74

A R T I C L E S A N D N O T E S
New England Classical Journal 41.2 (2014) 74-87
Pericles and Solon on Happiness:
Agonisic Echoes in Tucydides 2.44
Andrew W. Sweet
The Foote School, CT
e f
Many scholars have noted links between the Solon and Croesus episode in Hero-
dotus and Pericles Funeral Oration in Tucydides, but most inquiry has focused on
the concept of self-sufciency () in Herodotus 1.30-33 and Tucydides
2.41.
1
Although the verbal similarities to Solons description of the happiest life are
especially concentrated in Pericles consolation to the parents of the fallen, no one
has yet shown the purpose of the thematic links between Herodotus 1.30-33 and
Tucydides 2.44. Earlier analyses of Pericles consolation have tended to be cursory,
since the consolation section is generally not a well-regarded part of the Funeral
Oration.
2
Tucydides contemporaries, however, would have evaluated this section of
1 Rusten notes the allusion in Th. 2.41.1 to Hdt. 1.32.8-9 (1991, p. 159). Hornblower notes a possi-
ble echo (1991, p. 308) and refers to Macleod, who shows convincingly that there is, in fact, a deliberate
echo (1983, p. 151). More recently, Stadter also argues forcefully that this is a deliberate echo (2012, 55-56). In
a detailed analysis of this echo, Scanlon claims that it enables Thucydides to cast Pericles as a new Solon
and Athens as a new Persia, while also demonstrating that Pericless speech internalizes Solons external
conception of happiness (1994). Furthermore, the list of scholarship on parallels between the two authors
compiled by Hornblower shows that in respect to the Funeral Oration most attention has been given to the
custom of burial and the idea of self-suficiency. (1996, p. 141).
2 Gomme cites Herodotus story of Tellus and Solons words to Croesus as a parallel to Th. 2.44,
but his main goal is defending his emendation to (1959, p. 140-141). He also notes that
Herodotus and Thucydides both use the words and , though the latter in different senses.
75
the oration more favorably than modern critics and might have even judged it com-
mensurate to the quality that moderns assign to the rest of the speech.
3
Tucydides
allusions to the text of Herodotus function on two levels.
4
First, Tucydides rep-
resents a contest between Pericles and Solon, in which the younger statesman tries
to show himself outdoing the older. Second, the echoes also reveal aspects of the
relationship between Tucydides and Herodotus understanding of the human con-
dition and historiographical method.
5
Accordingly, after briefy discussing allusions
to Solon elsewhere in Tucydides, I will demonstrate that the Herodotean echoes
in Tucydides 2.44 signifcantly enhance the consolation and are entirely consistent
with the themes of the oration as a whole.
Tucydides never mentions Solon by name and makes only a single vague ref-
erence to his political reforms in the speech of the Corinthians at 1.71.3,
6
but com-
parisons of Solons extant poetry with Tucydides are illuminating.
7
Reconstructing
biographical details from Solons poems, Szegedy-Maszak demonstrates that Solon
provides the model for Periclean leadership in Tucydides. Both Solon and Pericles
are master rhetoricians, eschew personal enrichment, and occupy a space in the
middle or outside of ideological divides or factions; most importantly, each was
Edmunds notes that the Herodotean principle of the casualness of life makes an appearance at T. 2.44;
but, because he believes it is antithetical to the principle that Pericles is arguing in the rest of the speech, he
dismisses it: one could even say that the Herodotean principle is reduced, by comparison with the preceding
section of the Funeral Oration, to the status of a mere topos of consolation. (1975, p. 68-70). Scanlon also
notes the parallels but focuses on how the two authors use the vocabulary of happiness (, ,
and ) diferently (1994, p. 158-159).
3 See Eide, who situates T. 2.44-45 within the later literary-philosophical consolation genre and
fnds it quite appropriate. He also believes that this part of the oration is an early example of the consolation
genre and that it shows a deep sophistic infuence on Tucydides writing (1981, p. 33-45).
4 Compare Loraux, who calls Tucydides use of (T. 2.41.1) a double denial (1986, p. 154 and p.
401 n97).
5 For instance, Scanlon contrasts the external and metaphysical defnition of happiness in
Herodotus to the internal defnition in Tucydides (1994, p. 158-159). More generally, Foster and Lateiner
trace the development of scholarly views on the relationship between Herodotus and Tucydides (2012, p.
1-12), and Stadters essay in that volume argues persuasively that Tucydides followed and adapted many of
Herodotus themes and methods with admiration and respect.
6 Hornblower notes that this oblique reference to Athenian afairs being renewed includes the
political reforms of Ephialtes, Cleisthenes, and Solon, none of whom Tucydides ever mentions explicitly
(1991, p. 116).
7 Szegedy-Maszak, based on analysis of Solon fr. 4 West, argues for Solonian infuence on Tucy-
dides view of and (1998, p. 204-205). Hornblower also notes a possible Solonian infuence
in the speech of Pagondas (4.92.4), which is not relevant to the present argument (1996, p. 294).
76
the dynamic individual who enabled Athens political system to function optimally.
8

Tucydides reinforces the link most explicitly by echoing Solons
in his judgment of Pericles with .
9
Furthermore, Tu-
cydides later echoes the phrase again with
, referring to Alcibiades in book 8.
10
Tis double echo, point-
ing internally to Pericles and externally to Solon, enables Tucydides to emphasize
that, at least briefy, Alcibiades was able to fulfll his potential as a leader.
11
Te clearest, but also the simplest, echo of the Herodotean Solon does not
come in Pericles consolation to the parents; instead, it forms one of his greatest
claims for Athens and her citizens. Solon had argued that neither a land nor a per-
son could have self-sufciency:
,
,
,
.
, .
12
Pericles, on the other hand, will claim that both the city and individual citizens have
the self-sufciency that Solon denies is possible.
13
Here it is especially important
to distinguish Pericles from Tucydides. Pericles completely outdoes Solon by in-
validating one of the older thinkers main assumptions. Not only is self-sufciency
attainable, but the Athenians and their city have come as close as possible to it.
Tucydides, however, seems to undercut Pericles, since the later and most specifc
Herodotean echo is either bitterly ironic or tragic, because it occurs in Tucy-
8 Szegedy-Maszak (1998, p. 206-210).
9 Te phrase occurs in Solon fr. 36.22 and 37.7 West, in which Solon claims that another man in
his position would not have restrained the people. T. 2.65.8: he used to restrain the masses. Tis echo is
noted by Hornblower (1991, p. 346) and briefy discussed by Szegedy-Maszak (1998, p. 208-209).
10 T. 8.86.5: No other man would have been capable of restraining the mob.
11 Hornblower (2008, p. 1002).
12 Hdt. 1.32.8: It is impossible for someone, being a human, to unite all these things; just as no land
is self-sufcient by providing everything for itself, but it has one thing and lacks another. Whichever has the
most, this is the best. So also, no single human body is self-sufcient, for it has one thing but lacks another.
13 For analysis of the self-sufciency echo in T. 2.41.1, see especially Scanlon (1994, p. 145-156).
77
dides description of the plague.
14
Tucydides own claim that
contradicts Pericles assertion
that each individual Athenian shows self-sufciency.
15
Te context and usage are dif-
ferent, but, as Rusten explains, the choice of the same phrase like the placement of
the entire plague narrative immediately after the epitaphios seems almost to mock
Pericles initial optimism.
16
Te story of Solons visit to the court of Croesus in Herodotus reveals the
strong links between the family and the archaic Greek polis,
17
and so Pericles nat-
urally alludes to this story while consoling the families of the fallen soldiers.
18
So-
lon clearly illustrates his Atheno-centrism by calling Tellus of Athens the happiest
(),
19
and the reasons for Tellus happiness are also very relevant to Peri-
cles speech.
20
To describe them, Herodotus uses a long sentence built around a ...
construction that contrasts Tellus fortunate life and brilliant death:

,
, ,


,
.
21

14 Rusten calls it ironic, (1991, p. 159) and Macleod calls it tragic (1983, pg. 150-151). Scanlon ar-
gues that it does not show Pericles is boasting but rather that Tucydides is illustrating the true irony of the
divide between Athens at the height of her strength and civic harmony and Athens disorder and lawlessness
because of the chance efects of the plague (1994, p. 149).
15 T. 2.51.3: No one, not even one, constitution (strong or weak) showed itself sufcient against it.
16 Rusten (1991, p. 159).
17 Lacey (1968, p. 77-8 and p. 270 n170).
18 Scanlon notes bravery and self-sacrifce are also the positive characteristics of Solons paradig-
matically blessed individuals. (1994, p. 147).
19 Hdt. 1.30.3. Asheri et al. explain that happiness in this passage is signifed by good health, good
children, good looks, physical strength, and a good income. (2007, p. 97-98) Krischer argues that Solon, at
least, implies that the happy person also benefts his community (1993, p. 219-220).
20 Crane notes that Tellus reproduces himself, insures the continuity of his family, and plays his
role in maintaining the state. (1996, p. 73).
21 Hdt. 1.30.4-5: While his city was doing well, Tellus had good and noble sons, and he saw chil-
dren who all survived born from all of them. And when he was faring well personally, as things are reckoned
78
Tellus fortunate life consists of three elements: his city is prospering (
), his bloodline is secure (
), and he is sufciently prosperous ( ,
). Tellus death is brilliant because he died well in the midst of success (
) and because he was conspicuously
honored (
).
22
Pericles addresses all fve of these causes of happiness in the Funeral
Oration, although he subordinates the other four to the greatness of the city.
Cleobis and Biton, whom Solon judges the second in happiness (
), do not have as fortunate a life as Tellus, but they also die amidst success
and receive notable honors.
23
Te two youths have no children, and Herodotus does
not tell how well their city is faring. Tey do, however, have sufcient livelihood:
,
.
24
Cleobis and Bitons posthumous honors consist of statues
of them dedicated at Delphi, but the honor that their mother receives is the most
important part of this anecdote in relation to Pericles consolation. As the Argive
men marvel at the youths themselves, the women marvel at their mother:
,
, .
25

Solon is here making a point which may seem obvious, but is nonetheless
important, that the honor belonging to the children is transferred to their parent.
Furthermore, the use of the verb , which is essentially a poetic synonym for
,
26
implies that this transfer happens not because the mother is responsible
for her childrens nobility, but only because she is their mother. Tat is, she is praised
for having such children, not for raising such children. Te word order, with
among us, a most brilliant end to life befell him: when the Athenians had a battle, he came to help the peo-
ple around Eleusis and routed the enemy before dying most nobly; and the Athenians buried him at public
expense where he fell and honored him greatly.
22 Compare the opening of Pericles oration (Th. 2.35), where he complains that the honor of the
fallen must be risked on as well as .
23 Hdt. 1.32.1. Asheri et al. note that is the more common term for happiness and is a
synonym for here (2007, p. 102).
24 Hdt. 1.31.2: Those men, Argives by race, had suficient livelihood and, in addition, there was
the following feat of bodily strength.
25 Hdt. 1.31.3: The Argive men standing around were marveling at the strength of the youth; but
the women were marveling at the [youths] mother, at what sort of children she had.
26 See LSJ
9
on , especially I.2.b, citing this passage in Herodotus.
79
anticipated as the object of , puts her syntactically parallel to her sons as
an object of honor. Te subsequent sentence makes this idea of transferred honor
explicit:
,
,
,
.
27
Although could refer to either the mother or the goddess, it is more natural to
take it as referring to the mother, who was already mentioned, than to the goddess,
who has not yet been. Te phrase occurs in both the Tellus and
Cleobis and Biton stories but is applied in diferent ways. Tellus is the object of the
verb, but Cleobis and Biton are the subjects and their mother is the object. Tus, in
one case the person Solon labels most happy is honored greatly; in the other case,
the happy people greatly honor their mother. She may not have a share of the same
happiness as her departed sons, but Solon does show that she obtains a share of the
same honor.
Solon concludes the discussion by explaining to Croesus why he made such
judgments, and scholars have seized on this section because of its historiographical
ramifcations. Solon claims that the divine is altogether jealous and disruptive (
), which is a common Greek belief, and
Herodotus frequently cites it as a cause for changes of fortune.
28
Although the moral
version occurs at the beginning of 1.34, i.e. that the god is jealous because of the pride
that comes from success rather than success itself, Herodotus does not normally
conceive of divine jealousy in moral terms.
29
Solon then elaborately measures up
the average number of days in a human life and ends with the statement that man
is entirely chance ( , , ).
30
How
27 Hdt. 1.31.4: Since their mother was very pleased by both the deed and the fame, standing in
front of the statue she prayed that the goddess grant what is best to befall a human being to her sons Cleobis
and Biton, who honored her. Note that , a clear instance of the
/ antithesis, is of the casual or Homeric type, as Parry argues normally occurs in Herodotus
(1988, p. 49).
28 See How and Wells (1912, p. 69); Asheri et al. call it a fundamental principle in Herodotus
theology of history. (2007, p. 102).
29 Ste. Croix (1977, p. 140).
30 Hdt. 1.32.4.
80
and Wells note that this cannot mean that human life is completely random, but
rather that men are at the mercy of outside circumstances. Tey also fnd the dis-
tinction between the unlucky wealthy man and the lucky man of lesser property at
Herodotus 1.32.6 forced and inconsistent, yet Solon is building up to his ultimate
defnition of happiness.
31
He is here emphasizing the powerlessness of humans over
their own fate, since one must be even to have a chance at happiness. Solon
proceeds to distinguish from ,
32
arguing that Croesus must look to
the end () in order to fnd out about true happiness.
33
And so four key
words characterize Solon and Croesuss conversation: , , ,
and ; and three of these key words fgure prominently in Tucydides 2.44.
34
Te inefectiveness of Solons advice to Croesus contrasts markedly with the
persuasiveness of Pericles speeches to the Athenians, and this contrast exposes a
fundamental diference in the way Herodotus and Tucydides conceptualize the
ability of human intellect to understand and shape the world. Shapiro argues that,
throughout Herodotus, human wisdom can only be acquired through sufering; and
this case is no diferent, for although Croesus is unable to learn from Solons advice,
he does learn wisdom through his own misfortune.
35
Bartky even goes so far as
to deny that Solons practical wisdom has any political signifcance, claiming that
Herodotus depicts Solon only as an ethical thinker.
36
Since Croesus cannot learn
from Solons advice while it would allow him take some political action as king,
these scholars question the value of the advice. Although Herodotus typically uses
the / antithesis casually, as two sides of the same coin, the failure of
Solons words to convince Croesus and the success of Croesuss actual suferings is
31 How and Wells (1912, p. 70). Asheri et al. render as chance or coincidence and note
its typically negative connotations and importance in the immediately following story of Atys and Adrastus
(Hdt. 1.34-45) (2007, p. 103).
32 Asheri et al. explain that the key diference is that between a temporary state of well-being and a
secure, permanent one, immortalized in the memory of future generations. (2007, p. 98).
33 Asheri et al. also cite Sophocles Trach. 1f., Simonides 521 PMG, and Aeschylus Agam. 928-929
for the call no man happy until he is dead proverb (2007, p. 104).
34 Note that cognates of , which Solon uses as a synonym for in the Cleobis
and Biton story, also occur in Pericles speech at 2.44.1 and 2.44.4. Neither the noun nor the adjective
appears in Tucydides, and they are rare in Herodotus except in the story of Solon and Croesus,
which contains sixteen of the twenty Herodotean uses. See Crane for more on / in Archaic and
Classical Greek (1996, especially the chart on 62).
35 Shapiro (1994, p. 350).
36 Bartky (2002, p. 462-463).
81
like Parrys popular type of the antithesis, in which the real and entirely knowable
is privileged over false and empty .
37
Pericles words are more persuasive
than Solons, and yet, as is the case with the self-sufciency echo discussed above,
Tucydides subtly suggests ambivalence about Pericles rhetorical abilities. Whereas
Pericles claims at 2.41.4 that the Athenians do not need someone who will give them
pleasure for a moment with words ( ), he himself
argues at 2.44.4 that being honored gives more pleasure () to people late in
life than material gain does. Pericles is here using his words to please his audience
much as a poet does, or perhaps even like the logographers, from whom Tucydides
carefully distinguishes himself at 1.21.1.
38
Tus, unlike Herodotus, Tucydides shows
that can have power over , but he implies that it is only a feeting pow-
er, even when wielded by a master rhetorician like Pericles.
39
For the Tucydidean Funeral Oration, the discussion of Solon and Croesus
in Herodotus forms an important background. Tellus is an obvious prototype for
the fallen warriors whom Pericles is eulogizing,
40
and competing with one of the
great statesmen of the past, Solon, seems quite natural for Pericles. Pericles claim
that both Athens and her citizens are extremely self-sufcient is an agonistic echo
of Solons statement that there is no self-sufciency, and Tucydides makes Peri-
cles engage and defeat Solon in this intellectual contest.
41
Whereas advice alone is
inefectual for Solon, Pericles maintains the supremacy of the action of the intel-
ligence; Pericles can even help the Athenians unite and , rather than
privileging one over the other like Solon.
42
In Herodotus, Solon has virtually no po-
37 Whereas Solon (Hdt. 1.33) leads Croesus simply to send him away, Cyrus
(Hdt. 1.86.3) causes Croesus realization of his folly on the pyre. See Parry, who cites
(Hdt. 3.135) as an example of the casual type of antithesis, where words and action are
juxtaposed without any clear indication that they are fundamentally diferent (1988, p. 47-50). Parry cites the
pairing of the talkative and inefectual Samian Hegesistratus and the taciturn but active Spartan Leutychides,
exemplifyed by (Hdt. 9.92, referring to the Spartan), as an
instance of the popular type. Parry also notes that the earliest appearance of the popular type is in Solon fr. 11
West.
38 Grethlein (2005, p. 46-47).
39 Parry (1988, p. 185). See also Tsakmakis, arguing that, between Tucydides and Herodotus,
thematic and stylistic afnities ultimately evoke a comparison which is designed to stress the ideological gap
which divides Tucydides from his predecessor. (1995, p. 29).
40 Gomme (1959, p. 140-141).
41 As noted above, the later echo in Tucydides description of the plague mentioned above calls
Pericles victory into question.
42 Parry (1988, p. 159 and 163).
82
litical signifcance, but Pericles guidance has brought to the Athenians a new form
of polity that is opposed to the traditional form of the city; this new polity is based
on the rational choice of the Athenians rather than what Edmunds calls objectively
posited laws demanding irrational obedience.
43
Yet Pericles is not simply attacking Solon, for he uses many pointed allusions
to the older Athenians advice to Croesus in the consolation to the parents at 2.44.
In fact, Tucydides is paying tribute to Herodotus by recalling and reworking the
major themes from the conversation of Solon and Croesus in such a rhetorical-
ly and thematically signifcant speech.
44
Although cognates of , ,
and are not strikingly rare in either Herodotus or Tucydides,
the general parallels between Solon and Pericles in Tucydides and the clear echo of
Solons self-sufciency argument earlier in Pericles speech make it very likely that
Tucydides is consciously alluding to Herodotus.
45
Edmunds suggests that Pericles
refers to these older ideas both in thought and diction as a shallow appeal to the
older members of the audience,
46
but the reason is deeper. Just as elsewhere in the
speech, Pericles uses traditional Athenian ideas in a new way:

