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Learn to Read Greek. By Andrew Keller and Stephanie Russell. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2012. Part I: Textbook. Pp. xxiv + 384. Paper, $45.00. ISBN 978-0-300-11589-5. Workbook. Pp. xi + 632. Paper, $32.00. ISBN 978-0-300-11591-8. Part II. Textbook. Pp. xvii + 512. Paper, $45.00. ISBN 978-0-300-11590-1. Workbook. Pp. ix + 544. Paper, $32.00. ISBN 978-0-300-11592-5.

Reviewed by Wilfred E. Major, Louisiana State University

This latest entry among beginning textbooks for Greek continues in the vein of expansively detailed presentations geared toward making students highly sophisticated readers of Classical Greek. Teachers who consider this book should be certain that this approach matches their teaching style and students’ learning abilities. Teachers who find this level of detail overwhelming may yet find the supplementary workbooks a valuable resource.

Keller and Russell offer across two volumes comprising sixteen chapters, each with very full and precise presentations of grammar and reading samples, mostly gnomic utterances (the “short readings” from Chapter 3 onward) and samples of mostly high literary and philosophical texts (“longer readings,” usually a short paragraph, from Chapter 6 on). These selections form a trove of interesting material, and teachers of intermediate or advanced Greek classes might find them valuable for review or as sight passages. Unfortunately the readings are often not congruent with what students have been learning and practicing in the grammatical material. For example, the first readings (seven short sentences) conclude Chapter 3, where students have been introduced to the present, imperfect and future tenses, indicative and infinitive moods, in the active, middle and passive voices, of –ω verbs. All the verbs in the reading, however, are present indicative (except for one aorist, which is glossed). The sentences do manage to work a range of noun forms (Chapter 2 introduces nouns of the first declension, including variations, and the second declension, along with the full definite article), although there is nothing like the range of the fourteen case usages described in Chapters 1 and 2. A couple of instances of κακός constitute their exposure to the adjective forms (also included in Chapter 2). Even more extreme is the introduction of the paradigm of οὗτος (p. 48), which does not appear in a reading until Chapter 7 (p. 233) and not with any regularity until Chapter 8 (pp. 261ff.). The correspondence of the vocabulary lists (one in each chapter) to the readings is no better. By Chapter 3, students have met 98 words in the vocabulary lists (many with extensive notes), but only 25 of these (+ the definite article) are used in the first readings, even though the authors have to gloss an additional ten words so students can read even these seven sentences.

Keller and Russell present a phenomenal amount of detail, but narrowly and sometimes overlooking other crucial details. Thus they include lunate sigmas (in alternate chapters) and Ionic dialectical forms, but Koine Greek (and most post-Classical Greek) is kept to a minimum. Keller and Russell boast that they used the TLG search engine to root out vocabulary items that are rare in Attic Greek (pp. xv–xvi), but they have given little thought to high-frequency material. Thus students learn 2nd-declension nouns in Chapter 2 and begin seeing the regular noun οἶνος in the readings starting in Chapter 3 and repeatedly thereafter in Part 1 (Chapters 1–9), which is fine, except that οἶνος does not appear in a vocabulary list until Part 2 (Chapter 12). Many high-frequency words are delayed until Part 2, presented alongside much less common material. Excessive schematization sometimes trumps what is in students’ best interests as beginners. Thus Chapter 3 presents the relatively rare future passive forms before Chapter 5 introduces the very common forms of εἰμί, and common –μι verbs are delayed to Part 2, mostly in the final three chapters, meaning that students meet forms like the aorist optative passive before they meet the simplest forms of δίδωμι, τίθημι, ἵστημι, and ἵημι. Granted that this is a problem found in a number of beginning Greek textbooks, but that is no reason to repeat the mistake in a new one.

