Bryn Mawr Classical Review

Sadie Pickup, Sally Waite (ed.), Shoes, Slippers, and Sandals: Feet and Footwear in Classical Antiquity. Abingdon; New York: Routledge, 2018. Pp. 338. ISBN 9781472488763. £115,00.

Reviewed by Daniel B. Levine, University of Arkansas (dlevine@uark.edu)

Version at BMCR home site

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

This collection originates in a 2015 conference at the University of Newcastle upon Tyne and the Great North Museum. It offers thoughtful examinations of its topic from multiple viewpoints and disciplines, including literature, myth, archaeology, art history, and cultural studies. The focus is Hellenic; only five of the fifteen chapters deal exclusively with Roman material culture.

K. D. Morrow's groundbreaking Greek Footwear and the Dating of Sculpture (1985) has been a standard reference for the current generation of footwear scholars. But in spite of numerous recent publications on feet and shoes in antiquity,¹ there has not been until now a scholarly collection that gathers so many sources on the subject. The chapter bibliographies in this volume are a major contribution to the field, and the abundance of reference material (both material culture and literary works) will greatly enrich future studies.

The Introduction surveys the wide reach of the subject, with appropriate references to each of the 15 chapters that follow. I summarize their contents below.

1. "Sandals on the Wall" is by far the longest (70 pages). The authors discuss the iconography of the Shefton cup in the Great North Museum and other vases that show sandals hanging on walls, with detailed and scholarly summaries of the types of scenes, where they appear, and possible meanings of the relationship between the suspended sandals and the scenes. They conclude: "The suspended sandal, albeit polysemic, relates to a nexus of interrelated themes linked to mobility, transformation, transition and eroticism" (43).

2. In "At the symposium" Valérie Toillon gives a good account of the relationship of boots (and canes) to citizenship and the symposium, pointing out the civic meanings of dress and what the donning and doffing of footwear means in the political, social, and sympotic spheres.

3. Yael Young's "Donning Footwear" explores the invention of the "shoe-tying" scenes found on Attic vases between 520 and 480 B.C.E. Restricted to young men and hetairai, scenes of tying (or untying? — interpreters disagree) denote mobility and liminality, topics stressed in most of the book's chapters. Shoe-tying relates to the owners' performance in a role, be it sympotic entertaining, hoplite racing, or sex work. What underlies the creation of these scenes, Young speculates, is aristocratic anxiety in the face of loss of privileged social status. The new scenes on these vases helped to consolidate aristocratic group identity "by presenting a hedonistic lifestyle, where young males and hetairai, inferior in social status, perform servile roles, forming the target of their scrutinizing gaze" (114).

4. "Boots Everywhere": The title comes from Theocritus' Idyll 15.6, "Pantāi krēpides. In this fascinating chapter, Christiaan Caspers shows how Greek poets use common items like shoes to lead their readers to reflect upon the nature of poetry in works that appeal to the senses and to the readers' desires. He shows how the Odyssey provides the context for raising the simple word hypodēmata from its basic meaning of "things bound below" to things that prevent you from having to go barefoot because a patron gave them to you: agents of a "radical socio-economic elevation of the gift's recipient" (119). From Anacreon's erotic gaze at the poikilosambalos girl (fr. 358) to Herodas' sixth and seventh Mimes about the dildo-stitching, hard-bargaining shoemaker Kerdon, Caspers stresses the fact that the poets take a subject that is 'under the radar' and help readers create a new reality: one that transforms "the desire for material objects and objectives into the pursuit of truth" (126). He shows how poets forced their readers to use the lens of Plato's barefoot (and sometimes shod) Socrates to view later poetic appearances of barefoot and shod characters, such as the Cynic Sochares, whose shoes are part of a dedication to Aphrodite in Leonidas of Tarentum's epigram on that sham philosopher (AP 6.293) and Theocritus' Simichidas (Id. 7.24-26), an urban poet who wears the wrong kind of shoes on his trip to the country.

5. Sebastiano Molinelli's essay is a close examination of the sources dealing with Simon the Athenian cobbler, who may have been considered "Socrates' first philosophical interlocutor" by the 3rd century CE (140). After reviewing the excavations of the "house of Simon" in the Athenian Agora, Diogenes Laertius' mention of his Socratic-inspired dialogues, and the Letters of Socrates and the Socratics (c. 200 CE) — which show that later philosophers considered Simon "a model of Cynic self-sufficiency and freedom of speech" (137) — Molinelli concludes that Simon was probably a real person.

6. Susanna Phillippo offers an insightful interpretation of Orestes' appearances in Aeschylus' Libation Bearers. This piece fruitfully connects the text to vase paintings and terra cotta reliefs as it builds its argument that in the play's original production, Orestes removed his shoes upon approaching Agamemnon's tomb, leaving them visible during the first scene, and that when he re-appeared at the palace, he was shod. Phillippo's logic is irresistible and her arguments compelling.

7. Andrew Parkin convincingly argues that an oversize sculpture of a porphyry foot in the Great North Museum was originally a dedication to an Egyptian god. A post-antique re-fashioning has obscured its original ex-voto form: an unshod foot surmounted by a bust of Serapis, representations of which appear in Florence's Uffizi Gallery and on Roman imperial coins from Alexandria. Such objects were probably meant to "symbolize the presence of Serapis, as well as evoking the healing power of the deity" (188). Parkin concludes with the possibility "that the foot once adorned an Egyptian sanctuary somewhere in Italy" (188).

8. Amy C. Smith's "The left foot aryballos" considers foot vases from widespread archaeological contexts. Close inspection of 32 archaic network-sandal foot aryballoi leads her to conclude that a workshop in Euboea produced the vessels, contrary to the current communis opinio that they originate in "East Greece". On the basis of references in Aristotle and Hippocratic treatises, Smith speculates that these left feet might have been symbolic of movement and femininity. Perhaps the products of "a single craftsman," they seem to be "one of our earliest examples of mass production of fine wares" (206).

9. Sue Blundell's "One shoe off and one shoe on" is a welcome survey of monosandalism. Touching on ideas of journeys, brides, religion, myth, rites of passage, initiation, practicality, and the physis/nomos dichotomy, Blundell leans towards a ritual interpretation of monosandalism. The most delightful part of this chapter is the photograph of the author demonstrating monosandalism in some thick Devon mud (Figure 9.1), in an attempt to test Thucydides' statement that the fleeing Plataeans wore sandals only on their left feet, so as to have surer footing in the mud (Thucydides 3.22-24). Her conclusions about their escape and subsequent walk to Athens demonstrate Blundell's sharp insights into monosandalism's practical considerations.

10. Sadie Pickup's refreshing look at the late Hellenistic (c. 100 BCE) statue group from Delos in which the Aphrodite uses a sandal to threaten a sexually aggressive Pan is a 'must read' for those who see the sandal-slapping goddess as a humorous piece. Reminding the reader that this work was "the first large-scale work to replicate the gesture of the [Aphrodite] Knidia", and that it was a religious dedication to ancestral gods, Pickup warns against a frivolous reading of this work. Aphrodite's nudity, her adorment, and, above all, the sandal put her in a position of control, and Pickup concludes that the sandal "is an expression of Aphrodite's power, albeit very much within her sphere of sex and love, and to this end, also of marriage" (243).

