Did Marathon Change Everything?

Via rogueclassicism and TheDartmouth.com.

Prof. Richard Billows, in the Darthmouth.com article mentioned above claims, in a lecture aimed at supporting his soon-to-be-published book on the topic, that the Battle of Marathon can be considered one of the pivotal moments of world history.

He argues that had the Athenians lost the battle at Marathon to the Persians, Western Civilisation would be radically different - there would be no democracy, no Socrates or Plato, no Aeschylus or Sophocles. Essentially, he's claiming that the victory at Marathon set the tone for the next two generations - a period of immense intellectual, cultural and political development.

His argument is full of "mays", "maybes" and "mights". I have to say I find it a little bit tiresome. It can be an interesting exercise, but it seems like a stroke of poor imagination to pick an event (even though Marathon is well chosen) and say: "things could maybe possible be much different if that single event had never transpired or ended in a different fashion!".

I think as human beings we like these kind of explanations - they appeal to us and we enjoy the mental exercise of "what if?", but I think "research" and speculation on the topic is mostly a waste of time. I don't think we need a book on it.

Moreover - why choose Marathon? It's a single event that can be easily labelled, I suspect. Why not choose, say, the Persian decision to invade Greece, the weather or any assortment of other factors? I reckon it's because they don't have the same "pull" as the "big" events of history, but they seem to be to be just as equally valid.

Speculative counter-factual history can be interesting or fun (Nazi's hiding on the moon!?) but in the field of classics, and especially when taken seriously, it seems like a colossal waste of time to me. It has a tiny bit of merit insomuch as it may call attention to things we take for granted, but it's a fun mental exercise, nothing more.

It's overly simplistic to choose a single event and say it changed everything. Ignoring the fact that it's built on the idea that ultimately there is a prime mover of some sort in every sequence of events, it just demonstrates a lack of true imagination and demonstrates a fondness for simple or stark explanations. The flourishing of Athens after Marathon was part of a development stretching much further back in time - it was an instance on an enormous time scale which we can't really comprehend. Explanations such as this one are poor attempts at doing so.

I don't have a problem with artistic licence being taken in books, novels or TV shows - in fact, in these cases, reading into historical events can be interesting, it's just the notion of taking counter-factual history as a useful tool in genuine historical discourse that I dislike. Maybe I'm being a stick in the mud, though!

Historical approaches becoming history.

I've recently been reading A.R Burn's "History of Greece" (the 1965 edition) and it I felt compelled to make a post regarding the differences in approaches to the study of history over time.

Burn's book itself is excellent. It spans Greece from it's first peoples until her role under the Christian Roman Emperors, with the focus mostly on the Classical and Hellenistic periods, especially in Athens. The focus itself betrays the preoccupations of 1960s scholarship - the Classical period and Classical Athens in particular. However, where it becomes quintessentially old fashioned is in it's content.

For the purpose of this post I focused on a section of the book called "The Great Fifty Years: Athenian Society", as I think it helps contrast the differences in scholarship over the past fifty years.

It got me to thinking: If there was a new book out today called "Athenian Society" what topics may it cover? Politics and public life would be, naturally, part of it, but there would be so much more and they wouldn't necessarily be the focus. There would be sections on the family, the role of women, gender, social activities and what they said about the Athenian character, sexuality, an interest in other forms of literature and what they can tell us (the novel for example, esp. in Hellenistic times). Most of these topics are inherently modern, and they're not included in any real doses within Burn's section on "Athenian Society".

For him, "Athenian Society" means the way democracy operated, the intellectual atmosphere (philosophers and sophists) and what Pericles was up to. Attitudes really have changed. In many respects Burn's brand of narrative history is no longer in fashion, and I think that's a bit of a shame.

Some of my finest memories from my time at University were in "narrative" style lessons on Greek history. Covering the Persian Wars, or Greece after the Peloponnesian War. Discussing how many boats were at Artemisium and what our sources tell us. Asking whether Herodotus exaggerated something yet again and all the time quasi-worshipping Thucydides as a proto-modern historian (modern, of course, now meaning old fashioned).

The foreword to the book has a nice section where Burn introduces the book's "modern" approach, insomuch as it doesn't just consider the military or political events (which "have been traditionally considered the stuff of history proper") but seeks to introduce "public affairs" to the area of study. The thought dawned on me that all things that are once modern will also be once old fashioned.

