Old Shoes.

Not especially insightful this one, I imagine. Anyway, here I go.

A news story caught my eye this week - that of the bloody old shoe! (read it here). Essentially, some archaeologists found a 5500 year old leather shoe in a cave in Armenia preserved under heaps of sheep dung (finds don't get much more interesting than that, do they?!).

Anyway, you're perhaps wondering how I'm going to squeeze a classical angle out of this and here it is: finds like this always remind me that the ancient world wasn't that ancient. It's often a bit of a mental challenge for me to remember that very little changed in everyday life for a few millennia (until the 19th and mostly 20th century) and that the ancients lived relatively similar lives to people alive just a few hundred years ago (stress on the "relatively").

I'm always surprised when I see artefacts from ancient homes - shoes, mirrors, hair clasps, cups - the lot. Something in my mind always associates the ancients with being truly ancient. Finds like this remind me that the Romans had shoes quite similar to modern leather shoes and they're really not so distant as they seem.

Perhaps this post betrays my own stupidity, but I always find keeping a firm chronology in my head (and understanding that time matters) can be rather difficult. It's rather easy to clump the whole of antiquity to together, even though there are some 500 years or so between the beginning of the classical period and the death of Augustus, for example. A lot happened, and a lot changed.

Like I mentioned before - everyday life hadn't changed too much during that period, and so perhaps it's unfair to compare that five hundred years to the same period between the 1500s and now, where life has changed significantly, but nevertheless, it's vital to remember that antiquity is not a single period but rather many linked ones.

That's my ramble over for today. It's insanely beautiful weather here in Plzen and I plan to try to enjoy it with several beers from this wonderful place.

An Integrated History of the Ancient Mediterranean - A lecture series by Robert Garland (Part Two).

During my Scottish sojourn I managed to listen to the next chunk of my Robert Garland lecture series (lectures 12-19, although personally I think 20 should be included too), which focus on the consequences of Roman hegemony over Greece for both cultures, and ergo that's what I'm going to ramble on about today.

Like I mentioned in a post below, I lost my notes for this post on a Prague to Paris flight, so it will be somewhat briefer than I had initially envisaged.

In many respects this part of the series is where it all really get's going - the entire premise can finally be fully discussed. The lectures preceding number 12 take a very wide view of Greek and Roman history (linking them together almost from the off), leading right up until the Roman conquest but this, though, naturally precludes the period of full blown Philhellenism that comes after said occupation. This is where an understanding of Greco-Roman culture can really begin, I think.

Garland covers a range of topics, starting with philhellenism and hellenophobia (literally love for all thinks Greek and fear of those things), before covering the two languages, leisure, sex, religion, Greeks in Rome and Romans in Greece and the Hellenism of Augustus.

Like the previous lectures, Garland retains a depth of analysis and thickness of research that makes for wonderful listening. I especially liked his discussion of various concepts such as "leisure" and "work" and how they differed between Greece and Rome, but also how the very nature of the words in their respective languages mean very different things than they do to us today. It really allows one to get "inside the head" of a Roman or Greek, and that's no mean feat.

The topical nature of each lecture gives a really great overview of Rome and Greece as now integrated cultures, and how they influenced each other in quite profound ways. That said, one of the central thrusts of the lectures is that despite their history being integrated, they are vastly different. The typical flow of each lecture discusses how it's topic relates to Greece and how it then relates to Rome, and the passing of cultural information between them.

In some respects I think the term "Greco-Roman" undermines the idea of an entirely integrated history, for it has a clear division within it.

For me the best lecture in the series is the final one (that I've added to this chunk of lectures myself, although I don't recall that Garland does) on the Hellenism of Augustus. Garland argues that Augustus (when he took that moniker) "ruled" in a manner very similar to the Greek dynasts of the past, insomuch as he needed Greek models for his autocracy (the Romans had none), and he copied Greek forms of artistic representation (the Augustus Prima Porta is a far cry from the somewhat weedy, spotty Augustus we hear of).

In this way, Augustus was the full genesis of Hellenism - he took Greek ideas and Romanised them (or vice versa - how the cultures interacted truly is rather complex), and from his reign forward, I think it's fair to really consider them integrated cultures rather than merely closely related.

To use Garland's terminology, those living under Augustus could be considered "Mediterranean Men" - that is to say "people with a shared vision and living under similar conditions". This notion is one that only really begins to make sense under the rule of Augustus and afterwards, and I think it certainly has a great deal of mileage.

These lectures, then, take us from the Roman conquest until a point where Greece and Rome are intricately connected as one entity (although with distinct parts, so to speak), and the form a central part of Garland's arguments - that the two cultures should be studied together, not in isolation. Thus far, I agree with him. The series has been incredibly interesting, and considering Rome and Greece together in the same story very worthwhile.

The next part of the series covers the full birth of Greco-Roman culture after the reign of Augustus, and I'll be posting about it in the future sometime.

He, Clavdivs.