, , ,
, ,
.
47
Tree of the key words from Solons explanation, , , and
occur in quick succession, and recalls Solons long reckoning of the
misfortunes that might befall a man.
48
Te fnal relative clause, which refers specif-
43 Edmunds (1975, p. 45).
44 As Stadter argues, Sometimes rejection of an admired earlier writer and reformulation of his
ideas are the strongest praise a successor can give. (2012, p. 40).
45 Baragwanath even argues that Xenophon, recognizing the link between these passages in Hero-
dotus and Tucydides, adds a third voice to this dialogue with the speech of Procles in Hell. 7.1.2-11 (2012, p.
334-338).
46 Edmunds (1975, p. 69). Gomme also notes similarity (1959, p. 140-141).
47 T. 2.44.1: Tey knew that they were raised amid very changeable fortunes; and there is happi-
ness for whoever, like these men here, gets what is most brilliant: in their case, death; and in yours, grief; and
[there is happiness] for whoever has life measured out alike to be happy in and to die in.
48 See Hdt. 1.32.2-4. Furthermore, recalls the of Cleobis and Biton
(Hdt. 1.31.1). Huart notes that is the more common word for happiness in Tucydides, with
83
cally to the dead as those for whom life was measured out alike to be happy in and
to die in, especially recalls Solons words.
49
Yet these traditional ideas are contrasted
by the novelty of the expression: the two - infnitive compounds are neologisms
and the syntax extravagantly rhetorical, with the strained relative clauses and the
abrupt changes of person, mood, and tense.
50
Far from undermining this sentence,
the contrast of new and old, of innovative and traditional, mimics the polis itself. As
Edmunds explains,
Athens opposes the traditional form of the state; but while opposing it,
Athens loses nothing of what was valuable in that form. Athens is rather a
synthesis of the best of the old with her own innovations. For this reason
and it is this character, the city as expression of subjectivity, which is the
real theme of the Funeral Oration appears as a combination of opposite
qualities.
51
Terefore, when Pericles tries to lessen the parents grief with rational argument, he
is acting according to what he has asserted is the Athenians governing principle.
Furthermore, such an approach probably would not have displeased the Athenians
in the same way as modern critics, since Eide shows that logical arguments and
philosophical precepts are the remedies ofered against grief throughout antiquity.
52
After remarking on the difculty of his task,
53
Pericles distinguishes the parents
of the fallen into those who can still have children and those who are too old. Te
thought that new children can make up for lost ones occurs elsewhere in both ear-
lier and later Greek,
54
but the weight here is on the beneft to the city. How gaining
citizens can be benefcial is clear, but the safety that Pericles cites must be explained:

appearing here for the frst time in extant Greek literature and cognates of
occuring only seven times in Tucydides, usually with a sense of material prosperity (1968, p. 66-67).
49 Note that Pericles does not here follow the distinction between / and
that Solon explains to Croesus.
50 Edmunds (1975, p. 69-70).
51 Edmunds (1975, p. 46).
52 Eide (1981, p. 33-34).
53 Compare his remarks at the beginning of the speech (T. 2.35.2).
54 Eide gives some examples (1981, p. 38).
84
.
55
Not only is this clause part of a rational argu-
ment, but the argument itself also explicitly values rational judgment. Pericles sets
the public and rational above the personal and traditional in the consolation, just as
in the rest of his oration.
Te parents who can no longer have children have their own separate consola-
tion, the content of which has especially ofended modern critics.
56
Pericles advises
them to privilege the longer, happy part of their lives over the short time that is left
to them, during which .
57
Although the next sentence
goes on to speak of being honored, this relief is an internal process.
58
Te verb
literally means to make light or to relieve (of a burden),
59
and so the
parents can get some pleasure from contemplation of the fame of the fallen, but
there is no claim that they are honored. Tus, a small logical hole appears in this part
of Pericles argument, but the allusions to Herodotus allow the reader to complete
Pericles reasoning. As Hornblower argues, there are occasions in narrative and
speeches, when Tucydides would be barely intelligible, or actually unintelligible, to
a reader who did not know Herodotus very well.
60
Tis is one such occasion, since
the principle of transferred honor from Solons Cleobis and Biton story is necessary
for the logic here. Furthermore, the frst group of parents has an important ele-
ment in common with Tellus. Tellus secure bloodline was one of the reasons for his
happiness, and the parents who can still have children also have the possibility of a
secure bloodline. For the parents who cannot have children, there is only the honor
that accrues from their sons deaths, just as Cleobis and Bitons mother has honor
alone. But the allusion gains even more force, since Cleobis and Bitons mother was
.
61
As was stated above, Herodotus uses
the / antithesis casually; but the antithesis becomes more powerful
through the Tucydidean allusion. Te parents of the dead come close to mimicking
their dead sons unifcation of and .
55 T. 2.44.3: Fair or just counsel cannot be taken if someone does not run the risk while staking
his children equally.
56 See especially Eide (1981, p. 39).
57 T. 2.44.4: Be relieved by the good repute of these men here [the dead].
58 Scanlon (1994, p. 158).
59 See LSJ9 on this word, especially meaning II.2.b.
60 Hornblower (1996, p. 123).
61 Hdt. 1.31.4.
85
One might object that, if Pericles had really wanted to rely on Solons themes, he
could have used more of Solons argumentation. Te standard interpretation, how-
ever, faults Pericles for relying too heavily on traditional ideas that do not ft the
context of the Funeral Oration. Te answer, as I have argued, is that the consolation
to the parents mirrors Pericles conception of the city: both are innovative combina-
tions of the old and the new. Te Funeral Oration celebrates Athenian rationalism
and the power that this rationalism has over chance, and so there should be no
need for a consolation. Since the Athenians are defned in relation to their rational
judgment that the city is the greatest good, there should be no need for categories
of the bereaved. Yet innovation cannot totally break down familial ties, since parents
cannot defne themselves as citizens alone. And so Pericles, although forming his
thoughts as rational argument, must look to an earlier thinker for his consolation.
Familial piety is an element of the Athenian character that predates this new Ath-
ens, and Pericles must recall an anecdote that also predates his formulation of the
city in order to properly deal with the grief of the bereaved. For Tucydides the
historian, this allusive passage is one part of the process of engagement and compe-
tition with the historiographical method of his predecessor, Herodotus.
62

62 Compare Stadter, arguing that Tucydides did not entirely reject the historical programme of
Herodotus, but admired and absorbed Herodotus work, and responded in a way which he thought better
expressed some of Herodotus insights. (2012, p. 39).
86
Works Cited
Asheri, David, Alan Lloyd, and Aldo Corcella. A Commentary on Herodotus
IIV. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007.
Baragwanath, Emily. A Noble Alliance: Herodotus, Tucydides, and Xenophons
Procles, Tucydides and Herodotus. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2012: 316-344.
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88
A R T I C L E S A N D N O T E S
New England Classical Journal 41.2 (2014) 88-111
Herodotus, Diodorus, and Manetho: An
Examination of the Infuence of Egyptian
Hisoriography on the Classical Hisorians
Jared Krebsbach
The University of Memphis
e f
I NT RODUCT I ON
Constructing ancient Egyptian chronology is a multi-disciplined study that requires
the historian to have a working knowledge of archeology, philology, and at least a
basic grasp of the classical historians surviving works which concern, at least part-
ly, the history of Egypt. Te three classical historians most often cited by mod-
ern scholars in regard to ancient Egyptian history are Herodotus, Diodorus, and
Manetho, and although each of these produced works that are unique, they also used
much of the same source material and employed some of the same historiographical
methods. As any historian knows, the sources of a historical narrative are extremely
important because they can determine the accuracy and importance of any narrative
being compiled, but oftentimes mistakes in modern narratives are not the result of
the ancients recording information incorrectly, but of modern scholars misinterpret-
ing why the ancients recorded such information.
Mario Liverani proposed that modern scholars of ancient Near Eastern texts
should be careful to view the document as a source for the knowledge of itself i.e.,
as a source of the knowledge on the author of the document, whom we know from
89
the document itself.
1
He argued that, by taking this approach and by viewing texts
from from all possible points of view,
2
we can begin to answer why certain texts
were written. Although the purpose of Liveranis thesis was to better comprehend
texts from ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, and the Levant, this method can be ap-
plied here to these classical historians at least their chapters which concern Egypt
since much of their source material was derived from native sources. It is not
the intent of this paper to dissect and determine what parts of the writings of the
classical historians are truthful concerning Egyptian history and chronology (other
scholars have already aptly done this
3
) but rather to determine why they wrote what
they did. When the classical historians chapters on Egypt are viewed through this
prism, then modern scholarship can more accurately discern what aspects of their
writings were determined by Greek historiographical traditions and those that were
the result of the Egyptian philosophy of history. Ultimately, this study will show
that Greek and Egyptian historical traditions often converged to create a narrative
history of Egypt that was at times factually correct in a modern or even ancient
Greek sense but also full of motifs that appear as ahistorical to modern scholars,
but were rather logical in the Egyptian historiographical sense. Such an examina-
tion also demonstrates the importance of the Egyptian priesthood in transmitting
the historical record, since they were the primary vehicle for this historiographical
convergence as they controlled the information that the classical historians would
record.
T HE ANCI ENT GREEK V I EW OF E GY P T
AND T HE E GY P T I ANS
Since this study concerns an investigation into Greeks who wrote about Egyptian
history,
4
a brief examination of the general view that the Greeks took towards
Egyptians is warranted here.
5
Tomas Harrison has noted that the Greek perspec-
1 Liverani (1973, p. 179).
2 Ibid., p. 180.
3 Te most notable scholar to conduct an in-depth study of the historical veracity of Herodotus
Book II is Lloyd (1975-1989). Also see Lloyd (1988, p. 22-53).
4 Manetho of course presents a slightly diferent problem as he was a Hellenized Egyptian.
5 It is outside of the scope of this paper to discuss the basic Greek concept of history. Te assump-
tion here is that most reading this are already somewhat familiar with the literature, but for those who are
90
tive of Egypt was complex, but not antagonistic, as was their relationship with the
Achaemenid Persians.
6
Te Greek perspective of Egypt could range from admira-
tion to a patronizing attitude towards the perceived exotic nature of the Egyptians.
Roger Matthews Cornelia Roemer writes:
Te perspective on Egypt may be described as openness towards the skills
of the people from the Nile Valley, admiration, maybe, for what they could
do in handling stone and other materials, and for their ability to produce
life-size or even larger sculpture and to assemble columns higher and
bigger than any living tree.
7
Donald Lateiner adds that the Greeks possessed a ftful awareness of cultural rel-
ativism
8
that allowed their culture to thoughtfully assimilate alien ideas.
9
Despite
this respect for the barbarian Egyptians, Oswyn Murray has pointed out that the
idea continued throughout Greek history where a tension between the real barbar-
ian world and its Greek stereotype is never absent from the best Hellenistic prose
writers.
10
Alan Lloyd notes that Herodotus in particular was no stranger to demon-
strating the diferences between Egyptian and Greek cultures and that everything
in Egypt was topsy-turvy as compared with Greek customs.
11
Lloyd also writes that
despite the curiosity inherent in Herodotus and other Greek writers about foreign
cultures, there was still a marked attitude that they were diferent from the Greeks.
12

Harrison further adds to these observations by arguing that the Greek perception
of the other was intensifed and became better articulated as a result of the Persian
Wars.
13
One must consider this important aspect of Greek historiography when us-
not there are a number of erudite titles on the subject. On the origins of Greek history, see Momigliano
(1990); Fornara (1988). For a good general and accessible study see Murray (2001, p. 214-39). On the relation-
ship between the Greek historian and the his audience, the public, see Malitz (1990, p. 323-49 esp. 327-34).
Tis is not meant to be an exhaustive or even comprehensive list, but a good place to start for the uninitiated.
6 Harrison (2003, p. 146).
7 Matthews and Roemer (2003, p. 13).
8 Lateiner (1989, p. 103).
9 Ibid.
10 Murray (1970, p. 166).
11 Lloyd (1975-1989, Vol 1, p. 141).
12 Ibid., p. 153.
13 Harrison (2003, p. 146).
91
ing the Greek, Hellenistic, and even Roman historians as primary sources of ancient
Egyptian chronology. Despite oftentimes reporting factually correct events, peoples,
and places, there is always a degree of bias in the writing of the classical historians,
manifested in various forms of chauvinism concerning non-Greeks.
14
T HE ANCI ENT E GY P T I AN P HI L OS OP HY
OF HI S TORY
In terms of historical thought, the Egyptians had no word for history itself, which,
when one considers the current topic is of considerable signifcance.
15
Redford
further argued that the Egyptians had no true historiography as modern historians
know it; instead Egyptian historical texts can be divided into mythology and record
keeping. He writes:
Te search for a form of Egyptian composition (during pharaonic times)
to which we could apply the term historiography has thus come to an
abrupt end: we cannot fnd one. Rather, we fnd our inquiry suddenly
defected into an exercise concerned more with what might be called the
form, transmission and use of national traditions. Here the road divides.
One branch leads into a study of mythology since, as pointed out above,
this is one form the national tradition takes in the thoroughly Egyptian
way of interpreting the past. Te other leads into an analysis of records
and record keeping, for putting into writing the events of the immediate
past was the traditional way of demonstrating the thoroughly Egyptian
tenet of the continuum of history.
16
Redford explains that his defnition of historiography revolves primarily around
history writing in a classical sense
17
(i.e. a narrative written to edify those in the
present concerning the successes and failures of peoples of the past) and that Egyp-
14 In the case of Diodorus, who was a citizen of the late Roman Republic and early Roman Empire,
the Romans are considered here as inhabitants, descendants, and inheritors of the same cultural sphere
and civilization as the Greeks. Tey also held the same views towards the non-Greco-Roman world as the
Greeks.
15 Redford (1986, p. xiii).
16 Ibid., p. xv-xvi.
17 Ibid., p. xvi.
92
tologists need to establish a discipline-specifc practice of evaluating historical
texts from the Egyptian perspective, as opposed to the modern defnition of the
word which is directly based on the Greek concept.
18
Although Redford is correct in
arguing that Egyptologists need to view Egyptian historical texts from the perspec-
tive of the Egyptians by considering the audience and the message they intended to
send with any particular text instead of viewing Egyptian historical texts through
the prism of Greco-Roman or modern historiography one should not discount
Egyptian texts as lacking historicity. One must consider the Egyptian historical
tradition in all its aspects in order to determine if there was any infuence on the
classical historians.
Te Egyptian historical tradition, or historiography
19
in the sense of texts that
record and relate Egypts past, can be placed primarily into three categories: king-lists,
annals, and biographies. All three of these historical genres represented in welcher
Weise die gypter selbst ihre geschichtliche berlieferung weitergegeben und be-
trachtet haben.
20
While Egyptian king-lists represent perhaps the best known of all
the categories of Egyptian historiography, Redford argues that there exists only one
true king-list in Egyptian history the so-called Turin Canon.
21
Tere are also other
king-lists, or groupings of kings as Redford calls them,
22
known today. Te historical
purpose of Egyptian king-lists went beyond a mere chronology, but also represent-
ed a spiritual and royal connection of the present king with his long dead ances-
tors. King-lists were not meant to edify the present as Greco-Roman and modern
historiography does, but to legitimize the reigning king. Roberto Gozzoli writes:

