I haven't posted much in a while, again. It's been a struggle to keep up with everything. So, having sent off three things today, I thought I'd blabber on about something, and I'm going to talk about something vaguely related to my last post (mid-Byzantine things). Where that was about one fabulous text/history, this is about one fabulous manuscript that illustrates a history.
One of the things I submitted in the past few weeks is a review of Brill's Companion to the Byzantine Culture of War, ca. 300-1204 (https://brill.com/view/title/22983?lang=en), and it includes all sorts of interesting stuff (my review will appear in the English Historical Review). So, during a lull, and to break up the run of usual stuff, I took a look (brief glances, really) at the dozens and dozens (hundreds even) illustrations of the Madrid Skylitzes. They can be viewed, for free, here: http://bdh.bne.es/bnesearch/detalle/1754254. It's probably the most remarkable illuminated manuscript from the entirety of Byzantine history, though I gather there are far fewer of these to go on than there are for the medieval west. I confess I'm coming to this as a novice, and those in the know will probably find this all very familiar.
Anyway, the text illuminated is the Chronicle of John Skylitzes, an 11th century author, and an important source for the emperor Basil II, better known as the Bulgar slayer. Given all his discussion of war, quite a lot of the illustrations depict war and soldiers in some capacity or other. The rarity of illuminations of works of Byzantine history has given this manuscript considerable importance. The images contained therein have served as importance sources for those looking to reconstruct the appearance, equipment, and armour of mid-Byzantine soldiers.
As someone approaching all of this as someone much more familiar with (earlier) Roman history, it reminds me of the comparable place of the friezes from Trajan's Column to our understanding of the appearance, equipment, and armour of high imperial Rome's soldiers. Scholars have treated the images in the manuscript as pretty accurate representations. Haldon, for one, one of the most esteemed Byzantinists in the world, used it as an accurate indication armour of Byzantine cavalry from the 9-11th centuries in his chapter on early Byzantine arms and armour (Haldon 2002: 78, https://www.academia.edu/33042359/Some_aspects_of_early_Byzantine_arms_and_armour_2002_). Kolias' Byzantinische Waffen (https://books.google.ca/books/about/Byzantinische_Waffen.html?id=n6neAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y) discusses its value in various places, and even includes some choice plates from the manuscript. Even more recently, Grunbart's chapter on depictions of enemies in Brill's Companion to the Byzantine Culture of War touches on the value of the manuscript's illustrations.
Now, I must stress that this is as far as I've got, and Kolias' book I've only glanced it, though he seems to have recognized some of the restrictions of the images. Down the road, I'd like to look into the matter in more detail, possibly/probably in concert with my desired study of Anna Komnene. So, it could all be a lot of bollocks, or even something (or some things) that some scholars have already said.
To get back to Trajan's Column, one of the growing views out there is that the soldiers so depicted are in no way representative of second century CE soldiers such as we know them (Michael Charles, https://www.jstor.org/stable/i40074597). Some of the points about that column might be valid for the material on the Madrid Skylitzes. Would the army of illustrators for the manuscript really have made their images with the intention of making them as accurate as possible? Or would they have tried to depict them in such a way as to be recognizable to whomever the manuscript was intended? But it's also worth asking if the two questions are mutually exclusive.
There are all sorts of interesting questions that these images generate. For one, we have little in the way of Byzantine physical evidence for arms and armour in the mid-Byzantine era. Instead we have this manuscript, some coins, and a variety of texts, especially Anna Komnene's Alexiad, though also some military manuals. So we have to use evidence like this. But despite the many different illustrations contained therein, they don't come together in the same sort of sequence as we find in Trajan's Column. Indeed, the difference in medium made producing the same sorts of images impractical if not impossible - and the chronological gap and cultural differences were significant too. So, the artists were forced to make due with the space allotted, and were likely hamstrung by what was written on the page. There were also two different groups of images too: those with a western origin, and those a Byzantine one.
Tsamakda's (https://books.google.ca/books/about/The_Illustrated_Chronicle_of_Ioannes_Sky.html?id=-STrAAAAMAAJ&redir_esc=y) seemingly impressive study (seemingly because I haven't really read it, though I've glanced at it and its beautiful illustrations) does catalogue just about everything in the manuscript. It includes type scenes, which I'll have to look into. She seems to suggest in places (many places?) that the items catalogued in some scenes couldn't be identified with anything known. There is a great deal to consider about these illuminations, and when the time comes, I'll see what I can find, though it's possible it's already been said. Whatever comes out of this, if any of it sounds vaguely interesting you should check out the illustrations yourself in the link noted above.
