Bryn Mawr Classical Review

À l'heure où l'on s'interroge (à tort ou à raison) sur les composantes de l'identité nationale française, on ne peut qu'être convaincu de l'actualité du thème choisi par Danièle et Yves Roman dans cet ouvrage paru en 2007 qui faisait presque figure de livre d'anticipation tant les sujets de recherche relatifs à l'identité sont en vogue depuis lors chez les antiquisants. Les auteurs n'en sont pas à leur coup d'essai puisqu'ils avaient déjà produit un opus intitulé Rome. L'identité romaine et la culture hellenistique (218-31 av. J.-C.), Paris 1995, dont les présents développements forment la suite logique. L'enquête menée ici est ambitieuse tout autant que vaste en raison du large champ chronologique retenu. Il s'est agi de traquer au sein d'une grande variété de sources (littéraires, poétiques, juridiques, archéologiques...) la multitude de paramètres qui définissent ou évoquent les linéaments de la ou plutôt des identités romaines et même pourrait-on dire parfois de l'identité de Rome tant il semble vrai, à la lecture de cet exposé, que l'identité romaine est, certes liée aux discours humains les plus divers qui la façonnent dans la durée, mais repose aussi fortement sur un territoire: celui de La ville qui demeure le socle urbain et le terroir culturel de la romanité. Le propos s'articule autour de deux parties d'une parfaite symétrie ou presque, aux intitulés explicites qui mettent en évidence la double spécificité du discours identitaire romain. Tantôt fondé sur la notion d'exclusion à l'époque républicaine, comme pour affirmer la suprématie de Rome sur les autres peuples, puis logiquement construit en concomitance avec l'idée de rassemblement à l'époque impériale, lorsqu'il fallut diffuser la romanité au sein des pays conquis.

Chapitre I. Dire l'excellence des Romains. Le discours identitaire d'un peuple

Si les Romains ont initialement accepté l'image négative que les Grecs avaient d'eux, ils ne tardèrent pas, tout en procédant à une acculturation ou plutôt à une hellénisation filtrée en matière religieuse, à réfuter l'idée qu'ils n'étaient que de simples barbares. Des protestations épidermiques du vieux Caton aux constructions théoriques de Cicéron, commence alors un long cheminement intellectuel visant dans un premier temps à intégrer les Romains au cercle des civilisés en substituant le concept d'humanitas, qui impliquait culture et civilisation, à la barbarie méprisable. La seconde étape sera de les déclarer supérieurs aux Grecs, d'abord par le biais d'un discours politique paradoxalement exacerbé par des Grecs philoromains comme Polybe ou encore Denys d'Halicarnasse, puis ensuite par l'évocation de fondements religieux. Si l'on peut trivialement affirmer que la domination de Rome sur les autres peuples de l'Antiquité reposait avant tout sur sa puissance militaire, les Romains trouvaient une raison majeure dans leur religion: Fides et Jupiter étaient les divinités à l'origine des conquêtes romaines. En somme, le succès politique, la puissance et l'hégémonie universelle de la cité dépendaient du respect des valeurs religieuses collectives. Le chapitre se prolonge sur un annexe méthodologique évoquant l'écueil du regard rétrospectif contemporain sur la Grèce antique et prévenant tout nationalisme culturel excessif au profit d'Athènes ou de Rome.

Chapitre II. Dire l'excellence des grands. Le discours identitaire de l'aristocratie

Le discours identitaire romain connaît des subdivisions intrinsèques, notamment celle qui entend légitimer l'oligarchie aristocratique dans sa prétention exclusive à gouverner la ville de Rome et les territoires conquis. Les outils utilisés dans l'élaboration de cette pensée élitiste furent divers: la position grecque stoïcienne de l'officium (devoir) a permis, combinée aux idéaux romains de libertas, fides, virtus et de (vir) bonus qui renvoient à l'excellence, de justifier la nécessaire action des grands dans les affaires publiques. À cela s'ajoute un élément ontologique: l'aristocrate romain est convaincu que sa naissance lui confère un pouvoir lui revenant sans discussion puisque les qualités se transmettent par le sang. Ce paramètre n'excluait pas des luttes intrinsèques féroces comme le suggérait l'aspect fort compétitif du cursus honorum menant idéalement à la censure ou au consulat. Les traditions ancestrales et les exempla maiorum formaient un ensemble immuable de normes sur lesquelles l'aristocratie devait calquer ses attitudes et réactions: le mos maiorum valait discours politique. Ce carcan servit de support à un propos d'exclusion polymorphe (politique, économique et social) afin d'écarter du pouvoir ceux qui n'étaient pas des nobles de premier rang. Il permit également de stigmatiser la plèbe, en particulier les individus affligés d'un lien de dépendance comme les travailleurs - car l'aristocrate romain était sans lien, à l'exclusion de ceux entretenus avec ses égaux dans le cadre de l'hospitalité ou de l'amicitia -, voire de discréditer un potentiel adversaire qui n'aurait pas respecté l'usage en vigueur au sein de l'aristocratie. Il s'est agi au fond de transposer la rhétorique grecque de l'altérité au sujet des peuples au coeur même de la société romaine pour y ciseler une sphère d'exclusion. L'annexe II rappelle que le caractère aristocratique du système romain aurait traditionnellement favorisé l'immobilisme au détriment du mouvement sur le plan politique.

Chapitre III. Dire l'excellence des mâles. Le discours identitaire du "premier sexe"

Après un rappel des thèses de M. Foucault sur l'émergence d'une "fidélité (conjugale) symétrique", trait que P. Veyne insèrera dans la dynamique historique du Haut-Empire romain en mettant en évidence pour cette période une forme d'"exaltation de la conjugalité" que reproduira plus tard la morale sexuelle chrétienne, les auteurs mettent l'accent sur un aspect sociétal fondamental du monde romain. Ce dernier était avant tout une communauté d'hommes, par nature inégalitaire, dont la notion proprement romaine de patria potestas permet de saisir toute la mesure. L'aristocrate romain se définissait par le refus de tout comportement féminin et de toute soumission; la femme symbolisait la légèreté (levitas), la passion tandis que l'homme représentait la vertu (virtus) et la rigueur (gravitas). Le mâle se devait d'échapper toujours à tout lien de dépendance, conformément à l'idéal de la libertas et surtout à tout comportement passif. Cet impératif a conduit les Romains au refus catégorique de l'homosexualité passive et par là au rejet instinctif de la pédérastie pédagogique grecque qui était considérée comme un vice attentatoire à la dignitas de l'homme libre voire à l'autorité du paterfamilias qu'elle venait concurrencer. La taxinomie romaine du "dur" et du "mou" haïssable et la manière dont étaient inventoriés les hommes, les aliments ou les pierres confirment combien l'univers de la Rome républicaine fut conçu autour d'une identité culturelle agressive fondée sur l'exclusif principe de masculinité. La prédominance mâle était logiquement très marquée dans les cadres institutionnel et juridique, au moins jusqu'au moment des sénatus-consultes Tertullien et Orphitien qui établirent une nouvelle organisation familiale opposée aux anciennes structures gentilices.¹ Ce changement sera parachevé avec la diffusion du christianisme qui provoquera un souci de soi garant d'une nouvelle morale du couple reposant sur la valorisation du mariage et des obligations qui en découlaient.²

Chapitre IV. L'originalité du discours romain sur le monde

De ce difficile dossier émerge à la fois une nette opposition mais aussi une évidente complémentarité entre les conceptions hellénistiques et romaines du monde connu. La remarquable carte grecque de l'oikouménè sera un outil fondamental de l'expansion impérialiste romaine. Elle sera aussi le support premier de la gestion patrimoniale des territoires conquis sous l'Empire opérée par le princeps Romanorum, et favorisée par l'oeuvre de Strabon. Celle-ci recèle des éléments récurrents d'ethnographie ou de chorographie - fort éloignés de la géographie pure qui consistait en une description générale de la terre - des richesses, des hommes et des moeurs, vraisemblablement destinés aux gouvernants romains pour leur permettre de tirer le meilleur profit des terres dominées. Si les Grecs ont toujours voulu contempler Le monde, les Romains l'ont en revanche envisagé de manière très pragmatique comme une étendue orthonormée au départ d'un point précis à partir duquel on calculait les distances en milles, pour penser un espace qui allait supporter une multitude de cités conçues sur l'exact modèle de Rome. Il convenait avant tout, non pas d'aboutir à une vision exhaustive, ouverte des régions et de leurs confins, mais d'étendre et de multiplier l'exemple de la Roma aeterna par l'intermédiaire de colonies dont le cadre urbain se fondait exactement sur le prototype de l'Urbs. La cité devenait donc le vecteur matériel d'une concorde et d'un rassemblement communautaire des hommes et femmes autour du premier des citoyens: l'empereur.

