Greg Woolf on What’s New in Ancient Rome

Nice little video on why there’s still so much to learn in our field:

… and Greg Woolf also talks about what sustained the empire:

Greg Woolf also has a post at the OUP blog:

Ancient Math and Hellentistic Poetry

Interesting item from a Stanford press release:

Like novelists, mathematicians are creative authors. With diagrams, symbolism, metaphor, double entendre and elements of surprise, a good proof reads like a good story.

Reviel Netz, a professor of classics and, by courtesy, of philosophy, is especially interested in exploring the literary dimensions of the textual artifacts left by the likes of Archimedes and Euclid. Netz, one of the world’s preeminent experts on the works of Archimedes, sees proofs as narratives that lead the reader turn by turn through an unfolding story that ends with a mathematical solution.

In his book Ludic Proof: Greek Mathematics and the Alexandrian Aesthetic, Netz reveals the stunning stylistic similarities between Hellenistic poetry and mathematical texts from the same era.

Earlier this spring, Netz and other scholars engaged in the study of mathematics as text gathered at Stanford to discuss this growing area of academic inquiry.

[the article then goes into interview format]

How did you become interested in exploring the idea of mathematics as literature?

I was always interested in the ways in which mathematics – or science in general – is concretely experienced: not the abstract logic of it but the heartbeat-by-heartbeat sense of getting the piece of knowledge through one’s eyes, hands, thoughts. This gives rise very naturally to the thought of thinking of the taking-in of a mathematical text alongside the taking-in of a text in general, which is something literary scholars are sometimes interested in.

You have said that a math proof is more focused on the properties of text than any other human endeavor, short of poetry.

Mathematics is structured around texts – proofs – that have very rich protocols in terms of their textual arrangement, whether in the use of extra-verbal elements – diagrams – in the very layout, in the use of a particular formulaic language, in the structuring of the text. And its success or failure depends entirely on features residing in the text itself. It is really an activity very powerfully concentrated around the manipulation of written documents, more perhaps than anywhere else in science, and comparable, then, to modern poetry.

Can parallels be drawn between pre-modern mathematics and pre-modern literature?

Of course, and my book Ludic Proof: Greek Mathematics and the Alexandrian Aesthetic is precisely about the manner in which surprise, remarkable juxtapositions and the hybridization of genres are key norms for both mathematics and poetry in the culture of the Hellenistic Mediterranean.

How does an aesthetic examination of a mathematical text differ from studying the mathematical information?

When you study the information, you may translate the contents to whichever form suits you and consider its validity, axiomatic underpinning, etc; when you study its aesthetics, you must remain focused on the text as perceived historically.

How do you define or identify literary-like elements like metaphors in a mathematical proof?

Metaphor is fairly standard in mathematics. Mathematics can only become truly interesting and original when it involves the operation of seeing something as something else – a pair of similarly looking triangles, say, as a site for an abstract proportion; a diagonal crossing through the set of all real numbers.

You have said that a proof can be seen as having a complex narrative and even elements of surprise much like how a story unfolds. Can you give me an example?

You tell me, “I’m going to find the volume of a sphere.” And then you do nothing of the kind, going instead through an array of unrelated results – a cone here, a funny polygon there, various proportion results and general problems; then you make a thought experiment that shows how a sphere is like a series of cones produced from a certain funny polygon and, lo and behold, all the results do allow one a very quick determination of the volume of the sphere. Here is surprise and narrative. That’s Archimedes’ “Sphere and Cylinder” proof; it’s a typical mechanism in his works. Other authors are often much more sedate and progress in a more stately manner; this is Euclid’s approach.

Why is there a growing interest in studying the “aesthetic dimension of human endeavor,” and why is this a valuable course of study, especially in relation to mathematics?

There is an interest in the embodied experience of various fields, which gives rise to an interest in aesthetic. The unfortunate thing is that many scholars who study culture share this feeling but instead of actually engaging in the study of the aesthetic of a given culture – which would mean, essentially, a study of the formal properties of a historically situated group of artifacts – they engage in the ideas people had about aesthetics.

Would you say there is an art to being a mathematician?

Yes, it’s a cliché really, nothing I came up with. Mathematicians are always intensely aware of the aesthetic dimension of their own craft. I basically just try to say this is no mere waxing lyrical, there’s a concrete reality that needs to be studied.

Netz has been often mentioned at rogueclassicism for his work with the Archimedes Palimpsest …

William Murray Looks at Naval Warfare in the Ancient Mediterranean

Nice feature in USF News on William Murray’s ongoing research:

Shipping and Greek culture connect University of South Florida Professor William Murray and Aristotle Onassis, a legendary titan in the shipping industry – a connection born of Murray’s lifelong love of sailing and the Onassis legacy.