In some respects reading the book reminded me of the fact that we should never forget to remove the goggles of our own time, nor the dogmatism of our approaches - for those of the past can still teach us much. I love reading Burn's book (it's almost in pieces these days) and enjoy the style of it, it's handy "for travelling" size, the wonderful fold-out chronological table, and it's dedication to "young travellers".

There is a spirit in the book that transcends historical approaches, and I believe it's that love of history that kept Greek history lectures at 4pm on a Wednesday afternoon in a basement with an aging, ruffled haired, academic cape wearing Professor absolutely essential viewing.

The "Elginism" Movement.

I recently came across the website for a rather interesting internet movement, which operates under the banner - "Elginism".

I'm sure the name "Elgin" will be familiar to anyone who reads this, but in short, Lord Elgin, a British aristocrat, took the Parthenon marbles (often called the Elgin Marbles - a label I dislike) from Greece at the dawn of the 19th century and transported them to London, where they remain. That the British Government has not given the marbles back to Greece is a subject of much debate.

The website (here) defines Elginism as:

Elginism (ĕl’gĭnĭz’əm) n. 1801. An Act of cultural vandalism.

The aim of the movement and it's general ideals can be garnered here.

In short, it's a movement that wants the Parthenon marbles given back to Greece. It hosts a phenomenal amount of material, from all over the globe, regarding the marbles and the notion that they should be given back to Greece. Personally, I tend to agree.

For quite some time the British Museum has maintained the defence that Greece, and specifically Athens, has no place to properly display the marbles. While this may or may not have been true, earlier this year The New Acropolis Museum opened, and seemed to finally dismiss the British arguments for keeping the marbles, as now there was a suitable place for them to be housed.

Still, though, the British Museum has persisted. On their website they outline the idea that the marbles are part of "everyone’s shared heritage and transcend cultural boundaries", which while certainly a moot point, seems rather like a stubborn "bugger off Greece, you're not getting them, new museum or not". It betrays a thinly veiled arrogance that the marbles belong in London, which I think is mistaken.

There is no doubt in my mind that, as the Elginism movement states, Lord Elgin essentially stole the marbles for his own benefit (he sold them to the British museum in 1817) and it makes the very idea of them being in London a rather soiled and unfortunate one. The argument that in London the marbles are displayed in an "international cultural context" is a pretty poor one in my opinion. Strictly, of course, it's true, but it's still, not to put too fine a point on it, utter tosh.

The idea that London owns the cultural legacy of the marbles makes little sense to me. They are part of Greece's most important monument, and a religious one at that - they should be there.

There is an interesting philosophical question at the heart of this - if something is of global cultural significance, should anyone actually claim to own it? Perhaps not, but this applies to the British as much as the Greeks.

It will be debated for years to come, I have no doubt, but I just happen to feel that they should be given back to Greece simply because the Parthenon is there and they belong to the Parthenon.

California is the Best of Classical Greece...

Something I spotted over at Rogueclassicism today caught my attention. It seems that Arnold Schwarzenegger, Governor of California, is using classical references in his speeches (when I say references, I mean blatant comparisons). This one comes from his 2007 State of the State address:

“We are the modern equivalent of the ancient city-states of Athens and Sparta. California has the ideas of Athens and the power of Sparta.”

"What a bloody strange thing to say", I thought to myself when I first read this. It got me to thinking: is the Governator (I don't get tired of using that sobriquet!) aware of the possible implications of his comparison?

I wonder - when he says California has the "ideas" of Athens and the "power" of Sparta, does he imagine that they'll work together initially, under a common goal (drive out those damn Persians again!), then when that goal's been achieved (Ciao Xerxes), they'll start to bicker until it's full blown war (Elephant Vs Whale - The Peloponnesian War)?

I applaud that he realises Athens and Sparta were city-states, but he seems to have missed the idea that they were great rivals, and that their respective strengths (as he labels them) were what caused them to become such great rivals. Continuing his analogy surely means California is heading for a troubled time.

The (modern stereotyped) image of City-Hall having chiseled, red cape wearing Spartan musclemen arguing with the intellectual, pederastic Athenian philosophers about which direction the state of California should take does make for some laughs (I think!)

My final thought was - will the "ideas" eventually be subjugated by the "power" and will California have to endure 30 tyrants? If so, it'll need the Governator at his best to drive them out. Another potential upshot is - once they've fought themselves into weakness, who'll be the Thebes that runs in and takes over in the aftermath?