Chapitre V. L'originalité du discours romain sur les hommes du monde et les citoyens de Rome

Ces développements évoquent d'abord le double problème controversé de l'impact de la citoyenneté romaine sur l'histoire européenne et de l'existence d'une véritable originalité romaine en la matière eu égard aux conceptions hellénistiques. En l'occurrence, les fondements de la patrie romaine furent divers: la notion religieuse de maiestas populi Romani, engendrée par la fides, était sans doute la justification fondamentale de l'accroissement de Rome et de la supériorité du populus Romanus dans sa quête d'impérialisme. D'un point de vue concret, le census associé à d'autres usages électoraux non démocratiques caractérisaient précisément le métier de citoyen voire la participation aux affaires de la cité. La libertas, entendue dans un contexte aristocratique et hiérarchisé, venait définir le statut du civis et l'intégrer, à la différence des institutions grecques qui l'appréhendaient davantage dans son individualité, au sein d'une dimension collective: cela demeurait l'objet de la civitas. L'ouverture civique de Rome fut presque génétique: à l'inverse d'une entité autochtone repliée sur elle-même à l'image des cités grecques, la Rome des origines n'était qu'une simple ville italienne parmi d'autres -fondée de surcroît par un rituel étrusque- qui ne subsista qu'en raison de sa propension à l'accueil des étrangers. L'avènement de l'Empire s'accompagna de la création d'une seule catégorie de citoyens à laquelle tous les hommes libres finirent par s'intégrer, malgré les réticences initiales d'Auguste et bien après les efforts menés par Claude, par le biais du très fameux édit de Caracalla en 212 dont Saint Augustin n'avait pas manqué de remarquer en son temps le caractère extraordinaire. Il n'était toutefois pas question d'une égalité véritable comme l'induit la discrimination persistante entre les honestiores et les humiliores mise en place à l'époque des Antonins.

Chapitre VI. L'originalité du discours romain à la Ville et au monde sur l'excellence du Prince

Les empereurs ont assez tôt compris que leur domination passait par une ville modelée à leur image, ce qui permettait au passage de restructurer la mégalopole hors normes, riche de contrastes et de contradictions qu'était la cité romaine dont l'immensité commandait une gestion rigoureuse sur les plans urbain et politique. Auguste eut conscience des moyens à utiliser pour façonner au mieux l'espace de l'Urbs : évergétisme, contrôle de l'eau, construction d'un nouveau forum, du fameux mausolée destiné à l'imperator et à sa famille voire d'un immense cadran solaire pour marquer son emprise sur le temps. Cette oeuvre fut complétée par l'instauration du culte impérial qui favorisa l'unité, le rassemblement des Romains et de tous les hommes du monde sous l'égide du princeps. L'effort de modélisation urbaine qui s'interprète comme un véritable discours politique se poursuit lors des règnes postérieurs. Des outrances personnelles de Caligula et Néron, qui accapara le centre de Rome pour son seul usage en y érigeant un palais princier, à l'attitude plus pondérée de Domitien ou aux initiatives utilitaristes de Trajan qui fit ériger des termes de dix hectares à la place de la domus aurea. Les constructions voulues par Hadrien furent certes dédiées à sa gloire mais exaltèrent toujours Rome et non lui-même. Le règne de Marc-Aurèle marquera la fin d'une propagande urbaine qui voit l'acceptation définitive et assumée d'un monarque derrière lequel se rassemblent désormais la merveilleuse ville de Rome, symbole assumé de l'opulence, du pouvoir des Romains, et l'Empire.

La conclusion historique résume la thèse défendue: l'histoire de Rome résulte du passage d'un discours d'exclusion à une parole de rassemblement sous l'égide des empereurs, transition effectuée en concomitance avec l'évolution géopolitique allant d'une cité aristocratique à un empire. Une autre conclusion épistémologique insiste sur l'importance des sciences sociales en complément de la démarche historique, dont il faut préserver toute la rigueur méthodologique et chronologique, pour appréhender au mieux la "rhétorique de l'altérité" antique puis tenter, si possible, d'insérer le monde romain dans une typologie des sociétés humaines. À ce titre, l'accent est mis sur les infinies précautions à déployer pour fonder une démarche comparatiste efficace et sûre. Ces difficultés identifiées, il est pourtant dommage que D. et Y. Roman n'aient pas poussé plus loin le procédé pluridisciplinaire: il est vrai que des références pertinentes à M. Foucault, C. Lévi-Strauss, G. Balandier ou encore B. Cyrulnik, pour ne citer qu'eux, jalonnent le cours des différents récits et surtout des annexes. Mais il est presque décevant que les auteurs n'aient pas, sans doute par prudence scientifique, davantage encore ouvert leur travail sur la sociologie ou l'anthropologie car le sujet s'y prêtait admirablement, tant sur le plan global que dans ses subdivisions, notamment celle relative à la masculinité et au genre. Par ailleurs, ils affirment avec justesse et fermeté que, malgré ce que pourrait le laisser croire un large pan de la doctrine, l'"homme romain" n'existe pas et qu'il ne saurait être question d'un concept unifié. Il eût été souhaitable, en prolongeant cette idée, et même s'il est vrai que l'ouvrage traitait en substance de l'identité dite collective, de montrer que les institutions religieuses ou juridiques romaines pouvaient, sur le plan interne, autoriser un individu à transcender sa position sociale initiale. Par exemple, la fête des Saturnales mettait temporairement les esclaves et les hommes libres sur un pied d'égalité : les servi ne travaillaient pas et étaient admis à la table des maîtres ; la domus fonctionnait alors comme une "petite république". Par ailleurs, le droit romain classique permettait en certains cas au servus de dépasser son incapacité juridique et d'agir comme un homme libre.³ Enfin, quelques rares erreurs formelles ont résisté aux relectures.⁴ Il ne s'agit là que d'infimes détails ne nuisant en rien à la grande qualité de ce volume, lequel demeure un livre riche et stimulant à bien des égards qui offre une nouvelle lecture de l'histoire romaine tout en mettant l'accent sur certains problèmes de fond, comme celui des "ruptures" dans une société romaine que l'on a continûment considéré dans sa linéarité. Un livre important n'apporte pas que des réponses mais pose aussi les bonnes questions. Pour ces raisons, ce bel essai mérite assurément la récompense qui lui fut attribuée en 2008, à savoir la médaille d'argent du Prix François Millepierres décerné par l'Académie française.

1.   Certains éléments, comme l'abrogation de la Lex Oppia et le possible contournement de la Lex Voconia, plaident en faveur d'une indépendance économique de la femme. Il en est de même sur le plan strictement juridique avec la disparition progressive de la tutela mulieris, la facilité pour se libérer des liens de fiançailles ou du mariage, voire avec le développement du concubinat. Sur ces questions, voir J. F. Gerkens-R. Vigneron, The Emancipation of Women in Ancient Rome in RIDA, 47, 3ème série, 2000, p. 107-21.
2.   L'émancipation féminine semble toutefois contredite à cette époque par le fait qu'elle pouvait être "donnée" en mariage, d'après une disposition du CTh 3.5.5 qui n'évoque en rien le consentement de la future épouse.
3.  F. Reduzi Merola, 'L'esclave qui agit comme un homme libre : Servus vicarius emit mancipoque accepit puellam', dans V.I. Anastasiadis et P.N. Doukellis (éd.), Esclavage antique et discriminations socio-culturelles, Berne 2005, p. 315-19.
4.  Par exemple p. 317 ou p. 359, respectivement troisième et huitième ligne en partant du haut.

The name of Aëtius is linked to a compendium of physical opinions discovered and reconstructed by Hermann Diels in his Doxographi Graeci (Berlin 1879). Diels was able to show that a very complex doxographical tradition derives from a single work to be dated to the first century CE, which he attributed to an otherwise unknown person called Aëtius. Diels' reconstruction of this lost work provided the basis for his immensely influential collection of fragments, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker (Berlin 1903). Diels' discovery and reconstruction is currently being re-examined by Jaap Mansfeld and David Runia in a multi-volume editorial project entitled Aëtiana. The first volume of Aëtiana appeared in 1997.¹ That volume deals with the hypothesis that a number of later authors derived their doxographical information from a common source to be identified with a work composed in about 100 CE by Aëtius. The upshot is that the Aëtius-hypothesis is sound but is also in need of revision and refinement. This second volume carries forward the investigation begun in the first volume. It is divided into two parts. The first part consists of a structural analysis of the compendium, and the second offers a reconstruction of its best preserved section, namely book 2.

Microcontext and Macrostructure

Two aspects of the overall interpretation put forward in the second volume of Aëtiana strike me as especially important. First, Mansfeld and Runia argue that the compendium is not a loosely arranged collection of physical opinions, but rather that these opinions are carefully organized in order to emphasize the conflict of opinion existing among the ancient authorities. The compendium is divided into five books and subdivided into over 130 chapters. Each of these chapters deals with a specific question and offers an analysis of that question into a number of positions laid out by means of diaresis (division) and diaphonia (disagreement). Our authors argue that each individual chapter provides the microcontext in which these positions ought to be studied. In their words, "the standard chapter is not an aggregate, or a mere sample of tenets but a systematic whole containing implicit strategies of argument." (7) These strategies remain implicit because the techniques of presentation are never openly discussed in the compendium. Yet they are relentlessly applied so as to create the overall impression that ancient physics is done in a context of intense debate not only between different schools but also intramurally within those schools. Another interesting result generated by the application of this strong dialectical framework is that ancient physics is framed as a problem-oriented enterprise in which there is broad consensus on the scope and nature of physics and disagreement is confined to the solutions to be given to specific problems. Needless to say, this is an idealized reconstruction of ancient physics, if one that provides a powerful narrative context for the contents of the compendium. The latter turns out to be a systematic presentation of the conflicting solutions given to a number of problems presented in a definite sequence.

