Bryn Mawr Classical Review

Tarik Wareh, The Theory and Practice of Life: Isocrates and the Philosophers. Hellenic studies, 54. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies, Trustees for Harvard University, 2012. Pp. viii, 236. ISBN 9780674067134. $24.95 (pb).

Reviewed by Christoph Eucken, Universität Bern (christoph.eucken@kps.unibe.ch)

Version at BMCR home site

Das Buch stellt den Anspruch, eine neue Sicht auf Isokrates und das Verhältnis von Philosophie und Rhetorik in seiner Zeit zu eröffnen. In einem ersten Teil (11-111) werden konzeptionelle Affinitäten von Isokrates, Platon und Aristoteles untersucht, in einem zweiten (113-195) die ‚Schulpolitik' der Schülergeneration; der Schluss (197-208) versammelt Zeugnisse der Renaissance, die Isokrates' Nachleben insbesondere als Autor des Fürstenspiegels beleuchten. Trotz der Behandlung vieler, zum Teil sehr spezieller Themen ist das Buch insgesamt auf die Gestalt des Isokrates zentriert. Neu ist die Sicht insbesondere dadurch, dass er in den Zusammenhang mit modernen theoretischen Fragestellungen gebracht wird. Zugrunde liegt das Modell Pierre Bourdieus vom ‚literarischen Feld' (4). Es hat gegenüber dem ‚politischen' eine gewisse Autonomie und verbindet die in ihm wirkenden und von ihm beeinflussten Akteure. Von Bourdieu angeregt ist wohl auch das Konzept einer ‚Theorie der Praxis'. Diese wird nicht nur für Philosophie und Rhetorik, sondern auch für weitere Wissenschaften und Künste, insbesondere die Medizin, als gemeinsames Thema und Problem des literarischen Feldes jener Zeit gesetzt (2; 55). Isokrates wird als ihr hervorragender Vertreter gedeutet.

Als ein Kernstück dieser ‚Praxistheorie' versteht Wareh die Auffassung des Isokrates, dass es kein ‚Wissen' (ἐπιστήμη) davon gibt, wie wir handeln sollen, und nur ‚Meinung' (δόξα) die jeweiligen καιροί annähernd treffen kann. Und er stellt die Lehre einer solchen grundsätzlichen Ungewissheit in unserem Handeln auch in der Nikomachischen Ethik des Aristoteles fest (13-54). Wareh ist nicht der Erste, der auf die Übereinstimmung hinweist und eine Beeinflussung durch den Redner erwägt.¹ Mit der hier gegebenen umfassenderen Thematik stellt sich aber auch die Frage, inwieweit die grundsätzliche Negierung der Theoretisierungsmöglichkeit von Entscheidungen bereits einen wesentlichen Teil der ‚Theorie der Praxis' bilden kann. Andererseits gerät in dieser Perspektive die besondere Konzeption des Isokrates aus dem Blick.

Er hat einen eigenen Doxa-Begriff entwickelt und ihn nicht, wie Wareh meint (14; 37), von Platon – auch noch mit der für jenen charakteristischen Bedeutung ‚Erscheinung' - übernommen. Doxa bezeichnet bei ihm in individueller Hinsicht das reflektierte, durch Erfahrung geschärfte Zielen auf die ‚Angemessenheiten' (καιροί) aus dem Wissen über dessen Grenzen in der Handlungsorientierung. Aus der Betrachtung fällt zudem die andere – kollektiv relevante – Seite des Begriffs: die geltenden Vorstellungen und Normen, die als Grundlage der Entscheidung dienen.² Das hat Bedeutung auch in Beziehung zu Aristoteles. Denn auch er gibt den bestehenden Meinungen – gegenüber Platon – großes Gewicht. Ein deutliches Zeichen dafür ist die frühe Topik mit ihrem Eingehen auf die ‚Endoxa'. Diese ganze Hälfte des Doxa-Problems bei Isokrates und Aristoteles erscheint bei Wareh nicht, wohl deshalb, weil sie nicht dem hier entworfenen Theoriebild entspricht.

‚Καιρός' kann mit Wareh nicht einheitlich bei allen Autoren als flüchtiger ‚Augenblick' (‚moment') verstanden und in dieser Allgemeinheit der ‚Praxistheorie' zugeordnet werden (15; 25). Bei Isokrates bedeutet der Begriff spezifisch in einem nicht temporär verengten Sinn sowohl die äußere Situation, die weite Zeiträume umspannen kann, wie auch im Zusammenhang mit ihr das werkinterne Gestaltungsprinzip.³

Auch hat er sich nicht in geistiger Annäherung an Platon dessen Philosophie-Begriff angeeignet (20); vielmehr beruht sein Verständnis auf einer älteren Tradition, in der der Ausdruck ein allgemeines ‚Bildungsstreben' bezeichnet.⁴ Dieses erachtet er als grundsätzlich in verschiedener Weise realisierbar und so hat der Begriff ‚Philosophie' bei ihm nicht nur einen anderen Sinn, sondern auch einen anderen Umfang als bei Platon.⁵

Wareh gibt keine Gesamtdarstellung von Isokrates' Bildungskonzept. Andererseits ist die Annahme der ‚Praxistheorie', mit der er ihn auszeichnet, für jene Zeit fragwürdig. Denn die Praktiken gehen aus oft weit divergierenden theoretischen Ansätzen hervor und sind dann nicht übertragbar. So kann ‚Performanz', von zentraler Bedeutung für die Theorievorstellung Warehs im Sinne des ‚Sprungs' in die Ungewissheit von Handeln und Leben (25;37-41;65-68), nicht eigentlich auf Isokrates' Lehre und Tätigkeit angewendet werden. Die sie bestimmende Ausrichtung auf die politische Wirklichkeit bleibt geistig distanziert, dem ‚Augenblick' und seinen direkten Anforderungen entzogen. Hingegen ist rednerische Performanz ein Gesichtspunkt im Programm des Alkidamas, der das erfolgreiche Auftreten vor Gericht und in der Volksversammlung als vordringliche Aufgabe sieht, und entsprechend ist dessen Verständnis des καιρός von dem des Isokrates unterschieden.⁶

In anderer Hinsicht Anlass zu Kritik gibt die Art, wie der Protreptikos des Aristoteles zu Isokrates in Beziehung gesetzt wird (41-54). Dass das Werk in Auseinandersetzung mit ihm entstanden ist, wird allgemein angenommen.⁷ Der Versuch Warehs, auch hier Gemeinsamkeiten in den Positionen festzustellen, ist dadurch beeinträchtigt, dass er sich vornehmlich auf die Rede an Demonikos stützt; die Frage ihrer Echtheit meint er vernachlässigen zu können, da sie jedenfalls ‚isokratisch' genug sei, z.B. als Werk aus seiner Schule (42, Anm.79). Aus der vermeintlich höheren Sicht einer Theorie des Feldes, das Bedeutung über den einzelnen Autor hinaus besitzt, scheint hier keine Genauigkeit nötig. Doch sie ist entscheidend. Dass die Rede nicht von Isokrates stammt, kann als erwiesen gelten;⁸ und dass sie für die Bestimmung seiner Grundauffassungen wichtig werden kann, zeigt sich in ihrer ausgiebigen Verwertung durch den Verfasser (42-46; 54). Weitgehend auf sie scheinen die unhaltbaren Feststellungen gegründet, Isokrates habe den Wert äußerer Güter verworfen und als ‚höchstes Gut' eine interessefreie Güte erkannt (24). So soll er in die philosophische Nähe des Aristoteles gerückt werden. Doch seine Position ist auch in dieser Hinsicht eigen. Die sittliche Bildung des Einzelnen (ἐπιμέλεια τῆς ψυχῆς) soll bei ihm in der Beschäftigung mit der in ihrem Grundbestand unabänderlich gegebenen Welt der Interessen, der πλεονεξία, erfolgen.⁹ Auf der anderen Seite ist der Anspruch Warehs nicht ernst zu nehmen, das Gesamtwerk des Aristoteles durch die Annäherung an die ‚Praxistheorie' des Isokrates aus neuem Gesichtswinkel zu zeigen (77) .

Die Doxa-Lehre des Isokrates ist auch darin komplex, dass sie den Erwerb eines festen Wissens von den Redeformen (ἰδέαι, εἴδη) in sich einschließt. Diese Formen müssen von der auf die καιροί zielenden Doxa jeweils neu gemischt und geordnet werden. In dieser Seite der isokratischen Methodik sieht Wareh Gemeinsamkeiten mit dem Rhetorik-Entwurf Platons im Phaidros, der ihm eine ‚Konzession an die praktischen Künste' der Rede und Medizin zu sein scheint (55-73). In den Hintergrund tritt dabei die fundamentale Verschiedenheit in den Theorien und den daraus resultierenden Formen der Praxis. Während Isokrates sich mit schriftlich abgefassten ‚Politischen Reden' (πολιτικοὶ λόγοι) an ein breites heterogenes Lesepublikum wendet, bestimmt Platon als wichtigste Aufgabe die mündliche Unterrichtung des Einzelnen in Philosophie. Das Lehrverfahren in der Akademie zur vorbildlichen ‚Rhetorik' zu stilisieren, ist keine Konzession an den Konkurrenten.

Die Beziehungen zwischen Platon, Aristoteles und Isokrates werden – mit dem Anspruch einer neuen Gesamtsicht – selektiv behandelt. Doch ist auch das Feld der damaligen Bildungslehrer nicht vollständig erfasst. Antisthenes mit seinem bedeutenden Einfluss auf die Bildungswelt hat hier keinen Platz. Schließlich ist der methodische Zugang beschränkt. Als Formen der Beziehung kommen für Wareh nur in Betracht einerseits Anerkennung bei Übereinstimmung und andererseits Polemik. Dabei scheint eine moderne Wissenschaftsvorstellung Modell zu stehen (190f). Dass es in jener Zeit bei den Bildungslehrern wie in anderen Bereichen einen Agon gibt, in dem die Teilnehmer weder einfach anerkennend noch bloß polemisch sind, sieht er nicht, auch nicht, wo dies in der Literatur thematisch geworden ist (110).¹⁰ Überhaupt ist sein Anspruch, gegen eine weithin in Vorurteilen und Dogmen befangene Forschung anzutreten, angesichts eines gerade in letzter Zeit wachsenden Interesses an Isokrates nicht berechtigt. ¹¹

Im zweiten Teil ist die Untersuchung der ‚Schulpolitik' der nachfolgenden Generation mit weiteren theoretischen Fragen verbunden. Das Bourdieu'sche Konzept des ‚literarischen Feldes' wird in zweifacher Weise, in der internen Bedeutung für die Akteure sowohl wie in seinem äußeren Verhältnis zum ‚politischen Feld', auf die Probe gestellt. Es ist reizvoll zu versuchen, die fragmentarisch überlieferten Autoren aus ihren polemischen Beziehungen genauer zu erfassen und an Beispielen die Wirkung der aufkommenden makedonischen Macht unter Philipp auf die Bildungswelt einzuschätzen. Unter den zahlreichen behandelten Gestalten, deren Kontur über das bisher Bekannte hinaus kaum deutlicher wird,¹² erfährt besondere Beachtung der Historiker Theopomp (123-132). Für die umstrittene Frage, ob er ein Schüler des Isokrates war, ergibt sich tatsächlich aus dem polemischen Feld eine Antwort. Die Art, wie Speusipp in seinem Brief an Philipp ihn in seine Invektive gegen Isokrates hineinbringt (§12), macht klar, dass er ihn als dessen Schüler glaubt hinstellen zu können. Dies Argument ist allerdings nicht neu.¹³ Wie weit er darüberhinaus in seinen nach vielen Seiten ausschlagenden Polemiken eine ‚Schulpolitik' betrieben hat, ist zweifelhaft. Sein Lob des Antisthenes (F 295), des großen Antipoden seines Lehrers, spricht nicht dafür.¹⁴ In der letztlich zentralen Gegenüberstellung von Isokrates' Philippos und Speusipps Brief an Philipp bringt der Verfasser verschiedene Gesichtspunkte zusammen: die Schulpolitik, die ins Spiel kommende politische Macht und den damit gegebenen Epochenwechsel (134-139; 154-165; 178-195). Die Überlegenheit des Isokrates in der Handhabung der Verhältnissse im Vergleich zu Speusipp tritt eindrücklich hervor. Wichtig für Wareh ist es, dass dabei für beide Seiten die schulische Perspektive gegenüber der rein politischen den Vorrang hat. Doch führt der Versuch, dass Bourdieu'sche Modell in dieser kritischen Konstellation zu bestätigen, in der Deutung des Philippos zu einer schematisch verfehlten Anwendung. Wareh möchte erweisen, dass Isokrates in dieser Schrift den König geradezu zu seinem Schüler macht, d.h. das literarische Feld dem politischen überlagert (154-159). Doch den König lehrt er nicht wie seine Schüler, er ‚rät' ihm (§ 16) und versucht dabei, dessen Meinung und die der zugleich angesprochenen griechischen Polis-Welt zur wechselseitigen Rücksicht aufeinander zu bewegen. Seine geistige Unabhängigkeit wäre anders zu beschreiben.

