One of my tasks over the next few months is to write a chapter for a companion that explores the place of Thucydides amongst the historians of late antiquity, which both has something for the specialist and the uninitiated. It's no small task, and to make this manageable, and in the vague hopes of saying something (even if it's little more than a sentence or two) somewhat new, I'm going to focus my attention on one episode in Thucydides' History that has had a particularly marked impact: his description of the Siege of Plataea. Yes, this also means I get to touch on something I know reasonably well - the ins and outs of siege descriptions. It turns out that there are three historians (that we know of) who modelled at least one of their accounts on Thucydides' Plataean siege: Dexippus (3rd century), Priscus (5th century), and Procopius (6th century). The main question that I will address is how far can we take this Thucydidean influence, and what does this mean for how we read these later historians?
As I comb through the modern literature and read and re-read some of the relevant ancient accounts, there are a number of issues that have jumped out at me thus far as I have considered those questions. First, why have those historians chosen to base their description on a siege found in Thucydides and why Plataea? Combat is ubiquitous in the ancient world, and we can find descriptions of sieges in all sorts of different historians. What is it about Thucydides' siege that makes it so special? I wonder how many moderns would ran it as a pivotal moment in the the text, let alone the war? A siege like Syracuse? OK - and it did have an impact on Procopius, for it seems to have influenced his account of the siege of Rome in 537/538, and just as Syracuse ushered in big changes in the course of that war, so too did Rome in the Gothic war. There must have been something about Thucydides, then, and this particular siege that stood out in their minds when they sat down (so to speak) to describe their respective sieges (Philippopolis in Dexippus, Naissus in Priscus, and Naples in Procopius).
Of course, ancient historians are less likely to be motivated by the relative importance of a siege in selecting models, or so I would think. Rather, it's the literary character that carries of the day more often than not. This then brings up the second consideration, the impact of education and the rhetorical handbooks. Indeed, as it happens a number of the surviving progymnasmata highlight Thucydides' account of Plataea as one worth noting. If those three historians, and others, had read any of those rhetorical handbooks, and they likely would have done in the course of their similar educations, it seems likely the primacy of Thucydides' account would have been hammered into their heads and so it's not surprising, then, that they did think of Plataea. If anything, maybe we should have been asking not why Thucydides, but which other historian and siege could they have used instead? Could there ever have been any doubt?
This, though, brings up a third issue. Is it really Thucydides they have in mind, or some sort of list of key phrases, quotes, or even passages, the sort of thing that was said to be present (common, ubiquitous?) in late antiquity? Did they remember Thucydides from school, then turn to the section they needed and simply copy what they wanted? Less of a full appreciation of Thucydides then than something far more superficial? If you read Lucian's How to Write History you get the impression that there were a number of historians (most lost - and assuming he was alluding to real historians) from the first and second centuries who might have fallen into this superficial category, so to speak.
In fact, this brings up a fourth issue. Although there are all sorts of interesting potential examples of intertextuality involving Thucydides and other authors like Procopius, a topic discussed in a number of provocative works by Pazdernik, is this the same sort of thing we have when we focus on episodes like these sieges or, as suggested above, are they something more superficial? Can they ever really be something more than a sytlistic choice? Given the comparative lack of importance it would seem unlikely. And, the fragmentary state of both Dexippus and Priscus makes this a difficult issue to discuss outside the bounds of Procopius' Wars. It is worth asking, however.
A fifth point, related to the previous one, if tangentially, has to do with what this Thucydidean impact then has on the veracity of the respective accounts. If they're all based on Thucydides - and a handful of studies have highlighted the profound linguistic impact - does this mean their sieges are little more than literary artifices? Ought we then throw out the baby with the bathwater? The sieges are too closely modelled on Thucydides for comfort, they (the descriptions) couldn't then be based on the actual accounts, and so we should discard them as little more than something of literary interest. Valuable for what they say about the impact of Thucydides: check. Useful for historians with a real interest in the respective conflicts: no.
A sixth issue, what does all this tell us about the practice of history-writing in late antiquity, when such a seemingly significant chunk of the works of one segment of the era's historians can be reduced to what we could consider examples of flagrant plagiarism? In other words, from this perspective, should we consider going back to the old appellation, dark ages? Are the classicizing historians of the age not deserving of the credit we tend to afford them if this is what they call history? Perhaps, then, it really is the Malalas', the Jordanes', the Eusebius', the Theodorets and the Marcellinus Comes' that really deserve our attention, as they seem to be the ones who were really doing something different. Or does the fact that there were still individuals capable of engaging with arguably the world's greatest historian in the age in addition to those experiementing with new forms and new subject matter reveal to us the age's vitality, at least from the perspective of historiography?
All this from Thucydides, late antique historians, and one little siege. Should be a fun (if endlessly frustrating) chapter to write.