18 Ibid.
19 Te author will use the term historiography here to refer to any Egyptian text that recorded any
events, occurrences, or genealogies. It is true that narrative historical writing began with the Greeks, but to
say that the genre of Egyptian texts discussed below cannot be classifed as historiography is an argument
that cannot be settled and best left for another study.
20 Helck (1956, p. 1).
21 Redford (1986, p. 1-2). For the publication of the Turin Canon, see Gardiner (1959).
22 Redford (1986, p. 2). After the Turin Canon, which he considers to be the only true king-list, he
divides other lists into: royal cultic assemblages of deceased kings (Abydos and Tebes), cultic assemblages
of deceased kings (private, Memphis), private lists of royal names in cartouches (Tebes), royal late New
Kingdom lists (Tebes), kings mentioned in private titularies and related texts, sequences of kings names
in genealogies, and miscellaneous examples (1986, p. 18-64). For a less detailed but informative study of the
Egyptian king-lists, see Bull (1983, p. 7-9).
93
Most of the kings lists are essentially cultic. Tey come from temples
Tutmose IIIs Room of the Ancestors at Karnak, Sethi I and Ramesses
II from Abydos, Ramesses IIs Ramesseum and Ramesses IIIs Medinet
Habu and are celebrative: the ruling pharaoh is represented as ofering
to his predecessors, who are distant temporally, or venerable for fame or
antiquity. In efect, the reverence to illustrious ancestors was probably
dependent from the legitimacy they cried for: Tutmose III wanted to
reassert his rights after stepmother Hatshepsut disappeared from the
scene. In the case of the Ramessides (Sethi I and Ramesses II, Ramesses
III), they feared to be considered as parvenus. Terefore, a desire to create
links with legitimate kings was at the base of this appropriation of the
past.
23
While it should be noted (as Gozzoli states) that most of the king-lists come from
temples, many of these lists also derive from private tombs and biographical inscrip-
tions, which raises an important question: was the function the same? Considering
the perspective and context of these private king-lists they were created in a fu-
nerary/ritualistic setting the function appears to be the same, writing history to
connect an individual with the past, not as a record for posterity. Te biographical
texts mentioned above were written primarily in the Late Period,
24
with many dis-
playing a genealogy that spans over 750 years.
25
Te chronological scope and histori-
cal knowledge of previous kings demonstrated by the individuals, such as Khnumi-
bra, demonstrates that private individuals also possessed a sense of their historical
past. But the function of the biographies, similar to the king-lists, revolves around
a connection with the past in a religious and ritualistic manner rather than for the
consideration of future generations.
Perhaps the most historical representatives of all Egyptian genres of writing,
and which therefore needs to be considered in this study, are the various histori-
23 Gozzoli (2006, p. 7).
24 Redford (1986, p. 62); Bull (1983, p. 10). Te precise dating of the Late Period is open to conjec-
ture, but the author refers here to the period which began with the Nubian king Piankhys conquest of Egypt
and establishment of the Twenty Fifth Dynasty (ca. 728 BC) until Alexander the Greats conquest. Te
ancient Egyptians had a long tradition of nobles and viziers inscribing biographies in their tombs going back
to the Old Kingdom, but it is during the Late Period when these inscriptions became more intricate.
25 Bull (1983, p. 10). One of the longer Late Period genealogies published is an ofering table of the
ofcial Khnumibra. He traces his genealogy from the Twenty Seventh Dynasty back to king Djoser of the
Tird Dynasty, a span of well over 2,000 years. For the publication, see Posener (1936, p. 92-107).
94
cal annals that were written throughout pharaonic history. Te word for annals in
Egyptian, gnwt, is probably the nearest to the modern English word history that
exists in the ancient Egyptian lexicon.
26
More specifcally, the word gnwt has an
etymological origin that may involve recordkeeping and writing.
27
Te tradition of
writing historical annals in ancient Egypt can be dated to at least the Fifth Dynasty,
possibly earlier,
28
the oldest extant one being the so called Palermo Stone, which
has been housed in the Palermo museum since 1887.
29
Historical annals continued
to be written throughout Egyptian history, with some of the more detailed coming
from the Eighteenth Dynasty during the reign of Tutmose III which recalled his
numerous exploits in the Levant and Nubia in inscriptions at Tebes.
30
Te ancient
Egyptian annals were considered impressive enough in ancient times that Herodo-
tus more than once registers his admiration for their gifts.
31
T HE CONV ERGI NG OF GREEK AND E GY P T I AN
HI S TORI OGRAP HY
When Egypt lost its political independence, in what is commonly referred to as
the Late Period, its cultural vibrancy did not diminish; in fact some argue that the
tension of foreign occupation led to a new awakening in the arts. Many of the most
magnifcent and enduring temples were built during this time and the sculpture
became more detailed and gradually moved towards portraiture.
32
Foreign infuences
may also have helped to change Egyptian historiographical traditions at this time
as well. Recently, Antonio Loprieno has proposed the thesis that, due to Egypts
expanding knowledge of the outside world, a new multi-layered historiography
developed in eight century BC Egypt that reached its peak in the Ptolemaic Peri-
26 Bull (1983, p. 3n).
27 Redford (1986, p. 67).
28 Te king Den label from the First Dynasty, currently housed in the British Museum #EA 32650,
may be an example of an earlier or proto annal as it mentions the frst occasion of smiting the east, accom-
panied by a rnpt or year sign. Spencer (1980).
29 Bull (1983, p. 4); for an English translation of the stone, see Breasted (2001, p. 76-167).
30 For English translations of Tutmose IIIs exploits see Breasted (2001, p. 175-217).
31 Redford (1986, p. 65). For an example see Hdt. II.77.
32 Te best survey and analysis of Late Period Egyptian art was conducted and published by Both-
mer (1969). Otto argued in an earlier study that Egypts knowledge of and tension with the outside world
during the Late Period led to a collective soul searching that inspired new art (1954, p. 2-3).
95
od.
33
Loprieno argues that in the Late Period, the way Egyptians viewed their past
changed from a reproductive to a productive history:
In New Kingdom king lists, such as those in Abydos, Saqqarah or Tebes,
the chronological sequence of clearly identifed names of past kings is
placed at the service of the present kings power display. Te very topos
of surpassing past achievements conforms in fact to this ideological
model, because the present is always presented as following in the pasts
footsteps, i.e. as adhering to the existing interpretive paradigm. In the
Late Period, this type of reproductive historical knowledge is challenged,
and to a certain extent superseded, by a less sequential view of the past
in which periods and individuals often acquire mythical traits: the past
is remembered, retrieved and also productively reconstructed in a variety
of texts ranging from literary to religious, with a frequent juxtaposition
of fgures and times. . . Reconstructed history thus equals mythical
as opposed to archival history, the history of a past that has acquired
symbolic cultural relevance for the present, but that cannot be easily
segmented in a sequential way; a point in illo tempore that linguists might
call a perfective aspect.
34
He further states that the ideology of a native victory over the foreign rulers of
Egypt manifested itself in the third century BC.
35
Loprieno provides a valuable con-
tribution to modern historiography with his assessment of Egyptian historiography
in the Late Period and the infuences it received as the result of contact with for-
eigners, but his theory does little to explain what, if any, infuence Egyptian culture,
historiography, and historical thought had on Herodotus, Diodorus, and Manetho.
Loprieno is correct in arguing that the Egyptian concept of history and historiog-
raphy changed as a result of foreign infuence and domination, but one would be
remiss to overlook Egypts infuence on Greek historiography. A detailed examina-
tion on the writings of the ancient historians will help to determine if there was an
Egyptian infuence on their writings and if so, to what extent. Was it merely super-
fcial coloring or was there a more profound infuence that stemmed directly from
the Egyptian concept of history?
33 Loprieno (2003, p. 139-40).
34 Ibid., p. 141-2.
35 Ibid., p. 146.
96
HERODOT US AND HI S P HI L OS OP HY OF HI S TORY
Te frst of the three historians to be discussed here is Herodotus, due primarily to
both the chronological primacy of his work and the dominant infuence of his His-
tories both in and out of academia. In order to better understand the historian from
Halicarnassuss philosophy of history, a brief assessment of his sources, objectives,
and methodology must frst be performed. Herodotus gathered most of his infor-
mation from two sources things he observed frsthand and oral testimony,
36
which
was usually, at least in the case of Egypt, in the form of the accounts of scribes and
priests.
37
Compared to his observational and oral sources, the amount of source ma-
terial he collected from existing libraries concerning Egypt appears to be negligible,
because Hecataeus of Miletus is the only known Greek historian before Herodotus
who wrote on Egypt, although Herodotus does mention him. Obviously there can
be many problems associated with oral testimony as a source for writing a historical
narrative,
38
even if those entrusted with the protection of the historical knowledge
try their best to be as unbiased as possible in their transmission of said knowledge
from generation to generation because in the course of three or four generations
they undergo considerable changes.
39
Te changes in these oral transmissions were
further aggravated in Herodotus case by his lack of knowledge of any non-Greek
language, but despite this barrier his information was probably more correct than
not.
40
Despite the occasional unreliability of oral accounts, Herodotus was able to
collect and observe enough factual evidence to comprise a fairly reliable account of
many aspects of Egyptian culture and history.
36 Asheri (2007, p. 15); Lloyd (1988, p. 23-25).
37 In II.28 for instance, Herodotus describes how a scribe from the Temple of Neith related to him
the source of the Nile River. In II.120 Herodotus stated that the Egyptian priests gave him their own version
of the story of Helen and the start of the Trojan War. More importantly for the current study, in II.100 where
Herodotus related his jumbled version of Egyptian chronology, he stated that the priests read to him from
a list of over 300 kings. Tis may have come from a copy of the above discussed Turin Canon and/or other
king-lists. Lloyd points out that the problem that the non-Egyptologist is inclined to credit Ancient Egyp-
tian priests with greater expertise than they possessed . . . and that the range of sacred and profane learning
amongst them would have varied very considerably. (1988, p. 25). Te level of knowledge or education of the
priests who Herodotus received his accounts from is important when considering their veracity as historical
sources but not why they recounted what they did.
38 For the inherent problems of oral history transmissions, see Vansina (1985, especially p. 3-32).
39 Asheri (2007, p. 16).
40 Ibid., p. 17. Lloyd (1988, p. 52).
97
One of the more interesting and correct observations Herodotus made is his listing
of twenty Achaemenid satrapies and the tribute they paid to the Great King (III.89-
95). Tere are numerous known satrapal lists that were commissioned by Achae-
menid kings, most of which fuctuated in numbers, but all known lists comprise
at least twenty.
41
Herodotus source of this list is unknown, he may have acquired it
from a documentary source,
42
but Hecataeus may also have been consulted.
43
Te
possibility may also be that he learned of the list from one of his observations. Since
Herodotus never visited Persia proper, he did not view the lists at Susa or Persepo-
lis, but he may have come into contact with one of the satrapal lists in Egypt. Te
possibilities here include the Darius Statue from Susa
44
and the Red Sea Canal
stelae from the reign of Darius I.
45
Herodotus even mentions the/a statue of Darius
(II.110). Although he stated that the priests would not allow it to be erected at the
Ptah Temple in Memphis, he did not elaborate if it was placed somewhere else or
if he personally observed it. Considering that Herodotus usually cited inscriptions,
he probably would have specifed it if he received his satrapal list from the Darius
Statue or the Red Sea Canal stelae, but at the same time one cannot absolutely
dismiss these texts as his source since he did not always give credit to his sources.
46

Although Herodotus satrapal list and the numerous other monuments he observed
frsthand may be placed in a separate category of source material from the oral his-
tories, they were still for the most part subject to the cooperation and interpretation
of the Egyptian priests.
47

41 For instance, the Red Sea Canal stelae and Statue of Darius I, lists twenty-four satrapies. Other
prominent inscriptions from Persia include: DPe, which lists twenty-fve, the eastern staircase which depicts
twenty-three, and DNa, which lists thirty satrapies respectively. For a translation of DPe and DNa inscrip-
tions, see Kent (1953). For the staircase, see Schmidt (1953); Walser (1966).
42 Lateiner (1989, p. 102).
43 Ibid., p. 101. Lateiner expounds on this point adding that the actual sources of Herodotus
knowledge of Median and Persian life and history are impossible to identify with precision. He mentions
personal observations and Persian reports that he had himself heard; once he refers to a Persian inscription;
he mentions the scholars noted above; often of course, no source at all is identifed.
44 Te Darius Statue was discovered in Susa in 1972 and is now housed in the Iran National Mu-
seum. For its original publication, see Kervan (1972, p. 235-266). For commentary on the statue, see Stronach
(1972, p. 240-6). For the original hieroglyphic transcription and French translation, see Yoyotte (1972, p. 253-
266). For the cuneiform transcriptions and French translations, see Vallat (1974, p. 161-170); (1972, p. 247-251).
45 For the publication of the Red Sea Canal stelae, see Posener (1936, p. 48-87).
46 Lateiner (1989, p. 101).
47 Another example is when Herodotus described the entrance gates of king Rhampsinitus no
98
T HE E GY P T I AN P RI ES T S AS A S OURCE F OR
HERODOT US
With so much of Herodotus information on Egyptian history coming directly or
indirectly from the priests, one must consider the importance of them as a source
of Egyptian historical memory and the infuence they had on not only Herodotus
narrative, but also the works of Diodorus and Manetho. As noted above, the priests
read to Herodotus from a list 330 kings all of them Egyptians except eighteen, who
were Ethiopians (II.100). If Herodotus had access to the Turin Canon through an
Egyptian proxy, then why was the chronology so garbled? For instance Rhampsini-
tus (Ramesses) is listed as the king who immediately preceded the Fourth Dynasty
king Cheops (Khufu) (II.124), while the chronology of the Twenty Fifth and Twenty
Sixth Dynasty kings is fairly accurate. With the post-Ramesses II kings one must
assume that his information was derived from a list no longer extant, or as yet un-
discovered, since the Turin Canon ends with the reign of Ramesses II. Loprieno
believes that the inconsistencies in Herodotus king-list has more to do with the
cultural shift in Egypt that took place during the First Millennium, as was discussed
above, than any apparent problem with Egyptian chronology or historiography.
48