11. Charlotte Chrétien offers a useful summary of both the imagery of Achilles wearing one sandal as he transitions from disguised girl to emerging Trojan War hero, and some details from Statius' Achilleid (which does not mention Achilles' single sandal). Chrétien points out that extant literature lacks any reference to this part of the Skyros story, but that the single shod foot of the images underlines the liminal states of Achilles, as he transitions from female to male, youth to adolescent, and finally to warrior. Her perceptive comments and sharp eye for detail make this a convincing piece.

12. Annika Backe-Dahmen's informative chapter on Roman children suggests that images of childhood monosandalism may refer to initiation into a mystery cult, that shoes offered in graves and represented on sarcophagi might "hint at what the child might have achieved" (275), and that children's footwear can indicate the social or religious status of the individual or the family. "Bridal shoes" in burial iconography indicate the "domestic female sphere" (274), for both girls and boys. Shoes in graves generally indicate the journey the deceased must take.

13. Eva Christof's essay on the footwear of the Antonine monument at Ephesus is a solid descriptive piece, with many useful comparanda, pointing out the similarities and differences between "real-world" shoe depictions and those belonging to the "mythical and unreal" (293). Shoes in the battle-scenes here serve to distinguish the participants, but the footwear does not establish the identities of the adversaries.

14. Alexandra T. Croom's fascinating discussion of Roman brooches forms a context for the description of a particular 'shoe' brooch from the Roman Fort at South Shields. The distribution of this popular type was mostly urban and they are often found in religious contexts. The difficult questions that Croom addresses concern the significance of the shoe design: Were they badges to show a cultic association? Amulets for protection in one's life journey? Helpers in the journey to the next life? 'Footprints' to remind the wearer another's absence? Or were they simply decorative? Due to the paucity of evidence, the author wisely leaves it to the reader to decide.

15. With the aim of gauging ancient knowledge of podiatry, Elizabeth M. Greene re-examines some of the 4,000-plus shoes from Vindolanda that were apparently modified "in order to mitigate the effects of gait" (310). She describes shoes with iron additions, leather modifications, and extra hobnails — alterations tailored to the needs of individual feet. In one intriguing case, a copper sheet was added to the insole of a shoe, perhaps, as Greene speculates, because copper was thought to have curative powers (as Pliny's Naturalis Historia makes clear). In discussing the importance of shoes in relation to foot care, Greene points out that Celsus mentions removing corns/callouses to reduce pain, but then she bemoans "the lack of attention to gait problems in our significant surviving medical writings from antiquity" (316). I have found, however, that the Hippocratic treatise De Articulis does include several sections devoted to gait problems (50-61), as well as a section about what we might call orthopedic shoes which can help to ameliorate clubfoot (62). While this prescription is not strictly "shoe modification" meant to cure an ailment, it does show how ancient doctors thought that therapeutic shoe use could help treat a pedal ailment and assist in re-establishing a regular gait.

All of these essays are informative, innovative, and competently done. Drawing upon the latest modern studies, and with preceptive use of ancient sources, these scholars offer numerous insights which invite their readers onto scholarly ground that has until recently been mostly untrodden.

Table of Contents

Introduction: Surveying shoes, slippers and sandals / Sadie Pickup and Sally Waite
1. Sandals on the wall: the symbolism of footwear on Athenian painted pottery / Sally Waite and Emma Gooch
2. At the symposium: Why take off our boots? The significance of boots placed underneath the kline on Attic red-figure vase painting (c. 500-440 BC) / Valérie Toillon
3. Donning Footwear: The invention and diffusion of an iconographic motif in archaic Athens / Yael Young
4. Pantāi krēpides: Shoe-talk from Homer to Herodas / Christiaan Caspers
5. Simon the Athenian: Archaeological, sociological and philosophical remarks on a philosopher shoemaker / Sebastiano Molinelli
6. Stepping onto the stage: Aeschylus' Oresteia and tragic footwear / Susanna Phillippo
7. A colossal porphyry foot in Newcastle / Andrew Parkin
8. The left foot aryballos wearing a network sandal / Amy C. Smith
9. One shoe off and one shoe on: The motif of monosandalism in Classical Greece / Sue Blundell
10. A slip and a slap: Aphrodite and her footwear / Sadie Pickup
11. Achilles' Discovery on Skyros: Status and Representation of the monosandalos in Roman Art / Charlotte Chrétien
12. Sandals for the living, sandals for the dead: Roman children and their footwear / Annika Backe-Dahmen
13. The footwear of the Antonine monument from Ephesus / Eva Christof
14. A 'shoe' brooch from the Roman Fort at South Shields / Alexandra T. Croom
15. Metal fittings on the Vindolanda shoes: Footwear and evidence for podiatric knowledge in the Roman world / Elizabeth M. Greene

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Notes:

1.   A few examples: Edmunds 1984 "Thucydides on Monosandalism"; van Driel-Murray 1987 Roman Footwear and 1993 "The Leatherwork"; Goette 1998 "Mulleus, Embas, Calceus"; Dunbabin 1990 "Ipsa deae vestigial"; Blundell 2002 "Clutching at Clothes" and 2006 "Beneath Their Shining Feet"; Haetjens 2002 "Ritual Shoes in Early Greek Female Graves"; Slavica 2005 "Lamps in the Form of a Foot"; Levine 2005 "ERATON BAMA ('Her Lovely Footstep')" and 2015 "Acts, Metaphors, and Powers of Feet in Aeschylus' Oresteia"; DeMello 2009 Feet and Footwear; Petridou 2009 "Artemidi to ichnos"; Cattani 2010 "Il monosandalos nell'arte"; Lebrun 2010 "Les dépôts de sandales dans les inhumations de Gaule romaine"; Sumler 2010 "A Catalogue of Shoes"; Lee 2012 "Dress and Adornment in Archaic and Classical Greece" and 2015 Body, Dress and Identity in Ancient Greece; Rothe 2013 "Whose Fashion?"; Bond 2014 "Follow Me: Courtesan Sandals, Shoemakers, and Ephemeral Epigraphic Landscapes"; Greene 2014 "If the Shoe Fits"; Young 2015, "Binding, Loosening, or Adjusting Her Sandal?"; Klinger 2018, "Terracotta Models of Sandaled Feet."

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Livia Capponi, Il ritorno della fenice: intellettuali e potere nell'Egitto romano. Studi e testi di storia antica, 23. Pisa: Edizioni ETS, 2017. Pp. 325. ISBN 9788846747914. €28,00 (pb).

Reviewed by Serena Perrone, Università di Genova​ (serena.perrone@unige.it)

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Anteprima e indice

Il volume di Livia Capponi propone un'analisi del ruolo degli intellettuali di provenienza egiziana come figure di mediazione tra potere politico e opinione pubblica nei primi secoli dell'impero romano. Il dialogo tra cultura greca, egiziana e potere romano nel contesto multietnico dell'Egitto viene indagato secondo una prospettiva "postcoloniale", individuando le multiformi "strategie di sopravvivenza" degli intellettuali greco-egiziani di fronte al nuovo regime.

Il lavoro è articolato in sette capitoli che si sviluppano secondo una struttura principalmente diacronica, a partire dall'età augustea (cap. 1) fino ad arrivare all'età severiana e all'affermazione del Cristianesimo (cap. 5), con i cap. 4 e 6 dedicati invece rispettivamente all'egittografia e al Museo e un ultimo capitolo di conclusioni.