Das Verdienst des Buches ist es, den teilweise noch unerkannten Isokrates mit theoretisch interessanten Fragestellungen als eine für die Philosophen wichtige Erscheinung zu präsentieren. Das Problem liegt darin, dass mit einem im Einzelnen oft nicht soliden Verfahren eine zwar intellektuell anspruchsvolle und ansprechende, aber auch den Gegenstand verdeckende Überformung entsteht. Die Aufgabe, diesen Autor in seiner Eigenheit ans Licht zu bringen, bedürfte eines Zugangs, der weniger an der Präsentabilität einem heutigen Publikum gegenüber und stärker an der Sache orientiert wäre.

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Notes:

1.   Vgl. W.Steidle, „Redekunst und Bildung bei Isokrates", Hermes 80, 1952, in: H.-Th.Johann (Hg.), Erziehung und Bildung in der heidnischen und christlichen Antike, Darmstadt 1976, 204; A. Graeser, Die Philosophie der Antike 2, Sophistik und Sokratik, Plato und Aristoteles, 2.A., München 1993, 82f., der auch dabei die Doxa-Lehre des Isokrates in ihrer Eigenart kennzeichnet.
2.   Isoc. 13,8; 10,12; 2,41.
3.   M.Trédé, KAIROS, L'à-propos et l'occasion, Paris 1992, 260-282; J.Bons, Poietikon Pragma: Isocrates' Theory of Rhetorical Composition , Nijmegen 1996, 77-99.
4.   Her.1,30,2; Thuc.2,40,1.
5.   Isoc.2,51; ep. 5,3.
6.   Alcid.Soph.3;9;34.
7.   P.Von der Mühll, „Isokrates und der Protreptikos des Aristoteles", Philologus94, 1940, in: P.V.d.M., Kleine Schriften, Basel 1976, 325f.; I.Düring, Aristotle's Protrepticus. An Attempt at Reconstruction, Göteborg 1961, 33-35; H.Flashar, „Aristoteles", in: Die Philosophie der Antike 3: Ältere Akademie, Aristoteles, Peripatos, hg.H.F., 2.A., Basel 2004, 261.
8.   F. Blass,Die attische Beredsamkeit II, 2.A., Leipzig 1892, 278-284; F. Münscher, „Isokrates", RE 9, 1916, 2195-7; wichtig auch C.Wefelmeier, Die Sentenzensammlung der Demonicea, (Diss. Köln) Athen 1962; in den Ausgaben von Benseler/Blass, Drerup und Mathieu/Brémond wird die Rede als unecht behandelt, in den beiden letzten mit ausführlicher Begründung; danach auch in der Ausgabe von K.A.Worp/A.Rijksbaron, The Kellis Isocrates Codex, Oxford 1997. Soweit sie als echt präsentiert wird, geschieht dies ohne Berücksichtigung der Gegenargumente wie in der Loeb-Ausgabe von Norlin und in der Übersetzung von D.Mirhady/Y.L.Too, Isocrates I, Austin 2000, hier sogar mit der ignoranten Behauptung, der Konsens über die Echtheit sei ‚überwältigend'(19).
9.   Isoc.3,1f.; 15,275. 281-4.
10.   C.Eucken, Isokrates. Seine Positionen in der Auseinandersetzung mit den zeitgenössischen Philosophen, Berlin 1983, 142-161; 286f. und passim.
11.   Vgl. W.Orth (Hg.), Isokrates. Neue Ansätze zur Bewertung eines politischen Schriftstellers, Trier 2003; E.V.Haskins, Logos and Power in Isocrates and Aristotle, Columbia SC 2004; T.Poulakos/D.Depew, Isocrates and Civic Education, Austin 2004, und die zur Zeit entstehende reiche Kommentarliteratur zu den einzelnen Reden. – Dass Wareh die Rolle der ἐπιστήμη bei Isokrates aus der ‚Dunkelheit' hebt, in der sie bisher gelegen habe (59; vgl.37), trifft nicht zu; vgl. z.B. die klare Darlegung bei Bons, Poietikon Pragma, 26-36; 80f, mit der wichtigen Unterscheidung von technischem und allgemeinem Wissen bei Isokrates (30), die der Verfasser nicht kennt.
12.   Vgl. J.Engels, „Antike Überlieferungen über die Schüler des Isokrates", in: Orth, Isokrates, 175-194 mit weiterer Literatur; K.Trampedach, Platon, die Akademie und die zeitgenössische Politik, Stuttgart 1994.
13.   A.F.Natoli, The Letter of Speusippus to Philip II, Stuttgart 2004, 55f.
14.   M.A.Flower, Theopompus of Chios, Oxford 1994, 59; 94-97.

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Richard P. H. Greenfield (trans.), Niketas Stethatos: The Life of Saint Symeon the New Theologian. Dumbarton Oaks Medieval Library, 20. Cambridge, MA; London: Harvard University Press, 2013. Pp. xxv, 422. ISBN 9780674057982. $29.95.

Reviewed by Andrew Louth, Durham University, UK (louth.andrew@gmail.com)

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Saint Symeon the New Theologian became well known only in the last century. That he is known at all is due to the labours of Niketas, a monk of the Stoudios Monastery, who towards the end of his life became its superior. It was in 1052, seventeen years after St Symeon's reminding Niketas, in a dream, of his neglected promise to compose a Life, that Symeon was recognized as a saint and his relics translated to the capital. It seems to have been a pyrrhic victory: Symeon's star soon declined, and his works were little read. Even the renewed interest in Symeon during the hesychast controversy in the fourteenth century seems to have been inspired by a rare copy of Niketas' Life, rather than any profound knowledge of the saint's own works.

There is more to Niketas than his role in the cult of St Symeon, though that role was not simply as a propagandist for Symeon's understanding of monasticism and the Christian life. It has often been remarked that Niketas' Life presents a more Studite picture of Symeon than is likely to have been the case. That was probably not only a sensible tactic in promoting such a controversial, indeed tiresome, figure as Symeon the New Theologian; it reflects Niketas' own monastic commitment, for he seems to have been, all his life, a monk of the Monastery of Stoudios. Niketas' connexion with Symeon, however, as has again often been remarked, cannot have been very great: if Symeon died in 1022, as is generally agreed, Niketas can have known him for no more than a few years. Nevertheless, it was to Niketas, the young monk who had copied the rough drafts of the Saint's writings, that Symeon entrusted the task of composing his life, though the fact that it needed a post mortem visitation a dozen or so years later to spur him into action maybe suggests no great enthusiasm on Niketas' part!

As a monk of the Stoudios monastery, Niketas had continued the traditions of that monastery, not least in noisy criticism of the Emperor Constantine IX Monomachos' publicly keeping a mistress, for which he earned the epithet, stethatos, 'stout-hearted'. As well as being the biographer of Symeon the New Theologian, he was like him a spiritual writer of some note. He also engaged in polemic: against Keroularios, who had objected to the monk-deacons (hierodeacons) of the Stoudios wearing liturgical belts; against the Jews, as well as the Armenians; and against the Latins (though Cardinal Humbert claimed that he was won over by the Latins and became a good friend: a likely story, one might think). In the Philokalia of St Makarios of Corinth and St Nikodimos of the Holy Mountain (published 1782), there are included three 'centuries' by Niketas—collections of a hundred chapters, a popular monastic genre—on the spiritual life. The fact that they were included in the Philokalia presumably indicates some tradition of reading him on the Holy Mountain (in contrast, the writings of St Symeon included in that anthology are slight and/or spurious). Some more works were discovered in the last century and published. They include the polemical works referred to above, some letters, a short treatise on that ever-popular topic in Byzantine philosophy, on the terms of life —περὶ ὅρων ζωῆς—and a trilogy consisting of On the Soul, On Paradise, and On the Hierarchies.

There is more, then, to Niketas than his involvement with St Symeon, but nonetheless it was that association that was to prove most important. It was due to him that the Saint's works were published, and maybe due to Niketas that Symeon was canonized at all: the Life seems to have been part of the canonization process. This Life was first published in a critical edition by Irénée Hausherr, with a French translation by Gabriel Horn, in 1928. In 1994, the Greek scholar, Symeon Koutsas, produced another critical edition with a modern Greek translation. Neither of these is easy of access, so, for this reason alone, this new translation, with a facing Greek text, by Professor Greenfield welcome. There are further reasons to welcome this publication: the translation is excellent; the text, based on Hausherr and Koutsas, combines the virtues of both; the introduction and notes are both concise and informative. Professor Greenfield is well abreast of the available literature on both Niketas and Symeon, though he makes no use that I could find of the valuable account of Symeon's life and theology by Alexander Golitzin (to be found, rather oddly, in volume 3 of his translation of the Ethical Discourses, listed by Greenfield in his bibliography).

It has become the tradition to play down the significance of Niketas' Life, on the grounds that Niketas hardly knew Symeon, seems keen to increase his own stock by exaggerating his association with the Saint, and tends to assimilate Symeon to the tradition of the Stoudios Monastery to which Niketas was so strongly attached (though Symeon's formative years had been spent in the Stoudios Monastery, too). Instead, we have been encouraged to base our understanding of the life of the Saint on his own treatises. Professor Greenfield quietly points out that Niketas was not just the biographer of St Symeon, but his editor: any access we have to the saint has been fingered by Niketas. It is a point that needs to be heeded.

Greenfield's notes are brief and helpful, particularly over the precise meaning of the Greek text (his occasional corrections of other scholars are quietly deft). At one point, however, I felt that he could have said a little more. One long section of the Life is concerned with Symeon's defence, before the patriarchal court, of his veneration for his spiritual father, also called Symeon (indeed from whom Symeon took his name): veneration which included the making of an icon of his spiritual father. Symeon defends his action by citing the passage from Basil the Great's On the Holy Spirit, in which it is stated that honour offered to the image extends to the prototype. In the iconodule Fathers, this invariably meant that venerating the image of the saint is tantamount to venerating the saint (though in most cases, it is the icon of Christ that is in question). For Symeon, this passage is cited to assert that the veneration offered to the icon passes to the saint, and then to Christ Himself, for the human is created in the image of God, and in the saint this image has become manifest. It is an interesting, and profound, extension of the iconodule argument.

This volume is, then, to be warmly welcomed. It provides access to a work of manifold importance for eleventh-century Byzantium and the Byzantine ascetical tradition, improves on the earlier published versions, and is embellished by immensely helpful, and discreet, notes. Furthermore, like the other volumes in this series, it is beautifully printed and produced, despite the very modest price.

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Aaron P. Johnson, Religion and Identity in Porphyry of Tyre: The Limits of Hellenism in Late Antiquity. Greek culture in the Roman world. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Pp. ix, 374. ISBN 9781107012738. $99.00.

Reviewed by Pieter W. van der Horst (pwvdh@xs4all.nl)

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Although we have seen a revival of interest in Porphyry in the last few decades, there is as yet no comprehensive and up-to-date introduction to the world of thought of this Neoplatonist as a whole. Johnson's new monograph, even though it does not claim to do so, comes quite close to fulfilling this desideratum, even though it does not deal with all aspects of Porphyry's intellectual activity focusing as it does on the religious philosophy of Porphyry. It presents us with a careful analysis of Porphyry's extant writings, special attention being paid to the many fragments (now conveniently accessible in A. Smith's Teubner), and paints Porphyry as a thoroughly Hellenized Syrian who is nevertheless involved in a very critical engagement with the processes of Hellenism in late antiquity.

In the introductory chapter Johnson sketches his methodology (with emphasis on the concept of cultural translation, both 'vertical' and 'horizontal'; see below), gives an extensive overview of the fragmentarily preserved works of Porphyry, and introduces the reader to the many problems of reconstruction of these works. His sensible comments on the knotty problem of what to include and what not in a collection of fragments of Porphyry's Contra Christianos are exemplary (47). He also rightly rejects the thesis that this was not a work in its own right but no more than a part of his De philosophia ex oraculis haurienda (27-9).