I spent this morning watching the first four parts (or so) of the great I, Claudius. Robert Graves once said that he disliked how popular the book and TV show had become, and even claimed that he wrote it for money and to a publisher's deadline for a book. Nevertheless, I think it's cracking, and lots of others do too.

I've decided against criticising it's historical veracity - it plays loose with the history, but I believe it's such a great work of fiction (based, of course, on real enough events) that sticking to the history is not the be all and end all. Instead I'm just putting some thoughts and reflections into this post.

The show is narrated by an elderly Claudius who decides to tell the story of his family (and by gum, it's one huge extended and complicated family the man has - as one glance at a full Julio-Claudian family tree will tell you). Thus, the series begins 6 or so years after the Battle of Actium (putting it around 25 or 24 B.C.E) and with each episode it jumps a quite a few years. The final episode I watched today closed with the death of Augustus (in 14 C.E) meaning it has covered some 39 years in a mere 4 episodes.

The historical skeleton Graves used to pin his story onto was already juicy enough (he bases the story on Tacitus and the famous gossip Suetonius) - the family drama of the Julio-Claudians in this period was really great stuff - full of intrigue, jealousy, bad luck and even a bit of murder (maybe). The greatest thing about Graves' story is that it brings to life an immensely complicated and important period of Roman history - one can believe in the characters, and get a real flavour for their family dramas.

The scheming of Livia (exaggerated but really compelling viewing!) and the trials of Augustus' search for a successor (everyone keeps getting murdered by Livia!) let alone the various pressures of being part of the Imperial family on it's many members, who are variously seen having all sorts of problems. The focus is the Imperial family, not political movings and shakings (although, they of course, are what the Imperial family was all about).

The direction, writing and acting are all top notch (getting a glimpse of a personal hero of mine - Patrick Stewart - as Sejanus was a particular high point for me) and I must concede that I adore the TV show - and it really, really stands the test of time. It's some 33 years old now, but barely shows it.

Derek Jacobi is in scene stealing form as Claudius, cerebral palsy (the modern consensus is) and all. The characterisation of Claudius by Graves and Jacobi's personification of that character make the whole show work. Graves reads into the history and we're all the better for it. We can get a feeling for the motivations and the emotions of these historical figures, and while they may not be true, such conjecture can help bring the ancient world to life in a way that is often difficult for us to grasp.

When the more recent series Rome appeared on TV screens a few years ago, many folks in the media billed it as natural successor to I, Claudius. In many respects, I think that's quite true. Rome boasts a huge budget and lavish sets, while I, Claudius was filmed mainly on indoor stages, but the quality of both is exceptionally high. The focus of Rome was the Julio-Claudians in their infancy, and we are connected to the history via two plebeian soldiers. In I, Claudius the rank and file get little mention, and the focus remains the Imperial family - I think this shift in interest reflects changes in scholarship in the 70 or so years between the writing of Graves' book and the production of Rome.

The greatest strength that both shows share is that they animate Roman history and bring it's characters to life. We can see Caesar at the Rubicon, Octavian triumph over Mark Antony, Augustus weep when his adopted sons Gaius and Lucius both die young and witness the temperament of Tiberius - how sympathetic yet unlikeable he is. We cannot get this from the ancient historians to the same extent, and that is where historical fiction (of really good quality) comes into it's own.

Funnily enough, I think the best works of historical fiction are also the best researched ones, and often those rooted in real events are the most exciting. I suppose this is an indicator of just how fascinating ancient history is and how complex her famous figures were. I, Claudius illustrates this perfectly.

The Res Gestae – A Podcast.

Those nice folks at the University of Warwick (Alison Cooley and – I’m guessing based on something said – Peter Pormann) recently released a rather neat podcast on the topic of Augustus and his Res Gestae (The Queen of Inscriptions, as Mommsen called it), which is available, via the University of Warwick website, here: Augustus Podcast.

The podcast runs around 32 minutes, with Pormann acting as interviewer and Cooley as interviewee (although it’s much more informal than that suggests). Pormann introduces the major topics in the study of Augustus – his rise to power, becoming Princeps, his foreign policy, the imperial family and his search for a successor etc, while Cooley responds.

The content is pretty interesting, although there was very little that someone familiar with the period won’t already know – the podcast is likely for undergraduate students, and coincides with the release of Cooley’s new translation of the Res Gestae.

The discussion takes an interesting turn at a few points. Cooley’s explanations regarding how the inscription would be displayed and viewed in Ancient Rome (it’s sheer size meant it was unlikely to be read in its entirety, but the ubiquity of the inscription would mean all Romans were familiar with it, and by inference what Augustus had done for them) are especially good, and insightful (seeing the world of Ancient Rome through their eyes is notoriously difficult, but it’s always worth trying).

Similarly when she tells of the inscriptions history, and especially where it was found (in the Eastern Empire – Ankara, Galatia and Antioch), the podcast is also at its best. In particular I liked her explanations regarding the differences in context and language between the three extant inscriptions (Ankara is in Latin and Greek, Antioch just in Latin and Galatia in Greek).