Loprienos theory also implies that Herodotus chronological problems were the re-
sult of an unconscious view of the past by the Egyptians collectively rather than a
conscious efort by the priests to omit or amend the deeds of certain kings, according
to their opinions, when they related the king-list to Herodotus. A good example of
the Egyptians relating their own nuanced view of Egyptian history to Herodotus,
and thereby infuencing his work, concerns the account of Khufu.
Khufu is described by Herodotus as a terrible and unpopular king who closed
the temples, forced his subjects to build his pyramid, and even prostituted his own
daughter in order to acquire funds needed to fnish the project (II.124-26). So then,
why does Herodotus dedicate so much negative attention to Khufu? Te answer
to this question and the problem with the chronology lies not with Herodotus,
and goes beyond the idea of a cultural and political break with the past as argued
by Loprieno, but can be found with the priests who gave him that information. In
his account of Egyptian chronology, Herodotus was merely an intellectual pawn of
doubt a Ramesside king and probably Ramesses II erected at the Temple of Hephaestus in Memphis in
II.121. He was no doubt given this information by the priests because he would have been unable to read any
Egyptian inscription on the pylons. His description also shows that he was not sure of the true function of a
pylon as they were much more than a mere gate.
48 Loprieno (2003, p. 150).
99
the Egyptian priests who dictated either directly or indirectly not only what kings
he would write about, but how they were to be remembered. For reasons yet to be
determined, which are outside of the scope of the current paper, Khufu was not a
popular king with the Egyptian priests in the ffth century BC
49
and Herodotus, not
being able to read Egyptian, had no choice but to report what they told him. Te
Egyptian priesthood transferred their historical memory and historiography, which
was based on their opinions and politics, into Herodotus narrative and with it part
of the Egyptian sense of history also seeped into Te Histories.
DI ODORUS S I CULUS AND E GY P T I AN HI S TORY
Diodorus Siculus Library of History, Book I, is as important as Herodotus Histo-
ries and more so concerning the chronology of fourth century BC since Herodotus
work ends with the frst Persian occupation of Egypt. Diodorus stated (I.46.7) that
he used the Egyptian priests as a source for his history, but that does not mean he
collected the information himself, and some argue that it is almost certain that he
is drawing upon earlier authors who in turn claimed to have acquired their infor-
mation from the Egyptians.
50
One of the primary authors that Diodorus consulted
was the Greek historian Hecataeus of Abdera.
51
Hecataeus of Abderas major his-
torical work on Egypt, Aigyptiaka, exists today only in fragments
52
and biographical
information about the historian is sparse. Hecataeus hailed from Abdera, which was
frst founded as a colony of Clazomenae in Trace and had trading ties to Egypt and
the Near East.
53
He possibly served at the court of Ptolemy Soter of Egypt and may
have been in contact with the Egyptian priest and historian Manetho
54
around the
time his work on Egypt was written between about 320 B.C. and 315 B.C., or before
49 Lloyd believes the negative view of Khufu were the result of Egyptian folk elements that Hero-
dotus used as source material (1975-1989, II.3.63).
50 Burton (1972, p. 2).
51
51
Murray (1970, p. 144). C. H. Oldfather added that he based his account of the customs of the
Egyptians upon Agatharchides of Cnidus, an historian and geographer of the 2nd century B.C., for his
geographical data, and especially for the description of the Nile (cc. 32-41.3) and upon Herodotus. Oldfather
(2004, p. xxvi).
52 Jacoby (1940, p. 11-64; 1954, p. 29-87).
53 Dillery (1998, p. 256).
54 Dillery (1999, p. 109).
100
305 B.C. at the latest.
55
Diodorus apparently visited Egypt, like Herodotus before him, to gather evi-
dence for Book I during the 180th Olympiad in the reign of Ptolemy (I.44.1).
56
Te
sources used by Diodorus in his history of Egypt, like those used by Herodotus,
are extremely important when one considers the nature of his work namely what
parts are Greek and what parts are Egyptian. Unlike Herodotus, who had few writ-
ten sources to use, Diodorus, in the frst century BC, was much more fortunate in
that respect. As stated above, Diodorus apparently used the writings of the previous
historian Hecataeus for much of his Book I of the Library of History, but other his-
torians also provided source material.
57
Oldfather believed that Diodorus made no
pretense of doing anything more than giving a convenient summary of events which
were to be found in greater detail in many works.
58
With that said, he also thought
that Diodorus still imparted his personal stamp on the work because concerning the
sources he used he picked and chose more widely and more wisely than has been
allowed him by most critics.
59
Besides Hecataeus, Herodotus Te Histories is also
believed to be one of the previous histories Diodorus used
60
in his work. Some simi-
larities between the two ancient historians writings, such as a detailed but somewhat
garbled king-list, indicate a possible Herodotean infuence on Diodorus, but more
importantly the infuence of the Egyptian priests on both men.
As stated above, Diodorus, like Herodotus before him, wrote several times
that his information came from the Egyptian priests. Diodorus wrote that the
Egyptian priests related to him their creation myths (I.13). Apparently the priests
related both the Heliopolitan and Memphite myths to Diodorus. He wrote:
55 Murray (1970, p. 144). Dillery gives sometime around 300 BC as the date of Hecataeus Aigyp-
tiaka (1988, p. 256n).
56 Te specifc monarch was Ptolemy XI; Oldfather (2004, p. 157n).
57 Burton (1972, p. 1-2). Namely she stated that he drew heavily upon Agatharchides of Cnidos for
geographical descriptions in later books.
58 Ibid., p. xvii. For the most part Diodorus does not cite his specifc sources. For instance in I.15
when he discusses the origins of Tebes he wrote, many writers say that Tebes was not founded by Osiris.
In Book I.21, concerning the burials of Osiris and Isis he wrote, According to some writers, however, the
bodies of these two gods rest, not in Memphis, but on the border between Egypt and Ethiopia, on the island
in the Nile which lies near the city which is called Philae.
59 Ibid.
60 Murray (1970, p. 161).
101
Helius was the frst king of the Egyptians, his name being the same
as that of the heavenly star. Some of the priests, however, say that
Hephaestus was their frst king, since he was the discoverer of fre
and received the rule because of this service to mankind. (I.13. 2-3).
Te Helius is apparently Atum of the Helipolitan or possibly the
Hermopolitan creation myth
61
while Hephaestus is clearly associated
with Ptah of the Memphite creation myth. In terms of historiography,
the identity of the frst creation myth account Diodorus was given by the
priests is of less importance than the reason why the priests emphasized
the Memphite version. Although Diodorus did not state where he was
given this account, it may simply be that he was in Memphis and spent
considerable time in and around the Ptah Temple. He makes numerous
references to Memphis when he relates his king-list: its founding (I.50.2);
the building of the temple complex (I.51.1-2); colossal statues dedicated
by Sesosis (Ramesses II)
62
(I.57.5); Psamtek Is addition of pylons and
statues at the Ptah Temple (I.67.1); and Amasis removal of foreign
mercenaries from the Delta to Memphis (I.67.1). It could also be that
the Ptah priesthood held the most clerical power in Egypt at the time
63

61 Without more information it is difcult to say for sure which creation myth he was given by
the Egyptian priests in the frst example. In the Heliopolitan myth, Atum, the solar and creator god, wills
himself into existence from the primordial mound and then goes on to create the Ennead. Te Hermopolitan
myth is much more amorphous in that there is more than one variation. In one variation the god Amen, who
has solar attributes, is given the role of creator, while in another a lotus opens to reveal the sun god Ra, while
in another variation the lotus releases a scarab beetle, also symbolic of the sun, which then created humanity;
Tobin (2002, p. 246-51).
62 Diodorus account of (Sesosis) in I.53-8, closely matches that of Herodotus account
of Sesostris in II.102-11. Oldfather (2004, p. 185n), like Lloyd (1975-1989, II.1:323), believed that Sesosis/
Sesostris was an amalgam of numerous kings such as Senusret I and III and Ramesses II. Te Ramesside
infuence on this tradition can be seen in I.56-7 of the Library where Diodorus described Sesosis extensive
building activities. Perhaps Tuthmose III can also be seen in this tradition; in I.55 Sesosis frst successfully
campaigned against Nubia before turning his attention to subdue the Levant. Te source material here may
have been the New Kingdom annals from the Karnak Temple in Tebes that chronicled Tutmose IIIs
military campaigns in those areas.
63 Redford believes that the priests of Ptah held immense power in First Millennium BC Egypt,
namely through their control of important religious cults such as the Apis and the transmission of the
Egyptian historical record (1986, p. 297-302). He also states that if any single city can be said to have shaped
the king-list tradition refected by the Turin Canon, it is Memphis. (p. 4). Although Gozzoli agrees with
Redford that Memphis was still an important center in the First Millennium he adds: Te relevance of the
city from a religious and ideological point of view is entirely true, but the history of Dynasties Twenty-one to
102
and therefore consciously imparted their preferred creation account to
Diodorus, thus demonstrating once more an example of the Egyptian
priests infuencing Greek historiography.
Other examples where Diodorus used the Egyptian priests as his source of historical
information include: the origins of Tebes (I.15.1-5), the source of the annual Nile
inundations (I.40.1-4), the origins of Egyptian education (I.43.6), and information
about the Valley of the Kings (I.46.7-8). Perhaps the most important information
Diodorus received from the Egyptian priests at least as far as the current study is
concerned was the abbreviated but garbled king-list he related in I.44-69. Unlike
Herodotus king-list (Hdt. 110-42) which lists 330 kings, Diodorus list contains 475
monarchs.
64
Diodorus was much more specifc than Herodotus about the way that
the Egyptian priests transmitted this historical information:
About all of them the priests had records which were regularly handed
down in their sacred books to each successive priest from early times,
giving the stature of each of the former kings, a description of his
character, and what he had done during his reign. (I.44.4). Diodorus
characterization of the priests historical sources appears to point towards
a combination of annals the description of the kings character and
deeds and known king-lists such as the Turin Canon and possibly as of
yet unknown lists that continued until and possibly through the Ptolemaic
Dynasty.
Like Herodotus Egyptian king-list, Diodorus list can tell the modern scholar much
about how the Egyptian priests viewed their own history and why they transmit-
ted the information they did to the classical historians. Te most villainous king in
Herodotus account was Khufu, but in Diodorus account (I.63.2-9) none of the neg-
ative anecdotes associated with Khufu, referred to as (Chemis), are repeated.
Interestingly, the motif of a bad king which Khufu flled in Herodotus Te Histories
is instead substituted with Menes (Diod. I.45.1-3). Diodorus wrote that Menas
Tirty has a Lower Egyptian bias, more than just centered on Memphis. (2006, p. 197n).
64 Diod. I.44. Diodorus lived over 300 years after Herodotus which would account for some of the
discrepancy of 145 kings. Although Diodorus lists the Persians and Ptolemies as Egyptian kings, he is specifc
that they are not considered with his fnal number of 475. Last of all the Macedonians and their dynasty held
rule for two hundred and seventy-six years. For the rest of the time all the kings of the land were natives, four
hundred and seventy of them being men and fve women.
103
lived an ostentatious lifestyle that later came back to hurt the Egyptian monarchy:
After the gods the frst king of Egypt, according to the priests, was Menas,
who taught the people to worship the gods and ofer sacrifces, and also
to supply themselves with tables and couches and to use costly bedding,
and, in a word, introduced luxury and an extravagant manner of life. For
this reason when, many generations later, Tnephachthus, the father of
Bocchoirs the wise, was king and, while on a campaign in Arabia, ran
short of supplies because the country was desert and rough, we are told
that he was obliged to go without food for one day and then to live on
quite simple fare at the home of some ordinary folk in private station,
and that he, enjoying the experience exceedingly, denounced luxury and
pronounced a curse on the king who had frst taught the people their
extravagant way of living. (I.45.1-2)
Te sole Twenty Fourth Dynasty king, Bocchoris/Bakenrenef, is referred by Di-
odorus as a man who was altogether contemptible in personal appearance but in
sagacity far surpassed all former kings. (I.65.1) Diodorus appears to be following
the same pattern of Herodotus in his king-list version by writing about an example
of a bad king, in this case Menes, and juxtaposing him with examples of good kings
such as Bakenrenef and Shabaqa, who was described thus: in piety and uprightness
far surpassed his predecessors. (I.65.2) Te relevant point here, as was discussed
with respect to Herodotus above, is not why Menes was presented as a bad king
while Bakenrenef and Shabaqa were examples of good kings such arguments will
remain circular until other primary documents are discovered that can illuminate
this further but how the Egyptian priests interjected themselves into Greek histo-
riography and, in doing so, left a hint of Egyptian historiography on this particular
book. As with Herodotus, the important thing to consider with Diodorus histo-
ry is the transmission of Egyptian historiography from the priests to Hecataeus
and later to Diodorus, because it was they who decided which aspects of Egyptian
culture were exalted along with which kings were praised and which ones vilifed.






104
MANE T HO S S OURCES AND ME T HODOL OGY
6 5

Manethos Epitome reads in part like a pharaonic king-list, as the various kings are
listed in chronological order with the length of their reigns although not always
correctly as will be discussed below and neatly divided into dynasties, which is a
notable divergence from traditional king-lists. Te other Egyptian historiographical
infuence in the Epitome appears to be the annals because the events from the
reigns of Menes to Necherophes are derivative from entries similar to those of the
Palermo Annals.
66
Since Manetho was an Egyptian priest and would have been
able to read the king-lists, it is probable that he utilized those lists, such as the Turin
Canon, to compile at least part of his history. Redford notes:
To all intents and purposes the tradition of number and sequence of Middle
Kingdom dynasties refected in Manetho, is present in the same form in TC a mil-
lennium earlier. Te Manethonian divisions of the dynasties of the Old Kingdom
and the First Intermediate Period, however, are not yet part of the tradition in Ra-
messide times, and are therefore a later development.
67
Where Manetho learned the chronologies of the post-Ramesside dynasties are
unknown at this time the information may have come from yet unknown king-
lists or from other sources that will be discussed below.
68
Manethos history though goes beyond a typical king-list in purpose and scope.
As noted above, the purpose of the Egyptian king-list was not to record history
for posterity but to provide a link for the present king to his long-gone illustrious
ancestors whom he ofers in the form of the list in order to legitimize his own rule.
69

Te purpose of the Egyptian king-lists therefore limited their historicity and scope
because certain kings who were viewed as anathema were left out,
70
but this was
65 One of the primary diferences between Manethos history and those of Herodotus and Diodorus
which creates countless problems concerning the validity of his accounts is the fact that no original
manuscript is known to have survived; modern scholars are left with only transmissions of the original
Epitome that were preserved by Jewish and Christian scholars in late antiquity and the Middle Ages. Te
transmissions came from two sources, the frst being excerpts of the original work preserved by the Jewish
historian Josephus; see Waddell (2004, p. xv). Te other is what is referred to as the Epitome, which consisted
of fragments preserved by Christian chronographers such as Africanus and Eusebius; see Waddell (2004, p.
xvi).
66 Gozzoli (2006, p. 208).
67 Redford (1986, p. 13).
68 Helck believed that Manetho had access to multiple lists (1956, p. 15-16).
69 Gozzoli (2006, p. 7).
70 Te late Eighteenth Dynasty Amarna Period kings and the early Eighteenth Dynasty king/
105
not the case with Manethos history. Hatshepsut, referred to as Amensis the sister
of Amenophis, is present in fr. 50, from Josephus, 51, from Teophilus, and 52, from
Syncellus according to Africanus, as are the Amarna kings listed as: Acherres, Ra-
thos, and Chebres.
71
Because of this, it becomes clear that Manetho therefore did
not receive all of his chronological information by solely using any or all of these
Pharaonic lists
72
discussed above, such as the Turin Canon.
Information from priestly libraries was probably another source of Manethos
history. His use of library documents, and the actual annals commissioned by the
kings themselves, would also help to explain the several annalistic type entries. In frs.
34-36 he lists (Sesostris) as having ruled for forty eight years and con-
quering Asia, much like the account of Herodotus and Diodorus discussed above.
Another interesting example includes frs. 64-65 in which it is stated that in the reign
of (Bochoris/Bakenrenef ) a lamb spoke. Te source of these stories may
have been the Temple archives and demonstrates that Manetho, an educated priest
and historian, saw these stories as valid enough to publish. Redford notes:
Trough the library of the temple Manetho was privy to the folklore of
this people and was not averse to using it. Indeed, he treated it much more
seriously than we should ever have imagined a priori, and the argument
that Manetho, being able to read the native scripts would surely not have
used such fanciful legends, is simply and surprisingly not the case.
73
Te reason why Manetho chose to include fanciful stories within his history as fact,
may stem from the reason that he was Egyptian and not Greek. In other words he
was infuenced as much by the Egyptian philosophy of history which, as Redford
notes, allowed for the priests to combine folklore with actual history.
74
Despite the
queen Hatshepsut were routinely omitted from king-lists; see Redford (1986, p. 35).
71 Frs. 50-3 all list these three kings with slightly diferent variations in the Greek spelling, but
interestingly in fr. 51 from Teophillus, Akhenaten/Acencherses is referred to as the daughter of Orus/Amen-
hotep III. Te frs. vary on the number of kings given from the Eighteenth Dynasty. Fr. 50 (from Josephus)
lists thirteen; fr. 51 (from Teophilus) lists sixteen, although the last two are named (Ramesses); fr.
52 (from Syncellus according to Africanus) lists sixteen kings as well with the last two being and
(Amenoptah); and fr. 53 lists fourteen kings.
72 Verbrugghe and Wickersham (2001, p. 104).
73 Redford (1986, p. 229).
74 Lloyd also notes that in pre-literate societies the use of folklore as history via oral sources would
be common and that in literate pharaonic Egypt this process would be unlikely to alter signifcantly
106
infuence of Egyptian historiography, Manethos use of libraries was also indicative
of the infuence of Greek historical methodology:
If Manetho preferred to base himself on something near to hand in the
library, this would be quite in accordance with the dominant methods
of Hellenistic Greek historiography, Manethos new adoptive mtier.
Manethos main source is most likely, therefore, to have been something
both comprehensive, orderly, and portable or on hand.
75
Terefore, Manetho appears to have gathered most of his research from available
annals and king-lists such as the Turin Canon and other material available to him
in the temple libraries. Because of his background, Manetho would have no doubt
been able to read documents in Demotic, Hieratic, Egyptian hieroglyphs, and Greek
as well, which means that he had a better grasp of both the Egyptian and Greek
primary source materials than his predecessor Herodotus or the later Diodorus, but
he meshed together the information in a way that the other two did or could not.
Manetho, having lived in the Hellenistic world, was no doubt infuenced by
prior Greek scholars such as Herodotus. Herodotus is referred to in frs. 34-36, as
discussed above, and fr. 7, where Manetho cites him as a source for the length of
Menes reign. Frs. 14, 15, and 16 also cite Herodotus as a source for Khufus build-
ing of the Great Pyramid, although in the Epitome the second king of the Fourth
Dynasty is named (Suphis). Te Epitome seems to diferentiate between
Suphis and Cheops/Khufu as all three fragments state that Suphis built the Great
Pyramid which Herodotus says was built by Cheops.
76
In fr. 42, Josephus states
that on many points of Egyptian history he convicts Herodotus of having erred
through ignorance, but unfortunately the only surviving fragment sheds more light
on Manethos criticism of Herodotus is fr. 88 which says nothing about the historian
and when information was not available to satisfy the enquires of importunate Greeks, it is by no means
inconceivable that even a priest would simply invent it. (1986, p. 26). Gozzoli has also approached the issue
of Egyptian priests/historians using folklore in the stories of their land (2006, esp. p. 227-81). Of course this
would be an example of Loprienos productive history (2006).
75 Verbrugghe and Wickersham (2001, p. 105).
76 (Frs. 14-16). Fr.14 (from Syncellus according to Africanus) lists two Suphis, with the frst being
attributed as the builder of the Great Pyramid, while Fr. 15, from Syncellus according to Africanus, and fr. 16,
the Armenian version of Eusebius, lists Suphis as the third, but do not mention a second builder of the Great
Pyramid. Verbrugge and Wickersham identify Suphis as Khufu (2001, p. 190).
107
from Halicarnassus.
77
Dillery believes that Manethos work was essentially a mix of
the Egyptian and Greek historical traditions, with the Egyptian contribution being
the king-list style and the narratives coming from a Greek infuence.
78
Gozzoli con-
curs with Dillerys idea that Manetho represented a combination of Egyptian and
Greek historical thought as he was a bridge between two cultures
79
and that he
and Hecataeus of Abdera before him had Herodotus as a model.
80
Not all modern
scholars are in agreement that Manetho was so indebted to Greek historiography.
81