Thursday, 27 June 2019
Wednesday, 10 April 2019
Anna on War
The term's over and we're well into exam season. More importantly, I'll be on leave soon, which means I hope to get back to posting blog posts regularly after a prolonged silence. It's been another helluva year. But the teaching has gone better than last, I think, as I've adjusted to life with two wee, wonderful children.
Not only is it exam season: it's also rejection season. I invested lots of effort in a big grant (SSHRC Insight) back in the late summer. But to no avail. After getting the bad news, I considered abandoning my proposed research project (the follow-up to all this stuff I'm working on now). With the size of these grants and the lag time between proposal, application, success, and funding, you gotta think long term - or plan for things way down the road.
Anyway, I considered shifting to Agathias. It's definitely something I plan to do someday, and I thought this might be the time. I also considered turning to the impact of war in the age of Justinian project, which I paused with the publication of Heather's book. In the end, however, I've decided to stick with a big, long-term project on Ammianus Marcellinus. I've already got some revisions already, which I think will make it a much better proposal when I reapply in the fall.
So what does all this have to do with Anna (and by Anna I mean Anna Komnene)? Well, I also contemplated the merits of jumping to the middle Byzantine period, something else I've contemplated. In the end, it seemed to me that too much work would be required of me to get it ready in time to reapply in October: while I wouldn't entirely be starting from scratch, it wouldn't be far off.
One thing that has struck me, however, while thinking about this Ammianus project and thinking vaguely about later Byzantine historiography has been some of the points made by Nadeja Williams in this excellent article in Eidolon: https://eidolon.pub/there-are-more-women-military-historians-than-ever-before-why-hasnt-the-field-noticed-1c26f62f2d4. In that article, Williams says,
"women are socialized differently, their scholarship on military history is often different from the scholarship traditionally done by men. Put simply, women tend to ask different research questions about the nature of war than men have done, and tend to be more interested in the human experience and the reality of suffering in war for all who experience military conflicts."
One of the angles to my Ammianus project is a consideration of his interest in the human experience of war, which seems much more pronounced than Procopius', though which might be comparable to Agathias'. While all three are men, of course, we do have one later female historian, namely Anna Komnene. Can we find a different approach to combat in Anna, one that differs from the typical male approach we find in other classicizing historians, whether early or middle Byzantine?
Unfortunately, my only frame of reference is the earlier historians, so I can't compare her account with her contemporaries and near contemporaries (something for another day?). But, I thought I'd take a look at one battle, and one that jumped out was the Battle of Kalavrye fought in 1078 between the the forces of Bryennios and those of Alexios. A civil war battle, yes, that comes early in the Alexiad, but one that she describes in some detail. And, although she can make no claims to being there, she obviously had good access to one of the principal participants (her father), if not both (if Bryennios was her father-in-law). Before I raise a few points, I should say that some have disparaged her accounts of battle: the translators of the revised Penguin version called her descriptions of battle "the least impressive passages in the history" in the midst of an otherwise glowing assessment.
In this one case, is Anna more interested in the human experience of war, at least in this one battle (described at 1.4.1ff)? Well, at the start she includes some expected elements, like relative deployment and composition of the two forces, and a comment or two about the fortune of war. Not surprisingly, she does tend to single in on individual soldiers, and officers, and her father at that (the heroic lead of her Alexiad, and by her reckoning an equal to Scipio Aemilianus or even Hannibal (1.1.3)). It's not surprising, however, because this is what "good" Byzantine historians had been doing for centuries, as tradition dictated. That said, Anna includes some remarkable descriptions of the human experience of combat.
In the midst of the catalogue of forces, for instance, Byrennios, "circling round in their midst like some Ares or a Giant standing out head and shoulders above all others, taller by a cubit, was in truth an object of wonder and dread to those who saw him" (1.4. - all translations from the updated Penguin edition). A little later, while the battle is well and truly under way, we get this: "Seeing all this Alexius covered his face, drawing down the vizor fastened to the rim of his helmet, and with the six men I spoke of before rushed violently against them" (1.5). Alexios single-handedly emboldens his side by snatching the the emperor's horse and leading it back to his men. Then,
"Wherever they happened to be they stood motionless, looking back to the rear and amazed beyond all belief by what they saw. It was indeed an extra-ordinary sight: the horses on which they rode were gazing to the front, but the faces of the riders turned backwards; they neither advanced nor had they any intention of wheeling about, but just stopped, dumbfounded and utterly unable to understand what had happened. The Scyths thought of home and were already on their way; they had no further interest in pursuit, but far off from both armies wandered around at random with their booty."