The view of Augustus’ later reign as being devoid of “fireworks” and somewhat negative, is also pretty refreshing. Understanding the Res Gestae as a part response to the eight or so years of political and social problems seems fruitful to me. Afterall, Varus’ loss of the legions, the revolt in Pannonia and Augustus’ familial problems (the death of successors, and the transgression of his moral laws by his daughter and granddaughter) certainly put a dark taint on his reign towards its end. Erecting a huge inscription to remind everyone what he had done for them over his long public career would be a suitable response.

If I had to throw some criticism on the podcast, I’d say is that there a lack of continuity with naming, especially in the early parts of the show. There is mention of Octavian, Augustus, Octavianus and Julius Caesar Octavianus Son of a God, but little clarity about the reasonably clear periods in which each name was used (even if they are only clear because modern scholarship tends to use them).

One other slight criticism is that there is little discussion on the historical veracity of Augustus’ claims in the Res Gestae, despite the podcast claiming to discuss the topic. This, though, really is just a bit of me being pedantic.

Overall, it’s a really nice idea, interesting content, and although, like I said earlier, it has nothing new for those familiar with the topic, it's still a nice piece. Moreover hearing Cooley talk about the topic of her new book is interesting, but, given the content of the podcast, I do wonder if her updated edition of the Res Gestae will really contain enough new material to supersede my Brunt and Moore copy, which has been a trusty companion for a long while.

For the interested, I took photographs of the inscription as it is placed in modern Rome during my visit there this past July. They’re big enough for the entire inscription to be read, in Latin, and they are available in one of my previous posts here: Roman Holiday Post.

Ludi Romani and Actium.

This period of September was party time for the ancient Romans. From September 4th until the 19th (this seems to be the final length, as it was much shorter prior to the last century of the Republic and prior to Caesar's death started on the 5th - it was moved earlier in honour of him) they celebrated the Ludi Romani (Roman Games) - a religious festival honouring JVPITER OPTIMVS MAXIMVS (Jupiter best and greatest).

Following a procession from the Capitoline Hill to the Circus Maximus, the Romans engaged in chariot racing and some theatrical productions. Given Jupiter's status at the zenith of the Roman Pantheon, these games were the more important on the religious calendar. I've always found the Ludi Romani quite fascinating, yet the get comparatively little attention compared to the events that took place in the Colosseum (once it was built in the 1st Century .C.E), despite being the principal festival of the religious year. A testament to this is that one of the central works on the games remains Mommsen's chapter in his "Römische Forschungen", which was published in the 1860s.

September 2nd marked the anniversary of the Battle of Actium in 31 .B.C.E, when the forces of Octavian Caesar routed the forces of Mark Antony and Cleopatra in the Ionian Sea near Actium. Given the amount of space afforded Augustus and the Augustan Age here, I thought it'd only be fitting to mark the official start date of the whole period, for it was from Actium onwards that Octavian, although with some significant hurdles still to leap, was essentially in sole control of Rome, paving the way for all that comes after (including my lengthy rambling posts on the period of his rule!).

Depictions of Actium, naturally, come from a period when the victor was essentially in control of the whole Roman Empire and Augustus was particularly interested in making the arts part of his social overhaul. One of the most famous is from Vergil's Aeneid (Book VIII), which itself is perhaps coloured by the fact that Vergil's patron was non other than the Senate-avoiding Equestrian for life friend of Augustus - Maecenas. In Vergil the battle is almost mythic and certainly far removed from it's status as a Civil War.

Robert Gurval in his book "Actium and Augustus", makes the astute comment that Vergil's Actium is all about securing Actium's legacy to the "beginning of a more glorious future" rather than to the "distant horrors of a tainted past" (both pg.13). Regardless of how it's depicted, the magnitude of the battle and it's outcome can never be understated, not least by the fact that over 2000 years later, we're still remembering the anniversary.

Syme and an "Augustan Party".

The following is a little edited version of an essay I wrote during my masters on the topic of whether or not the term "Augustan Party" is useful when talking about the period of Rome's history when The Divine Augustus (Son of the Divine Julius Caesar!) was Princeps.

The essay title was initially:

“Can we usefully talk about an Augustan Party, and if so, of whom did it consist and why did they support Augustus?”

Although, as was my terrible habit, I didn't necessarily answer the question. I think what comes is best considered a review/brief analysis of Ronald Syme's "The Roman Revolution" and the ideas therein, specifically with reference to an "Augustan Party".

Generally, as with the other old essays posted here, I'm quite happy with it. It contains some phrases that I wouldn't use now, a notion which can be applied to several aspects of it's style (i.e. I wouldn't employ them now) but I'm quite happy with the content, and while I'd perhaps posit something a little different now (Syme did, afterall, publish some follow up works, such as "the Augustan Aristocracy" which showed his views had evolved somewhat), I think it's an OK (if not first rate) essay on an interesting topic.

I do apologise for how lengthy this is. In the event that anyone does read it, I hope it was not too painful.