Tat Manetho had access and used the temple literature and monuments, which
includes the annals and king-lists, is not in question, but to claim that he never used
the writings of Herodotus is false when one examines the number of fragments
where he is named. Te amount of infuence that Herodotus had on Manetho is
open for argument, but not the fact that he was familiar with Te Histories and
used it as a source.
CONCLUS I ON
An analysis of the works of the classical historians Herodotus, Diodorus, and
Manetho reveals that they were a product of the converging of Egyptian and Greek
historical traditions. Manetho, the Hellenized Egyptian priest, is probably the most
obvious example of this convergence, but the works of Herodotus and Diodorus
also show an Egyptian historiographical infuence. Te Egyptian infuence on these
historians came from the priests from whom they received much of their source ma-
terial, either directly or indirectly. Te Egyptian priests had much more control over
the Classical accounts of Egyptian history than may be at frst realized; through the
reading of king-lists as well as the explanations of monuments and religious festivals
they were able to disseminate the historical information they believed important to
the historians, which was then recorded in the traditional Greek format of a narra-
77 Te fragment merely talks about the etymology of the word (lion) and states that
Manetho says in his Criticism of Herodotus that the lion never sleeps. It should be pointed out that this is
one of the fragments considered to be pseudo-Manetho.
78 Dillery (1999, p. 3).
79 Gozzoli (2006, p. 224).
80 Ibid.
81 For instance, Redford believes that since Manetho could read Egyptian, he would not have had
to consult earlier Greek histories of Egypt (1986, p. 225). Although this is true, it does rule out that Manetho
would have been infuenced by the general milieu of Greek historiography that he would have experienced
having lived among Greek intellectuals in Hellenistic Egypt.
108
tive. Trough this process the Egyptian priests were also able to insert their opin-
ions about certain kings, thereby elevating some to the exalted status of enlightened
monarchs while demoting others to the level of despotic tyrants.
Trough their control of the Egyptian historical sources, the Egyptian priests
had a tremendous impact on how their cultures history was transmitted to and later
by the Greeks and also how they were able to imbue Greek historiography with a
layer albeit a thin one most of the time of Egyptian historiography. Te historic-
ity of the stories and their relevance to Egyptian history are less important than why
they recorded the stories that they did and ultimately how those stories originated in
the historical memory of the ancient Egyptians. Ultimately, when modern scholars
begin to ask why the classical historians wrote what they did instead of taking the
narratives as facts in themselves, then a better understanding of the relationship
between Egyptian and Greek historiography can develop and from that, perhaps,
also a better chronology can be created of both ancient Egyptian and Greek history.
109
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the Study of the Egyptian Sense of History. Mississauga, Canada: Benben
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Chicago Press, 1953.
Spencer, A. J. Early Dynastic Objects: Catalogue of Egyptian Antiquities in the British
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Stronach, David. Descriptions and Comment. Journal Asiatique 260 (1972): 240-
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___________. Les textes Cuneiformes de la satue de Darius Cahiers de la
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Manetho, Introduced and Translated: Native Traditions in Ancient
Mesopotamia and Egypt. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2001.
Walser, Gerold. Die Vlkerschaften auf den Reliefs von Persepolis: Historiche Studien
ber den sogenannte Tributzug an der Apadanatreppe. Berlin: Akadamie
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Asiatique 260 (1972): 253-266.
113
K A T Z P R I Z E E S S A Y 2 0 1 4
Winner of the 2014
Phyllis B. Katz Prize for Excellence in Undergraduate Research
Apollo and his protgs in the Oreseia
Ian Nurmi
University of Massachusets Boston
e f
It goes without saying that the gods play an important role in every stage of the
Oresteia. We do not, however, see the gods until the fnal play of the trilogy, Te
Eumenides. Or do we? Although we are early on informed that Zeus and Apollo
have taken a direct hand in the afairs of the House of Atreus, Zeus never appears
in person, and Apollo only in the third play of the trilogy. However, at every stage
of events, Apollo can be seen to be present, in cult imagery and, more importantly,
through his devotees. In the characters of the prophetess Kassandra, Pylades and the
trilogys main protagonist, Orestes, the presence of Apollo can be seen long before
he frst sets foot upon the stage.
KAS S ANDRA
When Agamemnon enters with a woman at his side, there is no doubt that the au-
dience would have recognized her to be Kassandra, the Trojan princess and daugh-
ter of Priam. What is in question, however, is whether they would have associated
her with Apollo. Te references to her prophetic skill are few and far between. It
may be referred to in the Kypria, where she is said to have
, before Paris left for Sparta, that is, she spoke about the destined things
114
beforehand.
1
Similarly, Pindar in Pyth. xi 33, refers to her as .
2
Based
on this evidence, it may be that the audience would be aware of Kassandras abilities,
and perhaps associated her mantic abilities with Apollo. Her afair with the god,
however, appears nowhere before Aeschylus, and may have been invented by him,
3

perhaps simply to draw the god more frmly into the events of the play.
Regardless of the audiences preconceived notions of the Trojan princess re-
lationship with Apollo, it would quickly become clear, perhaps upon her entrance.
At lines 1264-65, we get a reference from Kassandra herself, to the details of her
costume. In a ft of fury at the god who has led her to her destruction, Kassandra
asks why she continues to wear the gods emblems. Te items that identify her (or
that she identifes) as a devotee of Apollo here are her scepter and the prophetic
fllets. With her costuming and prior associations with prophesy, it may be that the
audience would recognize in the Trojan woman the presence of the god long before
she uses her frst words to call upon him.
When she fnally breaks her silence, Kassandra reveals Apollo as the one driv-
ing events. ; ;
4
(1087). Apollo has led
her here, to die. Perhaps this is the gods fnal punishment for the crime she claims
she committed against him (1203-12). Or, perhaps, she has a function to perform
here, a fnal task for the god who has gifted and destroyed her.
For over 200 lines, Kassandra remains silent, watching the interaction between
Agamemnon and his wife. In fact, what goes on during her silence is perhaps the
most important scene in the play. While Agamemnon is being led to his death by
Klytaimestra, Kassandra stands of to the side, quietly watching. Given her knowl-
edge of events, one might expect her to intervene and attempt to warn Agamemnon.
However, Kassandra knows that these events have been ordained. In fact, the gods
have already arranged for an avenger of the dead king (1279-85). Rather than inter-
cede, one gets the impression that Kassandras role is to observe events in place of
her patron.
1 Mason (1959, p. 81).
2 Mason (1959, p. 81).
3 Debnar (2010, p. 132).
4 Where have you led me? To what roof ?
115
P Y L ADES
Kassandra is not the only character whose role seems to be to observe the events
of the main protagonists. Pylades too, the companion of Orestes, does little more
than watch and wait. Tis Pylades is unknown in the Homeric account of Orestes
revenge, although he is mentioned in a summary of the Nostoi.
5
Pylades is the son
of Strophius, the man with whom Orestes has spent his exile and the king of Phocis.
Tis places him as a resident of the area around Delphi, the oracular seat of Apollo.
It is then, not surprising when, after 900 lines of silence, he voices his concerns, not
for Orestes, but for Delphi.
When Orestes hesitates in delivering the fnal blow to his mother, he turns for
advice to his companion. Te response he receives has little to do with him.

, ;
6
(900-1)
It does not seem to be Orestes that Pylades is concerned with here, but with the
oracle itself. What will happen to Delphi, he asks, and to its god? Coming from the
district of Delphi and being the son of the king who rules the area, Pylades might
well worry about the oracle and the money it collects for its prophesies. However,
there may be a more direct reason for his concern about Orestes actions.
On a vase by the Copenhagen Painter, the scene of Orestes revenge is present-
ed. Here, while Orestes dispatches Aigisthus, his mother runs up behind him with
her infamous axe, seemingly intent on ending her sons life and with no one to stop
her.
7
However, on another vase, this one by the Aigisthus painter (c. 475 BCE),
Orestes has a deliverer. Here, the scene almost seems to be the same as before, only
a few seconds later. Orestes has turned to see his mother approaching. Her approach
has been checked, however, by an unnamed youth.
8
One would not be faulted for
assuming this to be Pylades, the only accomplice attributed to Orestes.
Tis is not the end of the story that vase-painting has to tell us about Pylades.
On another piece of pottery (undated), Orestes is seen before the seated fgure of
5 Gantz (1993, p. 677).
6 What about the oracles of Apollo declared at Delphi in the future, and the trusted oaths?
7 Gantz (1993, p. 684).
8 Ibid.
116
Apollo. Te scene has been alternatively interpreted as Orestes receiving his com-
mands from Apollo and as Orestes being purifed by the god.
9
What is important
here, however, is the other fgures in attendance. Seated behind Apollo is, predict-
ably, the Pythia. Standing next to her is Pylades. What is interesting here is the fact
that Pylades seems to be associated not with Orestes, but with Apollo. His place-
ment behind the god and next to the Pythia, marks him out as an employee of the
god. Aeschylus never explains Pylades reasons for accompanying Orestes. His con-
cern over Apollos interests may indicate that his presence is at the gods command
with his role, like that of Kassandra before him, to observe and ensure that events
went as the gods required. Tus, he only speaks to put Orestes back on course when
he hesitates and only acts when Orestes life is in danger.
ORES T ES
While these two can clearly be seen as the agents of Apollo, it is in the fgure of Or-
estes that the presence of the god can most be felt. Here, the superfcial similarities
to the god are more pronounced than they are in the protgs of Apollo we have
already seen. Like Apollo (and Pylades) Orestes is an ephebe, a beardless youth in
the prime of his life, on the cusp of transitioning to manhood. As the especial patron
of boys at this stage of life, Apollos interest in Orestes may not be so surprising.
However, even with this connection, Apollo typically takes an interest in those with
more interests in common, especially poets, seers (like Kassandra) and archers. It is
in the last that we fnd Orestes special connection to the god. In earlier accounts of
Orestes revenge, the youth is given a bow by Apollo with which to defend himself
from the Erinyes.
10
Archery is not a skill that one can pick up quickly, so the fact
that Orestes is ofered a bow suggests that it was a skill he already knew well (since
he was expected to hit goddesses).
How does this apply to the Oresteia? In the Choephoroe, there is a common
problem of staging: the appearance on stage of two characters of the same type. In
Greek theater, the masks worn by actors were standardized, with few distinguishing
characteristics outside of a stock set.
11
Tus, the ephebe mask had no beard as, say,
the mask of a mature man would, with dark hair and dark skin, a standard in dis-
9 Goldman (1910, p. 138).
10 Gantz (1993, p. 677).
11 Marshall (1999, p. 191).
117
tinguishing men from women.
12
Te problem with our play is that both Orestes and
Pylades are epheboi. How then would they be distinguishable from one another? In
instances of this sort, the convention was to distinguish them by voice and costume.
13

Tis would be difcult with Orestes and Pylades, since Pylades only speaks three
lines in the entire play. Instead, they must have been distinguished in their costume.
An easy way for this to have been done is for Orestes to have carried his god-given
bow. While the text nowhere mentions this piece of equipment, there is no reason
it should.
14
After all, Kassandra only mentions her costume because she is tearing it
of. Kassandras costume and attributes mark her for who she is, the same may well
have been done with Orestes and his tell-tale bow.
15
A point in favor of this suggestion is the archery imagery which connects
Apollo and Kassandra. When, at the end of the trial before the Areopagus, Apollo
is asked whether he has said all he wishes, he replies:

