posted with permission:

Xenophon’s Mirror of Princes: Reading the Reflections. By Vivienne J. Gray. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. Pp. vii + 406. £83.00/$150.00. ISBN 978-0-19-956381-4.

Reviewed by Richard Fernando Buxton, University of Texas at Austin

Gray’s provocative, lucid and erudite study develops key ideas that she has advanced throughout her career: Xenophon is primarily concerned with modeling good leadership, in achieving this he employs innovative literary skill, and the way individual passages advance his program is best understood by reading them against similar scenes across the author’s diverse corpus. Building on earlier studies of particular works, Gray offers a systematic presentation of Xenophon’s leadership theory and provides a catalog of the main literary devices that enhance its dramatization (explicit evaluative comments, allusion, inherited and invented type scenes, and constructive irony). Good leadership in all settings—oikos, army, Socratic classroom, polis and kingdom—is revealed as the selfless cultivation of the material and ethical increase of one’s followers in order to obtain their voluntary obedience and the rewards of praise and security this brings. As Gray brilliantly demonstrates, Xenophon even accommodates personal friendship within his paradigm as a situation in which two parties trade off the roles of leader and follower. Gray uses her detailed case for Xenophon’s sophisticated but univocal message to challenge ironic (i.e. Straussian) readings of several works, which posit the author subtly embeds deflationary details that unmask the manipulative and oppressive character of his “model” leaders for discerning readers. For Gray such readings fixate on how figures like Cyrus the Great “use” their dependents (χρῆσθσαι) while ignoring Xenophon’s qualification that both leader and follower “use” each other properly (καλῶς / εὖ χρῆσθσαι) by fostering an interdependent eudaimonia; a vision of human relationships that anticipates Aristotle.

The book’s most significant contribution is to document comprehensively the universalizing thrust of Xenophon’s leadership model, finding the cultivation of willing obedience emphasized in spheres as disparate as the estate mistress with her maid (Oec. 9.11-16) and the groom with his horse (Equ. 2.3). In all of these areas Gray is right to highlight Xenophon’s insistence that the leader display a genuine concern for the successful nurture of his followers, which ironic approaches have too often minimized. Particularly effective is the book’s final chapter, which surveys clear instances when Socrates in Xenophon employs irony in order to determine whether these offer any precedent for the subtle dissimulations that Straussians have attributed to the author as a product of Socratic influence. Instead, Socrates carefully signposts irony for his interlocutors, using it only to reinforce and enrich their appreciation for his surface message that the young kaloikagathoi of Athens practice an ethical form of leadership.

The risk of Gray’s approach, which seeks Xenophonta ek Xenophontos saphenizein, is that it becomes reductive. Particularly in the fourth chapter’s analysis of Xenophontic type scenes, each discrete narrative pattern is seen as carrying the same meaning in its every occurrence. But such repetition can also create meaning by subverting expectations. An instructive example from the Hellenica is Agesilaus’ controversial intervention on his son’s behalf in the acquittal of Sphodrias, the Spartan harmost guilty of succumbing to bribery and executing an ill-advised raid on Athens, but whose son is the lover of Agesilaus’ heir (5.4.20-33). Gray rightly shows (212–32) how the episode conforms to a stock narrative in Xenophon where a generous leader secures greater advantage for his community in forgiving a guilty man, whose consequent gratitude drives him to perform exceptional public service, than by enforcing the strict letter of the law (cf. Cyrus and the rebellious king of Armenia). In accordance with the pattern Xenophon does include a prolepsis indicating that Sphodrias’ son, grateful for his father’s acquittal, becomes a bulwark of Sparta who dies heroically at Leuctra (5.4.33). He thus neutralizes the charge that Agesilaus put personal interests before those of the state. But Xenophon is equally clear that Sphodrias’ acquittal drives Athens to abandon Sparta for Thebes (5.4.34). The lesson of the episode thus seems more complex than Gray allows inasmuch as the successful management of men within a polis by its leader (Agesilaus and Sphodrias) comes into conflict with the successful management of a hegemon over its allies (Sparta and Athens). Model leadership is still the central issue, but it is here one of complex dimensions. An avenue for future investigation might be the degree to which Xenophon maps his model of interpersonal leadership onto inter-polis dynamics, and the tensions that exist between these two levels. Helpful in this regard would be a greater consideration of the role juxtaposed narratives play in creating meaning, which has been fruitfully explored for Xenophon but does not appear in Gray’s catalog as a major literary device of the author.[[1]]

Such quibbles should only serve to demonstrate that Gray’s study is a highly stimulating point of departure for further discussion. This is the most important book on Xenophon in many years, the product of a sustained and deep engagement with his texts. Its many close readings deserve serious consideration and provide an indispensable basis for future conversations about the author in all of the many areas his encyclopedic output occupies.