______________________

In 1939 Ronald Syme released a book entitled “The Roman Revolution”. Unapologetically and somewhat abrasively, he set out to challenge the conviction that the Augustan Age was one of overwhelmingly successful cultural, social and political change, smoothly implemented and controlled. This view, Syme rightfully claims, I think, is “simply panegyric” (Syme, Preface, pg.8) and he then sets out to prove Augustus as despot and tyrant. The impact of Syme’s work cannot be understated, indeed the difficult questions about exactly how Augustan power was manifest have been coloured by his work since its release. One of the specific claims that Syme makes is that there existed an “Augustan Party” that oversaw the successful change from Republic to Principate. Syme dedicates a chapter to the topic, arguing for the existence of such a party on the basis of German scholarship on the prosopography of the period. It’s the aim of this short essay to discuss Syme’s assertion that there was a “Party of Augustus”, to see whether that term is useful or not and if so, to consider whom it consisted of and why they supported Augustus.

Syme begins by saying that the “modest origins” of the Octavian faction are betrayed by its founders name [Syme, pg.349]. Although he’s not too clear at this juncture what exactly he means, the fact that Octavian was provincial in origin comes full circle by the end of the chapter. Nevertheless, Syme is attempting to illustrate that Octavian and his party come from somewhat humble backgrounds, indeed Syme makes mention that prior to his marriage to Livia, only one supporter of his faction comes from a Consular family (Cn. Domitius Calvinus) [Syme, pg.368]. This talk of Octavian’s origin crops up later when Syme attempts to justify his view of latter Augustan policy, and so it’s worth bearing in mind for the time being. Syme moves on to a commentary of the senatorial purges of 28 B.C under the Consulship(s) of Octavian and Agrippa. Syme, quite reasonably, considers this a preparatory move for the coming restoration of the state in early 27. B.C. Dio tells us that some two hundred “undesirables” had retirement firmly suggested to them. [Dio, 52.42.1]. Syme considers it clear, and most modern scholarship agrees, that this purge was very much dealing with the three hundred senators that had sided with Antonius prior to Actium, or at the very least the ones from that group that were unrepentant [Syme, pg.349]. Those left, Syme says, were the “Caesarion partisans and successful renegades” [Syme, pg.350]. He claims they were aware of the true purpose of Augustus’s reforms and the irony therein [Syme, pg.351]. The damage done to the aristocracy was to be healed by the creating of a new one, which Syme goes on to discuss.

One of the central tenets of Syme’s conception of an “Augustan Party” is the new role of the Equestrian order in public affairs. He considers promotion into and above the order to have been made vastly easier during the Augustan age [Syme, pg.352], with the primary justification for such promotions being military service. He illustrates the process by hyperbole when saying “sons of knights, knights themselves and finally Thracian and Illyrian brigands became Emperors of Rome” [Syme, pg.352]. “The Roman Revolution”, Syme contends, “opened up a path of promotion, which the new state perpetuated, for the common soldier” [Syme, pg.353]. He makes mention that it was feasible to be promoted or to gain Equestrian status through finance prior to the Augustan period, but that there was no organised and established dynamic for promotion from Centurion to Equestrian posts [Syme, pg.353]. Syme tells us that promotion to the Equestrian ranks happened in two ways [Syme, pg.354]. Firstly, that a soldier or soldier’s sons earned the rank through military service – he uses an example, from Suetonius’s live of the Divine Vespasian [Sue. Div. Vesp. 1] that illustrates how Vespasian’s grandfather was a Pompeian veteran who had a son that was of Equestrian status, and whose son, in turn, became Emperor. The second mode of promotion was through being a freedman. Augustus was to employ a great deal of freedmen as secretaries, especially in financial duties [Syme, pg.354]. The natural step up from this process was that the “choice flowers” of the Equestrian ranks could be promoted to the senate (Syme, pg.354). Syme thus labels knights as the “cardinal factor in the whole social, military and political structure of the new State” [Syme, pg.355]. Under Augustus, then, Syme considers the Equestrian order somewhat divorced from the murky politics it may have engaged in during the Republic (primarily in tax gathering and the various dishonesties arising from it) and granted it a new “dignity and usefulness” [Syme, pg.355]. For Syme this part-stratification of the Equestrian order under Augustus was manifest in the practice of giving the Latus Clavus (a mark of senatorial birth) to promising young Equestrians (notably among them, although he decided not to pursue such an end, was the poet Ovid). The result was that loyalty and service now allowed the able of humble origin to “ennoble their family for ever” [Syme, pg.359]. Thus this process allowed Augustus to ensure that the senate was filled with “good, opulent men from the colonies and municipia” [Syme, pg.359]. These men, Syme claims, were the “backbone” of the Augustan faction [Syme, pg.359]. This order of promotion and senatorial establishment reverberated into the provinces as it was now possible to truly make something of oneself - an early Roman incarnation of the American Dream, to put it in crude terms. Syme concludes his chapter by going back to the beginning. He asserts that Augustus was no more than “a small town bourgeois, devoted and insatiable in admiration of social distinction” [Syme, pg.368]. The upshot of Syme’s argument here is that Augustus desired to have the old aristocracy support him, but when it was obvious that would not happen like he may have imagined (many of them were dead, many had supported Antonius) he set about re-creating the aristocracy, outsourcing it, so to speak, and developing it into a new body that owed everything to the system he had set in place.