The rest of the book contains six chapters which are divided into two parts: Porphyry the Theologian (chs. 2-4) and Porphyry the Ethnographer (chs. 5-7). In chapter 2 ('Porphyry's taxonomy of the divine'), Johnson deals with the relation between Porphyry's Platonic philosophy and traditional Greek religion and mythology. As he says, he seeks 'to trace the broad contours of his vertical theological translation – that is, his sustained activity of transferring the knowledge about the god as expressed in various media (especially literary and iconographic) into a Platonic philosophical system' (55). Plotinus' One is often called God by Porphyry ('he translated from an ontological frame of meaning into a theological one,' 60) and for Porphyry the true philosopher's relation to the One is like that of a priest to Zeus, the Father. Porphyry tackles the problem of how the gods of the traditional pantheon could possibly fit within the Platonic or Plotinian system. But he was not simply an apologist for traditional religion, for he was not merely attempting to dress the deities of popular religion in philosophical garb. 'They resided at a great distance from the One, who was their source at many removes' (82). Porphyry created an increasingly elaborate hierarchy of the divine world, in which he situated most of the traditional gods within the level of daimones (both good and bad) of a philosophical system, i.e., well below a Platonic conception of deity. Johnson emphasizes the permeability to the boundary marking the difference between gods and daimones.

Chapter 3 ('Salvation, translation, and the limits of cult') deals with Porphyry's soteriological doctrines. As Johnson says, "The search for salvation appears as a rather emphatic concern in Porphyry's corpus (in comparison to earlier philosophers)" (102). For Porphyry, salvation is the (difficult) return of the soul to its divine origin. In this connection, Porphyry takes a rather critical stance towards popular religious cultic acts performed in the material world – to put it another way, he is against bloody sacrifices of animals and heralds spiritual sacrifice in the form of contemplation of the divine as the highest form of worship. Animal sacrifices are meant for the lower range of the divine world, sc. demons, and these acts are categorized by him as "inappropriate to the transcendent philosophical life and deemed to be misleading to the pursuit of wisdom" (123). Porphyry also had a critical attitude towards deterministic astrology and theurgy. In this context, Johnson convincingly refutes long-standing theories about supposed contradictions between 'earlier' works such as Philosophia ex oraculis haurienda and 'later' works such as De abstinentia.

Chapter 4 ('The master reader: Contexts of "translation"') deals with the philosopher's elitist pedagogical aims. Here, first, the two Eisagôgai are discussed. But also several of his other works "point to the sustained efforts to maintain a spiritual and philosophical elitism in Porphyry's teaching program" (147). These works often evince an attempt "to offer beneficial commentary on texts deemed worthy of exposition for a student reader" (164) who has the right philosophical mindset and Porphyry presents himself as a spiritual guide in this pursuit of truth. These texts may be the poetry of Homer, oracles of Apollo, or an inscription on a temple in Delphi. Johnson points out that throughout Porphyry's corpus this exclusionary sentiment is basic to his pedagogical enterprise.

In chapter 5 ('Knowledge and nations: Porphyry's ethnic argumentation') we turn to the second part of the book. Here, Johnson draws our attention to the overwhelming preponderance of ethnographic material in the philosopher's writings, especially regarding other nations' diet and religious cult, as he wanted to demonstrate that "the univocal language of philosophy was translated into the multiple languages (or ways of life) of the ethnê (nations), gene (races or families), and poleis (cities) of the world" (191). Porphyry made the nations of the world integral parts of his philosophical argument, since in his view among the various nations with all their diversity of location, language, and communal customs, were groups of practitioners of the truly philosophical lives. As Johnson says programmatically, "Thus, if Porphyry performed a sort of vertical translation in organizing and speaking about the divine and rituals relating to the divine within a framework constituted by the scale of Being, from the One to multiplicity, he nevertheless maintained a horizontal translation which not only formulated philosophical truth in terms of the variegated breadth of his ethnic vision, but indeed used ethnographic data to defend and foster philosophical pursuits" (201). This is most visible in his De abstinentia.

Chapter 6 ('Ethnic particularism and the limits of Hellenism') deals with the role of 'barbarian wisdom' and the lack of Hellenocentricity in Porphyry's thought. Here, Johnson helpfully compares him to two other Phoenician authors writing in Greek, Philo of Byblos and Maximus of Tyre, and carefully delineates the agreements and differences. In Philo, "Hellenocentric claims were severely rebuked, while Phoenician claims were privileged, though not to the exclusion of others" (235); in Maximus, on the other hand, "we find a complete lack of evidence that the author was Phoenician at all" (236). In this framework Johnson rightly takes issue with J. Bidez's influential but hypothetical chronology of Porphyry's works in terms of a transition from an Oriental phase to a Hellenocentric phase, but he stops short of "throwing out the Phoenician baby with Bidez's Orientalizing bathwater" (243). Porphyry simply was not the spokesman for Hellenism he is so often held to be, if only because he is so often critical of Greek philosophy and theology, for instance when he stresses that as regards finding the path to the gods the Greeks have been and are misled, whereas the Chaldaeans, the Jews, the Indians and some other barbarian nations did find that path and are the real models of piety and wisdom. "Porphyry had brought the varied voices of representation of barbarian nations into the pages of his transcendental philosophical project" (256).

Chapter 7 ('The way home: Transcending particularism') discusses Porphyry's ideas about the philosophical value of the religions of various 'barbarian' nations (Egyptians, Persians, Chaldeans, Syrians and Phoenicians, Jews, Indians, and Romans). Here one is struck by Porphyry's particular concern to stress the role of the Jews ('Hebrews') in the progress of human knowledge about the divine. "It is impossible to find a pagan intellectual before the age of Constantine with as consistent and overt sympathies for the Jews and their way of life as Porphyry" (273).¹ Porphyry's respectful appeal to the Old Testament as an authoritative source (here he is heavily influenced by Numenius) is all the more stunning in view of his sarcastic comments on the New Testament. Striking as well is his negative view of the Romans as far as religion and philosophy are concerned.

Much more could be said about this rich and learned book. The reader should be warned that the book is far from being an easy read (due partly to the sometimes rather theoretical and theorizing terminology of the author). Nevertheless it is a pleasure to read because it is well argued, well organized, and original. Johnson has an intimate knowledge of all the relevant ancient sources and his mastery of the scholarly literature is superb. Anyone interested in the philosophical and religious world of late antiquity should read this indispensable work.²

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Notes:

1.   I came to very similar conclusions in my "Porphyry on Judaism: Some Observations," in Z. Weiss, O. Irshai, J. Magness, and S. Schwartz (edd.), "Follow the Wise." Studies in Jewish History and Culture in Honor of Lee I. Levine, Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2010, 71-83.
2.   Some minor points: I do not think that "to the ignorant condition of mortals" is a correct translation of meropôn ep' apeirona prêxin (106 n. 19; 338); it is rather "to the endless benefit of humankind." Porphyry's Homeric Questions on the Iliad should now be consulted in the new edition by J.A. MacPhail (2011); see 201 n. 86 where Sodano's outdated edition is referred to. Ad 275: On Theophrastus' view of Jewish sacrificial practice see now B. Bar-Kochva, The Image of the Jews in Greek Literature. The Hellenistic Period, Berkeley etc: University of California Press, 2010, 15-39.

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M. Zimmerman (ed.), Apulei Metamorphoseon Libri XI. Oxford classical texts. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. Pp. lix, 289. ISBN 9780199277025. $75.00.

Reviewed by Lucia Pasetti, University of Bologna (lucia.pasetti@unibo.it)

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Le Metamorfosi godono, almeno da vent'anni a questa parte, di uno speciale interesse, che si è tradotto in una bibliografia in costante crescita: l'ultima rassegna, curata nel 2000 da Schlam e Finkelpearl, richiederebbe oggi consistenti aggiornamenti, tra cui comparirebbero una nuova edizione delle Metamorfosi (Martos 2003) e diversi esemplari della serie, ormai quasi completa, dei commenti groningensi ai libri del romanzo (Groningen Commentaries on Apuleius; d'ora in poi GCA). Di questa intensa attività, Maaike Zimmerman è stata in molti casi direttamente partecipe. Dirò subito che uno dei punti forti del suo lavoro è proprio la capacità di confrontarsi criticamente con l'enorme mole di riflessioni recentemente suscitate dalle Metamorfosi: non solo Zimmerman mette a frutto, com' è naturale, la sua esperienza di commento, ma affronta anche il compito di una equilibrata revisione delle proprie scelte, recependo, ad esempio, molte proposte interessanti elaborate di recente. ¹ Il risultato della sintesi è una nuova e aggiornata costituzione del testo.

Sintesi e chiarezza emergono fin dalla prefazione, che in poche pagine affronta questioni fondamentali: dopo un breve inquadramento generale in cui non mancano cenni – rapidi, ma bibliograficamente aggiornati – ai grandi problemi interpretativi (ad es. quello, tutt'ora aperto, dell'unità del romanzo), l'attenzione si concentra sulla tradizione del testo. La trattazione dei problemi codicologici è opportunamente contestualizzata sul piano storico: nel ricostruire le vicende che separano l'edizione tardoantica confezionata da Sallustio e la comparsa, a Montecassino, del manoscritto più antico che ne conserva le tracce (il ben noto Laurenziano 68.2, sec., dell'XI sec., siglato F), Zimmerman fa sue le recenti conclusioni di Carver sulla circolazione del testo di Sallustio nell'Italia centro meridionale tra il IV e l'XI sec. Una certa attenzione viene rivolta anche alla ricezione di F in ambito umanistico e al lavorio condotto su questo tormentato manoscritto: anche in questo caso Zimmerman si avvantaggia dei risultati di studi recenti.

Quanto alle questioni stemmatiche, Zimmerman si assesta (come già Martos) sulle posizioni di Robertson, che individua in F l'unico capostipite dei manoscritti a noi noti. Nonostante il quadro di riferimento rimanga sostanzialmente immutato, Zimmerman ritiene opportuno rivalutare alcuni recentiores² utili a restituire la facies ormai oscurata di F. Questa conclusione raccoglie i risultati delle ricerche avviate sulla tradizione apuleiana da Pecere: alla fine degli anni Ottanta lo studioso teorizzò l'esistenza di un ramo della tradizione indipendente da F, individuandone i testimoni nei mss. appartenenti a quella che Robertson denomina "classe 1": in primo luogo A (Ambrosianus, del XIV sec.). L'ipotesi di Pecere – pur non trovando conferma nelle successive verifiche compiute da Magnaldi e Piccioni (il ms. sembra dipendere da F) – ha tuttavia stimolato una rivalutazione di A e della sua famiglia. Questi codici, infatti, copiati da F quando il ms. era ancora integro, sono particolarmente importanti per ricostruirne la facies originaria. La valorizzazione della classe 1, non recepita dalla recente edizione di Martos, è tenuta in grande considerazione da Zimmerman e influisce su non poche scelte editoriali: anche altri esemplari della stessa classe, come U (ms. della fine del XIV sec.) e l'editio princeps di de Buxis (1469), accuratamente esaminati e collazionati dalla studiosa, trovano uno spazio adeguato nel suo apparato. Nella stessa logica di rivalutare i recentiores rientra l'attenzione di Zimmerman per la Iuntina di Philomathes (1522), considerata una fonte attendibile per ricostruire F.

Dunque, a differenza di Martos, che ripone grande fiducia nel testo di F,³ Zimmerman guarda "with healthy distrust" al codice – più antico, sì, ma spesso poco leggibile – e cerca di recuperarne la fisionomia originaria con l'aiuto di "buoni" manoscritti recenti. Ne consegue anche un diverso approccio all'ortografia, che nell'edizione spagnola conserva la disomogeneità di F; per contro Zimmerman – che dedica al problema molte pagine della prefazione – affronta la fatica di valutare caso per caso, approdando a un giusto equilibrio tra l'esigenza di uniformità e l'usus apuleiano: com'è noto, l'ortografia è anche un tratto di stile e certe oscillazioni – in Apuleio specialmente – possono essere legate alla sensibilità per il suono o al gusto arcaizzante.