NOTE

[[1]] See in particular the “aesthetic of asyndeton,” proposed by E. Lévy, “L’art de la déformation historique dans les Helléniques de Xénophon,” in H. Verdin, G. Schepens and E. de Keyser, eds., Purposes of History (Louvain, 1990) 125–57.

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Peasants and Slaves: The Rural Population of Roman Italy (200 BC to AD 100). By Alessandro Launaro. Cambridge Classical Studies. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Pp. xiv + 349. Hardcover, £65.00/$110.00. ISBN 978-1-107-00479-5.

Reviewed by David B. Hollander, Iowa State University

Launaro’s monograph, a major contribution to the study of Roman demography in the late Republic and early Empire, uses Italian field survey evidence to build a persuasive case against the so-called “low-count” estimate of 5 to 7 million inhabitants for Italy at the beginning of the Empire.

The book consists of seven chapters divided between four parts. Part I (Chapters 1 and 2) reviews the debate over Roman demography, which hinges on how one explains the difference between the 910,000 Roman citizens reported in the census of 70/69 BCE and the Augustan figure for 28 BCE of 4,063,000. Those who subscribe to the “low count” interpret the former figure as reporting just adult male citizens and the latter as including women and children. When one factors out the newly enfranchised citizens of Transpadana (46 BCE) and Romans living in the provinces, there is little room for late Republican population growth in Italy. Those who favor the “high count” think both figures refer just to adult male citizens, implying some growth during the late Republic and an Italian population of around 14 million by the reign of Augustus. There is also the “middle count” put forward by Saskia Hin which suggests that the Augustan census figure counts citizens sui iuris and leads to an estimate of 7.5 million for 28 BCE. Launaro contends that the low count necessarily implies that Italy’s rural population declined in the late Republic while the middle and high counts do not entail such a trend. Thus field survey may hold the key to choosing among these options.

Part II (Chapters 3 and 4) turns to landscape archaeology and examines the methodological problems associated with deriving population numbers from site finds and comparing the results of different surveys. Launaro argues that it makes more sense to look for trends in settlement rather than specific population figures. He then describes his method for integrating survey results and the various assumptions it entails. This “operational methodology” allows him to compare the number of observed farms, villas, and villages in the late Republic (200–50 BCE) with the early Empire (50 BC–100 CE).

Part III (Chapter 5) discusses the surveys which constitute Launaro’s evidence. Each survey needed to provide comparable data with respect to site classification while the surveys as a whole had to “produce a reasonably representative picture” of Italy (103). The 27 surveys to make the cut range from Valli Grani Veronesi and Polcevera Valley in the north to Roccagloriosa and Oria in the south, but Etruria, Latium, and Campania provide about half of the samples. Launaro gives a brief description of each survey, discusses how he converted its “dataset,” and notes the local settlement trend it suggests. A lengthy appendix (133 pages) lists all the data on which Launaro bases his analysis.

Part IV considers the implications of the aggregate survey data for Italian settlement trends and Roman demography (Chapter 6) as well as for the Italian economy more generally (Chapter 7). Launaro finds that “the total number of sites as derived from [his] pool of twenty-seven surveys point to rather general patterns of significant growth together with isolated patches of either stability or slight decline” (155). This leads to the conclusion that “the low-count interpretation has to be rejected as a whole because of its implications for the rural population, which do not correspond in any way to the picture which can be derived from fifty years of field research in landscape archaeology” (164). Though he prefers the high count, Launaro is quick to point out that his analysis does not allow one to choose between the middle and high counts; the variables, particularly the number of citizens in the provinces, are too uncertain.

Overall, this is a well produced and clearly argued book. In addition to offering a compelling new demographic argument, Launaro’s “revised narrative of Roman Italy,” tentatively outlined in the final chapter, will be of considerable interest to those who study Rome’s economic and agricultural history.

posted with permission:

Peasants and Slaves: The Rural Population of Roman Italy (200 BC to AD 100). By Alessandro Launaro. Cambridge Classical Studies. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Pp. xiv + 349. Hardcover, £65.00/$110.00. ISBN 978-1-107-00479-5.

Reviewed by David B. Hollander, Iowa State University

Launaro’s monograph, a major contribution to the study of Roman demography in the late Republic and early Empire, uses Italian field survey evidence to build a persuasive case against the so-called “low-count” estimate of 5 to 7 million inhabitants for Italy at the beginning of the Empire.