This last point leads to the second aspect of the overall interpretation advanced in the second volume of Aëtiana. Mansfeld and Runia devote much attention to the sequence of topics, their arrangement and division into five books, and much else that helps us to shed light on what they call the macrostructure of the compendium. To see what the authors have achieved here, it is worth recalling, briefly, the contents of the five books of the compendium. The first book deals with the principles and elements relevant to any physical theory. The second book is concerned with the cosmos as a whole and with the heavens. The third book is about meteorological phenomena. The most authoritative views on the soul are set out in the fourth book. Finally, the fifth book deals with dreams, procreation, embryology, sleep, growth, health, illness and old age. One structural aspect of this sequence is immediately obvious: general physics is followed by a detailed study of the different parts of the physical world, beginning with celestial physics, and continuing with sublunary physics in the following order: meteorology, psychology, and (mostly human) biology. This arrangement of topics belongs to a tradition that ultimately goes back to Aristotle. In the opening lines of the Meteorology, Aristotle sketches out an explanatory project divided into two parts: the study of nature in general, and the study of different parts of the natural world; and the latter further is articulated into the following sequence of topics: celestial physics, meteorology, and biology. Note, however, that while this Aristotelian structure is adopted, it is also updated with an infusion of Hellenistic materials. Our authors persuasively argue that this phenomenon is not limited to the choice of topics in the compendium but extends to the organization of physics into divisions and subdivisions which are adapted to the theoretical demands of Stoic physics. What emerges from their careful study of the sequence of topics treated in the compendium is a deliberate and sustained effort to integrate the Stoic physical theory into an Aristotelian framework. This is surprising only at first sight. Both Aristotle and the Stoics left largely systematic accounts of the physical world and a strong conceptual apparatus perfectly suited for a Post-Hellenistic handbook whose first and foremost ambition is to lay out in a systematic way the most notable opinions in the field of physics.

Specimen reconstructionis

The second volume of Aëtiana contains a textual reconstruction of the best preserved part of the compendium (the second book). In Doxographi graeci, Diels printed the two main sources for the compendium, Ps-Plutarch and Stobaeus, in parallel columns. At the bottom of these columns he printed passages from later authors who, in his view, contributed to the reconstruction of the compendium. He did not, however, print the texts of Ps-Plutarch and Stobaeus as they have been handed down to us by our best manuscripts. Diels was convinced that Ps-Plutarch was a more faithful witness to the original arrangement of the compendium, so he often altered the sequence of opinions in his 'Stobaeus' column on the basis of the information printed in his 'Ps-Plutarch' column. In so doing, Diels provided us with neither a reconstruction of the text of Aëtius nor an accurate reproduction of the texts of Ps-Plutarch and Stobaeus. In what they call specimen reconstructionis Mansfeld and Runia try to obviate the problems created by the tabular presentation chosen by Diels by producing a single column of text based on a fresh and thorough analysis of all the witnesses already identified by Diels as relevant to the reconstruction of the compendium (not only Ps-Plutarch and Stobaeus but also Theodoret and a few other authors). In their words, this column of text is "not a critical text but a Lesetext, based not on manuscripts of Aëtius' work but on independent witnesses which can offer only an imperfect guide to the original text" (658). Among other things, this means that the single column of text printed by Mansfeld and Runia at the end of the second volume is not intended to represent the actual words of Aëtius.

In their reconstruction, the second book consists of a table of contents (pinax), a short preface in which the author looks back to what he has accomplished in the first book and forward to the contents of the remaining four books, and over thirty chapters containing opinions ranging over a number of questions dealing with the cosmos as a whole (chapters 1-10), the heaven and the stars (chapters 11-19), the sun (chapters 20-24), the moon (chapters 25-31), plus a final chapter on the measurement of cosmic time (chapter 32). The voice of the author is heard in the opening lines of the book where the transition from general physics to special physics is clearly marked, but thereafter that voice remains silent. Instead the stage is entirely occupied by the presentation of contrasting views on a subject introduced by the heading of the chapter. This presentation is remarkably compact. It presents each view with what Mansfeld and Runia call a lemma, which consists of two elements, a name-label and a view on the subject that is announced in the chapter heading. The second book contains over two-hundred lemmata attached to (mostly but not exclusively) philosophical authorities. Our authors stress that the views are more important than the name-labels for the order and organization of the lemmata in a chapter. The interplay of the lemmata offers a systematic treatment of the subject announced in the chapter heading.

Interim Conclusion

The first volume of Aëtiana was a detailed study of the sources for Aëtius. In addition to a structural analysis of the compendium, the second volume offers a reconstruction of its best preserved part, the second book. A textual reconstruction of the remaining four books of the compendium is promised in the introduction to the second volume. A third volume, printed while this review was in preparation, contains a collection of nineteen articles published over the period of twenty years by our authors.²

It may be a while before all the projected volumes are in print. But we certainly do not have to wait for their publication to express admiration for this massive editorial project and to stress that a few very important results have already been secured with the publication of the first three volumes. To begin with, we now have a better understanding of the working methods of our sources for Aëtius, which will eventually lead to a reliable reconstruction of the entire compendium. We also have a vastly improved understanding of the methods used to organize the physical opinions presented in the compendium. Right at the beginning of the second volume, Mansfeld and Runia describe what they are doing as merely renovating and redecorating the structure built by Diels (8). This description emphasizes that our authors are building on what was accomplished by Diels, but it does not quite capture what is distinctive about their approach to the compendium. What is distinctive, and in fact new, is their attempt to look at the compendium as a systematic presentation of the whole of physical theory (as opposed to a mere compilation of physical opinions). The point is not to prove that the author of the compendium was a great writer, let alone an original philosopher. Rather, the goal is to take seriously the remark he makes at the outset of the compendium, namely that the goal of the compendium is "to hand down the argument of physics (physikos logos)." Mansfeld and Runia remind us that precisely because the compendium does not have literary or philosophical ambitions but rather aims at providing an introduction to ancient physics, it may give us valuable insights into how this discipline was understood at the end of the first century CE.

We tend to think of doxography as a naïve form of history of philosophy. Mansfeld and Runia succeed in showing us that the Aëtian compendium of physical doctrines is anything but a naïve collection of physical opinions.

1.   Mansfeld, J. and D. T. Runia, Aëtiana: the method and intellectual context of a doxographer. Volume 1: The Sources. Philosophia antiqua, 73. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 1997.
2.   Mansfeld, J. and D. T. Runia, Aëtiana: the method and intellectual context of a doxographer. Volume 3: Studies in the doxographical traditions of ancient philosophy. Philosophia antiqua, 118. Leiden; Boston: Brill, 2010.

[Table of Contents is listed at the end of the review.]

Porticos are rarely studied on their own; due to their flexibility they are ubiquitous in the Roman world and are often treated as architectural building blocks that require little special consideration. Likewise, provincial architectural studies seem to have lagged behind similar studies on art. Thus, Frakes's volume, which looks at public porticos in Roman Gaul, arguing for their importance in the urban fabric in the three provinces of Gallia Narbonensis, Lugdunensis and Aquitania, is a welcome contribution. The book is divided into six chapters, followed by a monumental catalogue (111-454), bibliography and three appendices.

In Chapter One, "Introduction: Scope and Methodology", Frakes sets forth the aim of the book which is to look at "Romanization" and acculturation of Roman Gaul through the lens of public colonnaded architecture (p. 1). He also outlines his typology for Gallo-Roman porticos, methodology and theoretical approach. The author is interested in how the experiences of the portico were "crucial components in the Roman acculturative process" (p. 3); he uses a Phenomenological model to study these porticos (pp. 12-15).¹ He also argues for treating the portico as a "form" or type of architecture in its own right. For this study he uses MacDonald's system of organization for street porticos (pp. 6-7)² and then sets forth his own typology (p. 9), identifying "five basic types"--the "plataea or plaza portico, the street portico [an unmodified version of MacDonald's typology], the facade portico, the stoa portico and the cavea portico".

In Chapter Two, "The Imagined Space of the Colonnade: Ancient Textual References," Frakes reviews selected passages on portico architecture from the ancient sources and organizes their treatment of porticos according to four themes: 1. Architectural practice 2. Public euergetism 3. Suspected vice 4. Knowledgeable display (p. 19). This chapter establishes that public porticos were important settings for many activities; that Roman authors often portrayed the public portico as having specific social or political meanings; and that the portico played a role in forming a Roman identity in the provinces. Although his study is not philological, a more detailed discussion of some of the terminology, such as porticus triplex, might have been useful, as many of these terms are contentious. The final section of this chapter focuses on the role of the portico in education and display of learning and the link between Greek philosophy and stoicism. Certainly this association between philosophy and stoa is well attested, but consideration of the libraries found in the Porticus Octaviae and in porticos on the Palatine (associated with the Temple of Apollo), aside from in a footnote (n. 152), might have yielded further insights specific to Rome. Other scholars have also interpreted the public Roman porticus (the Porticus Pompei or the Porticus Liviae, for example) as a type of museum;³ therefore, engagement with this idea might have also been enlightening.

In Chapter Four, "The Augustan Settlement of Gaul: the Ordering Role of the Portico", Frakes looks at the context of the porticos in Narbonensis and the capital of Lugdunensis, Lyon, to argue that there was a major urban transformation of Gaul under Augustus and that porticos played an integral part in this change. He first considers the porticos at Autun (Cat. No. 128-129), about which we have a 3rd century AD text. In this text Eumenius, the author, emphasizes how integral the porticos were for the reconstruction of Autun's urban framework and to the city's Roman identity in the 3rd century AD (pp. 41-45); this persuasive example demonstrates that by the High Empire the portico was a typical, if not essential, architectural form of the urban Gallic landscape. Frakes wants to see the Gauls as initiating these large urban projects rather than Roman authorities or individuals, but he provides little substantial evidence or argumentation for his view and observes that 60-100 of the Augustan porticos were built "in a land that formerly had very little experience with the architectural form" (p. 45). To bolster his case, he might have considered the few pre-Roman porticos known in Gaul, which are included in his catalogue, as way to argue that there was an interest in porticos and monumental architecture before the Romans arrived.⁴ Likewise a more detailed discussion of inscriptions in Gallic and Latin at certain sites could have supported his argument. Finally, as there are clear elements of Gallic character in much of provincial art from the region, one wonders whether any architectural elements could be cited as similar examples of a local variation on Roman architectural elements.