Il meditato ridimensionamento di F, che induce Zimmerman ad allontanarsi, in diversi casi, dal testo proposto nella serie dei GCA (basato su Helm, e quindi tendenzialmente fedele a F) produce, a mio avviso, due conseguenze rilevanti sulla costituzione del testo: la prima, già accennata, è la preferenza accordata ad alcuni recentiores, là dove F presenta lezioni problematiche o anche solo discutibili. Per chiarire, basterà qualche esempio:

2,12,4 Helm, Robertson, come pure GCA 2001 e Martos conservano nuptiarum di F, a fronte di nuptialis di φ, e di nuptiales, correzione della seconda mano di F già stampata Hildebrandt, che ne ravvisava la presenza nelle antiche edizioni; per Zimmerman la testimonianza di A e di U fa pendere la bilancia a favore di nuptiales.

3,19,5 il testo di F nec ipsa tu videare rerum rudis è conservato da Helm e da Martos, mentre Robertson, ritenendo necessaria una determinazione per rerum, integra rerum <istarum>; procedendo nella stessa direzione Zimmerman recupera talium di U.

8,10,1 a fronte di linguae satiati di F, Z. stampa linguae sauciantis; si allontana così dalle correzioni dei precendenti editori (lingua satianti di Robertson, linguae satiantis di Colvius, recepito da GCA 1985 e da Martos; lingua aestuanti di Helm) per recuperare una lezione di U già accolta nelle edizioni umanistiche (de Buxis, Philomathes), documentando il valore "psicologico" di saucio (le proposte di Trasillo "feriscono" l'animo di Carite, come già intendeva Beroaldo), sulla base di Plauto (Bacch. 64 e 213).

Il secondo aspetto è la tendenza a ricondurre a F il genere di errori dovuti a quella che Zimmerman definisce "monastic corruption": ad esempio i residui dei tentativi di autocorrezione del copista – non è un caso che le proposte formulate da Magnaldi sulla base della teoria delle "parole segnale" ricevano buona accoglienza da parte di Zimmerman⁴ –e soprattutto le glosse intrusive. Sarà opportuno menzionare ancora qualche passo:

5,5,1 praeter oculos et manibus et auribus {ius nihil} sentiebatur. La paradosi oscilla tra F ius nichil sentiebatur e φ his nihil sentiebatur, che non danno senso; numerose le congetture, alcune delle quali richiamate in apparato (<ut praesent>ius nihil di Robertson, facil< ius> nihil di Martos e <e > ius nihil <non> sentiebatur di Watt, ripresa da GCA 2004). Zimmerman torna alla soluzione di Helm, che interpreta ius nihil come corruzione della glossa hd nihil = hic deest nihil. 8,16,6 nequiquam frustra è la lezione di F conservata da Helm e difesa da GCA 1995, 156 come pleonasmo stilisticamente funzionale; Zimmerman espunge frustra sulla scia di Brantz, rilevando inoltre l'assenza dell'avverbio in A.⁵

Ci sono però alcuni casi in cui l'espunzione di un'ipotetica glossa intrusiva non pare del tutto convincente:

2,7,2 viscum fartim concisum et pulpam frustatim consectam {ambacu pascuae iurulenta}; la stessa sequenza è espunta da Helm che la intrepreta come una glossa al precedente tuccetum: per Zimmerman si riferisce invece a viscum… consectam. Numerose le congetture, riepilogate nel commento groningense (GCA 2001, 146) che alla fine appone le cruces ad ambacu pascuae, come già Robertson. Sembra strano in effetti che la glossa impieghi un aggettivo relativamente raro come iurulentus, ben documentato in Apuleio; a me pare che si possa salvare anche ambo (viscum e pulpa saranno entrambi ingredienti per un ripieno, da cui iurulenta); rimane però indecifrabile cu pascuae. Troppo macchinosi risultano sia pascuae di Colin (riportato in apparato: "par la pature servile") sia compascue di Saumaise e Frassinetti (ripreso da Martos) per cui l'avverbio – un hapax derivato dal tecnicismo agricolo compascuus ("che divide lo stesso pascolo" in Apul. met. 1,1,4, dove il referente è un cavallo) – si adatterebbe al contesto solo presupponendo un' ardita metafora: difficile tradurlo. ⁶ Perché dunque non mettere le cruces (†cu pascuae†)?

4,8,5 semiferis Lapithis {tebcinibus Centauris}que similia: a fronte di F semiferis Lapithis tebcinibus Centaurisque, Zimmerman espunge tebcinibus Centauris sulla scia di Dowden, che considera la sequenza una glossa intrusiva (Centauris spiegherebbe semiferis, mentre tebcinibus, come da apparato, sarebbe una corruzione di Thebanis); il passo verrebbe tradotto "simili in tutto agli esseri semiferini e ai Lapiti". La soluzione presuppone che semiferis, sostantivato, sia posto sullo stesso livello di Lapithis e indichi i Centauri (da cui la necessità di glossare). La correzione, indubbiamente economica, ha lo svantaggio di mettere sullo stesso piano un composto nominale e un etnico. C'è da chiedersi se una simile inconcinnitas sia in linea con lo stile apuleiano, incline, piuttosto, al parallelismo. Anche la sostantivazione di semifer, pur avvalorata da precedenti ovidiani, risulta troppo dura. Quella di Dowden non mi pare dunque più probabile delle altre soluzioni elencate nel commento di Hijmans (GCA 1977, 71s.), che stampa un poco convincente semiferis Lapithis <ti>tuban< t>ibus Centaurisque. Credo che i casi più probabili siano due: 1) la corruttela potrebbe essere determinata da un disturbo dell'ordo verborum (da qui la separazione di semiferis da Centauris) come sospetta probabilmente Nicolini 2005, che appone le cruces all'intera sequenza; 2) la corruttela potrebbe essere limitata a tebcinibus, che celerebbe un epiteto per noi perduto, originariamente posposto a Centaurisque, mentre semiferis potrebbe essere salvato con il valore traslato di "selvaggi, feroci":⁷ in questo caso sarebbe sulla via giusta Robertson: semiferis Lapithis {tebcinibus} Centaurisque <semihominibus>. Ma, se l'antimetabole non convince, si possono apporre le cruces a tebcinibus (così Martos 2003). In generale, la riluttanza alle cruces mi sembra una costante, nella vicenda editoriale delle Metamorfosi in età contemporanea, su cui vale la pena di spendere qualche parola. Si sa che il ricorso alla crux dovrebbe essere rigorosamente limitato ai casi in cui si ha la certezza – non il semplice sospetto – che il testo sia corrotto,⁸ ma non direi che nelle Metamorfosi questi casi siano del tutto assenti. Forse (al di là dei singoli problemi) il fatto che il romanzo riscuota l'interesse di un pubblico ampio di non specialisti, a cui si desidera offrire un testo privo di discontinuità, esercita un'influenza su cui bisognerebbe riflettere.

Aspetti indubbiamente apprezzabili sono poi la scelta, di carattere pratico, di conservare la paragrafazione di Robertson-Vallette, come pure la cura dedicata all'interpunzione. La punteggiatura, più frequente e precisa che nelle precedenti edizioni, non solo agevola l'orientamento nella complessa sintassi apuleiana, ma in qualche caso offre economiche soluzioni per i problemi esegetici: tra gli esempi possibili, 3,2,5 tamen pererratis plateis omnibus, et in modum eorum qui {lustralibus piamentis} minas portentorum hostiis circumforaneis expiant circumductus angulatim forum, adusque tribunal adstituor; qui Zimmerman accoglie la proposta di Conte di collocare una virgola dopo forum (Helm la colloca prima, Robertson e Martos la omettono); accorgimento che, assieme ad altri minimi interventi (la scelta della lezione qui di v per quibus di F; la correzione adusque per eiusque), risolve l'impasse sintattica.⁹ Qualche ambiguità è invece creata proprio dall'interpunzione in 1,25,2 demonstro seniculum – in angulo sedebat – quem confestim pro aedilitatis imperio voce asperrima increpans, 'iam iam' inquit…. Mi pare che il tratto lungo, già in Hanson, oscuri (almeno per il lettore non anglosassone) il nesso relativo, evidenziato invece dalla punteggiatura comunemente adottata (Demonstro seniculum: in angulo sedebat. Quem…).

Una nuova edizione suscita inevitabilmente nuove riflessioni, ma in definitiva quello che Zimmerman ci consegna è un testo sostenuto da un'idea della tradizione aggiornata e condivisibile (di fatto largamente condivisa); un testo pulito, agevole e bibliograficamente ineccepibile: senz'altro le Metamorfosi che leggeremo nei prossimi anni.

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Notes:

1.   E.g. Conte (2,32,1), Ammannati (2,13,5), Panayotakis (6,18,6).
2.   Cf. M. Zimmerman 'Age and Merit: the Importance of Recentiores and Incunabula for the Text of Apuleius' Metamorphoses', Segno e testo 9, 2001, 131-163.
3.   Sul carattere conservativo dell'edizione cf. Hunink BMCR 2004.12.14, Kenney, CR 55.1, 2005, 149-152; Zimmerman, AN 4, 2005, 213; Harrison, Gnomon 78, 2006, 227.
4.   Le proposte di Magnaldi sono messe a testo, ad es., in 2,25,2; 4,31,5; 8,1,5; 9,30,6.
5.   Per nequiquam spiegato con frustra, cf. Paul. Fest. 160,12 L.
6.  Elusivo Martos: "preparadas los dos con la misma salsa".
7.  Cf. Forcellini IV 300 e OLD 1730b; per la ferocia dei Lapiti cf. Verg. Aen. 7,304 con Fordyce, Oxford 1977, 118.
8.  Cf. E. Degani, 'Il nuovo Fozio e la crux desperationis', Eclás 1984, 113.
9.  Forse meno indipensabile l'espunzione di lustralibus piamentis come glossa di hostiis circumforaneis: il relativamente raro piamentum (glossato da Festo 233,10s. L.) difficilmente spiegherà il comune hostia; Lustralibus piamentis significherà "durante i riti di purificazione". Per snellire il periodo, si può interpungere dopo et e prima di circumductus. ​

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Eugen Dönt, Aristophanes: Komödie als Distanz und Identifikation. Wien: Verlag Holzhausen, 2012. Pp. 92. ISBN 9783902868022. €24.99.

Reviewed by Peter von Möllendorff, Institut für Altertumswissenschaften, Justus-Liebig-Universität Gießen (peter.v.moellendorff@klassphil.uni-giessen.de)

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[Inhaltsverzeichnis am Ende der Besprechung.]