Thus, this was Syme’s conception of an “Augustan Party”. In search of a balances narrative, I’d now like to pass over the question regarding the veracity of Syme’s argument, assume it sound for the time being, and consider the departure question of who was in this party and why did they support Augustus?

The striking point of Syme’s argument is that initially Augustus had few supporters, indeed the “Augustan Party” was a deliberate creation to fill this gap. The period of civil strife prior to the Augustan Age had much depleted the traditional aristocratic talent pool, leaving any Augustan Party rather empty. As mentioned earlier, Syme considers this problem solved by Augustus’s streamlining of promotion into and above the Equestrian class. The rub of this very deliberate act, Syme contends, was to create a new aristocracy, a group of “novis homines” that would have standing in the Empire yet also support Augustus. It’s perhaps a little crude, but Syme’s sentiments can be echoed by saying that the Augustan party initially contained no-one of real note and eventually contained everyone, with “everyone” representing, of course, the elite only. In summation, then, Syme considers the Augustan Party to comprise of the new aristocracy. This new body consisted of senators and equestrians that owed their status to him. The make up of this new aristocracy, and indeed the creation of it, was very much a product of the depleted aristocracy of the late Republic, Syme claims:

“The old families had been decimated by a generation of civil wars: the sons of the slain were found willing to make their peace with the military dynast. Augustus bent all his efforts to attaching these young ‘nobiles’ to his person, to his family and to the new system” [Syme, pg.368].

Syme is typically interested in depicting Augustus as tyrant, but nonetheless I think the make up of the Augustan Party, that Syme advocates, is now somewhat clearer: Able soldiers capable of promotion to equestrian rank; equestrians themselves capable of achieving senatorial rank through loyalty and service and also, interestingly, the new generation of the old aristocracy - now unable to rely on their forebears and instead reliant on Augustus for status, and so the party consisted of, Syme says, “diverse elements, the most ancient Patrician houses and the most recent of careerists” [Syme, pg.368]. Still, it is important to stress that, for Syme, the aristocracy was new, and was an Augustan creation. He did not force the elite to join his party, but rather created a new elite altogether that was inherently Augustan from its very conception. Syme is also at ends to point out that this new aristocracy was able to rely heavily on the provincial elite for its numbers, a fact that he attributes to Augustus as the “small town bourgeois” [Syme, pg.368] orientated towards his own class. The question thus arises of why These men allowed their crafting into an Augustan party - why did they support him? Syme’s answer is a natural continuation from his argument regarding who was in the party. This new created “Augustan Party” owed its aristocratic status to Augustus, he is, as Syme argues in a later chapter, the “master of Patronage” [Syme, pg.369ff]. That, then, was the reason they supported him - he had been the arbiter of their fate and it was thanks to him that their status has been gained. As Syme states:

“The Princeps controlled access to all positions of honour and emolument in the senatorial career, dispensing to his adherents magistracies, priesthoods and provincial commands. The Quaestorship admitted a man to the highest order in state and society, the cons ululate brought nobility and a place in the front ranks of the oligarchy” [Syme, pg.369].

This situation is how Syme articulates the support for the Augustan Party - they supported him because their status and livelihood depended on it. Syme very much emphasises the dynamic of patronage. Augustus assumed the role of patron to the members of his party and so their dependence on him ensured their support. Although on a grandiose scale compared to earlier times, Augustus was the most powerful patron there had ever been and so the patron relationship as an explanation for support for the Augustan Party remains a fruitful one.

In the almost 70 years since the release of “The Roman Revolution” the concept of an “Augustan Party” has rightfully been debated. The scholarly force and abrasiveness of Syme’s account has ensured its legacy, but nonetheless many have taken issue with his arguments for the existence of any kind of “Augustan Party”. These criticisms cover a vast amount of interpretations of Syme’s work from the veracity of prosopography, to the overwhelmingly Tacitean distaste he has of the Principate. Having discussed Syme’s chapter, it’s now my intention to discuss these criticisms and attempt to see whether or not Syme’s term “Augustan Party” remains a useful one.