The Washington Post reports that he continues the comparison by labelling California a "nation-state". One hopes he realises the potential for comparisons by extension - the city-states of Greece were famous four, if anything!, their incessant bickering and fighting.

The potential pitfalls of using comparisons with the classical world are numerous and it seems that the Governator has fell directly into one, and in turn highlights the difficult nature of using the classical world to get a modern political foot up.

Reading into his analogy is all just a bit of fun and could probably be continued ad absurdum. For example, does he realise the "power" of Sparta relied heavily on her rigid class system that actively exploited all non-Spartiates? Or that Athens, for all her ideas, ruled over two naval Empires that heavily exploited those under her protection? I could go on, but I won't

All in all, a rather interesting thing for the Governator to say, and something which has, no doubt, provided a fair but of discussion among classicists as to whether he really knew what he was saying, or if some speech writer simply thought it weighty enough to appeal to the common Californian. There is of course the possibility that, among the Governator's staff, there is a closet classicist sneaking references into his/her bosses' speeches!

The Tyrannicides are back.

Some rather good news. It seems that the Farnese collection in Naples is set to reopen it's doors on October 2nd.

Blogging Pompeii (a really excellent blog for everyone involved in archaeological work around the Bay of Naples) reports (from an Italian news service - available here) that the entire collection is scheduled to open once more to the public as of next month. The collection was undergoing a "reorganisation".

Given the quality of the collection, this is really superb news. The collection holds, among other treasures, the sculpture of the Athenian Tyrannicides (who were, monumental in the development of the Classical Athenian character and society). The pederastic couple of Harmodius and Aristogeiton (Ἁρμόδιος and Ἀριστογείτων) "liberated" Athens from the Peisistratids, and their legend subsequently became the symbol and heart of Athenian democracy.

Rather interestingly, although this is almost always the case, the extant sculpture is a Roman copy of a Greek copy of the original. The story goes - and it's a little confusing, as many stories regarding our extant statues are - that the Persians nicked the original when they sacked Athens in 480 B.C.E and depending on who you read, either Alexander or Seleucus the 1st returned it to the city sometime later.

In the meantime the Athenians produced a copy to replace the stolen original. Neither of these two Athenian versions are still around, and so the copy we have is a Roman reproduction (or original work, as you care to interpret it) of the 2nd Athenian version. The copy we have, although now in Naples, was originally found in Tivoli (near Rome) at Hadrian's Villa.

This is interesting for several reasons. Firstly, Hadrian was an immense collector of art, and one wonders how the democratic ideal represented by the Tyrannicides was installed within his Villa and how the inherent irony of it being placed in the villa of an Emperor played out to those that viewed it.

Secondly - Hadrian himself knew the power of a pederastic relationship (with Antonius, a young member of his entourage), and I wonder what elements of his own experience he could compare with that exuded by the statues.

The reorganisation seems to be a wonderful idea. According to the Italian news source, they've attempted to

"respond to the policy of exploiting the work through the reconstruction, where possible contexts of origin and to reconstruct the context and the time of formation of the collector's collection itself".

All in all a rather good idea. Viewing sculpture is a complex activity, and almost everything can change our affect our interpretation of the sculpture we're viewing. It's perhaps opening a can of worms to really try and set the works into their original context, for the notion of recreating the original context is, in itself, an act of creation. That said, it's an admirable pursuit, and I look forward to being able to view it, and witnessing how the new setting will affect the impact of viewing the statue.

Google Translate, rather usefully, can turn the Italian news source into an "English" one, which, although my Italian is pretty weak, seems to be a worthy translation. Link here.

The Bad Citizen in Classical Athens.

I recently read Matthew R. Christ's (MC, from now on) excellent and well researched study "The Bad Citizen in Classical Athens". I picked it up for a few reasons. Primary among them was that I wanted to do something on a period of ancient history before the coming of Rome, but up there was also the fact that I'd heard this book was a really fine one. That turned out to be true.

MC's aim in writing this book, as he states in his introduction, was to offer some balance to the discussion over the "Athenian experience" (that is, how it was to be an Athenian living in the 5th century B.C.E) by way of highlighting the "bad citizen", i.e. the citizen that shirked military duties, the paying of tax and other civil payments or "donations".