Il capitolo 1 (29-61) esamina l'impatto della conquista romana e i cambiamenti nei rapporti tra la classe intellettuale e il potere rispetto al periodo tolemaico. Ne emerge che gli intellettuali non si opposero in genere al nuovo regime, ma anzi ne trassero mutui vantaggi, come nel caso di Asclepiade di Mende, che attraverso un uso propagandistico della teologia egiziana si pose come mediatore e "facilitatore" della legittimazione del nuovo sovrano. Dopo la diaspora di intellettuali da Alessandria nel periodo tardo tolemaico, sotto Augusto si registra una tendenza opposta a una mobilità verso la capitale egizia, in concomitanza con un rilancio del Museo e delle attività filologiche sul patrimonio culturale classico, che interessava ora un pubblico nuovo e più ampio. Ampio spazio nel primo capitolo è dedicato a quella che sembra essere l'unico esempio di intellettuale in aperto contrasto con il principato augusteo: Timagene di Alessandria. Capponi riesamina la discussa questione della temeraria urbanitas di Timagene, riaffermando la lettura antiromana, ellenocentrica e filobarbara di questa figura (in linea con Marta Sordi e distanziandosi dalla più recente bibliografia in merito).¹

Il secondo capitolo (63-117) analizza alcune figure di spicco del periodo giulio-claudio, in particolare Apione di Oasi, Cheremone di Alessandria e Tiberio Claudio Balbillo. Sullo sfondo delle tensioni tra Greci-Egiziani ed Ebrei, l'attività di questi intellettuali è descritta come all'insegna della competizione culturale e politica tra queste componenti etnico- religiose, spesso con l'intento apologetico di difendere a spese dell'avversario la propria cultura agli occhi degli imperatori. La grande diffusione dell'opera di Apione, utilizzata come fonte principale per l'Egitto da molti autori, tra i quali Plinio e Tacito, e il peso politico delle posizioni raggiunte dall'astrologo Tiberio Claudio Balbillo e dal sacerdote egiziano e filosofo stoico Cheremone sono indicativi della forte influenza esercitata dagli intellettuali egiziani. Altro interessante esempio di uso di modelli tolemaici ed elementi della religione egiziana al servizio dell'imperatore è il caso della divinizzazione di Poppea, celebrata nell'Apoteosi restituita da P.Oxy. 77.5105, un testo che secondo Capponi potrebbe essere stato composto come consolatio per Nerone, quindi tra il 66 e il 68, da Leonides di Alessandria.

L'evoluzione dei rapporti tra intellighenzia egiziana e potere imperiale in età flavia e antonina è oggetto del terzo capitolo (119-178), a partire dall'acclamazione di Vespasiano ad Alessandria. Particolarmente stretta la relazione di collaborazione tra imperatori flavi e classe sacerdotale egiziana, depositaria di un'antica sapienza mistica che poteva essere un utile strumento per il potere politico. Questo rapporto privilegiato è testimoniato anche dalla prosperità in quel periodo dei templi in stile tradizionale egiziano, dall'esecuzione di iscrizioni geroglifiche a scopi propagandistici e dalla notevole diffusione a Roma e in Italia del culto di Serapide e di Iside, almeno fino a Domiziano. Gli Acta Alexandrinorum sembrano invece rispecchiare un mutamento nelle dinamiche tra élite culturale greco-egiziana e potere centrale soprattutto sotto Traiano e Adriano, con una situazione di conflitti e processi. Capponi esamina tra gli altri gli Acta Athenodori, proponendo l'identificazione del protagonista con il filosofo epicureo Atenodoro di Atene, e gli Acta Maximi, che alluderebbero alla relazione tra Adriano e Antinoo. Entrambi farebbero riferimento a vicende intorno al 107/108, al momento della "congiura dei pedagoghi" e dell'ascesa al potere di Adriano. A una irriverente parodia di Traiano inscenata a teatro intorno al 117 si riferirebbe l'incidente del "re-mimo" degli Acta Pauli et Antonini, che viene connesso con l'"affare del teatro" cui si allude nella lettera dello studente di retorica ad Alessandria indirizzata al padre Teone (SB 22.15708). Anche per i protagonisti degli Acta Appiani vengono proposte identificazioni: il sacerdote Salvio Giuliano con il figlio dell'omonimo giurista; Eliodoro con il noto chirurgo. Il perdurare di un patriottismo nostalgico dell'aristocrazia greca di Alessandria, e più in generale dell'élite culturale dei greci-orientali, sembra trovare manifestazione anche nell'interesse storiografico per Alessandro Magno e la monarchia tolemaica (con riferimento in particolare all'opera di Appiano).

Il capitolo 4 (179-216) indaga l'egittografia di età imperiale, autori, forme e pubblico di questo tipo di opera a confronto con l'analoga produzione di età precedente, a partire da Erodoto. In epoca romana l'interesse per la storia egiziana, la religione e la sapienza sacerdotale, non è solo frutto di curiosità e fascinazione mistica, ma ha spesso finalità pragmatiche di propaganda o di informazione per il dominio. D'altra parte gli Egiziani potevano così comunicare e cercare di imporre il proprio punto di vista. Tra i più diffusi il genere dei mirabilia, soprattutto legati al Nilo e alle sue mitiche sorgenti, nonché le storie locali, che trovano particolare sviluppo in seguito al processo di municipalizzazione in età severiana.

Il capitolo 5 (217-245), intitolato "Metamorfosi dell'intellettuale", riprende il filo diacronico del cap. 3 proseguendo con l'età severiana, in un quadro storico mutato dalle riforme del III secolo, con la fioritura dei centri periferici dell'Egitto e del ceto buleutico e il declino del ginnasio e dell'aristocrazia ellenica. Le misure di Settimio Severo contro oracoli e divinazione e per la chiusura della tomba di Alessandro vengono lette non solo come punizione contro l'Egitto, ma anche come volontà di monopolizzare l'accesso alla sapienza esoterica egiziana e la imitatio Alexandri. Con la progressiva affermazione del cristianesimo, la cultura mistica egiziana viene letta e rielaborata in opposizione alla cultura razionalista greca. Si analizza in particolare la rilettura dell'opera di Cheremone operata da Clemente Alessandrino e poi da Porfirio attraverso Plotino, in relazione più specificamente alla continenza e all'ascetismo. D'altra parte Apione è riletto invece nelle Omelie dello Pseudo-Clemente come rappresentante della cultura greca e della sua vuota e perniciosa mitologia.

Il capitolo 6 (247-272) è una sorta di appendice (così è denominata più volte nella prima parte del libro) relativa al Museo e all'evoluzione di questa istituzione dai Tolomei ai Romani fino alla soglie dell'età bizantina. Il Museo conosce momenti di rinascita nei primi secoli dell'impero romano, in particolare sotto Claudio e Adriano, e lo stereotipo di una degenerazione dell'istituzione in età romana risulta immotivato. L'autrice rigetta l'idea di Naphtali Lewis di un declino intellettuale e di una progressiva burocratizzazione del Museo dopo la conquista romana,² anche sulla base di un riesame aggiornato e ampliato delle fonti letterarie, papirologiche ed epigrafiche sui componenti del Museo in età imperiale, in particolare sui presunti non-scholar members. Contro l'infondata dicotomia tra tecnici e intellettuali, così come quella tra atleti e intellettuali, si ribadisce la stretta correlazione tra meriti culturali e coinvolgimento in ruoli militari, tecnici e amministrativi.