More than three decades of research about some of the world’s oldest ships made Murray the perfect choice to launch a new book series sponsored by the prestigious Onassis Foundation in cooperation with Oxford University Press. The new Onassis Series in Hellenic Culture features books on topics presented in the Foundation’s highly-respected University Seminar Program, which selected Murray as a professor in 2007.

Others selected for the series include Professors Alain Bresson, University of Chicago; Simon Goldhill, University of Cambridge; Edith Hall, University of London; Mary Lefkowitz, Wellesley College; Henry Maguire, Johns Hopkins University; Claudia Rapp, UCLA; and Tim Whitmarsh from Corpus Christi College, Oxford. Each author is an eminent authority on an aspect of Hellenic or Byzantine history or culture.

In March, Murray introduced the first volume of this new series to a standing-room only audience in the Atrium of the Olympic Cultural Center in Manhattan. His groundbreaking book, The Age of the Titans: The Rise and Fall of the Great Hellenistic Navies, tells the story of the world’s first naval arms race. He explains, using fascinating new insights, how powerful kings built warships that were longer than football fields and crewed by thousands of men.

Murray, The Mary and Gus Stathis Professor of Greek History, in the Department of History at USF, always tries to marry archaeology with history, particularly as concerns the sea and maritime culture. That pursuit has led him to numerous archeological projects in Greece, Israel and Turkey, on land and underwater.

Having immersed himself in examining the artifacts and details of life from ancient Greece and Rome, Murray speaks with great authority. His love of the subject infuses his descriptions of the period with the kind of enthusiasm that makes his students feel he’s reporting from experience.

He’s particularly fascinated by the warships. Though none have survived in their entirety, shipwrecks have provided important pieces of evidence to support descriptions recorded from that era.

“We know that the largest weighed hundreds of tons and were crewed by more than a thousand men,” Murray said. “An important feature was the ship’s bow ram, a large bronze warhead of extraordinary workmanship and technical sophistication.”

He traces the roots of the naval arms race to slightly before 400 BC, when warships were first used to support siege warfare, attacking one another in prow-to-prow collisions. The game changer came in 332 BC.

“When Alexander used his navy to attack the island city of Tyre, it was as if he dropped an atomic bomb,” Murray said. “He used ships fitted with artillery and siege machinery to pound the city walls and break through the harbor defenses in ways that astounded both his friends and enemies. Thereafter, naval warfare was never the same.

“Alexander owed his success to his father Philip II, who had put together an ‘army corps of engineers’ whose R&D efforts jump-started the evolution to enormous vessels armed at the bow with ponderous bronze rams, driven by hundreds of oarsmen seated on multiple levels.”

When asked what drove such military research, Murray said, “policymakers and need. Phillip challenged his engineers to shorten his sieges of coastal cities and they responded by drawing up the plans that his son put into practice at Tyre. Alexander’s use of warships as integral parts of a new naval siege unit was revolutionary.”

Past researchers have focused their efforts on the big ships themselves – theorizing how they were rowed – but Murray wanted to know the answer to another question, namely, “what were big ships built to achieve?”

To get the answer, he combed through ancient texts and became more and more convinced that concrete strategic objectives drove the invention and development of larger than normal galleys. “The answer was so simple,” he said, “I wondered why no one else had come up with it before. The big ships were developed to attack and defend coastal cities – to literally bash through physical barriers strung across harbor mouths – and not to participate in duels with other big ships in set naval battles.”

A chance string of discoveries by others – one in 1913, another in 1980 – followed by a few “eureka” moments of his own started Murray on this line of reasoning.

While a graduate student at the American School of Classical Studies in Greece, he saw the partially excavated, overgrown weed-filled site of an ancient victory monument. It had been built by Augustus to commemorate his victory over Anthony and Cleopatra in the famous Actian War. More than 200,000 troops and 800 ships are said to have taken part in that historic fight for control of the Roman Empire.

“Overlooking the battle zone, on the side of a hill where Augustus had pitched his tent, one can still see the ghostly outlines of warship rams preserved in the stone facade of the monument,” Murray said.

When he first saw the site in 1973, he recognized its importance but was unable to explain how oddly shaped holes in the facade held bronze warheads from the enemy fleet. The key was pulled from the sea seven years later in 1980, when an intact warship ram was found near Haifa, Israel.

“At the time, I was helping to excavate Herod’s harbor at Caesarea,” Murray said, “and someone casually suggested I hop on the bus up to Haifa to see what they’d found.” Murray smiled as he recalled the moment when he first saw what is now known as the Athlit Ram. “Someone threw a switch on the light bulb in my head and I experienced the biggest eureka moment of my professional life.” Thereafter he knew how the rams were mounted in the peculiar holes on Augustus’ victory monument.