One of the most interesting criticisms of Syme is that the context he was writing in (the so-called Inter-War period, between the Two World Wars) has very much coloured his account. This is, of course, the nature of any writing, but the distinction here is that the atmosphere of the 1930s is so very overt that it in someway affects his arguments for the existence of an Augustan Party. One of the startling things read into The Roman Revolution is that Syme’s portrayal of Augustus metamorphosis into “gambler and terrorist, into the most exalted father of the fatherland, Augustus Pater Patriae, invoked comparisons with the dictatorships of Mussolini and Franco, Hitler and Stalin” [Galsterer, pp.2-3]. One doesn’t need to look far to find terms associated heavily with that period, either. For example Syme labels Augustus’s rise to power as being based upon “the seizure of power and redistribution of property by the revolutionary leader” [Syme, pg.2]; he constantly refers to Augustus as the “military dynast” or “tyrant”. On the surface, it’s not difficult to see the parallels between the use of these terms and the atmosphere the book was written under. Syme consistently argues for a picture of Augustus as dictator and despot, which very much broke from previous tradition. When one considers why he perhaps places such vast emphasis on Augustus as negative, it is possible that he was being swayed by his understanding of tyranny, dictatorship and despotism in 1930s Europe. The consequences for this, if it is indeed a just criticism, are that his understanding of how the political process worked during the Augustan age is based heavily upon how the same processes worked in 1930s Europe, which at best leaves Syme guilty of anachronism and at worst throws his entire conception of an Augustan Party into jeopardy. For example, it has been argued that Syme eschewed the old methods of historical interpretation (those based on ideology and constitutions) because they had been dominant in the political discourse that followed the First World War, and instead focused on the individual, as increasingly it was the individual that dominated the world stage – Hitler, Stalin etc. [Galsterer, pg.4]. His goal here would be to reconstruct Augustan politics based on the players involved in it.

The shift of emphasis he employed here is not problematic in itself, but if it was a move influenced by the political processes of the 1930s then it becomes problematic. To elaborate: understanding Augustan Politics with a framework used to understand 1930s European politics is to anachronistically apply a method that is detrimental to the veracity of ones understanding. I think it’s easy to sympathise with this criticism. The 1930s was an immensely thick period of ideology and politics in Europe, and elements of it do seem manifest in Syme’s approach to the Augustan period. Nevertheless, use of such a method by Syme does not necessarily preclude it being useful. The shifted emphasis to the individual in Augustan politics that Syme employed has proven widely influential. It has facilitated discussion regarding the Augustan political processes that might not have happened to the same degree otherwise. For example, his contentions have forced serious discussion on how Augustan politics truly worked. As he stated was his intentions, he has provoked discussion and criticism [Syme, preface, pg.9]. Strictly, then, the criticism is valid. Syme does seem to have allowed 1930s politics to have permeated his work, especially in how he conceives of an Augustan party through emphasis on the individual. While the criticism may call his reasoning into question, it leaves his argument standing. His use of modern political processes to understand Augustan ones is a useful exercise, and as such the idea that an Augustan Party existed remains a useful one.

Closely connected is the criticism of prosopography as a discipline. Syme makes his debt to prosopography clear:

“It will at once be evident how much the conception of the nature of Roman politics here expounded owes to the supreme example and guidance of Münzer: but for his work on Republican family-history, this book could hardly have existed” [Syme, preface, pg.8].

Prosopography is the study of individuals in a collective sense that can facilitate historical understanding that would otherwise be hidden. The method is heavily based on the scant evidence we have for individuals, inscriptional and literary, although usually the former. This method features heavily in Syme’s work, and his whole basis for an Augustan Party is argued upon the evidence prosopography provides. Generally speaking, Prosopography is a useful field. It allows one, as it did Syme, to consider a collective group of individuals and perhaps come up with some historical insight. Syme uses prosopography to paint a picture of Augustan politics as large and connected political family – a party, so to speak. Syme’s employment of prosopography allows him to identify the individuals of Augustan politics and to interconnect them, that is to say that he uses prosopographical evidence to establish a Party for Augustus. As Syme says in the opening line of his chapter on the topic:

“The modest origins of the faction of Octavianus stand revealed in the names of its foundation-members: and subsequent accessions have been indicated from time to time. It grew steadily in numbers and in dignity as Caesar’s heir recruited followers and friends from the camps of his adversaries until in the end, by stripping Antonius, it not merely swallowed up the old Caesarian party but secured the adhesion of a large number of Republicans and could masquerade as a national party” [Syme pg.349]

This is a clear statement of how Syme uses prosopography. He analyses the extant evidence of individual careers and ties their achievements into their involvement in an Augustan Party. An example is that Syme conceives the Augustan party to have only one supporter from a consular family before Augustus marries Livia [Syme, pg.368]. The method at work here is somewhat hidden, but Syme has used prosopography to look for links between Augustus and consular families and came to the conclusion that few links existed prior to his marriage. The problems of how Syme incorporates prosopography into his arguments are vast. Firstly, prosopography is a method that can only be as useful as the evidence it utilises. Although we have much inscriptional evidence, there is easily as much that is lost to us. The gaps could indicate conflicting evidence, but that is unknown to us. Furthermore, prosopography is notably divided in veracity along Republican/Imperial lines [Galsterer, pp.10-11]. An example is that we have almost no inscriptional evidence for the career of Marcus Crassus, the Triumvir and large character of the late Republic, prior to his Spanish proconsulship in 72/71 B.C, despite the fact that he likely spent time climbing the cursus honorum prior to that [Galsterer, pg.10]. On the converse, we know every office held by the Senators Iulius Severus and Lollius Urbicus during the 2nd century A.D, despite them being much more minor characters [Galsterer, pg.10]. That the Augustan age falls right on the “crossroads of republican and imperial prosopography” [Galsterer, pp.10-11] presents us with a problem, for the prosopographical evidence could be somewhat lacking in one respect, but present in others. As such, any argument based on the prosopographical evidence we have for the Augustan age would be tainted. Syme’s argument very much loses some veracity owing to this problem, for if the evidence is lacking then his argument will similarly be left wanting.