Le conclusioni (273-282) evidenziano l'importanza e il peso degli intellettuali egiziani nel contesto globale romano, nonostante i duraturi pregiudizi antiegiziani. Poliedricità, capacità di adattamento alle nuove dinamiche, difesa competitiva della propria cultura, insieme al fatto di essere depositari di una sapienza esoterica dalle ampie potenzialità politiche, permisero a questi intellettuali di provincia di stabilire rapporti privilegiati con il potere, soprattutto con gli imperatori di origini straniere o non aristocratiche, e di influenzare in modo significativo l'opinione pubblica e la politica.

Completano il volume la bibliografia (283-313), apparentemente selettiva,³ un indice dei nomi (315-322) e otto pagine di tavole in bianco e nero.

Il lavoro di Livia Capponi offre un panorama ampio e ricco di spunti interessanti e ha il merito di valorizzare le fonti storiche e letterarie, papiracee ed epigrafiche, non limitatamente alla lingua greca e latina. A partire da questa molteplicità di fonti, spesso frammentarie e lacunose, l'indagine procede soprattutto come studio prosopografico di un consistente numero di figure. In diversi casi le identificazioni dei personaggi poggiano inevitabilmente su basi documentali piuttosto malferme. Ad esempio pare un po' azzardata l'ipotesi di una rapporto di parentela tra Apollonio Sofista e l'Apollonio dioiketes di Tolomeo II (p. 98), considerata anche l'altissima diffusione del nome. Fragile anche l'identificazione del Cheremone citato in P.Ryl. 2.144 con il noto intellettuale; più suggestivo invece il caso di P.Oxy. 27.2471 (p. 104ss.). In genere l'autrice specifica chiaramente il grado ipotetico delle sue argomentazioni, anche se a volte in fase di conclusioni le identificazioni incerte tendono a diventare dati acquisiti.

Su singoli aspetti il discorso non sempre risulta pienamente persuasivo. Ad esempio a p. 17 il passo di Ath. 184b-c citato come prova dell'attività didattica dei dotti del Museo di Alessandria riguarda in realtà le loro attività successive all'esilio da Alessandria; a p. 98 il rapporto tra Apollonio Sofista e Apione non è così ovviamente lineare come descritto;⁴ a p. 261 non pare sufficientemente sostanziata l'idea di aggiungere alla lista dei membri del Museo Efestione, insieme ad Apollonio Discolo ed Elio Erodiano. Le possibili riserve investono comunque dettagli specifici, mentre il quadro di insieme restituito è efficace e convincente e il volume risulterà di sicuro interesse non solo per chi si occupi di storia romana, ma anche per gli studi storico-letterari, la storiografia, la filologia antica e la papirologia.

La redazione del volume appare curata e pochi sono i refusi.⁵

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Notes:

1.   Marta Sordi, Timagene di Alessandria; uno storico ellenocentrico e filobarbaro, ANRW 2.30.1 (1982), 775-797. Per il più recente ridimensionamento dell'intento antiromano di Timagene vd. ad es. Federicomaria Muccioli, Timagene, un erudito tra Alessandria e Roma: nuove riflessioni, in: Virgilio Costa (ed.), Tradizione e trasmissione degli storici greci frammentari. 2, Tivoli 2013, 365-388.
2.   Cfr. diversi articoli raccolti in Naphtali Lewis, On Government and Law in Roman Egypt, ed. by Ann Ellis Hanson, Atlanta 1995.
3.   Non tutti i riferimenti citati in nota secondo il sistema di abbreviazione anglosassone trovano scioglimento nella bibliografia in fondo al volume. Ad es. mancano Bagnall 2007, citato a p. 26 n. 31 (Egypt in the Byzantine world, 300-700, ed. by Roger S. Bagnall, Cambridge 2007); Zadorojnyi 2005, citato a p. 32 n. 7 ("Stabbed with Large Pens": Trajectories of Literacy in Plutarch's Lives, in: Lukas de Blois et al. (eds.), The Statesman in Plutarch's Works, Leiden – Boston, vol. II 113-137); Hatzimichali 2013, citato a p. 39 n. 30 (Ashes to Ashes? The Library of Alexandria after 48 BC, in: Jason König et al. (eds.), Ancient Libraries, 167–182); Too 2010, citato a p. 39 n. 32 (The Idea of the Library in the Ancient World, Oxford).
4.   Cfr. Michael W. Haslam, The Homer Lexicon of Apollonius Sophista: I. Composition and Constituents, Classical Philology 89.1 (1994), 1-45. In generale meno completa risulta la bibliografia relativa alle attività grammaticali e filologiche di molte delle personalità oggetto di indagine. Ad esempio l'LGGA (ora Lexicon of Greek Grammarians of Antiquity, at referenceworks.brillonline.com), citato a p. 97 per Archibio, non è utilizzato per altre figure analizzate (es. Theon [1]; Chaeremon; Nicanor [3]; Hephaestion).
5.   P. 15 seconda riga: popolari => popolare; P. 26 undici righe dal fondo: cristiani Questa => cristiani. Questa; P. 50 ottava riga: alessandrino => alessandrini; P. 69 n. 16 ἱστορίαν κατ ἔθνος => ἱστορίαν κατ' ἔθνος; P. 86 ventesima riga: l'altri => l'altro; P. 95 n. 95: afferma che… ammettesse… potesse => ammetteva… poteva; P. 100 quinta riga: mancano virgolette chiuse dopo "affari"; P. 177 cinque righe dal fondo: gettano => gettano; P. 198 "in epoca romana di età imperiale, epoca in cui" ; P. 268 n. 91, a proposito di SPP 20.61, non è chiaro a cosa ci si riferisca con "P.Herm. 124 e 125"; P. 278 quinta riga: essere come meno colto => essere meno colto. ​

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Christoph Riedweg, Christoph Horn, Dietmar Wyrwa (ed.), Philosophie der Kaiserzeit und der Spätantike. Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie. Die Philosophie der Antike 5/3. Basel Schweiz: Schwabe Verlag, 2018. Pp. xxv, 750 (pp. 1859-2599). ISBN 9783796537004. €135,00. ISBN 9783796537189. ebook.

Reviewed by Lloyd P. Gerson, University of Toronto ((lloyd.gerson@utoronto.ca)

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The present volume is the last of eight in a series that was initiated in 1994. Die Philosophie der Antike is a successor to the original history of ancient philosophy conceived and executed by Friedrich Ueberweg as Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie vol. 1, the 12th edition of which appeared in 1926, under the editorial direction of Karl Praechter. The present revision consists of seven previous volumes and, now, the concluding one. These volumes are a worthy successor to Ueberweg's great work, renowned for its accuracy, comprehensiveness, and studious impartiality. The volumes in the new history are: Frühgriechische Philosophie 1/1-2 (2013), eds. Dieter Bremer, Hellmut Flashar, Georg Rechenauer; Sophistik. Sokrates. Sokratik. Mathematik. Medizin 2/1 (1998), eds. Hellmut Flashar, Klaus Döring, George B. Kerferd, Caroline Oser-Grote, Hans-Joachim Waschkies; Platon 2/2 (2007), by Michael Erler; Ältere Akademie. Aristoteles. Peripatos 3 (2004), eds. Hellmut Flashar, Leonid Zhmud, Hans-Joachim Krämer, Fritz Wehrli, George Wöhrle; Die hellenistische Philosophie 4 (1994), eds. Michael Erler, Hellmut Flashar, Günter Gawlick. Waldemar Görler, Peter Steinmetz; Philosophie der Kaiserzeit 5/1 (2018) and 5/2 (2018), eds. Christoph Riedweg, Christoph Horn, Dietmar Wyrwa; and the present volume 5/3 (2018). The total amount of material in the eight volumes is nearly 7,000 pages, with about 1,000 pages of that devoted to bibliography. The three volumes that comprise 5 (/1, /2, and /3) include 58 authors and run to some 2,600 pages.