While the famous Forum of Nîmes and the porticos of Orange, which became a retirement city for the 2nd Legion Gallica, suggest a strong Roman presence in these cities rather than a local impetus for such architecture, other cities, such as Ruscino and Glanum, had fora whose forms were flexible adaptations of the Roman original. The urban form of these cities also saw the extensive use of the porticos and grids, which suggests a local population that actively engaged with Roman architectural forms and adapted them to suit their needs. Frakes then considers religious quadriporticus plazas that were not a part of fora; these are rarer and have less Roman iconography, again suggesting a local variation of this type of portico. Finally, his discussion of the forum and portico architecture of Lyon highlights how important porticos were to the capital of Gallia Lugdunensis.

In Chapter Four, "Representations of Columnar Space in Roman Gaul", Frakes looks at artistic representations of columnar space to argue for the idea that "portico architecture was, in Gaul, as transformative on the level of imagination as it was on the ground" (p. 67). Specifically, he considers artworks that depicted porticos alongside the remains of porticos from the city of Vienne. He cites several examples of vases and goblets that show columnar architecture, including the Aco globet by Chrysippus (named for the potter's mark on the vessel) (71; Fig 8) and a vase from Aoste (72; Fig. 9). He assumes that these vessels depict public porticos rather than private architecture, despite the fact that he observes that the goblet probably copies Roman wall paintings. He does not present any arguments in support of his interpretation. Frakes might have also considered whether the use of columnar architectural forms on ceramics is a local fusion of a Roman artistic tradition with the Gallic interest in pattern that is typical of metal work and other small objets d'art found in the North-West provinces.

Chapter Five, "Gallic Colonnades of the 1st and 2nd Centuries", expands his discussion both "geographically and chronologically" (79) to deal with Gallic street porticos from the three provinces during the Julio-Claudian, Flavian and High Empire periods. He considers the experience of these porticos, porticos in rural sanctuaries and, finally, the Gallic porticos of the 2nd century AD and their decline. The summary plates demonstrate that porticos were integral urban elements of many of these cities and that they were constructed throughout the Julio-Claudian era. While Frakes does not discuss the function of these porticos, he applies the phenomenological method to explore the experience of walking in these porticos and streets. The descriptions of experiences in some of the porticos are interesting and more of this type of analysis would have been welcome additions to the volume. The decline of the porticos, also well outlined, matches the decline of the Western Empire.

Throughout the whole volume, a more extensive discussion of the function of different porticos and the possible experiences of these porticos would have been beneficial. Likewise a larger discussion of how the materials used--wood, limestone, stucco, as well as the lack of marble and, in many cases, elaborate entablatures in the porticos--and inscriptions, especially the bilingual ones, would have been interesting and may have strengthened his arguments. However, the extensive catalogues of public porticos more than makes up for these shortcomings. The bulk of Frakes's effort clearly has gone into the catalogue (pp. 111-453); this section is outstanding. Frakes has gathered a tremendous amount of information and organized it logically and clearly. The descriptions are good, and the measurements included (including depth of the portico, column measurements, capital types, etc) are helpful for a scholar wanting to compare sites. He also gives the topographical context for the sites as well as the types of remains found in each portico. The plans are clear, easy to read and easily compared since Frakes tried to use the same scales where possible. Each site entry also contains a useful bibliography. The catalogue will be an important reference for scholars and students who want to study Gallo-Roman porticos, but also for those who are interested in Gallo-Roman urbanism, forum and sanctuary architecture. The appendices, which organize the material into alphabetical, metrological and chronological concordances (pp. 463-487), are also very helpful again allowing scholars to use the catalogue for a range of purposes.

The book is beautifully produced on lovely paper, and the images are very good, which explains the cost; however, the editing could have been better as there are numerous incorrect references in the text to catalogue entries in Chapters One and Five.

Typically, provincial studies are written in the modern language of that province, so such a publication in English may help to broaden the appeal of provincial studies and encourage more comparison of architecture throughout the empire. Thus, the book is noteworthy and important work for scholars who work on Roman public architecture and urbanism, especially those interested in the northwest provinces.

Table of Contents

1.   Some recent work that might have informed this discussion is not cited. See, for example Bergmann, B. (1994). "The Roman House as Memory Theater: The House of the Tragic Poet in Pompeii." ArtB, 76(2): 225-256; Clarke, J.R. (1991). The houses of Roman Italy, 100 B.C.-A.D. 250: Ritual, Space, and Decoration. Berkeley; Oxford: University of California Press; Kuttner, A. L. (2003). "Delight and Danger in the Roman Water Garden: Sperlonga and Tivoli." In Landscape Design and the Experience of Motion. Dumbarton Oaks Colloquium on the History of Landscape Architecture, 24. Edited by M. Conan, 103-156. Washington, D.C.: Dumbarton Oaks; Laurence, R. (1994). Roman Pompeii: Space and Society . London: Routledge; O'Sullivan, T. (2006). "The Mind in Motion: Walking and Metaphorical Travel in the Roman Villa." CP 101(2): 133-52; (2007) "Walking with Odysseus: The Portico Frame of the Odyssey Landscapes" AJP 128 (4): 497-532; Corbeill, A. (2002). "Political Movement: Walking and Ideology in Republican Rome." In The Roman Gaze: Vision, Power and the Body. Edited by D. Fredrick, 182-215. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press; (2004). Nature Embodied: Gesture in Ancient Rome. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
2.   MacDonald, W. (1986). The Architecture of the Roman Empire II: An Urban Appraisal. New Haven; London: Yale University Press.
3.   Kuttner, A. L. (1999). "Culture and History at Pompey's Museum." TAPA 129: 343-373; Macaulay-Lewis E. (2009), "Political Museums: Porticos, Gardens and the Public Display of Art in Ancient Rome," in S. Bracken, A. Gáldy and A. Turpin (eds), Collecting and Dynastic Ambition. Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 1-21.
4.   See Jefferson, V. "The Monumental Architecture of 'Hellenistic' France" in Quinn, J. and Prag, J. (eds) The Hellenistic West. Cambridge University Press, forthcoming.

Sabine Föllinger has already contributed to Aeschylean scholarship some interesting studies, the most relevant of which is the volume Genosdependenzen. Studien zur Arbeit am Mythos bei Aischylos;¹ she presents now her ideas to a broader public in the form of a general introduction to the poet's work followed by her interpretations of the seven plays, which, in the author's words, "sich... nicht unbedingt mit der communis opinio der Forschung decken" (p. 8).

The title of the book is thus explained in the introduction: "das 'Meisterhafte' an Aischylos Werk besteht in der Komplexität, die seine Darstellung menschlicher Problematik auszeichnet" (p.7). The author's emphasis on complexity corresponds to the critical approach outlined in ch. 1 and 3. Föllinger criticizes the widespread tendency to look at Aeschylus' dramas primarily as vehicles of a didactic message of religious, political or philosophical nature, that inevitably results in one-sided readings of the plays, unable to give us an adequate picture of the poet's theatrical art.² Looking back to the Aristotelic concept of tragedy as imitation of human actions, she sees the core of the plays in Aeschylus' inquiry about the causal factors that determine both the individual and the political actions of his characters, that is conducted not only in the individual dimension, but also by exploring the past of their families. This allows the creation of complex dramatic structures based on the relationships between different generations. In Föllinger's view, human actions are conceived by Aeschylus as the product of the interaction of individual motivations and "generationenübergreifende Kausalitäten", a process in which the latter are not to be seen, in Hesiodic or Solonic terms, as an inescapable burden of inherited guilt. They are rather represented as forces that cooperate to create the conditions in which men are bound to take their decisions, for which they remain in any case personally responsible. According to this perspective, Föllinger regards the skillful adaptation of pre-existing myths to this dramatic purpose (the 'Arbeit am Mythos' that inspired the title of her 2003 volume) as one of the most innovative features of Aeschylus' theatre.³ Politics, religion, moral and juridical ideas are obviously relevant to the whole, but they must be regarded only as a frame: they offer "die Parameter, innerhalb derer der Aischyleische Mensch handelt".

In ch. 1 Föllinger manages to pack a considerable amount of general information, offering a broad view of the historical and cultural context of Aeschylean drama. The necessary brevity does not affect the clarity and reliability of the whole, so that the chapter represents a good starting point for a beginner's encounter with Aeschylus. Two interesting paragraphs are devoted to female roles and to the violence on stage, that often involves women, both as passive and as active subjects. Ch. 2 contains only a (perhaps too) brief sketch of the transmission of the text.

Each of the five chapters (4-8) dedicated to the extant tragedies is organized in three sections: a summary of the content, an exposition of the main critical problems and the author's interpretation.