Anna doesn't fly around from general to general, but zooms in on smaller groups with their officers and focuses on their experiences - physical, emotional, and pyschological. She has any eye for the vivid detail too. A bit later, having switched to Bryennios, we find this episode:
"He himself, the deviser of the whole stratagem, followed immediately behind them with as many soldiers collected from his scattered forces as the circumstances demanded. At this point one of the ‘Immortals’ serving under him, a hot-headed, reckless fellow, spurred on his horse in front of the rest and slackening rein charged straight for Bryennius. He thrust his spear very hard at Bryennius’ chest, but he, drawing his sword quickly, before the spear could be driven home cut it off above the point, struck his attacker by the collar-bone, and as he bore down with all his might severed his whole arm, cutting right through his breastplate. Meanwhile the Turks riding up one after the other covered the enemy with showers of arrows. Bryennius’ men were overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of this onslaught; nevertheless they recovered and re-formed ranks. Calling upon one another to endure like men they bore the shock of the attack."
Things get worse for the general a bit later:
"But when his [Bryennios'] horse grew weary, unable either to flee or even pursue (for it was almost at its last gasp through constant chargings) Bryennius reined it in, and like some noble athlete stood ready for combat, challenging two high-born Turks to fight. One struck at him with his spear, but was not fast enough to give a heavy blow; instead he received a heavier one from Bryennius’s right arm, which, too quick for him, cut off his hand with his sword, and hand and spear rolled to the ground. The other Turk leapt down from his horse and panther-like jumped on to Bryennius’ mount, fastening himself on its flank, and there he clung desperately, trying to climb on its back. Bryennius like a wild beast kept twisting round and tried to stab him off with his sword, but without success, for the Turk behind him kept swaying to avoid the blows. Eventually his right arm tired of striking at empty air and himself worn out with fighting, Bryennius surrendered to the main body of the enemy. They seized him and like men who have won great glory took him off to Alexius. The latter was standing not far away from the place where Bryennius was taken and was at the time marshalling the Turks and his own men, encouraging them to fight."
This is remarkable stuff. There's nothing quite like this in Ammianus, Procopius, and Agathias, so far as I can remember. I'll have to look closer at Anna and her contemporaries' and near-contemporaries' accounts, but Williams' comments might not only apply to modern scholarship, but to medieval authors too. More to come...eventually...
Not only is it exam season: it's also rejection season. I invested lots of effort in a big grant (SSHRC Insight) back in the late summer. But to no avail. After getting the bad news, I considered abandoning my proposed research project (the follow-up to all this stuff I'm working on now). With the size of these grants and the lag time between proposal, application, success, and funding, you gotta think long term - or plan for things way down the road.
Anyway, I considered shifting to Agathias. It's definitely something I plan to do someday, and I thought this might be the time. I also considered turning to the impact of war in the age of Justinian project, which I paused with the publication of Heather's book. In the end, however, I've decided to stick with a big, long-term project on Ammianus Marcellinus. I've already got some revisions already, which I think will make it a much better proposal when I reapply in the fall.
So what does all this have to do with Anna (and by Anna I mean Anna Komnene)? Well, I also contemplated the merits of jumping to the middle Byzantine period, something else I've contemplated. In the end, it seemed to me that too much work would be required of me to get it ready in time to reapply in October: while I wouldn't entirely be starting from scratch, it wouldn't be far off.
One thing that has struck me, however, while thinking about this Ammianus project and thinking vaguely about later Byzantine historiography has been some of the points made by Nadeja Williams in this excellent article in Eidolon: https://eidolon.pub/there-are-more-women-military-historians-than-ever-before-why-hasnt-the-field-noticed-1c26f62f2d4. In that article, Williams says,
"women are socialized differently, their scholarship on military history is often different from the scholarship traditionally done by men. Put simply, women tend to ask different research questions about the nature of war than men have done, and tend to be more interested in the human experience and the reality of suffering in war for all who experience military conflicts."
One of the angles to my Ammianus project is a consideration of his interest in the human experience of war, which seems much more pronounced than Procopius', though which might be comparable to Agathias'. While all three are men, of course, we do have one later female historian, namely Anna Komnene. Can we find a different approach to combat in Anna, one that differs from the typical male approach we find in other classicizing historians, whether early or middle Byzantine?