The vast sweep of the material covered is unprecedented in a work on the history of ancient philosophy. In 5/1, there is a lengthy general introduction, setting forth the principles of selection, the particular philosophical characteristics of the period, the sources, and an all-important essay on the relation between Greek and Roman philosophy on the one hand, and Hellenistic Jewish and early Christian theology on the other. The authors, wisely in my view, have applied a capacious understanding of philosophy to the selection of material in the period in focus, arguing that contemporary categories do not accurately reflect the way philosophy was actually practiced or written about at that time. But a bit more of this below. I shall here focus on 5/3, with some references to the earlier works.

Parts 5/1 and 5/2 cover late Hellenistic philosophy from the 1st century BCE up until, roughly, Neoplatonism in the middle of the 4th century CE. The scope of these volumes is actually much wider than this indicates, since in addition to the canonical topics of Middle Platonism, Peripateticism, Neopythagoreanism, late Stoic, Epicurean, and Skeptical philosophy, it includes early Christian theology, Gnosticism, Hellenistic Judaism, Hermetic and Orphic literature, in both Greek and Latin. It is well known that philosophers such as Iamblichus, Hierocles of Alexandria, and Proclus, for example, not only appealed to "religious" literature in support of their philosophical positions, but that they found in this literature, properly interpreted, fresh insights. It is, therefore, of considerable value to have a clear exposition of this material.

Part 5/3 takes up at the end of the 4th century CE and goes well into the 7th century CE. Beginning with the Athenian Neoplatonist Plutarch of Athens and ending with Byzantine, Latin Christian, Rabbinical Judaic, and Syriac Christian authors. In the three volumes together, there are 198 sections, each focused on an individual topic or figure. 5/3 alone contains 5 lengthy chapters with a total of 53 sections. Each chapter concludes with its own extensive bibliography.

One might raise the question of whether the authors are too liberal in their understanding of ancient philosophy, judging especially by previous works, especially in English. Although some Christian and Jewish authors do typically make an appearance in histories of (late) ancient philosophy—Origen, Augustine, Boethius and Philo among a few others are obvious inclusions—this present volume goes far beyond the tentative selecting of philosophical nuggets. As the authors indicate in their introduction, the boundaries between philosophy, theology, the theory of religious practices, and literature are not so clearly fixed in antiquity. It is a modern prejudice to suppose that a divergence of principles or starting-points somehow precludes philosophical commensuration, as it were. It seems undeniable that, while the irreducibly historical orientation of the Abrahamic religions itself stands outside the essentially non-historical framework of philosophy, there were many Jews, Christians and, later, Muslims, who were conversant with ancient Greek "pagan" philosophy and who were substantial contributors to the ongoing thousand-year long conversation that occurred primarily around the Mediterranean basin. It should be added that we possess so little of the writings of the ancient Greek philosophers—about 10% by some rough calculations—that there is no need to press the point about the desirability of inclusiveness. It is understandable that this conclusion would be reached with some trepidation by some, looking especially at 7,000 large and dense pages of material in German. But once one gets over the humbling realization that ancient philosophy is actually a very big subject, one might find some comfort in knowing that all eight volumes, including the one under review, can now claim something that no earlier work can similarly do, that is, comprehensiveness. This work is doxography of the highest order.

The sections are clearly structured: life, works, then, where known, teachings or doctrines, and finally influences on later thinkers (Nachwirkung). A particularly welcome feature of these essays are the lavish bibliographical references, both to primary and secondary sources, intercalated with the text itself. They range from a half page to one-and-a-half pages for Heliodorus of Alexandria (5th century CE) and Hypatios of Ephesus (6th century CE), where only scraps of information about their lives and works are available, to 60 pages for Proclus, a concise monograph in itself. The brief chapter on Hypatios illustrates well the effective strategy that this volume follows. Hypatios was the bishop of Ephesus in the early part of the 6th century. He took the "orthodox" side in the Monophysite controversy carried out in and around the court of Justinian. Why is this of interest to historians of philosophy? Because Hypatios, who was probably a near contemporary of the author known as Dionysius the Areopagite, suspected that the latter's works were not, in fact, those of the disciple of Paul, but rather a Monophysite-leaning version of Proclean metaphysics. He thought this because he found no references to the self-named Dionysius' writings in earlier Christian authors. Dionysius was the most influential Greek Church Father in the West at least until his presumed status as a "founding" theologian was proven false by Lorenzo Valla in the middle of the 15th century. Thomas Aquinas was immensely impressed by Dionysius, even writing a commentary on one of his works, the deeply Platonic In Librum Beati Dionysii De Divinis Nominibus. It is, I think, profitable for historians of philosophy to focus on the way Christian theology, especially in its employment in a doctrinal controversy, is inserted within the purely philosophical tradition that goes back to Plato.

In addition to substantial essays on the obvious Neoplatonic philosophers, there is also a chapter on the so-called School of Gaza of the late 5th and early 6th century, whose most prominent members included Aeneas, Procopius, and Zacharias. Aeneas is of some interest to philosophers as a pagan student of the illustrious Hierocles of Alexandria who converted to Christianity but retained his Platonism, though he tailored it to what he understood the requirements of Christian theology to be. There is also a facet of this school in particular to be noted, namely, its adherence to the Hellenistic ideal of philosophy as a way of life, re-imagined in Gaza as monasticism. The notion of philosophy as bios is one major point of contact between Christianity and ancient Greek philosophy that is variously explored throughout all three volumes. There is also a concise but illuminating chapter on the anonymous Prolegomena to Plato's Philosophy, probably belonging to the middle of the 6th century CE and providing the last summary statement of how Neoplatonists read Plato, what they held to be his most important doctrines, why he wrote dialogues, and how his philosophy was superior to that of all the rival schools. In this work is recorded what came to be the standard reading order of the dialogues among Neoplatonists, probably going back to Iamblichus.

A further valuable feature of the work is that for major authors for whom we do in fact have some of their writings, the chapters give concise and accurate summaries of these works, some of which are quite obscure and not easily available in translation. For example, there is an exemplary and detailed 30 page account of the writings of Boethius, along with an even-handed exposition of the problems surrounding the relation of Boethius' philosophy and his Christian theology.

An unexpected (to me) nice addition to the book is a final chapter on philosophy in Syriac Christianity from the end of the 5th century CE to the Muslim conquest in 639. Centered around Edessa (present day Urfa in southeast Turkey), Syriac Christians, who had obviously been educated within a Hellenic environment, undertook the translation, especially of Aristotle, and especially of his logical works, for the edification of their brethren and for their own theological development. Prior to this time and place, it was mainly Plato who, among the ancient Hellenes, had been put to the service of Christianity. As is amply demonstrated in 5/2, after Alexander of Aphrodisias (late 2nd-early 3rd century CE), Peripatetic philosophy was mostly overwhelmed by Platonism. Although Platonists read and wrote about Aristotle—Plotinus made extensive use of Aristotelian distinctions and arguments and Iamblichus, for example, wrote a commentary on Aristotle's Metaphysics— Christians, especially in the east, made little use of him, until the rise of the Syriac churches coincident with the beginnings of Christianity. It is owing to the Syriac Christian philosophers that there existed translations of Aristotle which themselves were translated into Arabic after the Muslim conquest. And with Latin translations of Arabic translations of Syriac translations of Greek texts, Aristotle became available for appropriation in Scholastic philosophy.