Essentially the argument is for us to eschew the romanticised portrait of Athenian citizens of being overwhelmingly patriotic and concerned more with public than self interest, and realise that the truth was a great deal murkier. In his introduction MC argues that the Athenian citizen (especially a wealthy one) was particularly adept at working his way around financial and civic obligations.

The work is accordingly separated into four sections covering three different ways in which a "bad citizen" shirks Athenian civic obligations. They are entitled: "The Self Interested Citizen", "The Reluctant Conscript", "The Cowardly Hoplite"and finally "The Artful Tax Dodger". The ways a bad citizen may manifest themselves are outlined as the following: attempting to avoid conscription, cowardice when on military duty and also the avoidance of financial obligations that the wealthiest citizens were subject to.

M.C argues in the "Self Interested Citizen" that the "Athenian Experience", as it were, was much more self-centred than is commonly said. He points towards certain anxieties apparent in our sources (comedy, tragedy and oratory) regarding the dichotomy within an Athenian citizen with respect to self interest and common duty to the civic body.

He claims that the entire Athenian system acknowledged the "self-interested" citizen, and so only aimed to enforce civic obligation when absolutely required. He rests this argument on the idea that Athenian democracy promoted individualism and equality, which promoted self interest but had certain inbuilt mechanisms for coercing civic duties out of the reluctant.

The next two chapters ("The Reluctant Conscript" and "The Cowardly Hoplite") cover MC's arguments regarding the bad citizen in relation to the military. MC argues that many were reluctant to be conscripted into the army, pointing towards the anxiety apparent in tragedy of this fact, and also the more straight forward notion that conscription was required because not enough would volunteer.

The latter chapter consists of M.C's quite excellent description of Athenian military life, and how it left much room for the bad citizen to manifest himself, be it via cowardice, desertion or a myriad of other ways.

The final section is an analysis of how the wealthiest Athenians actively avoided (or tried to reduce) the financial obligation put upon them by the state. M.C claims these Athenians practically made a full-time job out of tax evasion. He points towards the obligation placed on the richest citizens to fund public shows (the chorus in the theatre, for example) and also exceptional financial expectations put upon them during times of strife (such as the Persian Invasion, the Peloponnesian War and the loss of the Athenian Empire in the 4th century B.C.E).

The book is excellently argued, and nicely detailed. It's intensely difficult to disagree with M.C significantly at any stage - he paints a very convincing picture of the "Athenian Experience", and an altogether more convincing one the romantic norm. There is perhaps an element of wishful thinking (or jealously/envy) when those of us from the 20th and 21st Century imagine the patriotic and selfless Athenians and compare them to the intensely self interested citizens of today's wealthy nations, and attempting to see through this is a thoroughly worthy enterprise.

To that end M.C presents an excellent study, which has plenty of depth and strikes a chord as being full and sensible in it's conclusions regarding Athenian life. It remains thoroughly useful to question what is accepted, and in doing so here I believe M.C has managed to uncover something vital and interesting about the "Athenian Experience", and while there is much room for debate, that is of great service to us all.

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Relevant bibliography:

Christ, M.R, "The Bad Citizen in Classical Athens", Cambridge (2006)

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Interestingly, M.C recently reviewed a work by Peter Liddell which takes a profoundly different view of the interaction between individual and his city than the one M.C advocates. The review can be found here at Bryn Mawr and is extremely interesting, as M.C takes a 3rd person view, so to speak, and has to defend his work and criticise Liddell's different view. Read with his book, it can be seen as a sort of meta-self-commentary, which is both useful and interesting.

The debate here continues as M.C also reviewed Gabriel Herman's "Morality and Behaviour in Democratic Athens: A Social History", to which Herman has replied (all at Bryn Mawr).

M.C on Herman here.
Herman's response here.

For what it's worth, I'm still with M.C, because I think he's more convincing. Although I may have further thoughts to add to this after I chew it over a bit more.

Update: It's been chewed over, and I still agree with M.C. On the whole he's more agreeable, and he's certainly right when he mentions the very polemical nature of Herman's prose. That said, Herman makes some interesting points, especially with regards the uniqueness of Athenian society in so many ways. He's rather unforgiving, and although I would need to read his work fully to make a proper judgement, I'm leaning towards the more pessimistic view (as it's called - but is it?) of Athenian society.

Some thoughts on John W. Humphrey's "Ancient Technology".