To Keller and Russell’s credit, they have also put their attention to detail and thoroughness to good use in the supplementary workbooks. Numerous exercises provide opportunities to practice forms and translate (both Greek to English and English to Greek). While the drills are numbered and keyed to the chapters in the grammar, many of them can stand alone as exercises for practice or review. Generally there is a shortage of such straightforward practice and drill resources for Greek, so teachers seeking such materials can consider the workbooks even if they are not using the textbook.

The present reviewer has not had the opportunity to use this book in the classroom, but two teachers have generously offered their perspectives for this review. Independently they agree that students successful with these books will be formidable readers of Greek. Conversely, the books can be unforgiving for students who do not control the details. They also agree that chapters are of unequal length and difficulty. Ultimately, preference depends on the value a teacher puts on the detail work. Those who favor the comprehensive, detailed presentations in beginning Greek textbooks should consider the presentation in this book. Teachers put off by detail will find nothing attractive here.

Finally, there is a broader issue to consider. In an age when students look to their phones and tablets for information, these books dwarf all other Greek textbooks in mass (2,000+ pages across four volumes, all 8½” by 11”) and weight (more than 10 lbs. total). Inside, despite the efforts of the press, the graphic presentation of the grammatical material, no matter how clearly demarcated and presented, is not an appealing read. It is the great challenge of the digital age to be faced with huge amounts of data and then to find a mechanism for navigating it in a meaningful way. Keller and Russell have embedded an enormous amount of valuable data here. Perhaps they will have an opportunity in the future to embed it in an interface that will make it accessible to a wider range of teachers and students.

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Greek and Roman Animal Sacrifice: Ancient Victims, Modern Observers. Edited by Christopher A. Faraone and F. S. Naiden. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Pp.xiv + 209. Hardcover, £55.00/$95.00. ISBN 978-1-107-01112-0.

Reviewed by Sarah Hitch, University of Oxford

Is animal sacrifice the central act in Greek and Roman religion, or is this a modern construct borne out of Christian criticism of pagan practices? So the editors begin their reassessment of the theoretical interpretations of ancient Greek and Roman sacrifice predominant in the 20th century. The emphasis on sacrifice as the center of Greek religious practice in the models of Walter Burkert and the scholars working with Jean-Pierre Vernant in Paris is the main issue addressed by the eight papers in this collection. The papers are organized into pairs in four topical sections, concluding with a brief “Afterword” by Clifford Ando. This volume joins a series of edited collections on this topic; like those edited by Pirenne-Delforge and Prescendi (Kernos 2011) and Knust and Várhelyi (Oxford University Press, 2011), the papers cover both Greek and Roman sacrifice. Indeed, one of the criticisms often levied at the prevailing theories of Burkert and Vernant is the exclusive focus on Classical Greek culture; this volume has a much wider scope anchored within an overview of the history of scholarship on the topic.

Part I, “Modern Historiography,” establishes the limits of theoretical objectivity through a penetrating look at the social contexts in which the great theories of sacrifice were developed. Bruce Lincoln locates early interpretations of sacrifice as part of sectarian French discourse between the French revolution and the end of the second world war (“From Bergaigne to Meuli: How Animal Sacrifice Became a Hot Topic”). Lincoln points to the French political milieu in which Hubert and Mauss wrote their study on sacrifice, which they intended as a “political intervention” (15), situated by Lincoln in the development of the “Aryan” and “Semite” opposition that colored much of the contemporary scholarship in religious studies. Fritz Graf picks up the thread with a discussion of the wave of new theories in the wake of the second world war (“One Generation after Burkert and Girard: Where are the Great Theories?”). Graf illustrates how J. Z. Smith’s interpretation of sacrifice as a “meditation on the domestication of animals” (44) is a sensible theory with much to offer the discipline, but without the following of the more sensational approaches of Burkert, Girard and Vernant. Although Jaś Elsner’s chapter on “Sacrifice in Late Roman Art” comes in Part III of the volume, his richly illustrated test of the application of grand theories to the wide variations in visual representations of sacrifice in third-century art echoes many of the points raised by Lincoln and Graf. Based on the virtual disappearance of animal sacrifice in the decoration of public monuments throughout the empire, with some notable exceptions in North Africa and in Jewish iconography, Elsner concludes that the centrality of animal sacrifice in theoretical interpretations of ancient Roman practice reflects the importance of sacrifice to Christian polemicists rather than historical fact. All three contributions raise the importance of perspective, both ancient and modern, an aspect commented on by Ando: “virtually all reflections on cult surviving from the Greek and Roman worlds have the status of interpretation” (197).