Föllinger sees the tragic core of the Persians (ch. 4) in the conflict between generations and in its relationship with the legitimation of Xerxes' power. The failure of the king is strongly contrasted not only with his father's deeds, but also with the whole series of Persian kings. This motivates the construction of an ad hoc royal genealogy and the 'hiding', as much as possible, of the memory of Marathon, a defeat that would have dangerously assimilated Darius to his son. The tragedy shows how a powerful king, in his desire to match his father's fame, is ruined by his own errors; these are presented as human and understandable so that they may arouse the audience's pity even for a barbarian character (I side here with Föllinger in believing that the opposition Greeks/barbarians in the play should not be pressed too far). The embedding of the tragic story of Xerxes the individual in the broader context of the war gives occasion to a double-level 'political' reading: the ruin of the king is a paradigm of the danger of giving to one man all the power without any form of control, given that his mistakes disastrously affect the whole community. On a more general level the tragedy highlights the danger of any political power, and probably recalled to the memory of the Athenians the fall of Themistocles.

Föllinger's analysis of the Seven against Thebes (ch. 5) brings to the foreground the conflict between "Kollektiv" and "Individuum". The central theme of the play is in fact identified in the confrontation between Eteocles' "auf die Familie konzentrierten aristokratischen Einzelkämpferethik" and "der polisorientierten Haltung der Frauen" (p. 84). Fö. offers some interesting observations on the poet's choice (unusual for a fifth-century tragedy) to present a female chorus that contrasts with the king by reminding him of the interests of the polis. Her treatment of the two brother's motivations aims to show how they share 'das egoistische Streben nach Ruhm und Ehre'; Eteocles' decision, in particular, is not dictated by his will to rescue the polis, but by an individual motivation that brings him to appropriate the curse of his father. Föllinger proposes a personal reading of the exodos of the drama, in which she again detects the presence of the conflict between the collective and the individual dimension: the decision of the king has in fact serious consequences not only for his family, but also for the city, which continues to be exposed to a great danger even after his death.

In ch. 6, dedicated to the Suppliants, Föllinger fittingly points out the leading role of Danaus, which has not been adequately appreciated by the interpreters of the play. She argues that he is the real promoter of the Danaids' flight and the controller of their attempt to obtain the help of the Argives. As for the origin of the refusal of the women to marry their cousins, Föllinger accepts the suggestion of M. Sicherl that an oracle predicted that Danaus would have been killed by one of his sons-in-law.⁴ This oracle is not mentioned in the play, but its absence might be explained as a part of the strategy adopted by the Danaids to persuade Pelasgus. The king repeatedly tries to sort out whether the Aegyptians have a legal right on the Danaids or not, but the women recur to evasive answers, remind him that their father has not consented to the marriage and insist on their kinship with the Argives (this last detail is a novelty introduced by Aeschylus's peculiar treatment of the story of Io; it also serves to give the Danaids a strong claim on the protection of their ancestor Zeus). The play presents a series of interacting oppositions: male vs. female, Argives vs. foreigners, monarchic government vs. democracy.

The most elaborate interpretation of the motivations of men's decisions is presented by Aeschylus in the Oresteia (ch. 7). Föllinger detects here a complex tissue of interwoven conflicts: 1) the feud between the brothers Atreus and Thyestes in the preceding generation; 2) father / daughter; 3) wife / husband; 4) mother / son; 5) mother / daughter; 6) generational conflict among gods; 7) political conflict between the chorus and the usurpers; and 8) a more general conflict between genders. She argues decisively against 'optimistic' readings that regard the end of the trilogy as a victory of a new rational order over the ancient conception of blood revenge, and radically reappraises the relevance of the latter and of ancestral curses in determining the decisions of the characters. In her opinion all the deaths in the trilogy are due to voluntary actions: no character is compelled to act by overwhelming external forces, nor is any automatic sanction applied to anyone man as a consequence of a curse; on the contrary, a public punishment is envisaged as an alternative to blood revenge in Ag. 1410-11 and 1616. The end of the trilogy does not bring a real "Lösung" of the conflict, since no character, humane or divine, is really able to control the events. Föllinger's analysis of the Eumenides points out the unfavourable presentation of Apollo and Athena, and on the whole the impossibility to extract from the play a political message in favour of or against the democratic government: the institution of the Areopagus is only the frame chosen by the poet to show the problems of the democratic decisional process, which is unable to cut the knot of the matricide. In the Agamemnon attention is paid to the reversal of male and female roles both in the individual and in the political dimension. Consistent with her criticisms against the 'theological' interpretation of Aeschylus, Föllinger refuses the tendency to read the Hymn to Zeus as the voice of the poet; it must be understood instead in the intra-dramatic dimension, as an attempt of the Elders to persuade themselves that the world is justly, though sternly, governed by Zeus.⁵ The second stasimon presents a complex picture of the interaction between "Genosdependenz" and individual freedom. The inherited guilt paves the way for a new guilt-producing action, but the connection with the past comes to light only when the decisive moment has come, and an individual decision is needed to give birth to a new hybris. In the Libation Bearers the familial conflict is developed by adding to the "Genosdependenz" an external determinant: the order of Apollo. Aeschylus' innovation consists in his attempt to explain Orestes' motivations within the frame of the religious and cultural context of fifth-century Athens. Religious issues are incorporated into a dramatic project that is centered on the problematization of the matricide. The familial dimension chosen by the poet for his story culminates in the dialogue between mother and son, where Orestes' identification with his father is so close that he blames his mother for the adultery, not for the murder.

Concerning the authenticity of Prometheus Bound (ch. 8) Föllinger does not go beyond a cautious non liquet (I believe she is right in thinking that the connection of Io's wanderings with Zeus and not with Hera, as in the Suppliants, should not be considered an argument against authenticity.) In this play she regards the generational conflict as a frame for the contrast between the stern power of the ruling god and the spiritual freedom of the Titan. Föllinger rejects the idea of a loosely connected 'episodic drama': the unifying element is to be found in the unbroken will of the protagonist. She also insists on the mythic innovations concerning Io, who shares with Prometheus the knowledge of a secret related to Zeus.

After a brief survey of Aeschylus' satyric dramas (ch. 9) and fragments (ch. 10), the book closes with a useful review of the fortune of his theatre from the fifth century B.C. to Christa Wolf's Kassandra, a field of research to which German scholarship has largely contributed in the last decades. Owing to the nature of the book, mainly addressed to German readers, it is understandable that the final bibliography includes German studies for the most part; it is nonetheless rich and well organized.

There is much that is sound in the way Föllinger approaches the decision-making process of Aeschylean characters, a subject that after some decades of lulled interest has recently attracted much scholarly attention.⁶ Many of her arguments are persuasive and she is often able to offer fresh insights on age-old questions, thus deepening our perception of Aeschylean theatre. Since a detailed discussion of her interpretations of each play would go beyond the scope of this review , I can offer here only a few observations. Not all the chapters are equally persuasive, in my opinion: for example, I appreciate the readings of Persians and Suppliants, but I am seriously perplexed about her interpretation of the ending of the Seven; there, Föllinger's attempt to extract from the text the opposition between "Individuum" and "Kollektiv" seems to be strained. Lines 825 ff., where the women ask whether they should rejoice for salvation or sing a song of mourning for the dead brothers, suggest that the future of the polis is no more a matter of concern for them, and even if those lines were interpolated, as Verrall thought, the familial dimension remains in any case largely prevalent in the final lament.⁷

On a more general level, Föllinger's defence of human autonomy and responsibility goes sometimes too far and results in a too restricted evaluation of the role of the external forces that exercise pressure on men. In the Persians, for example, the idea that Xerxes' ruin is understandable on the ground of his errors is not enough to cancel out the unresolved tension between the 'moral' perspective of Darius and the 'amoral' concept of the ἀπάτα θεοῦ, which creates a sense of fear for the unpredictability of human ruin. The latter view prevails in the final lament, which probably induced the spectators to reflect on their own difficulty to know what are the limits allowed for human prosperity (see now the discussion of A. Garvie, Aeschylus. Persae, Oxford 2009, xxii-xxxii). As for the Oresteia, I think Föllinger is right in highlighting the 'gray' elements that may be found in the Eumenides, while I find less satisfying her approach to blood revenge and other 'archaic' concepts. She claims that these ideas did not correspond to existing practices in fifth-century Athens; however, it cannot be denied that in many aspects of the religious and juridic life of the polis they existed side by side with new forms of thought. What matters at a dramatic level is that by introducing them as possible determinants of his character's actions Aeschylus was able to instill in the audience a sense of dread that was essential to his dramatic project. The overlapping and clashing of pre-juridical and juridical concepts opened a wide field for his readings of the old myths. This allowed him to cast light on the problematic and contradictory nature of reality, which he did not intend to soften nor explain. In my opinion, human suffering is bound to remain suspended between human responsibility and external compulsion.⁸

On the whole, Föllinger's book is a welcome addition to the literature on Aeschylus: it serves both as an up-to-date introduction to the author and as a spur to further reflect on his 'masterful' tragedies.

