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2020/2020-02-07.html">Version at BMCR home site</a><p> <span class="fullpost"><p><a href="https://reichert-verlag.de/en/keywords/vetulonia_keyword/9783954902675_la_necropoli_di_vetulonia_nel_periodo_orientalizzante-detail">Publisher's Preview</a></p> <p>On the day of Corpus Christi in 1880, Isidoro Falchi looked upon the Cyclopean remains at Colonna di Buriano and knew that he had finally located an Etruscan city lost for seven centuries: Vetulonia. Despite being a self-taught archaeologist (he was a medical doctor by profession), Falchi's publications about this great discovery resulted in his appointment as Ispettore degli scavi of the Ministero della Pubblica Istruzione. From 1884 to 1913, he conducted 34 campaigns of excavation in the Villanovan, Orientalising and later cemeteries at Vetulonia, and investigated the remains and extent of the city in its Etruscan and Roman phases. As a result of Falchi's fabulous discoveries, Colonna was renamed Vetulonia by royal decree in 1887.</p> <p>Falchi died in 1914. Thereafter excavation of the city and cemeteries of Vetulonia was sporadic and limited in scope (e.g. the campaigns of Doro Levi in 1926 or Anna Talocchini in the late 1950s and 1960s), or focused on the re-investigation of sites previously explored by Falchi. In <i>La necropoli di Vetulonia nel periodo orientalizzante</i>, Camilla Colombi emphasises the fundamental importance of Falchi's excavations and the need for a thorough reconstruction of his campaigns and re-examination of finds in order to understand the history, culture and changing social structure of Vetulonia in the Orientalising period. This is a daunting task, for Falchi's excavation records, though meticulous, are incomplete and the 1966 floods damaged and disordered many of his finds, which were housed in the Museo Archeologico in Florence.</p> <p>After a brief introduction, in Chapter 2 Colombi discusses the debate concerning the location of Vetulonia and Falchi's rediscovery of the city. She then undertakes the major task of reconstructing Falchi's excavation campaigns, considers the practice of archaeology in the later nineteenth century (she is impressed by Falchi's diligent method), and surveys subsequent excavations and research. Colombi then moves on to the geography and topography of Vetulonia, and looks at the city's ready access to the sea by the <i>lacus Prelius</i> lagoon. A rapid survey follows of the site of Vetulonia in the Bronze and Iron Ages, through the Villanovan and Orientalising periods, the Archaic and Classical eras, and finally its Hellenistic and Roman phases. Colombi then considers the topography of the city's cemeteries and explains how she produced her detailed map of known tombs and burials, which allows the necropolis to be treated as a whole.</p> <p>Colombi moves on to the Orientalising tombs, funeral rituals and grave goods in Chapter 3. Typologies are established: of tombs, based on the surviving structures (<i>circoli</i> predominate initially, giving way to chamber tombs and grand tumuli); and of grave goods (type A – tableware and containers; B – jewellery and dress accessories; C – weapons, utensils and other status insignia; D – chariot parts and equine harness; E – various objects of uncertain type or function). Groups of finds are verified and assigned to tombs/individual burials.</p> <p>In Chapter 4, Colombi sets about dating burials and associated grave goods and assigns them to five phases for the Orientalising period (c. 720-575 BC).<sup>1</sup> She then proceeds to consider the various grave assemblages by type (insignia of rank, weapons, tools, items relating to sacrifice and feasting, <i>keimelia</i> and other symbolic elements that illustrate the emergence, character and development of princely and gentilicial society and culture in Vetulonia).</p> <p>From this, Colombi can demonstrate how, in the later Villanovan period, the elite families of Vetulonia sought to differentiate themselves by grouping their burials in stone circles. Around 700 BC, the first generation of the Orientalising era were buried (Colombi's phase 2b). The occupant of the Circolo del Tridente was buried in a prominent and previously unattested position at Costiaccia Bambagini, with the full panoply of insignia (including the impressive trident from which the tomb takes its name), chariots, arms and luxury goods of the new princely culture. This circle tomb established the focus for the burial of subsequent generations of his family/kin group. This, then, was the tomb of a founding father of a <i>gens</i>. Elite and princely graves dominate the record of the seventh century BC at Vetulonia but, in contrast to the Villanovan era, there are far fewer burials, and the lower classes are entirely absent from the archaeological record of the Orientalising necropolis. Formal burial and visible commemoration had become the preserve of the aristocrat. The high point of this princely culture is marked by Colombi's phase 3 (c. 690-660 BC). This was a society concerned with hierarchy and wealth and it had far- reaching trading and diplomatic contacts. Rich and exotic grave goods illustrate Vetulonia's connections with southern Etruria, Sardinia, the Po Valley, Central Europe and the Cypro-Phoenician world. </p> <p>Colombi detects a change in phase 4 (c. 660-640 BC). The number of tombs drops, especially those of elite females. Males continue to be characterised as warriors; Greek hoplite-type equipment makes its first appearance (e.g. the Corinthian helmet and bronze greaves from the Primo Circolo delle Pellicce, fossa 2). In phase 5 (c. 640-620 BC) and phase 6 (c. 620 to the early decades of the sixth century BC), Colombi demonstrates how the aristocracy of Vetulonia increasingly chose to advertise their wealth and power through the monumental architecture of stone-built chamber tombs in which successive generations could be interred. As with the earliest Orientalising tombs, prominent and highly visible locations that could be seen from land and lagoon were sought for these monuments to gentilicial identity and power; the Tumulo della Pietrera is an early and particularly grand example. Grave goods diminish in number but still reflect the warrior ideology of the elite. Among the spear and javelin heads in the appropriately named Circolo delle Lance (phase 5) is an interesting example of a proto-<i>pilum</i>. As the Orientalising period drew to a close (phase 6), the inscribed and figured tomb marker neatly encapsulated the rank, martial prowess and family/clan heritage of the deceased. The stele of Auvele Feluskes from the Circolo del Guerriero cannot have been the only example. Colombi does not become embroiled in discussion about the difficulties of the inscription (e.g. Feluskes/Pheluskes as patronymic, <i>gentilicium</i> or ethnonym, and the status and origin of the dedicant, Hirumina), and what it might suggest about the nature of militarised <i>gentes</i> at the turn of the Orientalising and Archaic eras, and the phenomenon of elite horizontal social mobility in Central Italy. </p> <p>Columbi closes with concluding remarks about method and findings in the succinct Chapter 5.</p> <p>This handsomely produced volume is profusely illustrated and the accompanying CD contains two extensive catalogues in searchable PDF format (tombs; grave goods by type). The list of contents is detailed and there is an index of tombs, but it is included as column 14 within the second of the two concordances. To consult the concordances, the book has to be turned 90 degrees. An index of subjects would have been useful for quick consultation. That is a minor quibble. Colombi is to be congratulated on producing an essential resource for the understanding, and future study, of Orientalising Vetulonia and its necropolis. </p> <br> <hr><b>Notes:</b> <p><br> 1. Colombi's phases 2-6 represent the Orientalising period. Phase 1 concerns late Villanovan with subsequent Orientalising burials. Phase 7 denotes early Archaic, evolving from Orientalising grave groups. </p> </span> CMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10582851541749359203noreply@blogger.com0