16
Compare this answer with Kassandras, when she is questioned by the Chorus,
, ;
17
and Orestes, also being questioned by the
Chorus, when he declines to name Apollos threats should he fail:
.
18
Orestes, not a prophet as Apollo and Kassandra, cannot use
his words as arrows in the way that they can. Instead, he must rely on physical ar-
rows.
Tis is not the only way in which Orestes is similar to both his god and to
Kassandra. Like Kassandra, Orestes can see the Erinyes when no one else around
him can (Cho. 1048-62) and like Kassandra, his visions seemingly drive Orestes mad.
Kassandra feels herself driven to Argos by Apollo, an irresistible force leading her
on. Similarly, Orestes reveals that he too feels bound by the command of Apollo
12 Ibid.
13 Marshall (1999, p. 192).
14 A good portion of the opening speech, in which Orestes states his purpose and, most likely, the
oracle, is missing. Tis would be the most likely place for him to have mentioned the bow, if he had it.
15 Orestes would have to have given up the bow by the Eumenides, since Apollo, another ephebe,
carries his bow there. Instead, Orestes carries the sword with which he killed his mother and, perhaps, the
staf of a suppliant.
16 Every arrow has been shot by us.
17 Do I miss the mark, or catch something like an archer?
18 No man may aim at calamities with an arrow.
118
(297-8). So too, we will see, Apollo is under command, not by his own oracles, but
by the will of Zeus.
AP OLL O
Te Pythia tells us at Eum. 19 that Apollo is , the spokesman of
Zeus, and when we frst meet him we begin to see what she meant. He appears,
carrying his golden bow (180-82), and overbearing in his manner. While polite to
Orestes, he behaves in a manner that can be called nothing but rude towards the
Erinyes. He threatens and bullies them out of his temple, as he will later attempt
bullying the jury (619-20). He is scornful of most everyone and assured of his own
victory.
Why is he so assured of his victory? As learned at the end of the Choephoroe,
Apollo himself has prophesied that Orestes will go free from guilt (1030-32). Never,
he tells the jury, has he lied or prophesied anything that Zeus did not order him to
(Eum. 616-18).
19
It has already been decided that Orestes is innocent. Te Erinyes
pursuit, and their case before the Areopagus, are mere formalities. Te end is already
set. Set in fact, by Zeus himself, the god for whom Apollo is . When the
jury is set to vote, Apollo warns them, not to disrespect his oracles and those of Zeus
(Eum. 713-14). Te Choruses of both Agamemnon and Choephoroe had suspected
that it was the hand of Zeus that was guiding events, now at last we have proof.
Troughout the three plays of the Oresteia, it is clear that the gods are manag-
ing events very closely. Apollo, the spokesman of his father, has taken a direct role
and oversees almost every aspect of the afair. He does this by the use of agents of his
own, whose job it is to oversee events, ensuring that all goes according to plan, and
to actively take part when it appears that things may go awry. Tus, the prophetess
Kassandra silently watches as Agamemnon is led to his death, rather than attempt-
ing to intercede on his behalf. Similarly, Pylades watches on as Orestes murders his
own mother, only speaking when it seems that Orestes is faltering. Finally, Orestes
himself is the living embodiment of the gods oracles. Apollos protg, whose job it
is to complete his will, which, as Apollo is revealed to be merely the spokesman for
his father, is none other than the will of Zeus.
19 Tis is similar to the claim made by Kassandra to the Chorus at Ag. ll 1240-41, when she tells
them that, though they do not do so now, one day they will see that she was a true prophet ().
119
Works Cited
Aeschylus. Te Agamemnon of Aeschylus. Raeburn, David and Oliver Tomas, ed.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.
___________. Te Libation Bearers. Smyth, Herbert Weir, ed. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1926.
___________. Te Eumenides. Sommersein, Alan H., ed. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1989.
___________. Te Oresteia. Lloyd-Jones, Hugh, trans. Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1979.
Benner, Allen Rogers. Selections from Homers Iliad. New York: Appleton Century
Crofts, 1931.
Debnar, Paula. Te Sexual Status of Aeschylus Cassandra. in Classical Philology
105.2 (April 2010): 129-145.
Gantz, Timothy. Early Greek Myth. Vol. 2. Baltimore: Te John Hopkins University
Press, 1993.
Goldman, Hetty. Te Oreseia of Aeschylus as Illusrated by Greek Vase-Painting.
in Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 21 (1910): 11-159.
Marshall, C.W. Some Fifth-Century masking Conventions. Greece & Rome 46.2.
(Oc 1999): 188-202.
Mason, P.G. Kassandra. Te Journal of Hellenic Studies. Vol. 79. (1959): 80-93. Web
12/7/13
Roberts, Deborah. Apollo and His Oracle in the Oresteia. Gottingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1984.
___________. Oreses as Fulfllment, Teraskopos, and Teras in the Oreseia. Te
American Journal of Philology 106.3 (Autumn 1985): 283-297.
Taplin, Oliver. Te Stagecraft of Aeschylus. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977.
Whallon, William. Te Herm at Ag. 55-56 Stocks and Stones of the Oreseia.
Hermes 121. Bd. H.4 (1993): 496-499.
120
R A T I O E T R E S
New England Classical Journal 41.2 (2014) 120-127
Knowing the Facs About Teacher Training
Teresa Ramsby
University of Massachusetts Amherst
e f
Becoming a teacher of any subject in the public schools of the twenty-frst centu-
ry is not an easy task.
1
A teacher is expected to have received a BA, possibly an
MA, licensure (and there are various levels of licensure), and to have taken some
courses in education (such as educational psychology and educational law), and to
have fulflled an eight-to-twelve-week practicum (or period of student teaching) as
determined by each states Department of Education. Our Classics undergraduates
cannot all become teachers, admittedly, for the demand for Latin teachers is not
so great as that, and many of our Classics undergraduates do not wish to become
public school teachers; even so, it has been my anecdotal experience that often our
undergraduate students are not prepared or informed enough before graduation to
proceed into a career in teaching if they are interested in doing so. In this article, I
wish to encourage my colleagues in higher education to have a conversation within
their departments, if one is needed, to consider how best to answer the needs of
their Classics undergraduates who are interested in a career in teaching. To that
end, I ofer here a few suggestions that may help a department better counsel their
undergraduates as they prepare for that career.
To be sure, there are jobs for many of our graduates. Te rising emergence and
success of charter schools, magnet schools, public academies, and other innovations
on the platform of the traditional public school throughout the nation have drawn
1 I am grateful for helpful comments and suggestions from the anonymous reviewer of this piece,
and I thank Deborah Davies for her encouragement and for her timely management of the process.
121
renewed attention to Latin as an excellent subject that prepares students for the
challenges of an education in the liberal arts and sciences. As the graduate program
director at UMass Amherst I spend three to four months looking for opportunities
of full-time employment for our graduating MAT students. Tis past academic year
I saw an impressive number of jobs available in New England and New York City
for qualifed teachers in both innovative and traditional public schools. Be assured
that more and more school districts are investigating Latin as a means to prepare
young minds for writing, reading analysis, and knowledge of the history of western
and ancient cultures.
Te continuing support and funding of Classics departments in colleges and
universities is dependent on the understanding among the wider populace that our
discipline has merit intrinsic to the literary and cultural history of our modern,
democratic society. Tat understanding is of course fostered by instruction in Latin
and Classical Humanities among students at the middle and high school level, and
the better the instruction, the more likely the subject will remain popular and wide-
spread among school districts. Perhaps more than in the recent past, therefore, it is
imperative that institutions of higher education prepare their talented students to
take positions at these schools where Latin has made a comeback.
In general, Classics departments already inform their students of the teaching
opportunities that await them after graduation, and many Classics departments have
recently established highly successful post-baccalaureate programs to allow students
to receive more extensive language preparation, and thereby enter the training pro-
grams that lead to careers in teaching. Tis is an exciting new trend. Furthermore,
Classics faculty could also develop a greater understanding of the specifc pathways
to teaching to ease the transition from college experiences to a career in the public
schools. It is therefore important to understand the process of certifcation in any
particular state. What follows is a review of some of the information about teaching
pathways that I have gleaned from the APA Report on Certifcation that is available
online.
2
In most states, a BA either in Classics or Latin (typically with some courses in
Education or in conjunction with an approved educator preparation program with-
in the university) or in Education with at least 24 credits of Latin courses, AND a
2 Te document Report on State Certifcation Requirements in Latin, generated by the APA in
2011, and located on the APA website, is an excellent starting point to gather some of the basic information
about certifcation in the 50 states:
apaclassics.org/images/uploads/documents/education/APA_Latin_Certifcation.pdf.
122
passing grade on a state produced test (called PRAXIS in many states, for example;
in Massachusetts it is called the MTEL) is required to receive provisionary or pre-
liminary or standard certifcation and begin teaching in a public school. Te infor-
mation about these tests is found on the Department of Education websites for each
state.
3
It is important to note, however, that the level of licensure that the passed
test generates typically lasts only 3 to 5 years, and in most states a teacher must work
toward a higher level of certifcation if they intend to remain employed. Advanced
certifcation often called Level Two or Initial certifcation is achieved through
various pathways, depending on the state.
4
Tose pathways toward advanced licen-
sure tend to take these forms: a) the work of the teacher in the classroom in some
cases fve years or more of classroom teaching can count toward advancement, and
the acquisition of professional development points can be enough in some states
to earn permanent employment; b) additional course-work or supplementary pro-
grams provided by the state, or some mixture of these activities can garner advanced
certifcation in some states; c) an advanced degree (typically an MA) is required for
advancement in some states in some felds; and/or d) teacher-training programs,
or as Departments of Education like to call these programs Educator Preparation
Programs (EPP), appear on many state lists of preferred pathways to licensure.
Some states, including Massachusetts, require both an MA and the completion of
an EPP to achieve the highest levels of certifcation, making the MAT program a
wise choice for anyone interested in condensing that process.
5
3 Usually a simple web search will lead a person to the site for a states licensure testing service.
Tis site provides links to the licensure information page of all 50 states:
http://education.uky.edu/AcadServ/content/50-states-certifcation-requirements.
4 Two states, Texas and Wyoming, do not ofer advanced certifcation, but only renewal of certi-
fcation, and renewal there depends on the accumulation of hours in the classroom (teaching experience) or
professional development hours. At least two states (Georgia and Hawaii) allow the pursuit and completion
of a PhD to achieve advanced levels of certifcation, but it is important to point out that the vast majority of
states do not grant advanced certifcation to someone with a PhD without further training in education. In
fact many PhDs fnd it difcult to achieve a public school position because their education level demands pay
higher than most districts are willing to pay for a starting teacher a true Catch-22 situation.
5 It is important too to distinguish that there are many programs that ofer an MAT, but if one
looks at the course requirements, one should look to see whether the majority of the courses are overseen by
the School of Education or by the Classics Department. It is preferable that students spend the majority of
their time and studies learning specifcally about Latin pedagogy and language within a Classics department.
It may be difcult for some Classics programs to engage in that level of pedagogical training, but there are
many young Classics scholars who are interested in this line of research, and would be useful additions to
a department if their pedagogical research and applications are given equal credit to their more traditional
accomplishments in research.
123
Clearly the regulations for certifcation difer widely from state to state, and so it is
surely in the interest of Classics departments to investigate what the requirements
for certifcation are within their state and in any surrounding states so that they
can accurately promote the idea of middle and secondary school teaching as an
option to their language majors. Preparing our students for the many hoops to jump
through when dealing with a state-run bureaucracy is an important part of career
advising. Anyone who has taken a look at a website created by a states Department
of Education will know that they are confusing and difcult to navigate. We do
our students a great service if we can simplify for them the process of investigating
licensure options.
Lets talk money, too. Teaching middle and secondary public school is one of
the few remaining professional careers that typically provide a middle-class sal-
ary and a pension in retirement. Despite the fact that many states have recently
re-structured their pension systems (and this goes for red and blue states alike), the
pension for a teacher with 30 or more years in the classroom is still one of the best
in the occupational feld at 60-80% of top average earnings for life after retirement.
Tese factors, as well as the more noble motivations of educating the young, per-
petuating the Classics, and immersing young people in the rigors and rewards of
ancient languages and cultures, should make the teaching profession a viable option
for our talented Classics students. Tis is particularly true in the current economy in
which only 53% of college graduates exit their education with a job relevant to their
degrees or that pays a wage that can support a middle-class lifestyle.
6
Knowing the
pathways to a teaching career is surely the frst step toward helping our students.
Students who realize in their senior year that they dont have enough training in an
ancient language to get into an Educator Preparation Program, an MA or PhD pro-
gram, or even to pass a state-ofered, subject-area test for preliminary certifcation
sufer great disappointment.
At the very least, then, Classics departments at public or private colleges and
universities within states that require an Educator Preparation Program for advanced
certifcation should inform their students early of the need to pursue an EPP during
or after the BA. In New England, there are numerous licensure programs in Latin,
6 See for example the following two articles: 53% of Recent College Grads Are Jobless or Under-
employedHow? by Jordan Weissmann, Te Atlantic (April 2012): http://www.theatlantic.com/business/
archive/2012/04/53-of-recent-college-grads-are-jobless-or-underemployed-how/256237/; and Millions of
Graduates Hold Jobs Tat Dont Require a College Degree, Report Says, by Allie Bidwell, Te Chronicle of
Higher Education ( January 2013): http://chronicle.com/article/Millions-of-Graduates-Hold/136879/. Both
accessed July 23, 2013.
124
and in the note below I have compiled a list of websites from the various state agen-
cies.
7
Classics departments could also consider developing a licensure program
of their own in Latin and Classical Humanities. An MAT is extremely useful, for
then the student enters her career with an MA plus licensure, and thus at a higher
pay-scale, but even a program that ofers a BA plus licensure would directly beneft
the graduate. Since an EPP typically requires a practicum (8-12 weeks of student
teaching), as well as numerous education courses and a pre-practicum consisting of
lengthy observations at a number of area schools, it is most benefcial if students can
complete advanced certifcation before launching their careers. Ten they are free
to focus on their teaching and getting on with their lives. Students who begin their
careers with advanced certifcation have a signifcant advantage over teachers who
must take night-courses or meet other obligations to move beyond preliminary or
provisional certifcation.
Of course setting up an MAT program is more complicated than setting up
an MA program. Te MAT is ofered in concert with a School of Education, which
must oversee the granting of licensure, and therefore the program will have to meet
any requirements of the state Department of Education, and will operate initially
under probationary supervision of the states Department of Education. To manage
the complexities of establishing such a program, approach the Educational Licen-
sure Ofce at your universitys School of Education and discuss with them how to
set up an MAT program. Find out what is required by the state, what is required
by the Licensure Ofce, and how many credits are required for an MAT by oth-
er departments at your institution (if they exist). It is also helpful to examine the
handbooks of MAT programs that are available online.
8
When planning the pro-
gram, it is also important for a department to consider exerting some control over
the teaching of pedagogical practices (as well as language instruction). Schools of
Education do ofer many courses in pedagogy, but we all know that teaching Latin
and Ancient Greek has many aspects that are sui generis. It would be good for any
7 Some of these websites make it more clear than others where the programs ofering licensure in
Latin and Classical Humanities are located; MA: https://gateway.edu.state.ma.us/elar/licensurehelp/Pro-
gramSearchPostControl.ser; CT: http://www.sde.ct.gov/sde/lib/sde/PDF/Cert/guides/ap_ed_prep_prgms.
pdf; ME (the state website does not identify programs by discipline, but I was able to fnd one relevant EPP:
http://www.usm.maine.edu/mcll/ba-classics-latin-teacher-education-k-12-certifcation-track; NH: http://
www.education.nh.gov/certifcation/documents/programapprovalbook.pdf; VT: http://education.vermont.
gov/documents/EDU-Licensing_Programs_Approved_for_Preparation_of_Educators.pdf.
8 Te UMass MAT handbook, for example, is available on the department website: http://www.
umass.edu/classics/Handbook_MAT_2014.pdf.
125
Classics department to ofer at least one course on teaching the language and the
literature, and a course on teaching the culture as well.
Admittedly, the process of setting up such a program is time-consuming, but it
is rewarding. MAT students are dedicated not just to translating and analyzing Lat-
in literature, but to fostering in others an appreciation for it. Teir enthusiasm for
teaching is infectious, and their discoveries will inspire even the Classics professor
long in the traces. I have learned through the ingenuity of my own students how ex-
tensive is the palette at my disposal for creating my personal art of teaching. In ad-
dition, the community of teachers that a training program creates lasts well beyond
the graduation date. Alumni reunions can be fruitful gatherings where practicing
teachers will return annually to attend workshops and lectures, and to inspire current
students. In addition, MAT students can be encouraged to contribute their growing
expertise to practicing teachers by delivering papers or workshops at regional con-
ferences like MaFLA and CANE in New England, as well as ACL and CAMWS,
thereby expanding the dialogue of a graduate program into the community at large.
It may also be advisable for Classics departments to ofer a Latin pedagogy
course at the undergraduate level, even as a 1-credit course. It would surely be help-
ful for young Latin scholars to see the diferent approaches to reading, translating,
and teaching the Latin language. Te variety of language textbooks, author-specifc
textbooks, and other materials that are available to teachers today has multiplied sig-
nifcantly in the recent decade. It would beneft our undergraduates who are consid-
ering a career in teaching to take a course that would introduce them to schools of
thought about teaching Latin, to techniques and technologies that implement those
ideas, and to the materials themselves. Rare is the Latin or Greek professor that uses
a Smart Board in a college classroom, but such technology is becoming more and
more common in high schools across the country. If we could only introduce our
students to that technology before they enter the classroom as a recent graduate, we
would give them a signifcant advantage.
9