The book consists of seven chapters divided between four parts. Part I (Chapters 1 and 2) reviews the debate over Roman demography, which hinges on how one explains the difference between the 910,000 Roman citizens reported in the census of 70/69 BCE and the Augustan figure for 28 BCE of 4,063,000. Those who subscribe to the “low count” interpret the former figure as reporting just adult male citizens and the latter as including women and children. When one factors out the newly enfranchised citizens of Transpadana (46 BCE) and Romans living in the provinces, there is little room for late Republican population growth in Italy. Those who favor the “high count” think both figures refer just to adult male citizens, implying some growth during the late Republic and an Italian population of around 14 million by the reign of Augustus. There is also the “middle count” put forward by Saskia Hin which suggests that the Augustan census figure counts citizens sui iuris and leads to an estimate of 7.5 million for 28 BCE. Launaro contends that the low count necessarily implies that Italy’s rural population declined in the late Republic while the middle and high counts do not entail such a trend. Thus field survey may hold the key to choosing among these options.

Part II (Chapters 3 and 4) turns to landscape archaeology and examines the methodological problems associated with deriving population numbers from site finds and comparing the results of different surveys. Launaro argues that it makes more sense to look for trends in settlement rather than specific population figures. He then describes his method for integrating survey results and the various assumptions it entails. This “operational methodology” allows him to compare the number of observed farms, villas, and villages in the late Republic (200–50 BCE) with the early Empire (50 BC–100 CE).

Part III (Chapter 5) discusses the surveys which constitute Launaro’s evidence. Each survey needed to provide comparable data with respect to site classification while the surveys as a whole had to “produce a reasonably representative picture” of Italy (103). The 27 surveys to make the cut range from Valli Grani Veronesi and Polcevera Valley in the north to Roccagloriosa and Oria in the south, but Etruria, Latium, and Campania provide about half of the samples. Launaro gives a brief description of each survey, discusses how he converted its “dataset,” and notes the local settlement trend it suggests. A lengthy appendix (133 pages) lists all the data on which Launaro bases his analysis.

Part IV considers the implications of the aggregate survey data for Italian settlement trends and Roman demography (Chapter 6) as well as for the Italian economy more generally (Chapter 7). Launaro finds that “the total number of sites as derived from [his] pool of twenty-seven surveys point to rather general patterns of significant growth together with isolated patches of either stability or slight decline” (155). This leads to the conclusion that “the low-count interpretation has to be rejected as a whole because of its implications for the rural population, which do not correspond in any way to the picture which can be derived from fifty years of field research in landscape archaeology” (164). Though he prefers the high count, Launaro is quick to point out that his analysis does not allow one to choose between the middle and high counts; the variables, particularly the number of citizens in the provinces, are too uncertain.

Overall, this is a well produced and clearly argued book. In addition to offering a compelling new demographic argument, Launaro’s “revised narrative of Roman Italy,” tentatively outlined in the final chapter, will be of considerable interest to those who study Rome’s economic and agricultural history.

posted with permission:

Greece and the Augustan Cultural Revolution. By A. J. S. Spawforth. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012. Pp. viii + 319. Hardcover, £60.00/$99.00. ISBN 978-1-107-01211-0.

Reviewed by Karl Galinsky, University of Texas at Austin

Spawforth’s book is a valuable contribution to the ongoing discussion of the Augustan impact on Greece in terms of what we might call cultural politics. Fundamental questions are involved: how did Romans view Greece in the early principate? To what extent is that view different from that of Romans in the late Republic? And what degree of reciprocity existed between Greece and Rome in that area?

Spawforth’s contention is that (as in other areas) there was a deliberate Augustan program. At its core was a “re-hellenization” which stressed traditional Greek virtues that were compatible with their Roman equivalents: “The view put forward here is that this discourse could also, at times, shade into active promotion of Roman values by the state and its representatives and that such central promotion, since it could target Greece, was not limited to provinces newly and violently incorporated into the Roman empire” (28). Spawforth well acknowledges the role of “diaspora” Romans (on whom see N. Purcell in The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Augustus [2005] 85–105) but goes on to propose: “There is every reason to think that such people fell under the moralizing gaze of the Augustan regime when its leadership [i.e. Augustus and Agrippa] toured the cities of the east” (29).

Well, perhaps not. Spawforth leans heavily on the scholarship of German art historians such as Zanker for positing an almost totalizing Augustan penchant for “classicism” with all its implied moral connotations. Much is ignored in the process. Augustan culture, let alone the construct of the Augustan “program,” was a great deal more multi-faceted, including lively aspects of the paradox and marvelous in the arts and literature (see the collection edited by Philip Hardie, Paradox and the Marvellous in Augustan Literature and Culture [Oxford, 2009]). Sure, aristocratic residents of the Greek east in particular made all the right noises, but, as Simon Price noted in his study of the imperial cult, “the existence of Roman rule intensified the dominance of Greek culture” (Rituals and Power [Cambridge, 1986] 100). The top-down view adopted in this book is somewhat of a throwback to early notions (Mommsen et al.) of “Romanization”; a closer look at recent scholarship on that subject might have pointed the way to the limits of “the state and its representatives” as apostles of Roman morals and to a more nuanced assessment of multiple, reciprocal interactions. As for the arts and literature, the Augustan spectrum of Greek adaptations ranges from the archaic to the Hellenistic, an eclecticism that reflects the Alexandrian/Augustan oikumenê across the Mediterranean.