Beginnt man Eugen Dönts Buch von hinten, bei der „Weiterführenden Literatur", zu lesen, so stellt man zunächst fest, daß es dem Verfasser offensichtlich nicht eigentlich um einen präzise in der aktuellen Forschungslandschaft plazierten Beitrag geht: Dokumentiert ist fast ausschließlich die ältere deutschsprachige Forschung bis in die 80er Jahre des vergangenen Jahrhunderts, und die auch nur selektiv. In deren Tradition steht daher auch der vorangehende knapp 90seitige Essay, der in drei Teile zerfällt. 'Aristophanes, der Dichter und sein Gegenstand' (13-41) behandelt Politik, Philosophie und zeitgenössische Dichtung als die drei großen Themen der Aristophanischen Komödie. Zentrales Thema des Aristophanes sei „die Stellung des Menschen in der Gesellschaft ..., die dem Menschen wesenseigene Natur ..., das Wesen der menschlichen Natur ...", die „ein Allgemeines ist ... zeitlos, ewig gültig." (9). Dieser essentialistischen Herangehensweise entspricht dann, daß Dönt mit (kaum hinterfragten oder aufgefächerten) statischen Konzepten arbeitet: 'dem Dichter', 'dem Volk', 'der Politik', 'der Wirklichkeit', 'der Natur' etc. – dies ist aus der Perspektive der die Altertumswissenschaften aktuell klar prägenden Kulturwissenschaft gewiß eine problematische Herangehensweise und hätte vor dem Hintergrund des aktuellen main streams der Komödienforschung der Rechtfertigung bedurft. Ebenso kritisch läßt sich die (nicht näher argumentierte) Position hinterfragen, daß wir in den Äußerungen des Chors Aristophanes' „persönliches Verstehen" „in objektiv-distanzierter Weise" kennenlernen könnten (11): Daß auch chorische Positionen letztlich figuraler Natur und damit Teil des gesamten ideologischen Entwurfs sind und daß sich auktoriale Positionen darin nicht weniger als in Äußerungen der Protagonisten finden, aber eben in Engführung mit anderen Stimmen, würde spätestens seit Goldhills Poet's Voice wohl niemand mehr bestreiten. ¹ Aufgabe des Dichters (!) sei die Stiftung von politischem Ausgleich und Harmonie (23), das Volk (!) sei für Aristophanes einerseits gottbegnadeter Träger der Politik (29), andererseits „dumm und verführbar" (24). Dies wird mit zum Teil länger ausgeführten Querverweisen auf gleichfalls eher konzeptualistische Positionen bei Platon, Aristoteles und Thukydides zusammengesehen, obgleich Dönt zu Recht gerade auf die konkretistische Entfaltung des Konzeptuellen bei Aristophanes Wert legt. Das läuft letztlich auf die Grundannahme hinaus, daß Aristophanes poetische Technik darin bestehe, theoretische Einsichten und Annahmen zu konkretisieren und zugleich die darin enthaltene Gesellschaftskritik in satirischer Überzeichnung und Brechung zu präsentieren – keine neue Position, deren Mangel zudem darin besteht, daß sie Dramaturgie, Stil, poetischer Pragmatik nur eine rein mediale Bedeutung beläßt, hinter der sich eine politische Botschaft versteckt, die zu entschlüsseln ist, wenn sie auch –aufgrund der genannten Statik der politikrelevanten Faktoren – letztlich nur undifferenziert daherzukommen vermag und auch die konservativen Grundannahmen des Verfassers nicht kaschiert, die Störern der tradierten Ordnung (etwa den Sophisten) gegenüber distanziert bleibt (etwa 30, 34), von der Geistesgeschichte geadelte Gestalten, wie Sokrates, hingegen aus dem Fokus komischer Kritik herausnimmt. Wenn man Dönt auch zustimmen mag, daß ein Faktor satirischer Komik in Aristophanes' Komödien die Orientierungs- und auch Verantwortungslosigkeit des Einzelnen in einer (durch das Theaterpublikum vertretenen: 36) basisdemokratischen Gesellschaft ist, so wird man seiner finalen epochengeschichtlichen Einordnung (40f.) vielleicht nicht folgen wollen, wonach Homers Epos „gewissermaßen 'Volksdichtung'" war, hingegen „die Klassische Tragödie Kulthandlung, in der sich das Volk zusammenfand" (40); dagegen dichte Aristophanes in einer Phase des Umbruchs, der Krise, eben am Ende einer Epoche, für die grundsätzlich eine innere Distanz zur Wirklichkeit typisch sei, die sich literarisch in der Zunahme des Satirischen äußere. Dahinter steht eine organologische, Umbruchzeiten als Degenerationsphasen desavouierende Auffassung von Gesellschaftsgeschichte, die umgekehrt soziale Homogenität dort voraussetzt, wo wir – wie bei Homer – nichts darüber wissen oder wo – wie für die Tragödie, deren Zeitgenosse Aristophanes doch ist: Oder was meint Dönt mit „Klassischer Tragödie"? – eine solche Homogenität nicht wirklich gegeben ist, will man das 5. Jhd. nicht als eine „in sich ruhende Welt" (40) ansehen, was so global sicher nicht behauptet werden kann, nicht einmal für die Gesellschaftsgeschichte der Polis Athen allein.

Im zweiten Abschnitt – 'Utopie, „die Unwirklichkeit der Verzweiflung"' (43-63) – bestimmt Dönt Aristophanes' Anliegen als den Versuch, „dem Publikum ... für den Zeitraum der Aufführung die Augen [zu] öffnen, den Blick frei [zu] machen ..." (46). Dabei herrsche das Bewußtsein des utopischen Charakters aller handlungsbestimmender Wünsche vor, die Verzweiflung darüber werde im versöhnlichen „Humor" (partiell von Dönt als – bezweifelbare und auch nicht näher erläuterte – Übersetzungsoption für σκώμματα verwendet: 51) aufgehoben: „aus der Utopie [wird] eine Versöhnung des Leidens am Endlichen mit der Vision eines Absoluten" (47). Auch hier, wie im ersten Kapitel, operiert Dönt aber im Grunde mit vagen Konzepten (das „Endliche", das „Absolute"), die keine differenzierte Füllung erfahren. Dabei beobachtet er zu Recht die Rückwärtsgewandtheit der Aristophanischen Utopie-Komik, ebenso die schlaraffische Aufladung der Utopie durch unrestringierte Sexualität und Überfluß an Nahrungsmitteln. Das alles wird aber nicht eigentlich vertieft, sondern im zweiten Teil des Kapitels durch Vergleiche und Analogien aus Dramen Brechts, Tschechovs, Bernhards, Becketts erweitert, so daß der eigentliche Fokus des Abschnittes unklar bleibt. Der Versuch, Plot und Text der Komödie durchsichtig zu machen hin auf eine generalistische Weltdeutung und ein ebenso allgemeines philosophisches Basiskonzept, vernachlässigt erneut den Autonomieanspruch des Poetischen genauso wie seine kulturelle Kontextualisierung. Auch einzelne Deutungen, meist eher aphoristischer Natur, gehen daher ins Leere, wenn etwa die Utopie der Ekklesiazusen als „egoistisches Streben nach Befriedigung sinnlicher Begierden" desavouiert wird (60): Gerade die Sinnlichkeit utopischer Wünsche ist ja ein Charakteristikum Aristophanischer Entwürfe, und gerade Praxagora kann man eben nicht Egoismus unterstellen.

Das letzte Kapitel – 'Distanz und Nähe' (65-83) – arbeitet schließlich den Gedanken aus, daß Aristophanes mit seinen utopischen Entwürfen neue Mythen schaffe, deren Konkretheit und Alltagsnähe Dönt den traditionellen und damit distanzierteren Mythen der Tragödie gegenüberstellt. Zweck des komischen Mythos sei eine Durchleuchtung gerade der athenischen Gesellschaft „in ihrer Wahrheit" (70): Das Individuum empfinde sich permanent als Mangelwesen, versuche beständig, über die Enge seines Daseins hinauszugelangen, scheitere dabei regelmäßig, aber im Humor der Aristophanischen Komödie könne eben jenes Individuum über sein eigenes Scheitern auch lachen. Leider wird auch dieser Gedanke nicht eigentlich vertieft, denn man könnte ja fragen, inwiefern man denn Dikaiopolis, Peithetairos oder Lysistrate als Scheiternde ansehen wolle: Die Aristophanische Utopie ist von vornherein an den Festkontext und seine raumzeitliche Chronotopie gebunden, und sie bekümmert sich nicht darum, was außerhalb dieses Chronotops aus ihr werden könnte. Deshalb haben auch jene Protagonisten gar keinen Anlaß, über sich selbst zu lachen.

So bleiben am Ende Zweck und Zielrichtung des Essays, aber auch die kulturwissenschaftlichen Prämissen, auf denen Dönt seine Argumentation aufruhen läßt, unklar. Und das ist gerade angesichts der großen Belesenheit des Verfassers in der europäischen Rezeption, aus der mehr hätte gemacht werden können, besonders schade.

Inhalt

Vorwort 5
Vorbemerkung 7
Aristophanes, der Dichter und sein Gegenstand 13
Utopie, „die Unwirklichkeit der Verzweiflung" 43
Distanz und Nähe 65
Nachbemerkung 85
Weiterführende Literatur 89
Der Autor 92

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Notes:

1.   Simon Goldhill, The Poet's Voice. Essays on Poetics and Greek Literature, Cambridge 1991.

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Edward Bleiberg, Yekaterina Barbash, Lisa Bruno, Soulful Creatures: Animal Mummies in Ancient Egypt. London; Brooklyn, NY: D Giles Limited, in association with the Brooklyn Museum, 2013. Pp. 152. ISBN 9781907804274. $40.00.

Reviewed by Salima Ikram, American University in Cairo (salima@aucegypt.edu)

Version at BMCR home site

Although this beautifully illustrated book was produced to serve as a catalogue accompanying the eponymous exhibition, it can stand on its own, and is of interest to both scholars and general readers. It is divided into three main parts, each written by one of the authors, and concludes with an Appendix by Barbash, the author of the first chapter. A brief bibliography of selected readings appears at the end. The book is prefaced by a chronology—but this is unlike other chronologies found in exhibition catalogues: it goes beyond a list of dates as it mentions key points and trends that typify each period—a sort of a mini-history—and is illustrated by objects that relate to the period in question, while resonating with the animal theme of the exhibition.

The first chapter, 'How the Ancient Egyptians Viewed the Animal World', by Barbash, outlines the sacred and secular roles played by animals in ancient Egyptian culture. It stresses the ideas of duality (benevolent and dangerous) and balance that are inherent in the ancient Egyptians' world-view, as manifested by the way in which they presented certain animals and their associated deities. This is followed by a brief but informative section on "Animal Imagery," including animals that are personifications of kings and gods, and how these concepts display domination of nature and human beings, while maintaining cosmic balance. The chapter then segues into a list of the most common animals that were mummified, as well as their roles in the more prosaic daily existence of the ancient Egyptians: cattle, sheep, goats, canines, felines, antelopes, monkeys, shrews, birds ( ducks, geese, ibises, raptors), fish, reptiles, and insects, in the form of scarab beetles.

Bleiberg is the author of the second chapter, 'Animal Mummies: the Souls of the Gods'. This contains interesting summaries of the perceptions and misconceptions of other cultures (Jewish, Greek, Roman, and Christian) on Egyptian cults, particularly those involving animals. The author provides a good discussion of how animals fit into the world—echoing and elaborating on Barbash's contribution. Most of the chapter deals with the role played by animal cults in personal piety, with a short section on the logistics and economics involved in maintaining such cults. It includes a significant number of letters written by supplicants to the gods, transferred via votive animal mummies, which elucidate the relationship between the pilgrim/devotee and the offering and the god. Using portions of an ostrakon-based archive (known as The Archive of Hor¹), Bleiberg explains temple organization, the hierarchy of priests, and their respective duties. The economic implications of making offerings of different types are also elegantly illustrated by calculating the worth of higher-end offerings of containers partially or entirely made of bronze, a commodity whose price can be established. This chapter makes an obscure aspect of ancient Egyptian religion accessible, comprehensible, and congenial for the contemporary reader.

The final chapter, 'The Scientific Examination of Animal Mummies', by Bruno, presents the results of the scientific analysis and conservation studies carried out on the mummies. In a clear and accessible way it explains the science used to obtain more information about the mummies: dye and textile analyses, Carbon 14 and Accelerated Mass Spectrometry (AMS) dating, analyses of embalming materials using Gas Spectrometry, and various sorts of imaging (x-rays, negative x-rays, CT-scans). Interesting in its own right by illustrating the use of science in archaeology, this is also an excellent tool for scholars of animal mummies as it provides potential parallels in terms of analytical results, as well as prospective avenues of investigation. It is therefore hoped that more results of these varied studies will be published in greater detail. The images in the scientific section are extremely illuminating, particularly those illustrating the negative and positive radiographs (figs. 92 and 93), the ones showing advances in straightforward radiography ( figs. 97 and 98), as well as those demonstrating the differences between what x-rays and CTs capture (figs. 101 and 102).

The brief Appendix 'Possible Precursors to the Animal Cults' provides a typology of animal mummies, and touches upon their origins. Although it does not reach any major conclusions about the origins of the cults, it traces back their history very neatly. This essay could have been better integrated into the first chapter, also by Barbash, as it would have given the lay-audience an easier entry into the main focus of the exhibition.

There are very few points to criticize in this work, and some seem due to an attempt to keep footnotes and bibliography to a minimum, in order to make the text more appealing to the general public. Thus, it would be interesting to learn more about the Twenty-second Dynasty royal cache containing a gazelle (p. 41), as this reviewer only knows of the Twenty-first Dynasty gazelle, belonging to Queen Isitemkheb D, buried in Tomb 320 at Deir el- Bahari (Thebes). Similarly, sources for the number of mummies (p. 64) would have been helpful, as would examples of the architectural patterns (p. 111) that are thought to have inspired the patterns of wrappings. Other points for discussion arise in the section on canines (p. 37) where the author lists dog breeds found in ancient Egypt. Technically (alas) until large-scale genetic work is done on ancient dog populations one cannot really apply the names of modern breeds to the Egyptian, although one can suggest that, given the appearance of the ancient ones, the modern greyhound, basenji, and saluki may derive from the Egyptian animals. Some statements appear somewhat exaggerated, such as 'monkeys appear in almost every animal necropolis of the Ptolemaic Period' (p. 43), as monkey (including baboon) mummies seem to be largely restricted to Saqqara and Tuna el-Gebel; or, categorically stating that the inhabitants of Esna always eschewed Nile Perch (p. 59) solely on the basis of reports by a classical author.