1.   Göttingen 2003. See also 'Fremde auf der Bühne des Aischylos,' in: Ch. Balme (Hrsg.), Das Theater der Anderen. Alterität und Theater zwischen Antike und Gegenwart (Mainzer Forschungen zu Drama und Theater 26), Tübingen 2001, 37-54; 'Väter und Töchter bei Aischylos,' in: Th. Baier (Hrsg.), Generationenkonflikte auf der Bühne. Perspektiven im antiken und mittelalterlichen Drama, Tübingen 2007, 11-22; 'Genealogie und Herrscherlegitimation in Aischylos' Persern,' in: Th. Baier (Hrsg.), Die Legitimation der Einzelherrschaft im Kontext der Generationenthematik, Berlin/New York 2008, 11-24.
2.   In an abridged version of the survey offered in Genosdependenzen, 34-48, Föllinger points out the feeble points of (a) the 'theological' approach, according to which Aeschylus aimed to communicate his religious vision of an ordered world justly, albeit sternly, governed by Zeus; (b) the 'political' approach, that looks at tragedy as an essential medium of public discourse whose main function was to give support to the new political order of the polis; and (c) readings that see in tragedy a document of the 'Geistesgeschichte' of the Greek people. She deals here only with the works of some influential German scholars: K. Reinhardt and Wilhelm Nestle for (a) (against this approach, recently revived by R. Bees, Aischylos. Interpretationen zum Verständnis seiner Theologie München 2009, Föllinger recalls the reaction of H. Lloyd-Jones' [in the well-known 1956 article 'Zeus in Aeschylus', now in Greek Epic, Lyric, and Tragedy. The Academic Papers of Sir Hugh Lloyd-Jones, Oxford 1990, 238-261] who challenged the attribution to Aeschylus of a deep philosophical thought; she feels more in tune with scholars that do not identify tout court the theological utterances of Aeschylean choruses as the 'voice of the poet', like R. Thiel and L. Käppel); Walter Nestle, W. Rösler, C. Meier for (b); and the well-known work of B. Snell for (c).
3.   Readers will find a more wide-ranging discussion of the complex connection between myth and literature in Genosdependenzen, 24ff: in the present study (pp. 24-26) Föllinger emphasizes again the active mythopoetic role of the dramatists.
4.   M. Sicherl, 'Die Tragik der Danaiden, Museum Helveticum 43, 1986, 81-110.
5.   On this point, Föllinger picks up the approach developed in R. Thiel's book Chor und tragische Handlung im 'Agamemnon' des Aeschylus', Stuttgart 1993, and also takes into account the ideas of L. Käppel, Die Konstruktion der Handlung der Orestie des Aischylos: die Makrostruktur des "Plot" als Sinnträger in der Darstellung des Geschlechterfluchs, München 1998.
6.   See my review of N. J. Sewell-Rutter, Guilt by Descent. Moral Inheritance and Decision Making in Greek Tragedy, Oxford 2007, BMCR 2008.10.24, a book apparently overlooked by Föllinger, though it could have contributed many interesting suggestions to her study.
7.   The translation of l. 842 (μέριμνα δ'ἀμφὶ πτόλιν) as "die Sorge um die Stadt aber bleibt" slightly strains the Greek ("bleibt" is not in the text), and μέριμνα is better understood as a reference to the grief that spreads over the city (see Hutchinson ad l.).
8.   As A. Sommerstein points out in his review of Genosdependenzen (Gnomon 77, 2005, 167-69), Föllinger's claim that a public punishment (exile or stoning) is presented as an alternative for blood revenge in the last scenes of Agamemnon does not take adequately into account the fact that the Elders have no force to oppose to the spearmen of Aegisthus.

[Table of contents is listed at the end of the review.]

[The reviewer apologizes for the delay in the submission of the review.]

For many, the study of the Republic -- or at least parts of it -- forms their introduction to Plato, if not to philosophy itself. . . . The Republic considers many of the central preoccupations of Western thought: justice, happiness and the good life; truth and the distinction between knowledge and opinion; the relation between physical and metaphysical realms; human psychology; the nature and purpose of education; the ideal form of government and the value of democracy; the place of philosophy in society; the definition and value of art, and so on. To adapt Samuel Johnson's phrase, when one is tired of the Republic, one is tired of philosophical reflection itself.

Given--as this long quotation from page 1 states--the importance of Plato's dialogue for the history of Western philosophy, it may be surprisingly that Sheppard feels the need to justify another introduction to Plato's Republic. But his aim seems to be quite different from that of previous guides to this work. Although he is aware of the difficulty in being completely impartial, Sheppard tries to offer his readers a truly introductory guide to the Republic, i. e., a guide whose author has made as few interpretative decisions as possible in order to encourage new readers to have a personal conversation with Plato's text. I should say from the beginning that, in my opinion, Sheppard fulfils his purpose very well.

As an introduction, this book clearly addresses readers new to philosophical classics and has consequently a very simple structure: it takes them through the text step-by-step. However, it could also be useful for 'continental' scholars who are not really working on Plato but must teach the Republic in their courses, as it provides a short but good overview of recent interpretations of the dialogue in English speaking areas.

In a first section (Introductory Questions, 1 - 18), Sheppard examines the following topics:

1) What is important about the Republic? Here Sheppard gives a brief résumé of interpretations which led, in the nineteenth century, to the understanding of the dialogue as a work of political philosophy.

2) Who is Plato? A short biography of the founder of the Academy.

3) Who is Socrates? A short biography of Plato's master.

4) Are the Historical Socrates and Plato's Socrates One and the Same?. Despite the title,¹ Sheppard deals here with the problem of a possible evolution within Plato's thought (from 'Socratic' to 'Platonic').

5) Why did Plato Write Dialogues?. Sheppard presents here briefly two main streams of Platonic scholarship, i. e., analytic and skeptical readings, whose methods he will sometimes use through his book.

The second and main section of the book (19 - 158) deals with the text itself. The dialogue is subdivided into its traditional four parts: a) Book I (19 - 43); b) Books II-IV (43 - 84); c) Books V-VII (84 - 125); d) Books VIII-X (125 - 158). As I already noted above, Sheppard's guide through the text has many merits: it is clear and simple, giving a thorough paraphrase of Plato's text and providing a good overview of different interpretations. And it is effectively designed to help philosophy students in engaging directly with Platonic topics (extremely interesting are the sections on Justice and the Soul, 57 - 72, the section on the Ideal State, 72 - 84, the section on the three analogies of the Sun, the Line and the Cave, 107 - 119). Therefore I will not discuss the second section thoroughly but mention some aspects that I found particularly interesting or problematic.

Definitively useful is, for example, that Sheppard ascribes a good deal of importance to the first scene in the dialogue (the so-called κατάβασις of Socrates) and offers a useful analysis of its historical and mythological context as well as an examination of the philosophical context (21 - 25). He also provides interesting parallels with modern times. Examples include: a) Glaucon's response to Socrates' description of the healthy city (50, Rsp. 327d-e) as a mirror of contemporary reactions to radical environmentalist visions of a post-capitalist society; b) Glaucon's statement about spectators (89, Rsp. 476d) as a mirror of modern exhibition-goers who spend no more than a minute in front of a painting.

Other such comparisons may be more problematic, as for example the comparison between Socrates' refusing to allow the guardians any wealth (Rsp. 416d) and Saint Paul's stress on the mutual exclusivity of love of money and love of god (59).

Sometimes, as he himself recognizes in his preface (vii), Sheppard could not remain on a descriptive level and advances his own interpretation: this happens explicitly three times and those cases should be briefly mentioned. The first of them concerns the overall interpretation of the dialogue: Sheppard does not explicitly argue that the traditional political reading of the work is completely mistaken, but it is clear that he is an advocate of the ethical interpretation of it.² I do not agree with him on this point, but Sheppard makes thorough use of the political interpretative approach and a discussion of this claim would transform the review into an academic quarrel, thus I will not argue this point.³

Secondly, Sheppard proposes his own interpretation of the philosopher's return to the cave (119 - 124). His first argument is persuasive: the philosopher returns to the cave because the knowledge of the Good leads him to grasp that only in this way he can fully realize himself as a human being. With his second argument Sheppard tries to substantiate the ethical interpretation of the dialogue and the impossibility of realization for Socrates' Kallipolis. Sheppard points out that the philosopher would not possess the rhetorical tricks of the political trade and therefore would not succeed in becoming a political guide. Although the problem cannot be solved within the dialogue itself, a solution could be found if the Republic is read as a step in a wider political project, whose conclusion is the Laws. In Plato's last dialogue, in which the philosopher seems to disappear, the topic of persuasion has a central role:⁴ one of the main problems of that dialogue is indeed, how the law-giver (who is--in some respects--the 'philosopher') could persuade the citizens that they should live virtuously.

Lastly, Sheppard agrees with Strauss and Bloom⁵ that the Republic, though its harsh criticism of democracy, is in fact a defense of it (136 - 140). It is undeniable, as Sara Monoson has demonstrated,⁶ that Plato was deeply tied to Athenian democracy and its political propaganda. Nevertheless, as for example Dominic Scott argues,⁷ the Republic is not a defense of democracy. On the contrary, I would say, it is Socrates' Kallipolis that becomes the new, true democracy (cp. 463A-D). In spite of academic disagreement, it is true--as Sheppard stresses (138)--that the "Straussian" reading of Plato's Republic usually does not find a place in first-reader guides to this dialogue. Therefore Sheppard's mention of it should be seen as a positive point.

The book is closed by a third Section (Study Aids, 159-163), which contains a glossary of Greek terms and a list of types of questions a student will encounter. A short bibliography directs the readers' attention to further readings.

Though a few critical remarks were made above, the opinion of Angela Hobbs on the back cover is absolutely justified: "This is an attractive and well thought-out guide which fills a definite gap in the market for first-time readers of the Republic".