For that reason, too, Spawforth’s emphasis on Salamis being refurbished as an anti-barbarian proto-Actium seems to me too absolute. Actium and its resonances had many layers. Prominently among them, as Barbara Kellum has recently demonstrated, was the use of Actian motifs in the art of freedmen, a class that made substantial gains in civic recognition and involvement under Augustus—“his victory had indeed been theirs” (Kellum in B. Breed et al., Citizens of Discord [Oxford, 2011] 201). No anti-barbarian message there; rather, the point is social status. And why would the descendants of Aeneas, who came from Asiatic Troy, want to demonize all easterners as barbarians? The many ways this theme is played out in Vergil’s Aeneid alone stand in the way of stereotyping. Or, to give another example, the inner sanctum of the Temple of Mars Ultor, and especially its color scheme, may have appropriated quite a bit of orientalism amid all the borrowings for the Forum Augustum from Greek architecture and architectural decoration, including buildings on the Athenian acropolis (J. Ganzert, Im Allerheiligsten des Augustusforums: Fokus “oikumenischer Akkulturation” [Mainz, 2000]).

There is much useful material in this book especially in terms of epigraphy. Spawforth offers many acute comments, too, on the (re)construction of buildings and cults not just in Athens and Sparta, but also, for instance, in Messene. These are areas of expertise where he is truly at home. As Susan Alcock has shown, such undertakings, so far from following a program scripted by Rome, were also rooted in the desire to revive, if not invent, indigenous traditions amid the overlay of imperial identities. The subject is rich and Spawforth extends it to the time of Hadrian. There is much to be gained from consulting his book.

• 2012.09.18:  Irene J. F. de Jong, Space in Ancient Greek Literature. Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, vol. 3. Mnemosyne supplements. Monographs on Greek and Latin language and literature, 339.
• 2012.09.17:  Walter Ameling, Hannah M. Cotton, Werner Eck, Benjamin Isaac, Alla Kushnir-Stein, Corpus inscriptionum Iudaeae/Palaestinae. Volume II: Caesarea and the Middle Coast: 1121-2160.
• 2012.09.16:  Laurent Pernot, La rhétorique des arts. Actes du colloque tenu au Collège de France sous la présidence de Marc Fumaroli, de l’Académie française.
• 2012.09.15:  Martha A. Malamud, Prudentius. Origin of Sin: an English Translation of the Hamartigenia. Cornell studies in classical philology, 61.
• 2012.09.14:  Mark Handley, Dying on Foreign Shores: Travel and Mobility in the Late-Antique West. JRA Supplementary Series 86.
• 2012.09.13:  Christopher J. Fuhrmann, Policing the Roman Empire: Soldiers, Administration, and Public Order.
• 2012.09.12:  Federica Bessone, La Tebaide di Stazio: epica e potere. Materiali e discussioni per l’analisi dei testi classici, 24.
• 2012.09.11:  Mary C. English, Georgia L. Irby, A Little Latin Reader
• 2012.09.10:  Maria Tziatzi-Papagianni, Theodori Metropolitae Cyzici Epistulae: accedunt epistulae mutuae Constantini Porphyrogeniti. Corpus Fontium Historiae Byzantinae, 48.
• 2012.09.09:  Kelly L. Wrenhaven, Reconstructing the Slave: the Image of the Slave in Ancient Greece.
• 2012.09.08:  Eirini-Sophia Kiapidou, Ἡ Σύνοψη Ἱστοριῶν τοῦ Ιωάννη Σκυλίτζη καὶ οἱ πηγές της (811-1057): Συμβολή στὴ βυζαντινὴ ἱστοριογραφία κατά τὸν ΙΑ΄ αἰώνα. Μελέτες Βυζαντινής Γραμματείας, 9.
• 2012.09.07:  Christine Walde, Die Rezeption der antiken Literatur: kulturhistorisches Werklexikon. Der Neue Pauly – Supplemente, Bd 7.
• 2012.09.06:  Riccardo Scarcia, Fabio Stok, Devotionis munus. La cultura e l’opera di Adamo di Brema. Testi e studi di cultura classica 47.