As mentioned in my future plans post, I have recently been reading John W. Humphrey's "Ancient Technology". I've long considered this particular area a weakness in my all round knowledge of Classical History, and searching out this work was a conscious effort to plug that gap. Generally, owing mainly to the quality of Humphrey's assessment, I think I have succeeded.

As part of the series "Greenwood guides to historic events of the ancient world", the work, perhaps rather predictably, begins with a series foreword by editor Bella Vivante. Given the status of the book as accessible to the general reader, this foreword is quite necessary, but I must confess as someone quite well versed in the classics, I find these forewords a bit of a bore. Essentially the thrust of this one, like most others, is a justification of classical studies.

Considering the decline of classics in schools, I understand the need to defend the discipline to the general reader, and in that respect the foreword is reasonably well written and informative. Nevertheless, it's not why I picked up the book.

Humphrey's begins with a rather snappy and interesting foreword, explaining the background behind the book, introducing the topics to come and suggesting methods of attacking the material within. I found his introductory remarks extremely useful, as they implore the reader to consider, to my mind, two things: Firstly, to consider all elements of ancient technology in context, that is to say - one must forever try not to apply modern standards to classical times - this thought is prevalent throughout the work, especially in the last chapter.

Secondly, he stresses the long term impact of technology, and in particular wants the reader to appreciate that all breakthroughs are based on ideas and inventions that precede them, essentially that where we are now is merely the peak of an ever growing pyramid of technological advances, even seemingly tiny ones.

An interesting device that Humphrey's uses to display the relative explosion in technological advances in the past 3000 years (when compared to the lengthy existence of humans) is to compress 500,000 years into one single year. The result is that on Jan 16th man can make simple tools without any standardisation of form, and then it takes to December 2nd for this to finally happen. Settled life did not begin until the 25th, the Greek alphabet was appeared as 01:40 on the 30th and man went to the moon at 11:30pm on the same day (pg. 10-11).

This compact and easily understood explanation is characteristic of Humphrey's throughout the book, and in helping set everything into context, it is utterly invaluable.

The rest of his introductory sections are also useful and interesting, not to mention expertly methodological. In particular, I liked his section on the problems of literary sources for technology - I found it illuminating and thoughtful.

One thing that is immediately clear as one exits the opening sections is that there is no referencing (a common trend), and while irritating to the academic reader, the work is also aimed at the general reader. That said, this is more than made up for by the copious other useful items added to the end of the work (which I'll mention later).

The remainder of the book is organised into sections, each related to a particular technological field, the topics cover: food and clothing; water, shelter and security, transportation and coinage, recordkeeping and timekeeping and crafts. Generally speaking the organisation into these sections make the work accessible, and prevents it from getting stale. Each section is swift yet detailed.

One of the elements constantly reinforced (even at this point) is the idea that simple devices can have many (perhaps unforeseen) future applications (pg.34) and so Humphrey's urges the reader to be aware of this fact. This is particularly important in the final chapter.

Throughout the work Humphrey's manages to employ a number of highly interesting, tart explanations and comparisons that really help colour the readers understanding of ancient technology. For example, in discussing sieges, he mentions that attacking armies would attempt to poison water supplies to the besieged town using corpses, and he immediately informs the reader that even biological warfare had it's roots in antiquity (pg.35-36). The work in general has a great ability to skim the fat and get to the point of things, often with stark and interesting devices such as this.

Another example is when Humphrey's compares the Oedipus myth to modern road rage (pg.78). While humourous when taken lightly, these brief explanations also serve to reinforce one of the books main points: that all modern technology can be traced back, and that everything is the sum product of what has come before. In this way, Humphrey's utilises these little comparisons to maximum effect.

Somewhat related to this is Humphrey's wonderful explanations of Latin and Greek terminology, where he often gives not just a translation and explanation, but also etymology of the word in question. Some good examples include one that arises from a discussion of the importance of salt (pg.76). Humphrey's outlines the the Via Salaria, that left Rome towards the salt deposits, and the salarium - the yearly allowance given to soldiers so that they could purchase salt - and how, through over 2000 years, this word is the root of our modern word "salary". His explanation is delightful.

Another example of this is the Spanish Balearic Islands, who got their name via the Greek word "baleareis" (to launch) and the Latin word Ballistae (projectile weapons) and the fact that the inhabitants of this area were renowned for their fighting style using these methods (pg.65). It seems there is some debate around the etymology in this case (some of our sources believe the word has Phoenician roots), but Humphrey's provides a valid and interesting explanation. These are just a few instances - the book is literally crammed full of interesting facts, reported in a vivid and lively manner.