The present reviewer is the editor of a work, The Cambridge History of Philosophy in Late Antiquity (2010), which covers very roughly the same ground as Die Philosophie der Antike 5/1-3, is only two volumes, and is about one half the number of pages in total. The Cambridge History was itself a successor to The Cambridge History of Late Greek and Early Medieval Philosophy (1967), edited by Hilary Armstrong, which is comprised of only one volume, and clocks in at a mere 711 pages. I would like to think that all three works can serve those with differing levels of interest in the period under discussion. I cannot imagine, though, any future work of this sort exceeding the present work according to the criteria set down and magnificently met first by Friedrich Ueberweg. But perhaps in a century or so from now, if some of the other 90% of lost material is recovered, another reconfiguring of the body of ancient philosophy will be in order.

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Paolo Orsi, Giuseppina Monterosso, Gioconda Lamagna (ed.), I taccuini, I: Riproduzione anastatica e trascrizione dei taccuini 1-4. Monumenti antichi, 75. Roma: Giorgio Bretschneider, 2018. Pp. xxxv, 118; 135 p. of plates. ISBN 9788876892998.

Reviewed by Maria Cecilia Parra, Università di Pisa (cecilia.parra@unipi.it)

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Il volume inaugura la serie dedicata alla pubblicazione integrale dei Taccuini di scavo di Paolo Orsi, acquistati dallo Stato italiano nel 1962 e consegnati nel 1964 al Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Siracusa..

Avviando il piano editoriale complessivo, che prevede l'edizione dei 150 Taccuini con riproduzione anastatica degli originali e trascrizione, il 75° volume dei MAL accoglie i primi quattro, relativi agli anni 1888-1889 (aprile 1888-primo semestre 1889).

Da tempo si attende di poter usufruire dell'intero corpus dei Taccuini orsiani: giusta dunque la scelta di rinunciare ad un'edizione commentata, che avrebbe dilatato i tempi, mettendo a rischio la fattibilità dell'impresa. L'onere del commento è affidato a chi utilizzerà questo e i successivi volumi del corpus per sviluppare nuove ricerche (cfr. p. VIII); solo utili «indici commentati» (p. XIII) sono anteposti alla trascrizione di ciascun Taccuino.

Nell'"Introduzione" (pp. IX-XVIII) Gioconda Lamagna ripercorre le lunghe vicende ereditarie dei Taccuini, ceduti in forma onerosa dagli eredi solo nel 1962(Paolo Orsi muore nel 1935).

Segue una dettagliata descrizione formale dei supporti — quadernetti tascabili di carta a quadretti, in cui l'archeologo roveretano registrò quasi ogni giorno appunti di varia natura, «dettagliati giornali di scavo, rapporti di sopralluogo, ispezioni a monumenti» (p. XIII) insieme a note personali e di vita quotidiana, secondo lo stile consono a un uomo introverso e tendente alla solitudine quale Orsi fu. Brevi le note sulla calligrafia e sugli strumenti scrittòrii, matita o china nera con cui sono vergati i testi e i disegni, non tutti di sua mano, perché spesso si riconoscono mani diverse di collaboratori, tra cui si distinguerà per abilità grafica quella di Rosario Carta (non ancora presente nei quattro Taccuini raccolti nel volume).

L'"Introduzione" continua con le sintesi dei contenuti dei quattro Taccuini oggetto del volume. Del contenuto del n. 1 (1888) — redatto principalmente a Firenze durante l'incarico ricoperto da Orsi alla Biblioteca Nazionale (1885-1888) e fitto di appunti bibliografici di vario tema — si mette giustamente in evidenza l'interesse per alcune «Urne dipinte di Creta» (Orsi, Taccuino n. 1, 35 a p. 14), collegandolo alla pubblicazione delle Antichità dell'antro di Zeus Ideo (1888) a firma congiunta con Federico Halbherr: significativamente Halbherr è presente in questo Taccuino in due foto, insieme ad Orsi stesso ed al maestro Domenico Comparetti, che aveva promosso quelle ricerche cretesi. Il Taccuino n. 1 documenta inoltre l'arrivo di Paolo Orsi, come Ispettore degli Scavi del Regno, al Museo Archeologico di Siracusa, dove la prima attenzione è rivolta a materiali epigrafici, elencati con corredo di accurati apografi.¹ Giusto rilievo è dato alla nota relativa a Megara Hyblaea (Orsi, Taccuino n. 1, 72 a p. 19), la prima dedicata da Orsi al sito che lo vedrà intensamente impegnato dall'anno successivo (1889).

Riguardo al Taccuino n. 2, che registra un'attività divenuta ormai totalmente siciliana, si fornisce un quadro sintetico ma esaustivo di tre mesi d'intenso impegno di Orsi sia nel Museo che nel territorio siracusano e ragusano: dove egli rivolge l'attenzione non solo a contesti preistorici più consoni alla sua formazione, ma anche a insediamenti coloniali greci (Akrai) e a siti paleocristiani, nonché a problemi come lo stato di conservazione dell'Annunciazione di Antonello da Messina. Megara Hyblaea, tuttavia, è il punto focale del manoscritto, come ben sottolinea Gioconda Lamagna: aggiungerei che quel momento, seppur di breve durata,² fu «il vero punto di partenza delle ricerche a Megara Hyblaea» (George Vallet, in BTCG, IX, s.v., p. 519).

I resoconti delle prime indagini nella colonia occupano la maggior parte delle pagine del Taccuino n. 3, in cui si trova anche «il preludio di una delle più memorabili imprese di Orsi in ambito 'preellenico'» (p. XVII), quella condotta a Pantalica negli anni successivi. E ancora Megara Hyblaea è protagonista nel Taccuino n. 4, che nel contempo accoglie appunti di vario genere e resoconti di attività di sopralluogo in altri siti, tra i quali si distinguono le necropoli preelleniche di Cassibile e di Cozzo del Pantano, segnali evidenti del legame ancora forte di Orsi con i suoi originari interessi di ricerca.

Concludono l'"Introduzione" alcuni cenni di sintesi (pp. XVII-XVIII), forse troppo brevi e generici per trattare della figura di 'Orsi archeologo' sotto gli aspetti molteplici che la caratterizzarono, a partire dal metodo, che è certo riduttivo definire «personalissimo» (p. XVII). Un metodo, come giustamente sottolineato, che comprende tra i suoi elementi essenziali anche quello della conservazione e dell'esposizione, che a Siracusa trovò espressione somma nel riordino del Museo Nazionale Archeologico — contenitore di collezioni, come di norma - secondo 'percorsi' topografici e cronologici.

Molto utile l'"Appendice" (pp. XIX-XXIV) che contiene «la trascrizione integrale delle pagine dell'Inventario della Soprintendenza alle Antichità di Siracusa con l'elenco dei taccuini acquisiti nel 1964» (p. XIX), con segnalazione in nota degli errori e delle definizioni approssimative di taluni contesti e di varie attività svolte da Orsi.