Unfortunately, my only frame of reference is the earlier historians, so I can't compare her account with her contemporaries and near contemporaries (something for another day?). But, I thought I'd take a look at one battle, and one that jumped out was the Battle of Kalavrye fought in 1078 between the the forces of Bryennios and those of Alexios. A civil war battle, yes, that comes early in the Alexiad, but one that she describes in some detail. And, although she can make no claims to being there, she obviously had good access to one of the principal participants (her father), if not both (if Bryennios was her father-in-law). Before I raise a few points, I should say that some have disparaged her accounts of battle: the translators of the revised Penguin version called her descriptions of battle "the least impressive passages in the history" in the midst of an otherwise glowing assessment.
In this one case, is Anna more interested in the human experience of war, at least in this one battle (described at 1.4.1ff)? Well, at the start she includes some expected elements, like relative deployment and composition of the two forces, and a comment or two about the fortune of war. Not surprisingly, she does tend to single in on individual soldiers, and officers, and her father at that (the heroic lead of her Alexiad, and by her reckoning an equal to Scipio Aemilianus or even Hannibal (1.1.3)). It's not surprising, however, because this is what "good" Byzantine historians had been doing for centuries, as tradition dictated. That said, Anna includes some remarkable descriptions of the human experience of combat.
In the midst of the catalogue of forces, for instance, Byrennios, "circling round in their midst like some Ares or a Giant standing out head and shoulders above all others, taller by a cubit, was in truth an object of wonder and dread to those who saw him" (1.4. - all translations from the updated Penguin edition). A little later, while the battle is well and truly under way, we get this: "Seeing all this Alexius covered his face, drawing down the vizor fastened to the rim of his helmet, and with the six men I spoke of before rushed violently against them" (1.5). Alexios single-handedly emboldens his side by snatching the the emperor's horse and leading it back to his men. Then,
"Wherever they happened to be they stood motionless, looking back to the rear and amazed beyond all belief by what they saw. It was indeed an extra-ordinary sight: the horses on which they rode were gazing to the front, but the faces of the riders turned backwards; they neither advanced nor had they any intention of wheeling about, but just stopped, dumbfounded and utterly unable to understand what had happened. The Scyths thought of home and were already on their way; they had no further interest in pursuit, but far off from both armies wandered around at random with their booty."
Anna doesn't fly around from general to general, but zooms in on smaller groups with their officers and focuses on their experiences - physical, emotional, and pyschological. She has any eye for the vivid detail too. A bit later, having switched to Bryennios, we find this episode:
"He himself, the deviser of the whole stratagem, followed immediately behind them with as many soldiers collected from his scattered forces as the circumstances demanded. At this point one of the ‘Immortals’ serving under him, a hot-headed, reckless fellow, spurred on his horse in front of the rest and slackening rein charged straight for Bryennius. He thrust his spear very hard at Bryennius’ chest, but he, drawing his sword quickly, before the spear could be driven home cut it off above the point, struck his attacker by the collar-bone, and as he bore down with all his might severed his whole arm, cutting right through his breastplate. Meanwhile the Turks riding up one after the other covered the enemy with showers of arrows. Bryennius’ men were overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of this onslaught; nevertheless they recovered and re-formed ranks. Calling upon one another to endure like men they bore the shock of the attack."
Things get worse for the general a bit later:
"But when his [Bryennios'] horse grew weary, unable either to flee or even pursue (for it was almost at its last gasp through constant chargings) Bryennius reined it in, and like some noble athlete stood ready for combat, challenging two high-born Turks to fight. One struck at him with his spear, but was not fast enough to give a heavy blow; instead he received a heavier one from Bryennius’s right arm, which, too quick for him, cut off his hand with his sword, and hand and spear rolled to the ground. The other Turk leapt down from his horse and panther-like jumped on to Bryennius’ mount, fastening himself on its flank, and there he clung desperately, trying to climb on its back. Bryennius like a wild beast kept twisting round and tried to stab him off with his sword, but without success, for the Turk behind him kept swaying to avoid the blows. Eventually his right arm tired of striking at empty air and himself worn out with fighting, Bryennius surrendered to the main body of the enemy. They seized him and like men who have won great glory took him off to Alexius. The latter was standing not far away from the place where Bryennius was taken and was at the time marshalling the Turks and his own men, encouraging them to fight."
This is remarkable stuff. There's nothing quite like this in Ammianus, Procopius, and Agathias, so far as I can remember. I'll have to look closer at Anna and her contemporaries' and near-contemporaries' accounts, but Williams' comments might not only apply to modern scholarship, but to medieval authors too. More to come...eventually...
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