Another important aspect of such a pedagogical course for undergraduates is
that it would allow these interested young people the space to discuss teaching in
a way that directly applies to their area of interest. Education majors talk about
teaching all the time in their courses, but rarely in the education courses that our
9 Tere are many types of SmartBoard type software available online with which students in such
a course could experiment on their own computers (e.g. Gynzy at gynzy.com). Tere are also many youtube
demonstrations of how to use Smartboards that students could observe. My point here is that a college
professor need not become a SmartBoard expert, but can simply point students to its various demonstrations.
126
undergraduates may be required to take for licensure is any emphasis placed on their
specifc subject-area. In the UMass MAT program, we ofer three pedagogy courses
where the students are granted the opportunity to discuss with each other their
ideas about teaching, to relate their experiences in teaching, and to put into practice
diferent models of teaching. In the course evaluation comments I often see students
remark positively on the value of these aspects especially the opportunity to model
teaching before their peers. Te instructor of an undergraduate pedagogy course
could add an assignment whereby each student takes responsibility for presenting
at least one unit or lesson-plan to his or her peers. Tis way, the abstract becomes
reality as the students attempt to confgure their teaching style and approach.
10
Although the typical undergraduate might have limited experience actually
teaching in a classroom, it is fair to say that all undergraduates have ideas about
what teaching strategies were successful in their education. In turn, the approaches
they have seen in high school classrooms and in college seminars and lectures would
no doubt be open to scrutiny by students in such a course. I point out that none
among the collegiate teaching profession should be threatened by the possibility
that favored techniques of teaching ancient languages may come under some critical
investigation. We should view such discussion as an opportunity to learn for our-
selves how the presentation of material responds to the learning styles and expecta-
tions of the young. Most of our traditional methods hold up to examination under
the light of recent pedagogical trends and ideas, but why shouldnt we challenge
ourselves to try new methods? In my own experience, I have been drawn frequently
into discussions surrounding the value of speaking Latin in the classroom. I have
seen for myself the success that some students have achieved using Latin as a spo-
ken language, though it is an approach that not everyone will agree to use. Tere are
multiple methods that successfully teach the Latin language, and exploration of the
spectrum of those methods is a worthy goal.
I am optimistic that the demand for Latin teachers will remain strong in com-
ing years; let us make sure that the demand is met through our diligence to the
profession and to students interested in a career in teaching. We can do this by
making sure we understand the pathways to certifcation and advise our undergrad-
uates about these pathways and the programs that ofer entry into the profession.
10 In spring of 2014, I will be ofering Latin Pedagogy for Undergraduates for the frst time to
UMass Amherst undergraduate students. It is a 1-credit course that meets one hour per week, and its goal,
as stated above, will be to introduce these talented language students to the pedagogical methods and trends
that are currently practiced.
127
We should also provide our students the needed fora in which they can learn about
teaching and put methods into practice. If indeed we are facing a resurgence of
Latin in the various types of public schools, it must be our students who will capa-
bly produce youngsters trained in the Classical languages and cultures; from such a
harvest, we, and our entire society, will reap many benefts.
128
B O O K R E V I E W S
Dexter Hoyos,
A Roman Army Reader: Twenty-One Selections from Lit-
erary, Epigraphic and Other Documents.
Mundelein, Illinois: Bolchazy-Carducci Publications, Inc. 2013.
Pp. xlviii + 214. Paper
(ISBN 978-0-86516-715-5) $19.00.
Te military historian John Keegan, writing in his 1976 work, he Face of Battle,
lamented that Julius Caesar depicted his soldiers mostly as automatons, and Kee-
gan went on to note the monumental, marmoreal, almost monolithic uniformity
of character which classical writers conventionally ascribe to the Legions (p. 69).
Modern readers accustomed to the narratives of Robert Graves or James Jones or
Tim OBrien might especially wonder about the personal experiences of the indi-
vidual legionnaire, who was both glorifed and taken for granted by his commanders
and historians.
Te relatively recent addition of Caesar to the Advanced Placement curriculum
in American schools focuses renewed interest on the Roman Army without inform-
ing students much about its human experience. True, in de bello gallico 5.44 there is
the episode in which rival centurions, Pulfo and Varenus, each intent to prove only
his own superiority, contend in battle against the Nervii and end up saving each oth-
ers lives in full view of their admiring comrades. It is a splendid little drama, tersely
and vividly narrated, and a welcome change from the relentless emphasis its author
places on ipse, but all we learn about these resolute warriors is that they caught the
attention of a commander who valued virtus above all else. We know nothing of the
things they carried in their minds and hearts.
Dexter Hoyos, a professor of Classics and ancient History at the University of
Sydney, who has published inter considerable alia on Hannibal and other Barcas,
has assembled eight restored Latin inscriptions, twelve excepts from literary sources,
and a handwritten personal letter from the Vindolanda trove to illustrate aspects
of Roman military machinery from the Middle Republic to the principate of Mar-
cus Aurelius. While the extant evidence ofers limited direct information about the
individual experiences of the masses who served in the Army over many centuries,
129
Hoyos selections, carefully examined, give some insight into the lives and minds of
even gregarii nostri.
After a 32-page general introduction come fve sections: Meet the Men,
which is mostly epigraphic evidence of centurions and ofcers; Peacetime Life and
Work; Heres the Drill; Te Praetorians in Politics, which comprise excerpts
from Suetonius and Tacitus describing, respectively, the bloody and bizarre transi-
tion from Gaius to Claudius and the demise of Galba; and War and Battle. Each
Latin passage is supported by unusually full and helpful notes. Hoyos has extensive
experience in the technique of translation from Latin, so he knows enough to ofer
frequent, useful caveats, e.g., the phrase ius gladi is grammatically free-foating (p.
59), erupturamanother fexible use of the future pple.; it cannot be translated
literally (the grammar-book about to... should always be avoided) (p. 87), and, as
cannot be stressed too often to any student: res never means thing but takes its
meaning from the context, (p. 92). In an appendix, the original text of each inscrip-
tion is provided with clear explanations of the technical notation. Te vocabulary in
back of the book is apropos and appears complete. In addition, a web address, www.
bolchazy.com/RomanArmyReader.aspx, is provided, and by clicking on Student
Resources at that site a reader can observe supplemental color illustrations.
Beyond the accustomed testimony of Tacitus, Livy, Caesar, and Vegetius about
res militaria, Hoyos resourcefully includes epigraphical evidence as well as excerpts
from Cicero and Juvenal, both of whom give a nuanced or cynical reading of Army
realities. While proconsul in Cilicia, Cicero was nominally in charge of actions
against the fractious locals although he left actual supervision in the feld to compe-
tent subordinates. Encamped at one point near Issus, a site closely associated with
Alexander, Cicero, writing to Atticus, wryly describes the renowned Macedonian
as imperator haud paulo melior quam aut tu aut ego. Te great orator may have been a
vain man, but he was no miles gloriosus.
Te excerpt from Juvenal is from the truncated 16th Satire and describes the
risks a civilian would take in bringing suit against a soldier who has beaten him. Te
case will be heard not in a civil court but in camp before a serving centurion with a
jury of the accuseds comrades, who will take vengeance on the unfortunate accuser
in the unlikely event of a fnding in his favor. Juvenal knows that its Us within these
ramparts against Tem beyond, a psychology familiar to this reviewer, a former U.S.
Marine of the late 1950s; within the Corps the entire civilian world was referred to
as Te Outside.
It would have been interesting if Hoyos had also included the fnal section of
Satire 16, in which Juvenal notes with irritation that a soldier, unlike a civilian, can
130
make his own will despite having a living father. Tis unusual, longstanding exemp-
tion from the authority of a paterfamilias illustrates the degree to which a Roman
soldiers fundamental allegiance was to the legionary standards and not family. It
may also say something about the hazards of a profession in which a son could rea-
sonably be expected to die before his father.
Around 100 a.d., in a provincial world far from the clanging nastiness of the
triplex acies, Claudia Severa, the wife of a Roman ofcer stationed in Britain, sent a
charming birthday-party invitation to another ofcers wife. Now recorded as Vin-
dolanda Tablet 291, this is the oldest piece of Latin writing in a female hand and
gives a sense of social interaction among the Roman expats charged with maintain-
ing the limites far from the City.
Tree of the selections in this imaginative-assembled reader are from Tacitus.
Perhaps the most useful of these for assessing the psychology of Roman soldiers,
and a valuable corrective to the almost toy action-fgure portrayals in Caesar, is
found in Hoyos Passage #10, which deals with the mutiny in Pannonia upon Au-
gustus death in 14 a.d. Embittered by longstanding grievances and skillfully incited
by a former theatrical claque-leader, the legionnaires turned against their ofcers but
relented largely because of a lunar eclipse, which they interpreted as divine anger at
their disobedience. Tat thousands of soldiers would, fortuitously for the Emperor
and his lieutenants, be infuenced by blind superstition seemed apparently unre-
markable and is a reminder of the dissimilarity between ancient and modern senses
of the rational. We can no more disregard superstition as a trivial part of the ancient
psychology than ignore the especial infuence of astrology on the Romans.
Between two convenient covers and at a very reasonable price, Professor Hoyos
has skillfully provided a wide range of material for students and their teachers at
several levels to consider the many aspects and important infuences of the Roman
Army. I highly recommend it.
NECJ 41.2 (2014) Peter Amram
Milton, Massachusetts
131
Julie Langford,
Maternal Megalomania: Julia Domna and the
Imperial Politics of Motherhood.
Baltimore, Maryland: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2013.
Pp. xi + 203. Cloth
(ISBN 978-1-4214-0847-7) $55.00.
Julie Langford tackles an interesting and evolving topic in the study of imperi-
al women. Scholars have historically regarded Julia Domna as the most powerful
Roman empress and Langford sets out to address this assumption. Te topic stems
from the authors experience at the 2002 American Numismatic Societys Summer
Seminar where, while browsing through trays of coins, she found an aureus of Sep-
timius Severus with a reverse of Julia Domna fanked by her sons, Caracalla and
Geta. Julia Domna in her frontal gaze, as Langford writes, caught her looking (p.
ix). Tis anecdote serves as a compelling introduction to a largely convincing book.
Langford states that she uses the lens of historians, numismatics, and inscrip-
tions to glean not the historicity of Julia Domna but what the evidence tells us about
her male relatives, turning to the original purpose of imperial female imagery (p. 3).
She efectively lays out the history of scholarship and her framework, and establish-
es a realistic goal for her book. Te nuanced defnition of power versus visibility is
a particularly interesting premise that Langford proposes within the introduction.
She defnes power as a consistent agenda that would include personal control over
the use of Julia Domnas image and title (p. 5). Indeed, Langford goes on to establish
that the men of the imperial court cast the empress in the role of traditional matron
rather than advertise her extraordinary background. As a metaphor for the Roman
Empire, Herodian and Cassius Dio establish Julia Domna as the foil to a male
counterpart, be it Septimius Severus, Caracalla, or Plautianus. She can be both the
Roman virtue of pietas and the masculine version of her efeminate son. To discuss
how those in power manipulated her image, Langford divides the book into three
chapters that each address one sphere of infuence in the Roman world: the military,
the Roman populace, and the Roman Senate. Each population required a difer-
ent tactical approach to convey the most efective message to entrench the Severan
dynastyeven when that dynastic message might be suppressed. In creating her
chapters, Langford uses clever titles, often modern slang (e.g., Not your Momma),
132
to introduce each subsection and transition, and these amusing word plays ofer
lighthearted moments throughout the narrative.
Te frst chapter looks at the title of mater castrorum, something traditionally
associated with the rise of power for Julia Domna. Langford immediately dashes the
notion of power associated with this title with some quick calculations. Te title is
used in only six percent of all inscriptions that mention Julia Domna; furthermore,
only seven times does Julia Domna appear in an inscription with that title without
her male relatives, and six of those postdate the death of her husband (p. 23). It is this
type of simple, straightforward presentation of evidence that helps make Langfords
conclusions that much more convincing. In this same vein, Langford also postulates
that Julia Domnas title of mater castrorum, the second most frequently used title
after Augusta, was used largely in the civilian dominated areas of the empire, i.e.,
not within a military context (p. 37). One possible explanation from Langford is that
Julia Domna, after the siege at Hatra in 198 CE, was considered a threat and was
resented for her infuence. It is only after her sons quarrel over the empire that her
title becomes important to the stability of the Roman Empire.
In chapter two, Langford explores the role of Julia Domna and Severan imag-
ery in the city of Rome where the populace concerned themselves with peace and
prosperity rather than strength of military. Septimius Severus uses Julia Domna to
bind himself to the Antonines in order to establish the legitimacy of his dynasty,
and he emphasizes her role as mother extensively, which places Julia Domna in a
far less powerful role than scholars have traditionally defned. Here Langford veers
away from Julia Domna in her quest to establish Septimius Severus role in the city,
but the history she discusses establishes the need that Septimius Severus had for
Julia Domna as traditional Roman matrona in the city of Rome. Langford does a
good job of establishing Julia Domna as maternal, but she detracts from this with
her discussion of the ivory doll from the tomb of Cossinia, a Vestal Virgin. Langford
too easily equates the doll, adorned with gold jewelry, with Julia Domna herself. Te
features of the doll do indeed refect the hairstyle and facial characteristics of the
empress, but it is too much of a stretch to use her as visual evidence for a non-ma-
ternal Julia Domna in the city. Rather, the doll refects contemporary feminine com-
portment and should not be construed as representative of imperial values.
Langford uses the third chapter to discuss the role of Julia Domnas imagery
in propaganda for the Roman Senate. Despite the heavy-handed nature of Severan
propaganda, the Senates response is decidedly mute when compared to their em-
brace of the Antonines. Tis iciness continues until the tension between Caracalla
and Geta escalates to such a degree that the Senate needs to employ Julia Domnas
133
stability to project the health of the empire with her titles of mater senatus and mater
patriae. Langford points out that these titles were decidedly mortal in their scope
and reminded the people and the empress of her role in maintaining the peace and
harmony of the imperial houseand the Roman empire (p. 87).
Langfords book is well researched, with a valuable comprehensive bibliogra-
phy, and well written; in just 123 pages, Langford adds a new dimension to the
proliferation of texts about Romes frst third-century empress. She skillfully weaves
the evidence to tell a convincing tale of a woman used to cement power and create
a dynasty in imperial Rome without wielding true infuence or control. Te images
used within the book could have had more impact if they had been woven through-
out the text rather than clumped into one section toward the end of chapter three.
Tis small detail does not detract from the efect of the book, which leaves scholars
of late imperial women with a new way to interpret one of the most visible empress-
es of Rome.
NECJ 41.2 (2014) Ryan Ricciardi
Brunswick, Maine
134
Susan P. Mattern,
Te Prince of Medicine: Galen in the Roman Empire.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013.
Pp. xxii + 334. Cloth
(ISBN 978-0-19-976767-0) $29.95.
In the past decade, there has been no shortage of scholarly interest in the intellectual
achievements of the physician and polymath Galen. Tose interested in learning
about Galens approach and contributions to areas as diverse as anatomy, physiol-
ogy, pharmacology, therapeutics, psychology, epistemology, and language may turn
to several recent studies and new critical editions of Galens texts (recent critical
editions include Galen [trans. I. Johnston and G. H. R. Horsley], On the Meth-
od of Healing, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 2011; Galen [trans. P. N. Singer], Select-
ed Works, Oxford, 1997; and Galen [trans. V. Nutton], On Prognosis, Berlin, 2013;
among the essay collections and monographs that treat the works of Galen are R. J.
Hankinson, ed., Cambridge Companion to Galen, Cambridge, 2008; C. Gill, T. Whit-
marsh, and J. Wilkins, eds., Galen and the World of Knowledge, Cambridge, 2009; and
V. Nutton, Ancient Medicine, New York and London, 2004). Tis recent uptick in
publications makes the new biography by Susan Mattern, whose main emphasis
is not on Galens ideas, but on his life (p. 4), timely and welcome, particularly as
it aims to attract a non-specialist readership. As a historian of the Roman Empire
with special interest in medicine, Mattern is well suited to the task. Her previous
monograph (Galen and the Rhetoric of Healing, Baltimore, Maryland, 2008) focused
on Galens case-history narratives as evidence for the relationship between physician
and patient. In he Prince of Medicine, she situates Galen in his broader intellectual
and social milieu, tracing the education and career of a physician who was remark-
able not only as a prolifc author and observant practitioner, but also as a supremely