Giuseppina Monterosso (Sui Taccuini di Paolo Orsi: letture nel corso del tempo, pp. XXV-XXVIII) offre un buon contributo relativo alla «conoscenza nel corso del tempo» dei Taccuini di Paolo Orsi. L'A. traccia, con accurata bibliografia, un quadro soddisfacente dei lavori che in vario modo hanno utilizzato i manoscritti orsiani, sia in modo selettivo a completamento di proprie ricerche, sia presentando singoli contesti con sistematiche trascrizioni commentate che comunque «non esauriscono l'intera testimonianza dell'attività orsiana in quella località» (p. XXVII). Nella sintesi tracciata, giusto rilievo è dato ai contributi di Paola Pelagatti, profonda conoscitrice dei Taccuini di Orsi, a Siracusa dal 1961 con vari incarichi fino a quello di Soprintendente (fino al 1979). Assente dalla rassegna la citazione del contributo di Maria Teresa Iannelli relativo ai Taccuini nn. 86 e 88, contenenti i resoconti delle campagne di scavo del 1912 a Kaulonia (Monasterace Marina).³

A questi brevi saggi introduttivi fanno seguito le Parti I e II, che costituiscono il corpo del volume, occupandone rispettivamente le pp. 1-118 e 119-271.

Nella Parte I sono accolte le trascrizioni dei testi dei primi quattro Taccuini, all'inizio delle quali si premette ogni volta un utile sommario dei contenuti, suddiviso secondo la successione tematica presente nelle pagine originarie, indicate per ogni occorrenza. Motivi meramente editoriali, in particolare di formato pagina, hanno fatto rinunciare ad un impaginato di più agile consultazione, con corrispondenza diretta tra trascrizioni e riproduzioni delle pagine originali, che sono dunque tutte raccolte in successione nella Parte II. Le trascrizioni sono accurate, corrette e aderenti al manoscritto; non condivisibile è solo la scelta di non rispettare l'impaginato originario del singolo Taccuino.

Nella Parte II, ogni pagina accoglie due immagini, ciascuna con coppie di pagine di taccuino; la scelta di un tono cromatico a scala di grigi uniforme per tutte le riproduzioni non sempre risulta felice ai fini della lettura, facilitata invece dalla carta opaca.

Sarebbe stato utile indicare sistematicamente al lettore, fin dall'"Introduzione", almeno i riferimenti bibliografici esatti delle pubblicazioni relative alle prime indagini condotte in Sicilia — con rimandi ad ogni occorrenza nei quattro Taccuini -, non limitandosi a isolati riferimenti ed evitando così di delegare tutto alle "Abbreviazioni Bibliografiche" (pp. 273-274) o alla bibliografia citata nelle note del contributo di Giuseppina Monterosso.

Non resta, in conclusione, che plaudire alla pubblicazione di questo volume, che apre la strada a un'edizione sistematica dei Taccuini di Paolo Orsi, tanto attesa. Mi auguro che, grazie a una «dura disciplina» e ad un «lavoro tenace» di orsiana memoria,⁴ si possa apprezzare a breve la 'continuazione della storia' e poi anche la fine di questa coraggiosa impresa.

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Notes:

1.   L'incontro con il Direttore Francesco Saverio Cavallari e col personale del Museo è documentato solo da un secco elenco di nomi e relative retribuzioni (Orsi, Taccuino n. 1, 39 a p. 15): un segnale dei rapporti non distesi tra i due?
2.   Dopo le prime indagini (1889-1893) nella necropoli, nell'edificio a colonne e alle mura, Orsi abbandona Megara Hyblaea, dove riprenderà le indagini solo nel 1917 (cfr. G. Vallet, in BTCG, IX, s.v., p. 519).
3.   M.T. Iannelli, "Le campagne di scavo al tempio dorico di Caulonia attraverso i taccuini nn. 86 e 88 di Paolo Orsi e gli atti d'archivio della Soprintendenza ai Beni Archeologici della Calabria", in: Parra M.C. (ed.), Kaulonía, Caulonia, Stilida (e oltre). Contributi storici, archeologici e topografici, I (Quaderni ASNP, 11-12), Pisa 2001, pp. 163-218 (Taccuino 86: pp. 165-208, figg. 49-140; Taccuino 88: pp. 209-214, figg. 141-153). Il dossier dei Taccuini kauloniati pubblicato dalla Iannelli non è integrale (cfr. nota 3, p. 214).
4.   A proposito di queste emblematiche espressioni — di Umberto Zanotti Bianco e di Domenico Ridola — ed il relativo quadro di riferimento, vd. M. Paoletti, "Paolo Orsi: la "dura disciplina" e il "lavoro tenace" di un grande archeologo del Novecento", in Settis S. and Parra M. C. (eds.), Magna Graecia. Archeologia di un sapere. Catalogo della Mostra (Catanzaro, 19 giugno-31 ottobre 2005), Milano 2005, pp. 192-197.

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Matthew Wright, The Lost Plays of Greek Tragedy. Volume 2, Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides. London; New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2019. Pp. xi, 308. ISBN 9781474276474. £17.27 (pb).

Reviewed by Andrew Brown, Kent, UK (andrewlbrown5@gmail.com)

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Volume 1 of this work, which was not reviewed by BMCR, was published in 2016 and concerned the tragedians whom we are forbidden to call 'minor', discussing all the known pre-Hellenistic names and translating all their tragic (but not satyric) fragments. The new volume concerns the lost tragedies of the Big Three but operates at a higher level, since, as Wright says (p. 2), to have covered these plays in as much detail as vol. 1 'would have resulted in a book thousands of pages long'. Thus, while all the lost tragedies (but not satyr plays) are discussed in their TrGF sequence, the discussions are quite brief and only a few of the fragments (and not the longest) are translated. Some space is saved by Wright's lack of taste for reconstructing plots (p. 4) and Aeschylean tetralogies (p. 14), and some readers may find this a refreshing change from other work on this subject. However, the absence of satyr plays, while helping to focus the book on the qualities of tragedy as such, will be inconvenient for some purposes, as will the absence of unplaced fragments (meaning that the 'Dike Play' of Aeschylus is unmentioned).

The Introduction begins with some fighting talk (pp. 1-2): 'this material has usually been ignored or underplayed in the standard textbooks and accounts of literary history' and Wright's 'ultimate aim ... is to re-evaluate tragedy as a genre'. However, while the tragedians of vol. 1 can perhaps be fairly called 'neglected', at least from the viewpoint of non-experts, this is hardly true of the works considered in vol. 2. Almost all the significant fragments and testimonia for Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides can be found in English in Loeb Classical Texts and many also in Aris & Phillips editions. The fragments of Aeschylus and Sophocles are also available in Spanish (ed. J. M. Lucas de Dios, respectively 2008 and 1983), those of Euripides in French (Budé, ed. F. Jouan and H. van Looy, 1998-2003). There are many relevant articles, often more or less accessible to non-specialists, such as those in A. H. Sommerstein (ed.), Shards from Colonus (2003). Nor can the lost plays be said to be neglected in such 'standard textbooks' as Sommerstein's Aeschylean Tragedy (2nd edn. 2010) and J. Jouanna's Sophocle (2007). In fact Wright is well aware of this and refers to most of these books (though not those of Lucas de Dios and Jouanna), but they undermine his claim to originality.