Continuing in this style, Humphrey's manages to expose a few common misconceptions, for example that the pyramids were too advanced to be built by humans of that period (he proves that the technology was relatively simple, pg.55). He also challenges the image of Roman aquaducts as the primary source of water to the city, giving ample evidence that they were, in fact, the least common supply method (pg.44).

One of the slightly darker notions that Humphrey raises is the fact that both Classical Athens and Imperial Rome were financially driven by their mineral wealth (at Laurion and Rio Tinto, respectively), and that this mineral wealth, which kick started and supported them so much was effectively brought at the price of countless deaths (pg.108). The dead were, of course, slaves. That the wealth of these mines helped drive technological development is a dark fact that Humphrey is deeply aware of, and explains well.

The work does, however, have a few weaknesses. Some arise from slightly hazy statements, and one or two from poor sentence structure.

One example is that Humphrey's, when remarking on the Roman pride for their decimal system, mentions that Centurions commanded 100 men, but he fails to mention that this changes substantially in the Later Republic and especially after the Marian reforms (dropping below 100, and levelling out at around 80 - although the Centurions kept their names).

Another such occasion is when he mentions the axle blades of the chariot, especially with regards to the Gauls using them (pg.72) but he fails to qualify his statements here, which is bizarre given his extensive experience in archaeological field research, because there is absolutely no archaeological evidence for the existence of these weapons. I found this a particularly strange episode.

A case of poor sentence structure arises when Humphrey's is talking about the Emperors commissioning the building of enormous bath complexes (thermae) and he mistakenly includes Agrippa, who was never Emperor by any definition, among the list of dedicators (pg.48). The sentence is as follows: "Thermae, huge bathing complexes donated by the emperors to benefit the general population of the city. Three had been erected in Rome by the end of the first century C.E.: those of Agrippa and Nero in the Campus Martius, and that of Titus just east of the Colosseum". It could do with some simple editing, as it's misleading as it is.

Humphrey's also seems quite sure of the purpose of Hadrian's wall (pg.64), when in fact there is considerable doubts of what it's intended purpose actually is, especially considering the fact that it's almost never mentioned in our literary sources. Highlighting the academic debate would have been desirable, but Humphrey's makes no mention of it.

Finally, although this particular criticism is a tad unfair. The work is almost entirely focused on the Mediterranean, and while Humphrey's concedes this in his preface (claiming the limits of his own knowledge, and space constraints as the reasons why), it's perhaps a little unfortunate, as a treatment of ancient technology must really consider the influences of many disparate sources had on each other to be truly useful. In this respect, the title of the work is perhaps a little misleading and it may be better understood as a work on the Ancient Technology of Mediterranean Cultures.

Moving towards the end of the book, the final chapter is an exceptionally clear one. Arguing against putting modern perspectives of expectation onto ancient technological advances (he refutes the whole question of why the ancients didn't have an industrial revolution), and outlining why exactly classical civilisations did not such a revolution (a culmination of social attitudes towards manual labour, technology and the supreme interest in land and agriculture) he ties of the book quite nicely with stressing the fact that all technological advances are built upon, and that we cannot criticise the ancients for never making the leap to industrial organisation, when we have used the technological advances handed down to us in such terrible ways. Ending the work on this note brings back acute focus to the idea that all advances, no matter how small, have consequences in the future, and rounds the book off quite nicely.

The final sections of the book are a triumph, in my opinion. Humphrey's includes a large list of "primary sources" detailing all the evidence for the technology described within the book, and they are extremely interesting and accessible. He also includes a good glossary, and an extensive bibliography complete with comments on each entry - a welcome addition. Another feature is a recommendation of internet sites worth visiting and also video resources. In combination all these sections make the book an invaluable reference guide, and as a stepping stone to further research.

The work, then, is generally a great success. It's concise, interesting and well organised. The few faults it does have, of which the Agrippa confusion I hope will be rectified in the future, are easily outweighed by it's considerable good points. It stresses the importance of perspective, and in many ways gives one a greater understanding of the human journey from caveman to modern man, and how each small discovery was used and then built upon to get us where we are today. Combined with the witty and readable style, I consider it to be an excellent guide to the topic of both ancient technology and the development of modern humans.


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Relevant bibliography: Humphrey, John W, "Ancient Technology", Greenwood (2006).