Related is how Syme interprets the prosopographical evidence. Much has been made of the “mechanical” [Galsterer, pg.11] understanding of the evidence. Galsterer makes the useful point that “if a Fabius had married an Aemilia and was consul together with a Sempronius Gracchus, this should indicate an alliance among the Fabii, Aemilii and Sempronii. Moreover, if, two generations later, a Fabius and a Sempronius Gracchus were once again colleagues, this would indicate that such an alliance had continued through all this time” [Galsterer, pp.10-11]. Galsterer admits that this may be an overstatement, but I think the rhetorical force of his objection remains quite strong. The lateral way that Syme interprets the prosopography that allows him to conjecture for the existence of an Augustan party is questionable. The work of Christian Meier, “Res Publica Amissa” specifically, has further rejected the idea of straight links between individuals, for Roman politics is far too complex for such alliances, and indeed the factional theory altogether, to endure. An offshoot of this is that Syme overlooks individual agency in order to see the “mechanical” prosopographical links, when indeed the role of the individual and their personal aims and political alliances was surely important in following Augustus. Furthermore, another fault of the prosopographical approach is that it is very much elite oriented. The nature of the evidence it uses – inscriptional – means that other elements of society are excluded because they are not the subject of inscription. On this occasion one of the most obvious omissions is the rank and file of the army. The fact that much of Augustus’s power was military based – and Syme stresses his role as military dictator – makes the omission of the army rank and file as a central element of any Augustan Party somewhat suspicious. Syme does make mention of the army in how he conceives of promotion through the Equestrian class, but that emphasis lies on how such promotion develops a new aristocracy – the army in general is very much left out in “”The Roman revolution”. Syme has remedied this to an extent is more recent work, the “Danubian Papers” specifically, but how the army fits into the conception of an Augustan Party is still not clear.

The criticism of Syme’s use of prosopography is quite convincing, I feel. The problems presented by limited evidence and questionable methods of interpreting that evidence leave Syme’s idea of an Augustan Party quite damaged. That prosopography, as he admits himself, underpins his entire argument means that any weakness in it necessarily means a weakness in his argument itself. In light of this, it would seem that the term “Augustan Party” is somewhat misleading, and not especially useful for really describing Augustan Politics.

Related, again, is the overwhelmingly Republican character of the work. Syme admits himself that Tacitus, Pollio and Sallust are his main literary sources and inspirations, all of them “Republican in sentiment” [Syme preface, pg.7]. The Tacitean quality of the work has been recognized by many. Michael Comber, for example, called Syme and Tacitus the “two great Roman historians” [Comber, pg.214] in an article on the topic. The problem that this presents is that Syme is liable to fall into the same limitations and overt prejudices of those historians, Tacitus especially. As the most Republican of men, Tacitus was very distasteful of the entire Principate, Tiberius most notably. His lack of zeal of the Augustan Age also shone through in the opening parts of his “Annals”, as he briefly describes Rome being subjugated by the first Emperor. The negative focus on Augustus, and the Tacitean method more generally, that Syme readily adopts has some consequences for his argumentation. Syme would have us believe that Augustus created for himself such massive prestige in the lamentable absorption of every available power that the only available career path for the aristocracy was under his aegis. It was through the necessity of his support that the Augustan Party developed. Tacitus found this situation incredibly saddening. A familiar vein running through his works, from the Annals to the Agricola and the Dialogus is that the men of the Republic could be great owing to their skills and talents, which they received great acclaim for. All great men under the Principate were subservient to the greatest man – the Emperor. The Tacitean, and consequently Republican, character of Syme’s work presents a quandary. It obviously creates a very strong bias, but that hardly makes Syme’s theories less powerful, no more than they do that of Tacitus. Rather, I think, they present the historian with something to keep in mind while reading Syme. He wanted his work to truly jostle the established order, and the abrasive qualities of his writing often have one questioning how bias he truly is, yet the quality of his work still shines through these possible indiscretions. The criticism of his work having a Republican bent, much like the criticism that the 1930s permeated much of it, is very much something to be aware of, but ultimately leave the edifice of his theory still standing. The usefulness of the term “Augustan Party” is somewhat affected, to its detriment, by this fact, for it now holds within it not just the influence of the 1930s political process, the problems of prosopography but now also the possible Republican bias inherent in conceiving of its existence.