However, these points are minor ones. The book provides an excellent overview of animal cults in ancient Egypt presented in a language suitable for the general public as well as being appropriate for scholars. Despite being written by three different authors, the essays are seamlessly interconnected and reference one another, emphasizing the collaborative nature of both the exhibition and the monograph. The choice of objects in the exhibition and their photographs are superb, as well as useful—this is the first time in print for the majority of the animal mummies, together with the results of their analyses. Throughout, the authors successfully combine art history, history, cultural studies and science in one accessible volume that is a pleasure to read.

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Notes:

1.   J. D. Ray. The Archive of Hor. London: Egypt Exploration Society, 1976.

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Samuel Verdan, Le sanctuaire d'Apollon Daphnéphoros à l'époque géométrique (2 vols.). Eretria, 22. Gallion: Infolio éditions, 2013. Pp. 286; 182. ISBN 9782884744119. 120 CHF.

Contributors: Sandrine Huber, Patrice Méniel, Tatiana Theodoropoulou, Evi Margaritis, Nigel D. Meeks, Paul T. Craddock.

Reviewed by Stefanos Gimatzidis, Austrian Academy of Sciences (stefanos.gimatzidis@oeaw.ac.at)

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This study, originally presented as a doctoral thesis at the University of Lausanne, is the long-awaited publication of the earlier phases of the sanctuary of Apollo Daphnephoros at Eretria. The site, under excavation since the end of the 19th century, is regarded as one of the most eloquent archaeological sites for the deciphering of early Greek cult practice. This is already made clear in the introduction, which apart from presenting methodology and objectives, also reviews the site's research history from the early Greek excavations and the take-over by the Swiss School of Archaeology at Athens in the 1960s, to the modern excavations of the last twenty years conducted by Sandrine Huber and the author, the latter masterly published in some of the recent volumes of Eretria. In this same chapter, Verdan also gives some description of the damage caused by the earlier Greek, and in part Swiss, excavations, which left either no or insufficient documentation. This was one of the major problems confronting the author.

The first chapter treats the stratigraphy and structures of the sanctuary. It seems that alluviation was the most influential factor in the area. Episodes of regular sedimentation were observable between Early Helladic II, i.e. the date of the earliest structures, and Subprotogeometric II, when the site was reused perhaps as a cemetery. Fluvial activity was continuous even during phase I of the construction of the sanctuary's first structures (MG II/early LG II) as well as later, during phases II (LG I–LG II) and III (end of LG II). It is unclear why such an unstable landscape was chosen as a place to found a sanctuary. Verdan interprets its enclosures as protective walls against the flood episodes. But could they guarantee a safe and dry place to perform rituals? Even so, it may be asked why the central area of cult performance, altar St12 and surroundings, was always kept outside the allegedly protected zone of the sanctuary (pp. 49–51). The most feasible explanation would be that the occupation of the site had significant breaks and periods of abandonment. Perhaps M. Ghilardi, who has conducted research in the area, will offer additional answers to this and other problems related to the archaeogeomorphology of the site (pp. 40 n. 97). Though Verdan attempts a stratigraphic correlation between various structures and sectors of the sanctuary, this is difficult to achieve without overlapping architectural remains. Compounding this difficulty is the scarcity of pottery and other finds from contexts that can be reliably associated with any given occupation level of the buildings due to the problems of earlier excavation practice, as mentioned above. Even the pits, which yielded the great majority of archaeological material from the site, were often not treated as separate contexts during excavation (pits 26, 258, 105, 106, 190, 211, 253, 254, 122).

The second chapter of the book deals with the pottery assemblages and their chronology. The ceramic finds are certainly spectacular. One would ask, however, if it was really necessary to republish the content of six pits, which were originally published and commented in Eretria 20 and occupy 14 plates and several pages of commentary in the present book. The literature cited in the analysis of the Subprotogeometric wares is outdated, while in the case of the Late Geometric wares there are references almost exclusively to Lefkandi, Eretria 20 and Coldstream's pottery handbook.

The third chapter, under the title qualitative approach of the pottery, principally describes the imported, figurative and inscribed pottery. It is not clear why this, the previous, and the next chapter do not form a single chapter.

Chapter four is devoted to the quantitative analysis of the material. Anyone who has worked with settlement material understands the positive effect of quantitative analysis conducted by a single person upon the reliability of the results. Though counting thousands of rim sherds (pp. 66) among hundreds of thousands of others is a highly time-consuming job, the task was actually accomplished by the author himself (information hidden in footnote 506 on pp. 110). Had it not been for the disturbed ceramic contexts and the biased sampling during the older excavations (see i.e. pp. 116), we would have had excellent results to work with. What is missing not only from quantification but generally from pottery analysis in this book is the study of ceramic technology.¹ The author does not even define the major categories that he is revising, i.e. course, semi-course and fine pottery (pp. 113–114). Ceramic technology studies have unfortunately become the victim of historical-cultural approaches in the discipline of classical archaeology that look for evidence of historical events in the pottery shapes and types, though this is however not the case in this book. Despite that, I cannot share Verdan's enthusiasm over the quantitative analysis of the material of Eretria, which – he admits – did not bring any significant results (pp. 123).

The small objects from the area of the sanctuary are presented in chapter five, while in chapter six the author presents some very special finds, i.e. waste material from metalworking installations found all over the best investigated areas.

In chapter seven a space analysis is undertaken and there is also a discussion of architecture and building techniques. Verdan here avoids an extensive comparative study of the sanctuary of Apollo at Eretria in its wider Aegean context. So it is inevitable that he feels very uncomfortable when, for example, he deals with the interpretation of the numerous pits within the sanctuary which form a dominant feature of its morphology and function, since he overlooks parallels in other regions (pp. 120; 157–158).

In chapter eight Verdan explores the origins of the sanctuary by considering its place within the narrow limits of the local settlement, consequently missing again the wider Aegean context to which the Eretrian sanctuary belongs. As he also picks up the old discussion about the origin of the city of Eretria as well as the origin of its cults (Lefkandi or Amarynthos?), one wonders if there is any sense in reviving such old-fashioned kinds of questions which overlook fundamental issues of landscape archaeology and resulting critique (pp. 173–178).² On the basis of the new finds (especially Ed150) Verdan proposes a new interpretation for the function of the site during phase I. The author believes that the few animal bones in the circular structure St12 attest to its function as an altar, although no votive offerings have been found as yet. Accordingly, he proposes that there were two different sectors at the site from the beginning of the 8th century occupation: one cult sector comprised of buildings Ed150 and Ed1 and two domestic ones with Ed9 and Ed5. However, separating Ed1 from Ed 9 solely on the presence of a series of pits between them is far from convincing. The discovery of building Ed150 has brought significant new evidence for the comprehension of spatial organization at the site. The presence of monumental craters in building Ed150,³ clearly orientated towards structure St12, is testament to the elaborate symposia that could have been organized by some local elite. However, Verdan's belief that the residences of these elites could be found in different sectors, allegedly comprised of structures Ed9 and Ed5, is not persuasive. On the contrary, it seems more reasonable that Ed150, Ed9 and Ed1 belong to the same sector, which means that the people who lived there were responsible for both the organization of symposia and the metalworking. I think that this makes the theory of Mazarakis, who believes that the origins of Greek religion must be sought in the domain of an older monarchy/aristocracy, and its development subject to socio-political changes, more attractive.⁴ That theory was the outcome of an extended comparative study that considered archaeological evidence from all over Greece. The same changes were also observed in the study of the Heroon at the West Gate of Eretria by Bérard and recently found further support in another study that took into consideration the votive practices in the wider cult context of the Aegean. ⁵ Through these studies, it has become clear that a major change in function took place at Greek sanctuaries at the end of the Geometric period with the widening of the social basis of their clientele. This is attested at several sanctuaries by the replacement of monumental or normal-sized ritual vessels by numerous cheap miniatures of the same shape at the very end of the Geometric and beginning of the archaic periods. This was exactly what happened at the sanctuary of Apollo Daphnephoros and the sacrificial area to the north during this same period. In conclusion, I agree with Verdan that the aristocracy was responsible for the performance of cult practice. There is, however, an obvious break in its development that he denies, i.e., the participation of the rest of the community at a later stage, during phase II, when the miniature vessels appear for the first time as votive offerings not only in Eretria but all over Greece.⁶

Chapter nine reviews the function of the sanctuary during its second phase, when cult practice is attested to by votive offerings for the first time. This is the time when the first hekatompedon (Ed2) was erected, which according to the author had multiple functions. According to the distribution of small finds the hekatompedon may have been primarily a temple (not with the conventional meaning that it housed the cult image of a god), while Ed150 could have been a place for symposia (pp. 200–204). Laying aside Verdan's views on the social role of the metal workers in the sanctuary area (pp. 186; 206–207), the author offers a persuasive scenario of ritual processions connecting the sanctuary of Apollo and the sacrificial area to its North. I cannot, however, agree with him on the interpretation of the figurative scenes on some of the common mixing and drinking vessels as any kind of historical evidence for rites of passage ceremonies (pp. 219–222 [see especially the discussion on the sherds with dancing scenes and sherd no. 366]; see also pp. 208 [sherds no. 290, 373]).

In his concluding chapter, Verdan argues more persuasively for the early practice of Daphneforeia at the sanctuary of Eretria by means of the iconography of women holding branches on some ritual vases from the sacrificial area.

At the end of the book, terrestrial archaeozoological material is analyzed from many different contexts of the sanctuary area, but unfortunately none from building Ed2 (pp. 201). The study of the marine archaeozoological material has shown that an impressively large shell known as noble pen shell (Pinna nobilis) must have played a particular role at the symposia in buildings Ed150 and Ed1 during phase I. There is also a contribution on the plant remains from pit Fo221. Finally the examination of two sherds with gold particles has shown that they were used to melt gold for assay.

In the second volume there is a catalogue with short descriptions of the finds presented, analytical tables with the graffiti on the vases, several types of tables with statistical analyses, lists of every single structure found at the site, very helpful, analytical plans of Eretria and its sanctuary (pl. 1–10), maps showing the distribution of several finds (pl. 11–16), very good excavation photos though rather few stratigraphic sections, plans and reconstructions (pl. 17–57), numerous pottery drawings and photos of excellent quality (pl. 58–114) and finally statistical tables and photos of the material analyzed in the contributions.

The new Eretria volumes of Verdan uphold the high quality of earlier works in the same series and will form an important point of departure for further researches on the origin of Greek sanctuaries in the Aegean.

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Notes:

1.   See for example P.M. Rice, "Evolution of Specialized Pottery Production: A Trial Model," Current Anthr. 22, 1981, 219–240; C.M. Sinopoli, Approaches to Archaeological Ceramics (New York; London 1991) 9–42; 52–67; 98–103.
2.   A. Fleming, "Post-processual Landscape Archaeology: a Critique," Cambridge Arch. Journal 16, 2006, 267–280.
3.   The largest crater was actually found placed on a base in the apsis of the building.
4.   A. Mazarakis Ainian, From rulers' dwellings to temples. Architecture, religion and society in Early Iron Age Greece (1100-700 B.C.), SIMA 121 (Jonsered 1997) 393–396.
5.   S. Gimatzidis, "Feasting and Offering to the Gods in Early Greek Sanctuaries: Monumentalization and Miniaturisation in Pottery" in A. Smith/M. Bergeron (eds.), The Gods of Small Things. Ure Museum, University of Reading, 21-22 September 2009. Pallas 86, 2011, 73–93; cf. A. Scholl, "ΑΝΑΘΗΜΑΤΑ ΤΩΝ ΑΡΧΑΙΩΝ. Die Akropolisvotive aus dem 8. bis frühen 6. Jahrhundert v. Chr. und die Staatswerdung Athens," Jahrb. DAI121, 2006, 117; 128.
6.   The monumental and valuable symposiatic mixing vessels may allude to the presence of an elite group, if any, and not to the whole community, as Verdan proposes.

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Claudia Ruggeri (ed.), Die antiken Schriftzeugnisse über den Kerameikos von Athen. Teil 2: Das Dipylongebiet und der Äußere Kerameikos. Tyche: Sonderband, 5/2. Wien: Verlag Holzhausen, 2013. Pp. 306. ISBN 9783854931867. €55.00 (pb).