Part II, “Greek and Roman Practice,” moves from hierarchies of scholarship to the hierarchies of participation in public sacrifices. Naiden gives a functionalist critique of the evidence for sacrificial feasts as a method of food distribution in Greek cities (“Blessèd are the parasites”). He outlines the varying modes of meat distribution, emphasizing the social hierarchy expressed by honorary portions of meat reserved for special participants, often pieces set aside for gods which were then appropriated by priests. While Naiden focuses on the dynamics of human participation in Greek sacrifice, the divine portion is outlined in John Scheid’s chapter, “Roman Animal Sacrifice and the System of Being.” Drawing on the inscribed records of the fratres arvales and evidence for libations without sacrifice, Scheid shows the theological hierarchy implicit in the Roman offering system. Variations in scale of offering reflect differentiation of divine status, such as between the Olympian gods and the smaller offerings given to deified emperors by the Arvals. Libations without animal sacrifice may fall on the small side of the offering scale, but still reflect the importance of ceremonial sharing with gods in recognition of their superior status. These papers make a nice pair, although Scheid’s presentation of evidence seems abbreviated in comparison with the voluminous case put forward by Naiden for the varying distribution of meat to human participants. In this way, even within a framework explicitly designed to criticize and analyze the sociological trend in twentieth century scholarship, the theological arguments still take a back seat.

Part III covers “Visual Representation” and Part IV “Literary representation.” These papers mostly address the much-discussed notion that sacrifice is central because it is violent. With reference to Athenian sculpture, Richard Neer (“Sacrificing Stones: On Some Sculpture, Mostly Athenian”) questions the centrality of sacrifice per se, proposing that manipulations of sacrifice as image, such as the “Procne and Itys” statue group from the Acropolis, suggest the centrality stems rather from “everything that went on around sacrifice” (119). A compelling aspect of his argument is the relative marginalization of sacrifice in comparison to sacred buildings and decorations, which are demonstrations of immortal and mortal relationships on a scale which completely overshadows the theoretical centrality of sacrifice. In Part IV, the violence of sacrifice leads to the pleasure of eating in Redfield’s discussion, “Animal Sacrifice in Comedy: an Alternative Point of View.” Redfield revives Vernant’s thesis that sacrifice is a prelude to meat-eating in the context of New Comedy, which generally depicts social harmony through feasting. He critically applies Vernant’s structural interpretation of sacrifice as expressive of the cosmic order to the motif in Old Comedy, which is as transgressive as New Comedy is affirming. Most notable in Redfield’s essay is his comparison of Hesiod’s aetiology of sacrifice in the Theogony with the book of Genesis; whereas the Hebrew narrative illustrates divine sanction of meat eating through sacrifice, the relative silence of Hesiod on the link between sacrifice, meat eating and divine will opens the doors for the problematization of sacrifice as “murder.” In the final chapter, “Animal Sacrifice in Greek Tragedy: Ritual, Metaphor, Problematizations,” Albert Henrichs pulls together the relevant descriptions in tragedy and the schools of interpretation to which they gave rise, concluding that, although corrupted or failed sacrifices are frequent signposts of disorder in tragedy, the distinction between sacrifice and murder is carefully maintained. He points out the popularity of tragic representations in theories on the topic, without consideration of the context.

The editors have gathered together essays by senior scholars with long experience in the discipline and the result is mature and concise, particularly their coverage of the history of scholarship on the topic. The individual essays are highly polished and extremely well written, providing a sophisticated valediction to the prevailing theories of the 20th century.