Further, while the fragments and testimonia often contain hints of ideas and themes that look foreign to tragedy as we know it from surviving plays, these hints tend to be more frustrating than enlightening as they seldom tell us how these ideas and themes were treated. We have to accept, for instance, that there was somehow a Sophoclean tragedy about the meeting of Odysseus and Nausicaa (pp. 104-5), but its content and tone defy imagination. By the end of the Introduction (esp. p. 5), Wright has ruefully admitted as much. And in practice he can seldom be accused of pushing the evidence too hard; indeed he treats it with notable (and commendable) restraint. His remark that Aesch. Egyptians 'may or may not belong to the same tetralogy as Daughters of Danaus, Suppliant Women and the satyr-drama Amymone' (p. 17) is characteristic. The sad but inevitable consequence is that much of the book is taken up with telling us how little we know.

The book is written in a relaxed and readable style (though readers are expected to cope with difficilior lectio and 'catasterism'). The brevity of the entries means that anyone with a serious interest will still need to resort to the Loeb and A & P editions, and this is especially true of plays where the evidence is copious, such as Eur. Hypsipyle and Phaethon (pp. 202-5), since the entries do not lengthen in proportion. Still, the A & P volumes tend to be too scholarly and detailed for ready reference and even in the Loebs it can be difficult to see the wood for the trees, while Wright is good at bringing out 'any particularly significant or remarkable features of each lost play' (p. 4). This volume, then, while less valuable, I think, than vol. 1, will certainly have its uses.

In the tragedies that it treats, it is quite comprehensive. Poorly attested plays are generally given the benefit of the doubt (pp. 22-3, 80, 98). Wright includes Aesch. Prometheus Unbound (pp. 53-4) while making no commitment as to its authorship, but I was glad to see both Prom. Pyrkaeus and Prom. Pyrphoros identified with the satyr play of 472. He includes Soph. The Gathering of the Achaeans or Fellow-Diners despite an 'instinct' that it was probably a satyr play (pp. 84-5), but he assumes without question that Inachus was such (p. 153 n. 47) – a little surprisingly given his repeated insistence that 'we need to be very cautious when making judgements about what is or is not "tragic"' (p. 112). An Achilles by a Sophocles, whom West was inclined to identify as the Younger,¹ does not appear in either of Wright's volumes but there is little to say about it. Peirithous, Rhadamanthys, Sisyphus and Tennes are attributed to Critias (against Collard and Cropp), but with little conviction (vol. 1 p. 51). The authentic Rhesus of Euripides receives a mention (p. 138) but no entry.

Besides the entries on all the lost tragedies, the book contains a chapter on 'Unfamiliar Faces', tracing portrayals of Oedipus, Antigone and Medea across diverse plays, and one on 'Lost Tragedies in Performance'. The latter is the least satisfactory part of the book. Wright argues at some length (pp. 240-4) against Wilamowitz and Taplin (as he interprets them) for 'an open-ended, provisional approach' to questions of staging, then applies this to twelve topics in the lost plays. The results tend to be quite speculative, as he generally admits. It is true that some lost plays had unique or unusual features (the opening of Eur. Andromeda is a clear example) but if in these scanty remains we seem to keep finding scenic effects unparalleled in surviving tragedies, this must suggest that there is something wrong with the purported evidence or our interpretation of it. And on one topic, the silence of Aeschylus's Niobe, Wright is less cautious than usual and decidedly misleading (pp. 262-6). We have no reason to suppose that initially 'there were no spoken words and no music – only silence' (p. 264). He seems to have been taken in by his own translation of Ar. Frogs 914, 'And then the chorus would let rip ...', where 'then' is not in the Greek. If anything preceded the choral lyrics, it was no doubt choral anapaests; certainly not a silent theatre, which, as Wright himself remarks, would have left the audience uncertain whether the play had begun.

The bibliography is extensive, though I noted one or two curious omissions. There are useful asterisks against 'items which are likely to be of particular use to the beginner or non-specialist'.

Assorted quibbles and observations: The cover oddly depicts a plaque, inadequately captioned, which relates to a familiar scene in surviving tragedy. P. 13: for the avoidance of confusion and in line with Greek usage, could we please agree to restrict the word 'tetralogy' to a set of four plays connected in subject matter? Pp. 17-19: Women of Aetna may not be a correct translation of Αἰτναῖαι: see Sommerstein, Prometheus 36 (2010), 193. P. 17: we do not know that 'Aeschylus visited Sicily several times'. P. 62: for 'an hommage' read 'a homage'. P. 63: in Aesch. Psychagôgoi was a sacrifice really enacted on stage? I too once noted that F273a points to this but it is not easy to believe. P. 73: it was unhelpful to translate Soph. F10c without explaining the names Dryas and Salmoneus. Pp. 78-9: under Soph. Epigoni Wright could usefully have drawn attention to P.Oxy. 4807 since the fragment was unknown to Radt and Lloyd-Jones. Pp. 110, 193: 'benefited' is misspelt. Pp. 168-71: I was surprised to find no mention of Joan Breton Connelly, The Parthenon Enigma (2014), which discusses Eur. Erechtheus at length. Whatever we may think of Connelly's arguments,² the book has been well publicised, and we should acknowledge its existence. P. 174: it is odd that Hyginus should have regarded the myth of Ino as unfamiliar when Horace treats her as a stock character (AP 123). Pp. 193-4: under Eur. Palamedes Wright might have cited the hypothesis fragment from P.Mich. 3020(a), which adds a little to our knowledge.³ Pp. 194, 232: I am not confident that Daughters of Pelias was literally Euripides' first play, not just one of his first set. P. 212: no play is known to have made Phaedra 'brazenly promiscuous' rather than fixated (brazenly or not) on her stepson. Pp. 221-7: the survey of 'faces' of Antigone barely mentions Eur. Phoenician Women, Soph. Oedipus at Colonus and the transmitted ending of Aesch. Seven against Thebes (which was written by someone after all). P. 231: the attributes of the 'utterly different' Medea of Eur. Aegeus sound very much like those of the Medea of Medea. Pp. 233-5: Wright would like to believe in the Ur-Medea attested by a recent papyrus but reluctantly concurs with its editor in rejecting it.⁴ No doubt he is right to do so, but one must wonder about the origin of the two trimeters quoted by the anonymous author. P. 247, 'the multiple configurations of space in Women of Aetna ... must have been effected during act-dividing choral songs': maybe but this would make them unlike the scene changes which Wright has cited from Eumenides and Ajax, and we know of no other song during which a chorus drifts from place to place. Pp. 249-50: ἐπὶ δελφῖνος is an anapaestic metron, not a dimeter. Pp. 250-1: if the chorus of Aesch. Daughters of Nereus did enter riding dolphins, this would not make them theriomorphic. P. 268: an Apulian dish depicting Niobe and Andromeda is not evidence for 'intertextuality' in Euripides. P. 273: Prometheus Bound presents Io as a maiden with cow's horns, not as a cow. P. 286: Marie Delcourt's Oreste et Alcméon was published in 1959, not 1939.

If Wright does not quite achieve his aim 'to re-evaluate tragedy as a genre', that is the fault of the material; as he sternly reminds us (p. 237), 'our knowledge of every aspect of Greek tragedy is incomplete'. In his more modest aim 'to bring tragic fragments into the mainstream by making all the lost plays fully accessible' (p. 2) he is more successful, and for this the book can be warmly welcomed.

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Notes:

1.   See M. L. West, ZPE 126 (1999), 43-65.
2.   See F. Queyrel, BMCR 2014.09.14; M. Cropp, BMCR 2014.10.45.
3.   See W. Luppe, ZPE 176 (2011), 52-5.
4.   D. Colomo, Oxyrhynchus Papyri 76 (2011), 84-171, on P.Oxy. 5093.

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