Reviewed by Constanze Graml, Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz (graml@uni-mainz.de)

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Inhalt

Im Jahr 2004 initiierte Peter Siewert das Projekt einer kritischen Quellensammlung aller antiken Textzeugnisse zum nordwestlichen Stadtgebiet Athens, dem so genannten Kerameikos. Dem breiten Verwendungsspektrum des Namens „Kerameikos", bedingt durch die diachron variierenden Bezugsräume des Begriffs, wurde dabei in vollem Umfang Rechnung getragen. So wurden neben dem als Straße verstandenen Kerameikos der archaischen bis hellenistischen Zeit auch die Zeugnisse zu dem in römischer Zeit als Kerameikos bezeichneten Areal einbezogen, welche das an die Straße angrenzende Gebiet einschließen.

Die Quellenfülle sowie der Umstand, dass der Kerameikos bereits in der Antike als zweigeteilt beschrieben wurde, führten zur Aufteilung der Projekt-Publikation auf zwei Bände. Der erste, bereits 2007 vorgelegte Band behandelt die Schriftzeugnisse des Inneren Kerameikos.¹ Mit dem Erscheinen des zweiten Bandes zum Dipylongebiet und dem Äußeren Kerameikos hat das seit 2008 von Claudia Ruggeri unter der Mitarbeit von Ilja Steffelbauer fortgeführte Projekt der Testimonien-Sammlung nun seinen Abschluss gefunden. Die folgende Besprechung gilt in erster Linie dem neu erschienenen zweiten Band, wobei bedingt durch Mehrfach-Bezüge einer Quelle, sowohl auf den Inneren als auch auf den Äußeren Kerameikos, vereinzelt auch auf Band I Bezug genommen wird.

Inhalt: Während sich der erste Band mit dem von der klassischen Agora bis zum Dipylontor reichenden innerstädtischen Gebiet befasst und dabei besonders die Verquickung des Begriffs „Kerameikos" mit dem Demos „Kerameis" wie auch der Agora analysiert und differenziert darlegt, widmet sich der zweite Band dem geographischen Raum vom Dipylontor bis hin zur stadtauswärts gelegenen Akademie Platons. Aufgrund der antiken Verwendung des Terminus „Kerameikos" werden auch die entlang der Verkehrsachse und die im näheren Umfeld liegenden Bauten einbezogen. Dabei werden, analog zu Band I, topographische und tätigkeitsbezogene Themenkomplexe gebildet, denen die einzelnen Schriftzeugnisse zugeordnet werden.

Band II beginnt mit der Definition des zu behandelnden Gebietes und der Diskussion der in einzelnen Quellen überlieferten Verquickung des Toponyms „Kerameikos" mit dem Dipylongebiet und der Akademie (Kap. A). Im Anschluss daran wird anhand von zwei literarischen Beschreibungen ein Überblick über das Gelände mit dort verorteten Einrichtungen, einmal zur Zeit Ciceros und einmal zur Zeit Pausanias´, präsentiert(Kap. B: „Zusammenfassende Zeugnisse"). Darauf folgen die topographischen Themenkomplexe „Heiligtümer" (Kap. C), „Öffentliche Bauten" (Kap. D), „Bildwerke" (Kap. E), „Horoi" (Kap. F), „Gewerbe, Markt und Geschäfte" (Kap. G), „Werkstätten" (Kap. H), „Häuser/Wohnungen und Grundstücke" (Kap. J), „Verkehrswege" (Kap. K) sowie „Friedhof und Gräber" (Kap. L). Der letztgenannte Punkt stellt dank der günstigen, aber auch Anlass zu zahlreichen Kontroversen bietenden Quellenlage das größte Kapitel dar. Grund für den Umfang dieses Teils ist die Besprechung des ebenfalls mit dem Begriff „Kerameikos" versehenen Staatsfriedhofs der Kriegsgefallenen. Dieser stellte für die Polis Athen einen der wichtigsten Erinnerungsorte dar und wurde in zahlreichen historischen und literarischen Quellen thematisiert.

An viele der genannten Orte sind Tätigkeiten gebunden, die eines größeren Aktionsradius bedürfen und daher über deren geographische Grenzen hinausreichen. Dies gilt für Handlungen in den Bereichen „Kultische Vorgänge" (Kap. M), „Ausbildung und Unterricht" (Kap. P), „Freizeit" (Kap. Q), „Prostitution" (Kap. R). Auch historische „Einzelereignisse" (Kap. S), wie die Staatsempfänge Attalos´ I. oder des Pompeius werden besprochen. Im Anschluss daran folgen die „Testimonien zum Begriff ‚Kerameis' und Überlegungen zum Ursprung des Namens" (Kap. T), die auf die Töpferproduktion und den eponymen Heros Keramos eingehen.

Die abschließende Zusammenfassung betont das durch die Koexistenz der verschiedenen Nutzungen facettenreiche Bild des Areals. Die Frage nach einer möglicherweise staatlich geplanten Geländekonzeption und damit verbundenen Eigentumsverhältnissen, beispielsweise staatlich verwaltete Kriegergräber unmittelbar neben Werkstätten oder anderen Betrieben in Privatbesitz, kann mangels adäquater Quellen nicht geklärt werden.

In zwei Appendices finden zum einen die „Heilige Straße und Örtlichkeiten an derselben" (Kap. Y, Appendix 1), zum anderen „Zeugnisse mit unklarem Bezug auf den inneren Kerameikos oder die Agora" (Kap. Z, Appendix 2) Erwähnung. Am Ende des Bandes stehen der Allgemeine Index, der etwas ausführlicher und weitrechender angelegt sein könnte, sowie ein Index der Textstellen und ein Index der Inschriften aufgeführt. Weiterhin wurden zwei Pläne beigefügt, die auf dem fundierten Kartenmaterial von John Travlos²und Ursula Knigge³ basieren. Es handelt sich zum einen um einen Gesamtplan des Gebiets von der Stadtmauer bis hin zur Akademie Platons; gezeigt wird die moderne Bebauung mit den angenommenen und teilweise auch gesichert lokalisierten antiken Stätten. Zum anderen gibt ein Plan den Zustand des Kerameikos-Grabungsgeländes wieder.

Präsentationsform: Alle im Buch präsentierten schriftlichen Zeugnisse werden sowohl in Originalsprache als auch in deutscher Übersetzung vorgelegt. Lobend hervorzuheben ist, dass sie datiert werden und, wenn bekannt, auch ihr historischer Bezugspunkt angegeben wird. Bei epigraphischen Quellen werden zudem der Auffindungsort und der mutmaßliche ursprüngliche Standort des Inschriftenträgers angeführt, um die gerade bei Inschriften häufig vorkommende Verschleppung und Wiederverwendung offensichtlich zu machen. Des Weiteren werden die zugehörigen epigraphischen Quelleneditionen angeführt. Die Angabe der verwendeten Editionen von literarischen und historischen Quellen fehlt in Band II. Wünschenswert wäre bei den epigraphischen Zeugnissen zudem die Erwähnung des aktuellen Aufbewahrungsortes und der Inventarnummer gewesen.

Besonderes Augenmerk legen die Bearbeiter auf die schriftlich überlieferten Orte, welche mit dem archäologischen Befund übereingebracht werden können. Unklarheiten oder Widersprüche bei der Identifikation dieser Örtlichkeiten werden dabei anhand der bis 2011 erschienenen Forschungsliteratur, die abgesehen von wenigen Titeln recht vollständig scheint,⁴ kritisch diskutiert.

Einzelne Kritikpunkte: In der Intention, Ergebnisse einer kritischen Quellenanalyse mit archäologischen Befunden zu verbinden, liegen auch die wenigen Kritikpunkte an diesem Werk begründet. Die frühen Grabungen im Kerameikos, im Exo Kerameikos und entlang der modernen Piräus-Straße am Ende des 19. und Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts wurden in zahlreichen kurzen Grabungsberichten vorgelegt. Gerade damals wurden durch das großflächige Freilegen zahlreiche Entdeckungen gemacht, die aufgrund ungenügender Grabungsdokumentation unpräzise publiziert wurden. Für eine Verzahnung dieser Ergebnisse mit den Schriftzeugnissen ist daher eine genaue Kenntnis dieser frühen Grabungstätigkeiten unabdingbar.

Die angedeutete Problematik wird am Beispiel des temenos der Artemis Soteira (Kap. C III) deutlich. Eine genauere Analyse der Beschaffenheit der dort gefundenen Inschriftenträger macht eine Verbindung von Artemis Ariste und Kalliste mit Artemis Soteira unmöglich. Der unterschiedliche Erhaltungszustand der einzelnen Textträger zeigt an, dass allein die vollständig erhaltenen Inschriften für Artemis Soteira unweit des Auffindungsortes innerhalb des sogenannten temenos der Hekate aufgestellt waren und keine Zerstörung und anschließende Verlagerung erfahren haben. Das einzige dort gefundene Inschriftenfragment mit Bezug zu Ariste und Kalliste wurde hingegen verschleppt, weitere Zeugnisse für diese Gottheiten kamen in mehreren hundert Metern Entfernung zutage.

Zudem fällt die Nichtberücksichtigung mehrerer Inschriften, die im Grabungsgelände des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts gefunden wurden und Informationen zum Kerameikos liefern, auf. Man vermisst die von Christian Habicht⁵ vorgelegte Ephebenweihung an den Heros Mounichos für einen Sieg im Fackellauf. Sie hätte bei den Beiträgen zu den Fackelläufen (Kap. M I), dem Pompeion (Kap. D VI)oder aber in Band I beim Gymnasium des Hermes (Kap. D III) eingereiht werden können.

Genauso hätte die von Habicht an gleicher Stelle publizierte Ehreninschrift für einen Hipparchen aufgenommen werden können. Deren Fehlen zeigt, dass ein Eintrag zu Reiterei vollkommen ausgelassen wurde. Bereits in Band I wäre eine Besprechung des Amtslokals der Hipparchen auf der Agora „bei den Hermen"⁶ passend gewesen. Nicht berücksichtigte epigraphische Zeugnisse aus den amerikanischen und aus den deutschen Grabungen⁷ sind mit der möglicherweise auf der Kerameikos-Straße vorgenommenen Musterung (dokimasia) der athenischen Reiterei zu verbinden.

Bewertung: Mit den beiden Bänden ist es den Bearbeitern gelungen, die vielfältigen Informationen zur prominenten nordwestlichen Vorstadt Athens klar und strukturiert zu bündeln und dem Leser dadurch die bemerkenswerte Informationsdichte zu diesem Gebiet vor Augen zu führen. Auch die Komplexität eines vielseitig genutzten Areals wird anhand der klaren Gliederung der Bände gut nachvollziehbar. Die Definition einzelner Orte und teilweise auch deren Identifikation anhand von archäologischen Zeugnissen erfolgt separat von der Besprechung der praktizierten Tätigkeiten und stattgefundenen historischen Ereignisse. Für Studien zum Gebiet des Kerameikos stellen beide Bände, abgesehen von den oben angeführten Kritikpunkten im archäologischen Bereich, eine sehr gute Grundlage dar. Die klare Vorgehens- und Präsentationsweise der antiken Schriftzeugnisse erweist sich als vorbildhaft für Studien zu anderen Bereichen der Stadt.

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Notes:

1.   C. Ruggeri – P. Siewert – I. Steffelbauer, Die antiken Schriftzeugnisse über den Kerameikos von Athen I. Der innere Kerameikos, Tyche Sonderband 5/1 (Wien 2007).
2.   J. Travlos, Bildlexikon zur Topographie des antiken Athen (Tübingen 1971).
3.   U. Knigge, Der Kerameikos von Athen. Führung durch Ausgrabungen und Geschichte (Athen 1988).
4.   Nach Auffassung der Rezensentin hätten u. a. auch folgende Titel in einem der beiden Bände genannt werden können: G. v. Alten, "Die Thoranlagen bei der Hagia Triada zu Athen", AM 3, 1878, 28 48. H. Lind, "Ein Hetärenhaus am Heiligen Tor? Der Athener Bau Z und die bei Isaios (6, 20 f.) erwähnte Synoikia Euktemons", Museum Helveticum 45, 1988, 158-169. C. Reinsberg, Ehe, Hetärentum und Knabenliebe im antiken Griechenland (München 1989). H. Lind, Töpfer, Gräber und Hetären. "Der Kerameikos von Athen in neuem Licht", Nürnberger Blätter zur Archäologie 1993, 106-113. A. J. Ammermann, "The Eridanos Valley and the Athenian Agora", AJA 1996, 699-715. J. K. Papadopoulos, "The Original Kerameikos of Athens and the Siting of the Classical Agora", Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 37, 1996, 107 128. M. C. Monaco, Ergasteria. "Impianti artigianali ceramici ad Atene ed" in Attica dal protogeometrico alle soglie dell ´ellenismo, Studia archaeologica 110 (Rom 2000).
5.   C. Habicht, "Neue Inschriften aus dem Kerameikos", AM 1961, 127-148.
6.   Mnesimachos frag.4 PCG: "βαῖν' ἐκ θαλάμων κυπαρισσορόφων ἔξω, Μάνη· στεῖχ' εἰς ἀγορὰν πρὸς τοὺς Ἑρμᾶς, οὗ προσφοιτῶσ' οἱ φύλαρχοι, τούς τε μαθητὰς τοὺς ὡραίους, οὓς ἀναβαίνειν ἐπὶ τοὺς ἵππους μελετᾷ Φείδων καὶ καταβαίνειν."
7.   K. Braun, "Der Dipylon-Brunnen B1. Die Funde", AM 1970, 129-269. J. H. Kroll, "An Archive of the Athenian Cavalry", Hesperia 46,2, 1977, 83-140. G. R. Bugh, "Cavalry Inscriptions from the Athenian Agora", Hesperia 67,1, 1998, 81-90.