Tuesday, 24 March 2015
Monday, 2 March 2015
Procopius' Wars: Second Edition
At some point after writing the first seven books of his Wars, Procopius published them, and apparently to widespread acclaim. Lo, he was so successful that he decided to write an update, of sorts, book 8. Book 8, as Procopius readily admits, is something of an anomaly. For him it was the organization that stood out: he struggled finding a way to update the material of the first seven books, and must have reckoned that tacking them on to the first seven, or each war, wouldn't have worked that well. Instead, then, he lumped it all together in one book: 8. Once he decided on this, he did, at least at the most basic of levels, proceed to arrange it (book 8) as he'd done the first seven. So, the first chunk of book 8 is devoted to PW matters, a wee paragraph is devoted to VW matters, and the last chunk to GW matters. All good.
When we take a closer look, however, things are rather different. Yes, there are lots of battles and sieges, much as there had been before - and given that it's a history of war it well should have this sort of stuff. But, his descriptions of combat in book 8 aren't consistent, at least for the most part, with those in books 1-7. Rather, it's more of a hodgepodge, with an especial emphasis on the factors he raises in the GW (for more on this, for the moment, see the relevant chapter here: (http://wrap.warwick.ac.uk/view/theses/Department_of_Classics_and_Ancient_History.type.html)
There's plenty more that's different in book 8, however. For one thing, there are far more methodological statements than we find, at least per capita, in the first seven books. I would suggest that there are also far more "philosophy of history" statements. Along those lines, we find a number of cases where our narrator feels the need to set the record straight: "this or that matter has been discussed in a variety of ways by various sources, and they're generally wrong. Here's how it really is." That sort of thing. We might well expect these sorts of statements to pertain, by and large, to key historical events, like battles. And, near the end, in his description of the Battle of Busta Gallorum/Taginae, we find just such a comment, and it pertains to the various reports concerning the death of Totila. It seems reports differed, and given the comparatively detailed account he presents first, I'm inclined to believe that it's the one he liked best. Interesingly, however (and in Herodotean vein), he doesn't take a stand - he mentions the other version, and provides some detail, and then lets is stand for the reader to sort out, at least indirectly (as noted, I think he's pointing towards option 1). Much more often, however, he chimes in when the matter pertains to matters of geography, less often ethnography, but quite too often mythology. He's not unusual in this - again, this is very much a Herodotean thing. What is unusual, however, is that Procopius himself tends not to do this in the first part of the Wars (books 1-7).
There are other unusual things. There is far more attention on geography, again per capita, and on sensory aspects, at least from the perspective of combat. In fact, you would be no worse off in writing a "face of battle" account of Justinianic era combat using book 8 alone than you would if you only had books 1 through 7. There's also all that myth. We read about Jason and Medea, Orestes, Agamemnon, Iphigenia, Odysseus, Aeneas, and so forth. The placing of his discussions of myth does make sense: for the first of the lot, it comes in the heart of his Lazican discussion, and the setting for those myths tends to be in the lands that are the focus of that part of the war with Persia. The same's true for the war against the Goths and Italy-based myths (Odysseus' voyages primarily). So, all well and good, as I suggested. But, why didn't he do the same in the first seven books?
The Procopius of book 8, then, is, for all intents and purposes, not the Procopius of books 1-7. Why is that? What made Procopius adopt this notably different approach, an approach that on the surface (and possibly deeper down?) is much more Herodotean than the very Thucydidean (even Polybian) first seven books? It could be that in the absence of autopsy Procopius sought to supplement his narrative with details that he could provide given the resources at his disposal, ie the ancient/classical texts that he alludes to throughout book 8.
But, I wonder if there isn't another possibility, one that doesn't necessarily preclude the former, though which might seem to contradict Procopius' statements at the start of book 8. He claimed that his work was popular, and there might be something to these claims, but its appeal might not have been quite as universal as he had imagined. In other words, some - many? - might have criticized the historian. Reading Procopius again in full (in translation, admittedly - Kaldellis' new one) for a seminar I'm teaching, it's clear that he isn't for everyone. Indeed, if you're not terribly interested in military history, it's hard not to read the Wars as little more than "one damned thing after another", where the thing, or things, in question is combat (and its attendant battles, sieges, and campaigns). I hate to admit it, but even my eyes glossed over a little from time to time. Maybe, then, there were others who lampooned Procopius for just this problem, and so to counter this - and to reach even greater renown - he sought to add extra episodes of interest, the types of scenes that would appeal to a broader audience. What with all the myth, geography, and literary argumentation it's hard not to think that these were included for just this purpose. Secular military history wasn't as popular in the sixth century AD as it was in the early fourth century BC. Readers (and listners) had other options, even if Procopius was part of a grand tradition, and even if he is succeeded by Agathias, Menander, and Theophylact, In sum, I read book 8 as a response to Procopius' critics, even if its character is to some degree conditioned by his resources. Perhaps this pseudo-Herodotean approach might also reflect the appeals of his similarly-educated readers, those who spent years pouring over rhetorical treatises and argued over the respective merits of different figrues from myth. Maybe they expected more of this, and told Procopius to include it in his update.