Murray was now certain that the wall displayed 37 warheads cut by the victor from the bows of Antony’s and Cleopatra’s biggest ships. “The number surely represented a tithe or 10 percent dedication from the 370 warships that Augustus captured during the war,” Murray explained.

The holes also exhibited a range of sizes, and all held much larger rams than the one from Israel, which weighed half a ton.

“Anthony and Cleopatra clearly revived the big ship phenomenon after a period when big ships were being used less and less, just as the ancient histories tell us,” Murray said. “And their defeat at Actium spelled the end of an era in naval history.”

Faced with the size, weight, and raw power these rams represented, Murray began to question old theories and formulate new answers. The ram from Israel and the enormous warheads from Actium were telling a new story and Murray wanted to piece it together.

He read all he could about ancient warships, known by different names that referred to their relative oar power – the most popular being “threes,” “fours,” and “fives,” the smallest being “ones,” the largest a “forty.” Murray gathered the evidence for their different crew sizes, the armaments they carried, and their characteristics in battle. But he wanted to know more. He began to question a lot of assumptions and presumptions historians had made up to this point.

Hints and clues would come from some of history’s most colorful leading characters: not only Alexander the Great, and his father Phillip II of Macedon, but also the generals who fought for his empire after he died in 323. These included men like Antigonus “One Eye,” Demetrius “The Besieger of Cities,” and a long line of Ptolemies, including Cleopatra VII and her Roman ally Marcus Antonius.

The precise plans of these last two have been the subject of speculation since the period of their infamous love affair and war with Augustus Caesar, then known as Octavian.

Dio Cassius, a Greek historian who lived two centuries after their defeat, wrote that the pair intended to invade Italy and oust Octavian and his men from power. Later historians thought Cassius was speculating. Murray’s conclusions about big ship navies and their uses, however, support Dio’s assertion and challenge long-held assumptions about the pair’s ultimate objectives.

“When I started the book, I did not intend to say anything new about Actium, but when I got to this point of the narrative, the big ships made no sense unless Antony and Cleopatra really planned to invade Italy. Otherwise, we must conclude they were ignorant of three centuries of naval history.”

But this was only part of the story. Murray was not entirely satisfied with historians’ other assumptions about how big ships were used in battle.

“Most everyone agrees that the smaller ships relied on their light weight and superior maneuverability to attack their enemies with ram strikes. But monstrous rams and the big ships they armed must have been used for purposes other than combat in set naval battles.”

It was an ancient handbook that became the lynchpin of his new way of looking at things – the writings of an ancient ‘military consultant’ – Philo of Byzantium. His Compendium of Mechanics provided Murray with the “how-to” book on conducting sieges of coastal cities during the height of the big ship era. It supports Murray’s new assertion that yesterday’s navies used their bow rams not only on other ships but on harbor fortifications – a new idea at the core of Murray’s new book.

Long troubled by the fact that no other scholar came to this conclusion before, he found that Philo’s work was largely unreadable prior to 1920. As a result the document was ignored by 19th and 20th century scholars who formulated the current models of naval power. Thereafter, when a readable text of Philo was published, no one noticed his advice about using big ships to attack cities. This was true until Murray read the text in 1996 and was rewarded with a goldmine of information about the uses of big ships in siege warfare.

According to Murray, much remains to be done. In 2009, for example, he enlisted the help of USF’s Alliance for Integrated Spatial Technologies (AIST) who scanned the Actium Victory Monument with 3D laser scanners.

Working from these data, Murray and a team of computer modelers are creating “virtual rams” to fit the complex holes of the monument.

“With the scan data, we can do some ‘reverse’ engineering to recreate not only the rams, but also the timbers of each warship’s bow,” he said.

The ultimate goal? To conduct crash tests on the different sizes of ships they produce.

Murray eventually hopes to simulate battle maneuvers and thus gain a sense of the physical reality involved in ship attacks on one another – and on land fortifications. When he does, he’ll have even more to share with his fellow scholars at the Onassis Foundation and beyond. This month he’s sharing his research and details from his book during a cruise of the Aegean and will join an expedition in Sicily searching for ancient warship rams.

“When you dig into the details, you can end up rewriting history or at least furthering the discussion,” Murray said. “That, and the use of new technologies to visualize and then refine what we could only dream about as recently as 10 years ago … that’s what makes this work so exciting and so satisfying.”

Honours for Tim Winters

From the Leaf Chronicle:

One gets the impression that Dr. Tim Winters, Austin Peay State University classics professor, doesn’t sleep much. A dedicated teacher, he’s won most of the University’s major faculty awards, such as the Socrates Award for Excellence in Teaching and the APSU National Alumni Association Distinguished Professor Award.