1.   The reader would rather expect an explanation of the relationship between the historical Socrates and the reconstruction of his theories with the help of Xenophon's, Plato's and other authors' evidences. Compare for example: Boudouris, K.J. ed. [1991]: The Philosophy of Socrates. Athens; Montuori, M. ed. [1992]: The Socratic Problem. The History--The Solutions. From the 18th Century to the Present Time. 61 Extracts from 54 Authors in their Historical Context. Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben; Navia, L. E. [1993]: The Socratic Presence. A Study of the Sources. New York--London: Garland Publishing.
2.   See e.g. Annas, J. [1997]: "Politics and Ethics in Plato's Republic" in: Höffe, O. ed. [1997]: Platon. Politeia. Klassiker Auslegen Bd. 7. Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 141-160; Annas, J. [1999]: "The Inner City: Ethics without Politics in the Republic" in: Annas, J. [1999]: Platonic Ethics, Old and New. Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 72-95; Blössner, N. [2007]: "The City-Soul Analogy" in: Ferrari, G. R. F. ed. [2007]: The Cambridge Companion to Plato's Republic. Cambridge - New York: Cambridge University Press, 345 - 385.
3.   Persuasively arguing for a political reading of Plato's Republic are: Pradeau, J.-F. [2002]: Plato and the City. A New Introduction to Plato's Political Thought. Exeter: University of Exeter Press; Pradeau, J.F. [2005]: Platon, la démocratie et les democrats. Essay sur la réception contemporaine de la pensée politique platonicienne. Napoli : Bibliopolis ; Vegetti, M. [2009]: "Un paradigma in cielo". Platone politico da Aristotele al Novecento. Roma: Carocci; Zuolo, F. [2009]: Platone e l'efficacia. Realizzabilità della teoria normativa. Sankt Augustin: Academia Verlag.
4.   See on the topic the three very different approaches of Bobonic, C. [2002]: Plato's Utopia Recast. Oxford: Oxford University Press; Laks, A. [2000]: "The Laws" in: Rowe, C. - Schofield, M. eds. [2000]: The Cambridge History of Greek and Roman Political Thought. Cambridge - New York: Cambridge University Press, 258 - 292; and Brisson, L. [2000]: "Les préambules dans les Lois" in: Brisson, L. [2000]: Lectures de Platon. Paris: Vrin, 235 - 262.
5.   Strauss, L. [1964]: The City and the Man. Chicago: The Chicago University Press; Bloom, A. [1968]: The Republic of Plato. Translated with an interpretative essay.
6.   Monoson, S. [2000]: Plato's Democratic Entanglements. Athenian Politics and the Practice of Philosophy. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
7.   Scott, D. [2008]: "The Republic" in: Fine, G. ed. [2008]: The Oxford Handbook of Plato. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 360 - 382.

L'ultimo volume di R. Deryck Williams, The Aeneid, pubblicato postumo per la prima volta dalla collana Unwin Critical Library nel 1987, conosce ora una seconda ristampa curata dalla Bristol Classical Press.

Questa nuova edizione si differenzia dalla precedente per la presenza di una prefazione di J. Morwood del Wadham College di Oxford (pp. VII-XIII), nella quale viene da subito sottolineata l'importanza degli studi del Williams nel vasto panorama dei contributi critico-esegetici sull'Eneide. In particolare, sono menzionati alcuni suoi libri quasi tutti ristampati dalla Bristol Classical Press: le edizioni del III e del V dell'Eneide, uscite rispettivamente nel 1962 e nel 1960, l'edizione in due tomi dell'intero poema del 1972-1973, i volumi Virgil del 1967, Aeneas and the Roman Hero del 1973 e The Aeneid of Virgil: A Companion to the Translation of C. Day Lewis, pubblicato nel 1985 dalla stessa Bristol Classical Press.

Nel suo ultimo contributo Williams mostra ancora una volta, in una sintesi di straordinaria chiarezza, la sua profonda conoscenza del poema epico virgiliano: l'accessibilità del testo, nel quale le citazioni latine sono sempre tradotte, era un requisito riconosciuto già nella prefazione di C. Rawson alla prima edizione del volume, ma che forse costò ad esso una scarsa considerazione all'interno della comunità scientifica.

Ricordiamo che il libro è suddiviso in otto capitoli, ciascuno dedicato ad un argomento (Virgil's Life and Works; The Political and Literary Background of Virgil's Times; The Literary Sources of the Aeneid; The Composition of the Aeneid; The Main Themes of the Aeneid; The Characters of the Aeneid; Religion and the Gods; The Influence of the Aeneid) e si chiude con una Bibliography and brief critical survey e un Index.

Simpatizzante della 'Scuola di Harvard', che includeva virgilianisti del livello di Adam Parry e che leggeva nel poema una duplice voce di trionfo e di sofferenza, ma influenzato anche dalle interpretazioni più ottimistiche di Brooks Otis, Williams ha il merito di aver rivalutato la seconda esade dell'Eneide, come si evince pure dalle descrizioni delle scene di guerra presenti alle pagine 56-77 del libro.

Morwood si sofferma però anche su alcune lacune presenti nel volume, ascrivibili probabilmente al fatto che esso non si rivolgeva, negli intenti dell'autore, ad un pubblico accademico: l'assenza di dettagliate discussioni metriche e gli scarsi approfondimenti su alcune peculiarità dello stile virgiliano, quale, per esempio, la capacità del poeta di conferire iconicità alle descrizioni.

Altro limite di questo testo è probabilmente dovuto all'influsso delle tendenze del New Criticism: il prefatore segnala le differenze tra la lettura strettamente testuale dell'episodio di Eurialo e Niso operata dal Williams (p. 63) e quella più acuta condotta da Philip Hardie nella sua edizione del IX dell'Eneide (Cambridge 1994, p. 16), che risulta inevitabilmente arricchita e condizionata dai nuovi approcci della critica virgiliana di fine Novecento.

Un punto di forza di The Aeneid e degli studi virgiliani del Williams è ravvisato nella sua indagine riguardante la ricezione dell'Eneide e l'influsso esercitato dal poema latino sulla letteratura inglese: a tale argomento è dedicato l'ultimo capitolo del volume.

Alle pagine XII-XIII c'è una Nota bibliografica, nella quale sono enumerati i principali contributi sulla vita e gli studi di R. D. Williams ed è riportata una selezione di libri e articoli inglesi su Virgilio e l'Eneide prodotti a partire dal 1980.

In Rome's earliest phases no-one, not even the Romans themselves, could have predicted that the city on the Tiber, frequently struggling for its own survival, would rise to become a Mediterranean super-power. Ross Cowan charts this first phase of Roman warfare from the late sixth century BC until Rome's activities in the Greek south following the Pyrrhic war, ending in 265. This volume is the first in a series by Pen and Sword Press that covers the Roman empire from these uncertain beginnings to its farthest reaches.¹ Cowan rightly emphasises the importance of this first phase of Roman development, a phase too often obscured by the dazzle of Julius Caesar and the later Empire. While keeping the narrative moving along briskly, Cowan provides an overview of Rome's early wars in Italy with an emphasis on the means, both military and political, by which it came to dominate the peninsula. The book is generously illustrated with six maps and eight pages of plates. The maps provide a valuable accompaniment to the detailed accounts of warfare in the peninsula, enabling the reader to keep track of the action. Due to the fact that Rome frequently fought on multiple fronts, a certain amount of skipping back and forth in the narrative is inevitable; a timeline of major events might have been of assistance in making the relative chronology more accessible to the reader.

The period under consideration here is notoriously difficult to discuss due to the problems of source material, particularly the later Roman tendency, often noted by Cowan, to gloss over embarrassments and refigure defeats as 'draws'. This work, aimed primarily at the military history enthusiast, makes no claim to discuss the historiographic problems in detail. Still, a general statement of methodology and overview of the major writers would have helped to orient the reader unfamiliar with these issues. In the interests of readability, references have been kept to a minimum (four pages of endnotes). Even within those formatting restrictions, however, a greater number of references for the frequent citations of the ancient authors could have been provided without overly burdening the text. A more serious drawback lies in Cowan's inconsistent approach to the problems in the approach to source problems. For instance, he expresses caution about the glorious role attributed by Livy to the cavalry in the fighting against the Hernici in 362, noting the influence that aristocratic boasting has had on our tradition (p.20), yet later accepts Livy's account of the fighting against the Samnites in 322, which is similarly complimentary to the cavalry, on precisely the grounds that the noble families took care to preserve great tales of ancestral achievements (p.47). Other historical puzzles, such as the conflicting traditions surrounding the dictator M. Furius Camillus, receive very incomplete treatment (p.19). There are also some surprising omissions from the sparse, three-page bibliography. While selectivity is necessary, the absence of both A.N. Sherwin-White's landmark The Roman Citizenship and H. Mouritsen's more recent Italian Unification is striking, especially given Cowan's discussion of the importance of the civitas sine suffragio as a means by which Rome controlled its growing territory. The preceding criticism is not meant to deny Cowan's enthusiasm for his topic and easy familiarity with his sources. His expert knowledge of military equipment and tactics are evident and the detailed discussion of these which he provides will be of interest to many.²

The book is divided into an introduction and six chapters. The first, 'War Bands,' opens with the Gallic sack of 390 but ultimately covers the period from the occupation of Lars Porsenna to the conquest of Veii. Cowan's discussion of the importance of economics and geography to developments on the Latin plain provides balance to his discussion of Rome's military might. The second chapter, 'The Triumph of Roman Arms,' covers the period from 389 to 345 and is concerned with the ongoing conflicts between Rome and the Latins, Volsci, Etruscans and Gauls. As is appropriate for a work on Roman conquests, Cowan focuses his attention on these external conflicts and largely ignores Rome's domestic struggles, although he does make occasional references to important developments in Roman politics.