I realize that this reading is conditioned by my own circumstances - not everyone loves Procopius, and Herodotus is undoubtedly the most popular of classical historians, as evidenced by the success of Holland's recent translation. What interests us, then, might not have interested Procopius' peers. Still, might be worth considering - or exploring in more detail (at some unspecified point in my future, if I still have the fortitude to persevere with these Procopian projects).
When we take a closer look, however, things are rather different. Yes, there are lots of battles and sieges, much as there had been before - and given that it's a history of war it well should have this sort of stuff. But, his descriptions of combat in book 8 aren't consistent, at least for the most part, with those in books 1-7. Rather, it's more of a hodgepodge, with an especial emphasis on the factors he raises in the GW (for more on this, for the moment, see the relevant chapter here: (http://wrap.warwick.ac.uk/view/theses/Department_of_Classics_and_Ancient_History.type.html)
There's plenty more that's different in book 8, however. For one thing, there are far more methodological statements than we find, at least per capita, in the first seven books. I would suggest that there are also far more "philosophy of history" statements. Along those lines, we find a number of cases where our narrator feels the need to set the record straight: "this or that matter has been discussed in a variety of ways by various sources, and they're generally wrong. Here's how it really is." That sort of thing. We might well expect these sorts of statements to pertain, by and large, to key historical events, like battles. And, near the end, in his description of the Battle of Busta Gallorum/Taginae, we find just such a comment, and it pertains to the various reports concerning the death of Totila. It seems reports differed, and given the comparatively detailed account he presents first, I'm inclined to believe that it's the one he liked best. Interesingly, however (and in Herodotean vein), he doesn't take a stand - he mentions the other version, and provides some detail, and then lets is stand for the reader to sort out, at least indirectly (as noted, I think he's pointing towards option 1). Much more often, however, he chimes in when the matter pertains to matters of geography, less often ethnography, but quite too often mythology. He's not unusual in this - again, this is very much a Herodotean thing. What is unusual, however, is that Procopius himself tends not to do this in the first part of the Wars (books 1-7).
There are other unusual things. There is far more attention on geography, again per capita, and on sensory aspects, at least from the perspective of combat. In fact, you would be no worse off in writing a "face of battle" account of Justinianic era combat using book 8 alone than you would if you only had books 1 through 7. There's also all that myth. We read about Jason and Medea, Orestes, Agamemnon, Iphigenia, Odysseus, Aeneas, and so forth. The placing of his discussions of myth does make sense: for the first of the lot, it comes in the heart of his Lazican discussion, and the setting for those myths tends to be in the lands that are the focus of that part of the war with Persia. The same's true for the war against the Goths and Italy-based myths (Odysseus' voyages primarily). So, all well and good, as I suggested. But, why didn't he do the same in the first seven books?
The Procopius of book 8, then, is, for all intents and purposes, not the Procopius of books 1-7. Why is that? What made Procopius adopt this notably different approach, an approach that on the surface (and possibly deeper down?) is much more Herodotean than the very Thucydidean (even Polybian) first seven books? It could be that in the absence of autopsy Procopius sought to supplement his narrative with details that he could provide given the resources at his disposal, ie the ancient/classical texts that he alludes to throughout book 8.
But, I wonder if there isn't another possibility, one that doesn't necessarily preclude the former, though which might seem to contradict Procopius' statements at the start of book 8. He claimed that his work was popular, and there might be something to these claims, but its appeal might not have been quite as universal as he had imagined. In other words, some - many? - might have criticized the historian. Reading Procopius again in full (in translation, admittedly - Kaldellis' new one) for a seminar I'm teaching, it's clear that he isn't for everyone. Indeed, if you're not terribly interested in military history, it's hard not to read the Wars as little more than "one damned thing after another", where the thing, or things, in question is combat (and its attendant battles, sieges, and campaigns). I hate to admit it, but even my eyes glossed over a little from time to time. Maybe, then, there were others who lampooned Procopius for just this problem, and so to counter this - and to reach even greater renown - he sought to add extra episodes of interest, the types of scenes that would appeal to a broader audience. What with all the myth, geography, and literary argumentation it's hard not to think that these were included for just this purpose. Secular military history wasn't as popular in the sixth century AD as it was in the early fourth century BC. Readers (and listners) had other options, even if Procopius was part of a grand tradition, and even if he is succeeded by Agathias, Menander, and Theophylact, In sum, I read book 8 as a response to Procopius' critics, even if its character is to some degree conditioned by his resources. Perhaps this pseudo-Herodotean approach might also reflect the appeals of his similarly-educated readers, those who spent years pouring over rhetorical treatises and argued over the respective merits of different figrues from myth. Maybe they expected more of this, and told Procopius to include it in his update.
I realize that this reading is conditioned by my own circumstances - not everyone loves Procopius, and Herodotus is undoubtedly the most popular of classical historians, as evidenced by the success of Holland's recent translation. What interests us, then, might not have interested Procopius' peers. Still, might be worth considering - or exploring in more detail (at some unspecified point in my future, if I still have the fortitude to persevere with these Procopian projects).
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