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Bernd Steinbock, Social Memory in Athenian Public Discourse: Uses and Meanings of the Past. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2013. Pp. xii, 411. ISBN 9780472118328. $85.00.

Reviewed by Lucia Cecchet, Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz (cecchet@uni-mainz.de; luciacecchet@gmail.com)

Version at BMCR home site

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A memory is the result of a dynamic process, which involves will, emotions and, to a certain extent, creativity. It always and inevitably entails an intervention on the remembered object or event. When remembering is a common act of the members of a community, the factors that are at play in individual memory have to deal with a social dimension. Social remembering presupposes communication, places, and occasions. Above all, it presupposes a reason and a need to remember shared by the community members and prompted by present circumstances. Ancient historians have shown in recent years a growing interest in the question of the formation of a shared image of the past in antiquity and its role in shaping collective identities. In this important work, Steinbock addresses the question of the use of social memory in public discourse and its power of influencing decision-making. The object of research is Athenian social memory – a term used interchangeably with "collective memory" throughout the book (p. 8 n. 24) – about past relations with Thebes and its use in Athenian public discourse of the fifth and fourth centuries BC.

In the introduction, the author explains his notion of social memory in the light of previous research, in particular Thomas,¹ Assmann,² Loraux,³ Gehrke,⁴ Alcock,⁵ Wolpert⁶ and Jung.⁷ Steinbock considers to be objects of social memory not only those that have been transmitted over at least a generation, as Thomas does drawing from Vansina,⁸ but also recent events (p. 23). The choice of Thebes as a case study is motivated by the fact that Athens' relations with its neighbour varied over time from cooperation to intense rivalry and traumatic war experiences, and they are often alluded to in Athenian public discourse. The main sources are the speeches of the orators and those attested by the historians, but the author also makes extensive use of inscriptions and visual arts (notably, the discussion about the west frieze of the temple of Athena Nike on the Acropolis, pp. 193-196, and the metopes of the temple of Zeus in Olympia, p. 229). Steinbock focuses on the way in which individual speakers operated within the Athenian memorial framework so as to convince the audience and influence decision-making. His concept of public discourse builds on Ober's semiotic model of political discourse,⁹ in which public communication is enacted by a system of symbolic references derived from a commonly-shared repository of knowledge and assumptions (pp. 30-31). Drawing from this, Steinbock analyses the use of social memory in rhetorical strategies, focusing both on the cases in which the speakers make use of consolidated collective memories, and on those in which they challenge the master narrative of the polis (the term "master narrative" is borrowed throughout the book from Forsdyke,¹⁰ see p. 20 n. 86).

Chapter 1 analyses the different carriers of social memory. In agreement with a well-developed tradition of studies, Steinbock defines funeral orations as the most powerful means of consolidation of a shared image of the past and self-representation of the polis, but he includes also a good discussion of tragedies, cults, rituals and festivals as a means for transmitting memory. Though official celebrations contributed to consolidating shared views of the past, he is keen on stressing that social memory was not preserved in a monolithic and univocal way. The Athenians were members of different memory communities, such as tribes, demes, families and symposia, which could preserve versions of the past not otherwise attested or conflicting with the polis tradition, just as citizens from other poleis contributed to circulating different memorial repertories in Athens. Neither inscriptions nor monuments served a static function: their content and place of display contributed to the construction of a public discourse on the past that could be constantly reshaped over time. Lastly, the author discusses the role of the Assembly and the law courts as privileged settings for the manifestation and renegotiation of memory, which is the main focus of the book.

Chapter 2 argues that the memory of the Theban support for the Persians in 480-479 was used to portray Thebes as a counter-image of Athens: while the Athenians presented themselves as the saviours of Greece, they described the Thebans as betrayers, treacherous by nature, hence prone to repeat their betrayal in the future. The memorialisation of the Theban medism started immediately after the Persian Wars, and it was further promoted by two sets of events: first, the Plataean-Theban conflicts, culminating in the two destructions of Plataea by Thebes, in 427 and in 373 respectively; second, the several threats of new "barbarian" invasions, either from the Persians or the Macedonians, in the course of the fourth century.

In Chapter 3, the author analyses the way in which the mythical burial of the Seven functioned as a powerful means of celebration of Athenian generosity, further strengthening the image of Thebes as an outrageous city. The bellicose version of the myth was elaborated soon after the Persian Wars and it received a boost after the battle of Delium in 424, when the Thebans did not allow the Athenians to recover their dead. In the light of this event, Steinbock discusses the representation of the myth both in tragedy and in visual arts. He then analyses its use in political discourse on the basis of examples from Herodotus, Isocrates and Xenophon, showing how in each case individual speakers could emphasise, downplay or even omit aspects of the myth in order to legitimise their points and to exhort political action.

Chapter 4 explores the memory of the Theban help for the Athenian democrats in 404/3. Arguing for the historicity of the Theban decrees in support of the exiled Athenian democrats, Steinbock explains Thebes' sudden change of policy in terms of intra-Theban power struggle, e.g. the ascending to power of Ismenias' pro-Athenian faction. He argues that, in order to convince the Thebans to help the Athenians, Ismenias used arguments from Theban social memory, recalling the collaboration between the Theban-born hero Heracles and Athena. The episode of the capture of Phyle by the democrats became one of the symbols of democratic restoration and a fundamental point of reference for the memory of the Theban support. This memory was probably also kept alive by the Thebans who were granted Athenian citizenship together with the other foreigners involved in the seizure of Phyle, as attested in an honorary decree from the Acropolis (IG II² 10). References to these events were used in political and diplomatic discourse on several occasions in the fourth century: by the Thebans' cry for help in Athens against the Spartans in 395 and 382; probably in 339 by Demosthenes in the attempt to promote an alliance with Thebes against Philip; and in 335 by the Theban refugees' plead for asylum after Alexander crushed the Theban revolt. Steinbock convincingly argues that these events brought the memory of the past cooperation with Thebes to the forefront of discussion in Athens, and prompted the Athenians to even help Thebes regardless of considerations of self-interest.

In the last chapter, the author explores the debate about the eradication of Athens proposed by Thebes and other poleis in 405/4, and its persistent memory in the fourth century. The frequent allusions by the Athenian orators to this past threat are discussed in light of the impact of traumatic experiences in shaping social memory, which the author derives from the Neo-Freudian approach to memory studies, as explained in the introduction (p. 18). Further, he argues that the Greeks were familiar with the concept of city destruction both from historical practice and from mythical paradigms. He makes the case that the alleged annihilation of the city of Crisa in the early sixth century became part of the collective knowledge of the recurring elements of city-eradication, namely destruction of houses, enslavement of citizens, and dedication of the land to the gods. As on other occasions, the decision to spare Athens in 404 was determined not only by calculations of self-interest, but also by arguments of social memory, such as the awareness of the contribution of Athens in the Persian Wars.

In the conclusion, the author sums up the results of his research and the main structure of his arguments in each chapter. The bibliography, index locorum and general index follow.

A few remarks can be made about this excellent work. As the author makes clear in the introduction, he considers to be objects of social memory also recent events. However, chronological distance is no trivial matter, and the dynamics at play in shaping the memory of an event that happened more than one hundred years before are not always the same as those concerning the memory of an event of ten years earlier, in which the protagonists are still participants in the memory community. Steinbock seems overall to be well aware of this, but one would expect that in the discussion of the events of 395, in which Thebes recalled the support given to Athens in 404/3 (pp. 248-253), more attention would be given to the narrow time-gap separating the parties involved from the recalled events. The memory of recent events presumably implies a degree of simplification and stereotyping different from events that are very distant in time.

Further, Steinbock seems to regard polis ideology as something in conflict with the ideology of individuals and subgroups. Drawing from Herman's study,¹¹ Steinbock claims "the social institution of xenia continued to exists throughout the classical period, underneath the superimposed polis ideology" (p. 258). He assumes that polis ideology was defined by communal interest, hence suffocating personal liberty. However, this perspective has been questioned by recent works, such as Liddel 2007 (on personal liberty and civic obligations in classical Athens)¹² and Vlassopoulos 2007 (more generally on the problems of the "polis approach" to the study of Greek History);¹³ neither is included in the bibliography. The fact that personal bonds could prompt the Athenians to make choices that did not line up with the alliances of the city and that this was accepted within the frame of a legitimate institution shows that some aspects of private life were valued above public and political life.

These few remarks do not diminish the value of this book as a very important contribution both to studies of social memory and to those of ancient rhetoric and political discourse. While many works have been devoted to the impact of the Persian Wars in shaping collective memory and identity, Steinbock ventures into the less explored field of the use of memory in the context of public communication for influencing decision-making. The choice to monitor a specific case study allows the author to explore in depth the reshaping of the past both over time and in relation to the rhetoric goal of the moment. The most interesting aspects are the analysis of the speakers' capability of engaging with alternative interpretations of past events challenging "established memories", and the convincing demonstration that arguments from social memory were decisive factors influencing common decisions (though Steinbock somewhat overstates his argument when claiming that political communities "very seldom base their foreign policy decisions on cost-benefit analyses", p. 330 n. 159). The parallels with contemporary political discourse are illuminating – in particular, George Bush's use of the memory of America's role in World War II in his speech to the troops in Iraq on December 14, 2008 (p. 1 f.), and the persistent memory of Morgenthau's 1944 plan of turning Germany into an agrarian state in German historical consciousness and political discourse during the 1980s and 1990s (pp. 298-230).

The book is very carefully edited. The only mistake noted by the reviewer occurs in the final bibliography, in which the publication year of Wilson's book is 2010 instead of 2000.

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Notes:

1.   R. Thomas, Oral Tradition and Written Record in Classical Athens. Cambridge 1989.
2.   J. Assmann, Das kulturelle Gedäcthnis: Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen. Munich 1992.
3.   N. Loraux, The Invention of Athens: The Funeral Oration in the Classical City. Cambridge, MA 1986.
4.   H.-J. Gehrke, Mythos, History, and Collective Identity: Uses of the Past in Ancient Greece and Beyond in N. Luraghi (ed.), The Historian's Craft in the Age of Herodotus. Oxford 2001.
5.   S. E. Alcock, Archaeologies of the Greek Past: Landscapes, Monuments and Memories. Cambridge 2002.
6.   A. Wolpert, Remembering Defeat: Civic War and Civic Memory in Ancient Athens. Baltimore 2002.
7.   M. Jung, Marathon und Plataiai: Zwei Perserschlachten als "lieux de mémoire" im antiken Griechenland. Göttingen 2006.
8.   J. Vansina, Oral Tradition as History. Madison, Wisconsin 1985.
9.   J. Ober, Mass and Elite in Democratic Athens: Rhetoric, Ideology and the Power of the People. Princeton 1989.
10.   S. Forsdyke, Exile, Ostracism, and Democracy: The Politics of Expulsion in Ancient Greece. Princeton 2005.
11.   G. Herman, Ritualized Friendship and the Greek City. Cambridge 1987.
12.   P.P. Liddel, Civic Obligation and Individual Liberty in Ancient Athens. Oxford 2007.
13.   K. Vlassopoulos, Unthinking the Greek Polis: Ancient Greek History beyond Eurocentrism. Cambridge 2007.

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