The third and fourth chapters, 'Warriors of the Sacred Spring' and 'The Great Samnite War' are, as their titles suggest, concerned with the first and second Samnite Wars and cover 354-329 and 327-305 respectively. Although lacking the partisan spirit of E.T. Salmon's treatment of these conflicts,³ Cowan's study nevertheless provides a lively account, picking out such dramatic moments as the immolation of Decius Mus and the execution of the younger Manlius Torquatus for breach of discipline (p. 35-6). He balances these episodes with detailed discussion of tactics and routes of armies and importantly acknowledges Rome's achievements in winning the peace as well as the wars.

Chapter Five, 'Tota Italia,' deals with the period between 304 and the 260s BC, with a focus on the Third Samnite War. Cowan provides a detailed a discussion of the tactics employed by Rome in this conflict, with close attention to Livy's account. He also gives careful attention to the role of religion in ancient warfare and takes the occasion of the devotio of P. Decius Mus (cos. 312, 308, 297) in 295 to describe this dark ritual. The final chapter, 'The Pyrrhic War,' occupies nearly one third of the book and breaks somewhat with the approach of the earlier chapters. Previously, Cowan has maintained a tight focus on Rome's wars of conquest and gave minimal attention to other developments. This chapter, however, contains an overview of the early life of the king, a whirlwind introduction to the struggles of the Diadochi, and a brief history of the cities of Greek southern Italy, especially Tarentum. When it comes to the war itself, we once again have a detailed discussion of the tactics and arms employed by both sides and the relative strengths of the Macedonian phalanx against the Roman maniple. While the narrative proper finishes with the triumph of M. Curius Dentatus in 274, Cowan devotes some closing remarks to Rome's consolidating activities in the South. The book ends with a description of the extent of Roman influence over the Italian peninsula by 265. While Cowan is perhaps premature in declaring that 'the conquest was complete', it is certainly fair to say that Rome's status in Italy was assured.

In tackling a period for which the source tradition is so problematic, Cowan has undertaken a difficult task. Adopting what is essentially the Livian narrative has provided the guiding thread for this work, which is also well served by Cowan's expertise in matters of military detail. Caution does need to be exercised, however, even (or especially) on pet topics. One of Cowan's particular interests appears to be Roman cognomina and his translations and accounts of the origins of these nicknames provide points of light relief among the battles. Unfortunately, Cowan then applies these translations inconsistently, for instance referring to C. Iunius Bubulcus the magister equitum of 310/309 as 'the Ploughman' and 'Iunius Bubulcus' while calling P. Decius Mus (cos. 308) both 'Decius Mus' and 'the Rat' all on the same page (p.62). This habit ultimately becomes confusing and distracting. The lack of context provided for Cowan's occasional remarks on domestic developments at Rome, such as the passage of the Licinian-Sextian laws (p. 19) and the aedilician prosecutions of grazers exploiting more than the legal limits of ager publicus in the 290s (p.77), seem doomed to confuse rather than enlighten the reader not already familiar with these events and their significance. The thinness of the discussion of the historical problems and sparseness of the references mean that this volume is likely to be of limited use to the serious student of early Rome. It nevertheless provides an accessible overview of the period and is packed with tidbits that are sure to please those with an interest in the detail of res militares.

1.   The series is to include works on Spain, Greece and Macedon, North Africa, Asia Minor and Syria, Gaul, Germany, Britain, The Danube Provinces, and The Eastern Frontier.
2.   Cowan's earlier publications include For the Glory of Rome (Pen & Sword, 2007); Roman Battle Tactics 109 BC - AD 313 (Osprey 2007) Imperial Roman Legionary AD 161 - 284 (Osprey 2003) and Roman Legionary 58 BC - AD 69 (Osprey 2003).
3.   E.T. Salmon's Samnium and the Samnites (Cambridge, 1967) was reviewed by M.W. Frederiksen as 'frankly and engagingly partisan' (JRS 58, 1968, 224).

Preview

Andrew Erskine is not new to the task of editing a Companion,¹ but the aims of the volume under review are somewhat different from those of his earlier achievement. In this preface, he states that this work "aims to provide a series of accessible introductions to key topics in the study of Ancient History ..", which it certainly accomplishes, while its second purpose, namely to "reflect the vitality and the excitement of scholarship at the front line" is only partially fulfilled.

The volume is arranged into eight thematic sections to which 49 authors contributed. These are for the most part well-known scholars who can write comfortably about both the Greek and Roman aspects of specific themes, which is indeed no easy task. Examples are E. Meyer with her introductory but rock solid chapter on law or Lisa Nevett on housing, although her pages read as if they had been too often revised. Other specialists in more technical fields, in particular Walter Scheidel on demography, contribute by sharing their unmatched expertise.

Forewords by five international scholars precede these sections and among them figures that of the late Peter Derow, one of the dedicatees of the volume, together with George Forrest. The editor asked them to offer their personal perspectives on ancient history, in other words to answer the question that we have all been asked at some point: why it matters. They articulate enviably reasonable motives for persisting in the pursuit of such studies. I like to think with McLynn that "ours is a discipline which to an unusual degree serves as a springboard rather than a straitjacket".² This is, however, a hot topic nowadays, and it does not hurt to remember that together with related themes the question of the significance and value of the study of ancient history was broached more than once at the 2010 American Philological Association meeting in Anaheim, California.

Part I of this volume is concerned with the different natures and with the use of the sources available to historians. Particularly useful are the chapters on historiography by John Marincola, on papyrology by Alan Bowman, and on oratory by Catherine Steel. By choosing representative themes or examples that clarify methodology and possible approaches, in addition to discussing the downsides of the evidence and the skills required to handle it, these authors well illustrate the making of history through a specific type of source. For example, Marincola talks about historiography by discussing a crucial theme, namely how change was perceived and processed by ancient writers of historical narratives, in other words, whether they wrote history as we understand it. This is certainly a more attractive method than the one adopted by Gregory Rowe who packs too much knowledge into too few pages. Although I cannot agree more with Rowe on the richness and possibilities that epigraphy offers, a crash course on regional epigraphies is unlikely to be useful to the reader of a Companion.

If a section of this volume was successful in the pursuit of the second goal listed in the preface, namely to transmit the vitality of the current research, that would be Part II. Here the authors discuss the different faces of and approaches to the discipline. For example, the chapter on myth in and as history by C. Dougherty shows the role mythology could play in historical narratives and what possible theoretical frameworks scholarship has created to make sense of it. The opening chapter by J.A. North deserves a note too. He sharply analyses problems and new directions by pointing out that in spite of the decreasing presence of the classics in the general cultural background, the field still lives and expands its own boundaries. More to the point is Morstein-Marx's piece, which does not allow us to forget that contemporary scholarship and its new approaches are based on and indebted to older ones. We are Mommsen's products, hopefully.

Scholars who contributed to Part III took upon themselves nothing less than the burden of summarizing the history of either peoples or places within a few pages. The approach to the task varies and, to my taste, Bohak's chapter on the Jews appears the most well-rounded, with its brief historical and social outline tuned to the persisting background questions of their remarkable survival skills and of their importance throughout history. Less helpful is Harrison's contribution on the Greeks. This essay moves along the lines of the query on identity that the reader finds already sketched in Herring's pages in Part II. By contrast, Witt on the Celts is puzzling. After reading her words, we definitely know that we do not know who they were, which is not a bad result per se, but we are left with little hope that the question is soluble, which is not as good. The geographic contributions, whether out of choice (Thonemann's contribution on Asia Minor), or necessity (Bruun on Rome), are written so that they leave the reader with a sana curiositas satisfied in the final paragraphs on further readings.

The fourth section deals, but curiously briefly, with religion. On the bright side, both contributions leave their mark by tackling key themes, first, ancient religion as seen through the cultural biases of modern eyes, and second, the emergence of Christianity. Parts V and VI also treat important themes that concern different aspects of ancient social life, death, or economy. I find, however, that these sections could have been incorporated into a single, shorter one. Clearly, economic news is on our minds, but I found myself gasping at the end of Part VI to which, for example, Rihll's chapter has little to add. Useful, by contrast, are Davies' and Witcher's contributions, since they provide a guide for understanding the past and current debate about ancient economies.

The last two sections of this Companion focus, respectively, on politics and power, and on the influence that the ancient world, and more specifically parts of its history, have had on the present. The contributions to Part VII deserve to be described with the adjective solid, since they offer the reader a good background in theoretical approaches (Beck and his definition of structures), and in more practical aspects of the ancient world (warfare by Rawlings). The last three articles of the collection pay their dues to the currently fashionable interdisciplinary approach. R. McKitterick presents a few examples of medieval responses to antiquity as represented by buildings or texts. Erskine reviews and comments intelligently on the self-serving ways in which Greece, Italy and much more recently the Republic of Macedonia have used the past to nationalistic ends. Finally, Llewellyn-Jones proposes an overview of the increasingly more popular subject of the Ancient World on the big screen by tackling the problems that such movies often pose for historians. Among other views, he cites that of Federico Fellini who suggested that historical accuracy should be an issue only if the director claimed it as one of his goals.

No Companion will elicit exclusively positive or negative responses. The nature of such volumes creates the conditions for all possible reactions, and this work is no different. Its attempt to provide introductory information is certainly successful, but I am not sure that this volume as a whole really displays the "vitality and excitement" for the discipline that its editor would have wished. Debates are sketched, references are given: enthusiasm for the subject still emanates from the individual. The quality of the presentation is high; maps, a timeline, and indices are provided and will be of help to new students of the discipline.

1.   A Companion to the Hellenistic World, Blackwell 2003.
2.   McLynn, "Personal Perspective", p. 8.