confdent performer and harsh critic of his rivals.
Chapters 1 and 2, in keeping with the aim of elucidating Galens life, outline
his early education at Pergamum under the guidance of his father Nicon, and then
his move to Alexandria, the central site of medical education in the Roman Empire.
Mattern treads carefully on the evidence for Galens family life and upbringing,
which is not abundant. As she notes, for example, little can be concluded about the
personality of Galens mother from his single remark that she was of irritable dispo-
135
sition and often shouted at her servants.
A more complete picture can be created from the evidence for Galens ex-
perience practicing medicine and coming into contact with clients and patrons,
frst at Pergamum and eventually at Rome. In Chapter 3, Mattern concentrates on
Galens formative career experience as head physician to the gladiatorial school at
Pergamum. Chapter 4 follows Galen to Rome, a city roughly ten times the size of
Pergamum, when he was thirty-two years old, in 162 CE. Te description of Rome
in this chapter adds valuable detail to the picture by emphasizing the insalubrious
conditions that defned life in a pre-modern city, and the challenge faced by healers
who attempted to treat ailments ranging from tapeworms and tuberculosis to lead
poisoning and nutritional defciencies.
Tese built-in obstacles to success go some way toward explaining why Galen
was notoriously combative with his rivals. In his writings, Galen constantly asserts
his own views against those of other physicians (rather than taking a more cooper-
ative approach and joining forces with these same physicians). Professional rivalry, a
hallmark of Roman imperial medical practice, is brought out in Chapter 5, in which
Mattern explores the signifcance of the relationship between Galen and his patron,
the senator Boethus, who introduced him to the emperor Marcus Aurelius. Galen
captured the interest of Boethus when he successfully sliced open the vocal cords of
a pig in a dramatic display of competence designed to elicit audience approval. Te
show was not complete for Galen, however, unless it also exposed one of his chief
rivals, Alexander, as a fool. Tis chapter conveys how much Galen and other physi-
cians, in the absence of a medical licensing or professional organization, depended
on patronage to legitimize their positions.
Chapter 6 covers the years 166-176, years that involved Galen in travel around
the Empire after he attracted the attention of Marcus Aurelius. Tis chapter is valu-
able in locating Galen in the emperors inner circle and efectively brings out his
experience treating patients of the Antonine plague. Te pandemic, which has been
identifed as smallpox, may have killed nearly a quarter of the population of the Ro-
man Empire. Galen attended to hundreds of plague patients himself and recorded
their symptoms and treatments.
Chapter 7 returns to Galens experience treating patients, focusing on the ev-
idence from the case histories such as those found On the Method of Healing, a
text which reveals Galens attentiveness to detail in his observations of patients and
his interest in recording patients clinical histories. Tese span a wide chronologi-
cal range, but as Mattern notes, between 176 and 192 the events of Galens life are
not well attested in his writings. In 192 Rome was overwhelmed by a massive fre,
136
the subject of Chapter 8. Te fre destroyed many of Galens books, although his
longstanding habit of having his works copied and distributed to friends helped to
mitigate the loss. He kept writing, too. On the Method of Healing, a major work,
appears dateable to sometime after 192, in the fnal decades of his life. An epilogue
traces the infuence of Galen from his death to the Renaissance.
Although Mattern rightly calls attention in her study to Galens arrogance and
boastfulness, what stands out to the reader by the end of her accountand this is
largely thanks to her discussion of so many of his treatisesis his level of productiv-
ity, which appears to have approached workaholism. Although he mentions owning
property in Rome, Campania, and Pergamum, he makes few references to his private
life in his surviving texts and it appears he did not marry or have children.
What does Matterns biography ofer that other scholarship on Galen does
not? In a word, accessibility: her narrative of Galens life draws frequently on On
Prognosis and On Anatomical Procedures, two rich and fascinating treatises, while
framing them in a way that gives the non-specialist reader insight into the wider
social world of the Roman elite. Galens claim in On Prognosis that enemies were
trying to poison him was not necessarily over the top, for example, considering the
evidence for professional poisoners in imperial Rome. She also notes that Galens
dramatic and even violent experiments on animals, while distasteful to modern sen-
sibilities, were viewed with less alarm by Roman audiences, who were accustomed
to violent public spectacles such as gladiatorial combat and the torture of criminals.
Galens ideas and theories remained authoritative in medicine for 1500 years
after his death; his life experience, as Mattern asserts in her introduction, ofers an
important perspective on his writings. As she notes, in one particular genre, the case
history, Galen was able to create a complex and subtly sympathetic portrait (p. 229)
of his patients. In this biography, Mattern has done the same for Galen.
NECJ 41.2 (2014) Lauren Caldwell
Wesleyan University
137
Noelle K. Zeiner-Carmichael,
Latin Letters: An Anthology.
Oxford: Wiley Blackwell, 2014. Pp. xx + 199. Paper
(ISBN 978-1-4443-3951-2) $29.95.
Noelle Zeiner-Carmichaels volume is a welcome addition to the scant number of
available anthologies of epistolary material from antiquity geared toward the teach-
ing of ancient epistolography at the undergraduate level. Te book steers a middle
course between the two principal alternatives on the market today: Michael Trapps
Greek and Latin Letters: An Anthology with Translation (Cambridge, 2004), with
facing page service translation and a rich, engaging commentary, fully in the Yellow
and Green style; and the more scholarly collection by Cecelia A.E. Luschnig, Latin
Letters: Reading Roman Correspondence (Newburyport, MA 2005), of smaller size
and composed with a more limited set of ambitions. Zeiner-Carmichaels anthology
collects more than 200 letters dealing with Roman matters dating from the early
Republic to the third Century CE, originally written either in Latin or in Greek.
Te editor has selected the corpus according to the widest possible standards, in-
cluding samples of Gebrauchsbriefe (real letters in their original, unedited form) and
literary epistles (more rhetorically elaborated texts, surviving either in individual
or collected form). Te canon is made so inclusive as to contain cases of epistolary
exchanges and letters embedded in other documents, along with epistles drafted in
poetry, and metaliterary self-referential letters on the genre of epistolography.
After a substantial introduction entitled Letters and Letter Writing in An-
cient Rome, which provides a clear and focused presentation of the many aspects of
epistolography as a praxis in the Roman world, the reader is immediately presented
with the body of the anthology. Cicero predictably receives about 40 pages, followed
by Pliny the Younger with 32, and Seneca and Fronto/Marcus Aurelius with about a
dozen each. Remarkably, there are 11 pages of Horace and 12 of Ovid, making good
on the promise of anthologizing epistolography across the prose/poetry divide. All
texts have been translated in a lively prose and prefaced with short introductory
sections, containing basic facts about the letters authors and circumstances of com-
position. No commentary is added, since the author maintains that such knowl-
edge-driven interruptions detract from the readers personal engagement with the
138
text as a phenomenological experience (p. xi). Te material is organized in three
large chronological segments: Te Republic, Te Augustan Age, Te Empire,
followed by a self-standing, concluding section of Epistolary Teorists. Each sec-
tion is accompanied by a useful bibliography of recent scholarly works on epistolog-
raphy, suggested as further readings.
Te volume thus appears to combine successfully a generous sampling of pri-
mary literature, made easily accessible to college students, with a wide spectrum of
stimulating historical, sociological, and literary studies. In line with the most recent
scholarly trends, in her introduction Zeiner-Carmichael insists on presenting let-
ter-writing as both a means of communication and a literary form (and, eventually,
a genre). Te critical point is couched in a pedagogical argument, stressing the par-
ticularly direct involvement that letters elicit in their readers, their immediate and
long-term audiences alike, as active participants in the construction of the meaning
of an essentially dialogic text (pp. 15-17). At the same time as it includes a useful
survey of the meaning, forms, themes, purposes, and tools for the composition and
circulation of letters in the Roman world, the introduction also provides students
with reading paths through the anthologized corpus. Tese reading maps are mainly
thematic, but also rhetorical. Students can follow, for instance, the reverberation
through diferent texts not only of topics such as friendship, travel, women, enter-
tainment, literary production, death, exile, art, villas, illnesses, but also forms (and
formulas) related to vast discursive areas as slavery or griefwhether for the loss of
a beloved, a lover, or ones homeland (p. 17). Te students appreciation of stylistic
variance, insofar as it is possible with translated texts, of course, is also among the
goals of this anthology, which carefully introduces elements of distinction between
the various translated voices.
While the intended audience of the book is made clear and univocally artic-
ulated from the start as college students, the level and the kind of course in which
the book may be used is perhaps a more nuanced question. Te choice of publishing
the anthology fully in English, with no Latin or Greek original, makes it impos-
sible to use this volume as stand-alone textbook in an intermediate or advanced
Latin prose course. For these courses the book may best be used as a sourcebook for
further readings, enriching the students appreciation of the context in which these
texts were produced, circulated, and received. Te book may also be usefully adopted
in a comparative-literature course on letter writing as social activity, literary genre,
and cultural tradition across the ages or the continents. Te lively, contemporary
prose in which the author has rendered the ancient literary and non-literary texts
139
would defnitely be an asset when the book is used for presenting ancient texts to a
non-specialist audience.
NECJ 41.2 (2014) Ilaria Marchesi
Hofstra University
140
L E T T E R F R O M
T H E P R E S I D E N T
T
he 108th Annual Meeting of the Classical As-
sociation of New England occurred March
7-8, 2014, at beautiful Saint Anselm College
in Manchester, New Hampshire. Tere were so many wonderful
papers and workshops during those two days. In putting together
the Program, we took many things into consideration, and we in-
troduced some new workshops, like the Why Twitter and other
technology workshops, as well as bringing back some old ones,
like the Teachers Material Exchange, renamed as Forum Mag-
istrorum. My hope is that all who attended enjoyed the oppor-
tunity to learn from the presentersand to converse with friends
both new and old. To plan for future conferences, and to learn
how we can best serve you, we need your feedback. If you did
not already submit a completed Feedback Form, please email me
your thoughts.
I am grateful to so many people who made this Annual
Meeting possible. I thank this years exhibitors, Focus, Hackett,
Pearson, APA, Bolchazy Carducci, McGill University, CANE
Emporium, CANEPress, Summer Institute, Pericles Group,
Used Book Sale, and Campanian Society. I especially thank Bol-
chazy Carducci and ClassConn, who sponsored our breaks and
Friday nights Banquet, where we honored Paula Chabot with
the Matthew Wiencke Award and Richard Clairmont with the
Barlow-Beach Award. I am utterly grateful to the New Hamp-
shire Institute of Politics and St. Anselm College, President
Steve DiSalvo, the incredible Dr. David George, the local coor-
dinator who worked with the College, caterers, Te Puritan, and
the exhibitors; Dr. Sara Glenn, Donna Hume and the St. Anselm
students who toiled tirelessly behind the scenes, especially with
registration; the technology and maintenance staf who made it
all work; and fnally, the CANE Executive Committee, who have
been such a delight to serve alongside during this past year, and
141
who propped me up throughout the conference. Tey serve this
organization so well and with such humility. I am grateful to all
of these wonderful people, especially two:
our immediate past president, Geof Sumi, always a pa-
tient ear and a kind heart, whether I was trying to navi-
gate how to organize a conference, or how to manage the
role of president;
and, the incoming President of the Classical Association
of New England, Professor Elizabeth Keitel.
For those who do not know her, Dr. Keitel is an associate profes-
sor at University of Massachusetts in Amherst. She received her
PhD from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and
has published most recently on Tacitus and Cicero, with particu-
lar interest in Greek and Roman historiography and biography;
rhetoric; and women in antiquity.
I knew of Professor Keitel by reputation, of course, but I did
not get to know her grace and wit until working with her this
past year. She was responsible as President-Elect for overseeing
the Writing Contest with the State Reps, and the exhibitors for
this Annual Meeting. She has been an invaluable resource in or-
ganizing the Annual Meeting and every aspect of CANE oper-
ations thrown her way. And she has managed it all with a sense
of humor and diplomacy. I know she will do an exceptional job
as our CANE President.
As fnal items of note, the CANE Summer Institute will be
July 13-19 at Brown University; more info is available in this issue
and on the CANE website. Next years Annual Meeting will be
March 13-14, 2015, at Noble and Greenough School in Dedham,
Mass.
Optime valete,
Michael Deschenes
President, Classical Association of New England
142
L I S T O F B O O K S
R E C E I V E D , F E B R U A R Y 2 0 1 4
Publishers are invited to send new books for this list to
Prof. Jennifer Clarke Kosak,
NECJ Book Review Editor, Department of Classics, Bowdoin College,
7600 College Station, Brunswick, ME 04011;
jkosak@bowdoin.edu
Cyprian Broodbank, Te Making of the Middle Sea: A Hisory of the
Mediterranean from the Beginning to the Emergence of the Classical World.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Pp. 627. Cloth
(ISBN 978-0-19-999978-1) $49.95.
Dee L. Clayman, Berenice II and the Golden Age of Ptolemaic Egypt. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2013. Pp. 288. Paper (ISBN 978-0-19-537089-8) $27.95.
Rafaella Cribiore, Libanius the Sophis: Rhetoric, Reality, and Religion in the
Fourth Century. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 2013. Pp. x + 260.
Cloth (ISBN 978-0-8014-5207-9) $49.95.
Norbert H. O. Duckwitz, Reading the Gospel of St. Matthew in Greek.
Mundelein, Illinois: Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc., 2014. Pp. xii + 469.
Paper (ISBN 978-0-86516-817-6) $19.00.
Emma Gee, Aratus and the Asronomical Tradition. Oxford and New York:
Oxford University Press, 2013. Pp. 320. Cloth (ISBN 978-0-19-978168-3)
$65.00.
Rebecca F. Kennedy, C. Sydnor Roy and Max L. Goldman (selec. and trans.),
Race and Ethnicity in the Classical World: An Anthology of Primary Sources in
Translation. Indianapolis, Indiana: Hackett Publishing Company, 2013.
Pp. xxiii + 405. Paper (ISBN 978-1-60384-994-4) $19.00.
143
Peter E. Knox and J. C. McKeown (eds.), Te Oxford Anthology of Roman
Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013. Pp. xii + 633. Paper
(ISBN 978-0-19-539516-7) $35.00.
E. C. Marchant and O. J. Todd (trans.); Jefrey Henderson (revised),
Xenophon. Volume IV: Memorabilia. Oeconomicus. Symposium. Apology. Loeb
Classical Library 168. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press,
2013. Pp. 700. Cloth (ISBN 978-0-674-99695-3) $26.00.
Robert Mondi and Peter L. Corrigan, A Student Handbook of Greek and
English Grammar. Indianapolis, Indiana: Hackett Publishing Company.
Pp. xxii +150. Paper (ISBN 978-1-62466-036-8) $15.00.
Barry Powell (trans., intro. and notes), Homer, Te Iliad. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2014. Pp. xxv + 596. Paper (ISBN 978-0-19-992586-5) $16.95.
John H. Oakley, Te Greek Vase: Art of the Storyteller. Los Angeles, California:
J. Paul Getty Museum, 2013. Pp. 114. Cloth (ISBN 978-1-60606-147-3) $29.95.
Diane J. Rayor, Euripides Medea: A New Translation. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2013. Pp. xxix + 100. Paper (ISBN 978-1-107-65221-7) $14.99.
James Robson, Sex and Sexuality in Classical Athens. Edinburgh: Edinburgh
University Press, 2013. Pp. 224. Paper (ISBN 978-0-7486-3414-9) $40.00.
J. C. Rolfe (trans.); John T. Ramsey (rev.), Sallust: Te War with Catiline.
Te War with Jugurtha. Loeb Classical Library 116. Cambridge, Massachusetts:
Harvard University Press, 2013. Pp. 650. Cloth (ISBN 978-0-674-99684-7)
$26.00.
Steven H. Rutledge, A Tacitus Reader: Selections from Annales, Hisoriae,
Germania, Agricola and Dialogus. Mundelein, Illinois: Bolchazy-Carducci
Publishers, Inc., 2014. Pp. xlvii + 198. Paper (ISBN 978-0-86516-697-4) $19.00.
David Slavitt (trans.), Te Other Four Plays of Sophocles: Ajax, Women of
Trachis, Elecra, Philocetes. Baltimore, Maryland: Johns Hopkins University
Press, 2013. Pp. 272. Paper (ISBN 978-1-4214-1137-8) $19.95.
144
Roger B. Ulrich and Caroline K. Quenemoen (eds.), A Companion to Roman
Architecture. Chicheser, Wes Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2014.
Pp. xxiii + 589. Cloth (ISBN 978-1-4051-9964-3) $120.00.
Richard Upsher Smith, Jr., Ecclesiastical, Medieval and Neo-Latin Sentences
(Designed to Accompany Wheelocks Latin). Mundelein, Illinois:
Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc., 2014. Pp. xxiii + 332. Paper
(ISBN 978-0-86516-798-8) $24.00.
David A. Teegarden, Death to Tyrants! Ancient Greek Democracy and the
Struggle Against Tyranny. Princeton, New Jersey and Oxford: Princeton
University Press, 2013. Pp. 280. Cloth (ISBN 978-0-691-15690-3) $45.00.
Pamela Camardella Twomey with Suzanne Nussbaum, Ten Fairy Tales in
Latin. Mundelein, Illinois: Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc., 2013.
Pp. viii + 127. Paper (ISBN 978-0-86516-791-9) $19.00.
Rose Williams, Caesars Blood: Greek Tragedy in Roman Life. Mundelein,
Illinois: Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc., 2013. Pp. xvii + 162. Paper
(ISBN 978-0-86516-816-9) $15.00.
Rose Williams, Julius Caesar: Master of Surprise. Mundelein, Illinois:
Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc., 2013. Pp. x + 100. Paper
(ISBN 978-0-86516-800-8) $12.00.
Caroline Vout, Sex on Show: Seeing the Erotic in Greece and Rome. Berkeley and
Los Angeles, California: University of California Press, 2013. Pp. 272. Cloth
(ISBN 978-0-520-28020-5) $34.95.
145
146



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