Add that to grading papers, writing scholarly articles, mentoring students and teaching study abroad courses in Greece every summer, and it leaves little time for what most of us know as rest.

But in his few off hours, Winters isn’t sitting at home watching television or catching up on his sleep. He’s out in the community, keeping local streets safe as a reserve officer for the Clarksville Police Department or visiting hospitals and nursing homes as an ordained deacon with the Immaculate Conception Catholic Church. His dedication in this area rivals his academic career, and it led the Clarksville Area Chamber of Commerce to present him recently with the 2012 Distinguished Community Service Award. The award is presented every spring to an APSU faculty member who demonstrates exemplary service to his or her community. Dr. Minoa Uffelman, APSU associate professor of history, nominated Winters for the award.

“Dr. Winters is a selfless individual who always seeks to improve the lives of those around him, whether those individuals are students or members of the local community,” Dr. Mickey Wadia, APSU professor of languages and literature, wrote in a memo supporting Uffelman’s nomination.

The memo went on for two pages listing Winters’ service to the community, such as going on four of Immaculate Conception Catholic Church’s medical missions to Haiti, helping to organize a telethon for that country after it was devastated by an earthquake in 2010, playing drums in a band that volunteers at benefit concerts for organizations such as Special Olympics and the Humane Society, helping rebuild the home of a local police officer’s widow for the ABC television show “Extreme Makeover” and working to preserve and restore the Nashville Parthenon at Centennial Park.

“He is a constant and positive force in the Clarksville community,” APSU President Tim Hall wrote in a letter to Steve Kemmer, chairman of the Clarksville Area Chamber of Commerce. Kemmer agreed, and on April 24, during the APSU Academic Honors and Awards Day Ceremony, he presented Winters with the community service award.

Making Classical Connections at Emory

From an Emory news release thingy:

Oxford College of Emory University
Oxford College of Emory University (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In a time defined by the Internet, social media and constant technological change, is it possible to excite students with literature written 2,000 or more years ago in languages sometimes referred to as “dead”? At Oxford College, the answer is a resounding yes.

The study of Latin and classical Greek is thriving on the campus where Emory began and in a building dating to 1874 — the aptly named Language Hall — where students in the 19th century also went through the rigors of Latin and Greek grammar.

Henry Bayerle, assistant professor of classics, joined Oxford in the fall of 2006, when 21 students enrolled in his classical language courses, and seven students studied classical literature in English translation. Five years later, the total numbers have more than doubled, with 42 students in classical language courses and 22 studying classical literature in English translation.

Bayerle, who received his doctorate in comparative literature from Harvard University, is essentially a classics department of one. He has a teaching repertoire of Latin, Greek and classical literature in translation, but as his program has grown, offering elementary and intermediate Latin and classical literature meant that there was no room in the schedule for Greek. In the spring of 2011, Bayerle and Peter Bing, Chair and Samuel Candler Dobbs Professor of the Classics at Emory College, came up with a cooperative solution: someone from the Emory College faculty would come to Oxford to teach the intermediate course in Latin, freeing Bayerle to offer elementary Greek. “It was a win-win situation,” says Bing. “Expanding the study of classics at Oxford benefits all of us.”

Asked what motivates students to study the classics, Bayerle says, “They take these courses for a wide variety of reasons. Part of it may be a response to popular culture — think ‘Gladiator,’ ‘300,’ numerous video games. Many mention that they know that knowledge of Latin may help them with vocabulary on standardized tests such as the GRE. But they are, after all, students who have chosen a liberal-arts intensive environment at Oxford; they also know these languages are part of the liberal-arts tradition.”

But why do they stay?

“I find that many of the students who enter our courses for those first reasons eventually discover other sources of intellectual pleasure and value in the classics and return for more,” says Bayerle.

He and Bing say that many fall in love with philology and analysis of the language. For others, it is finding relevance in the writings of great ancient authors whose words have been meaningful for generations.

In this past year, Bayerle found yet another way of helping students find relevance in the classics. Using Oxford’s Theory-Practice/Service Learning (TPSL) model, he devised a TPSL plan in which students in his literature course on the Romans would visit and interview veterans of World War II, the Vietnam War and the recent conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan. Having read about ancient war in Virgil’s “Aeneid,” they were challenged to compare and contrast the experience of war as seen through the eyes of the warrior Aeneas with the words of the U.S. war veterans they spoke with.

Bayerle says that the classics have much to offer students, regardless of what they choose as their major.

“Words matter. I believe the classics teach them about rhetorical choices and make them better listeners and readers. They read timeless literature that is a conversation about what it means to be human-these words are about us.”