Assessing whether or not Syme’s use of the term “Augustan Party” is useful is notoriously difficult. The sheer impact of Syme’s work on the topic has lead to his being called “The Emperor of Roman History” [Bowerstock, pp.8-13]. The term can be misleading. For example, using the term “party” seems to be being used somewhat anachronistically, for it relies somewhat on an understanding of more modern political processes. Syme’s characterisation also suffers the same criticism for it seems very much informed by the ferment of 1930s Europe, where Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini dominated the stage. As a consequence, Syme is unapologetically Republican in sentiment, using Tacitus very much as a base and such bias in his assumptions makes one question them. Furthermore, the serious problems that his reliance on prosopography presents are difficult to overcome. The nature of the method as being based on very limited evidence, in scope and possibly number, and also the “mechanical” interpretations that reading prosopography laterally provides have called Syme’s reliance on it into question. These criticisms are quite strong, and as such they make Syme’s conception of an Augustan Party quite weak. In this sense the use of the term “Augustan Party” is certainly not useful, for they make understanding Augustan politics even more difficult than they may be initially. In some respects, though, Syme’s use of the term has been resolutely useful. Much of this reasoning lies in the fact that Syme’s work has been so influential that even in parts where he errs, the sheer fact that he unapologetically posited a theory on the topic has forced the hand of historians ever since to truly think about Augustan politics. It’s been remarked that:

“a classic work is a classic precisely because of its lasting value and its ability to offer at least partial answers to questions that one would not originally foresee” [Galsterer, pg.2].

That sentiment seems very apt when applied to Syme’s work. It’s a testament to how important, and indeed how useful, his use of the term “Augustan Party” is when discussion over it is being set as an essay – almost some seventy years since the book was initially released in 1939. In this respect, then, it’s very easy to consider the “Augustan Party” a useful term, for it has spurned discussion over the intricacies of Augustan politics no end. In concluding, then, it seems that the answer is, as with all elements of Augustan Rome, not entirely simple. In some aspects the term is not useful at all, and indeed is quite misleading, however in another it is vastly useful, stimulating fervent discussion. Thus, the only conclusion I can come to in reference to the departure question is that it’s a little useful and a little misleading, and in some ways that dichotomy altogether renders itself quite useful in the scope of Roman historiography.

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Bibliography:

Ancient:

Cassius Dio, “Roman History”

Suetonius, “Life of Vespasian” in his "Lives of the Caesars"

Modern:

Bowerstock, G, “The Emperor of Roman History”, New York Review of Books (1980) pp.8-13

Comber, M, a review of Luce, T.J and Woodman, A.J, “Tacitus and Tacitean tradition”, Journal of Roman Studies (1996) pp.214-215

Galsterer, H, “Syme’s Roman Revolution after 50 years”, in “Between Republic and Empire”, Ed. Raaflaub, K.A and Toher, M, Oxford (1990)

Syme, Ronald, “The Roman Revolution”, Oxford (1939)

Syme, Ronald, “Danubian Papers”, Bucharest (1971)

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On another note, I'm currently reading some work on Classical Athens and the role of the "bad citizen", which I'll post about soon, I hope.

Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, Where Art Thou?

I've recently been watching the HBO/BBC TV series ROME (perhaps for the 6th or 7th time, I must admit), and as I mentioned in my "future plans" post, I intended to discuss the portrayal of Marcus Agrippa and how he differs from the historical Agrippa. Therefore, that is the topic I will discuss today.

I should preface this by saying I very much like Rome. I think it's a well written show, with excellent acting, dialogue and set design. Generally the departure from historical fact does not bother me whatsoever, as I can understand why it's done. One such exception is with the character of Agrippa (played by the Irish actor Allen Leech). My plan here is to list the differences between the character in the TV show and the historical Agrippa (as much as one exists), and then discuss why the writers chose to depict Agrippa as they did.

SO...the differences! There are a great number. First of all, let's consider Agrippa's family. In the TV show both Agrippa and Octavian make mention of his "low plebeian" status. It is conjectured (realistically, I believe) that Agrippa's father was a certain Lucius Vipsanius Agrippa, and that they were a family of Equestrian rank.

There is a rather strong focus on Agrippa's low status, as it's used on several occasions to drive forward the narrative. My personal feelings are that it's overemphasised, in order to support the characterisation of Agrippa as a "loyal Lieutenant" and not much else. Plebeian he may be, but he was to ascend to the highest ranks of Roman public life, and he was after all, of sufficient birth to be educated alongside Octavian (which is how they became friends).

Further to this, there is no mention of Agrippa's marriage to Caecilia Pomponia Attica (daughter of Cicero's friend, Atticus) in the early 30s (very much in the shows timeline), and as an offshoot of this there is, of course, no mention of their child born soon after the wedding (Vipsania Agrippina). In the show Agrippa is very much unmarried throughout.

Somewhat related is an affair, depicted in the TV show, between Agrippa and Octavian's sister, Octavia. This is entirely fictional, and serves only as a dramatic device in the show. Although the love affair is finished by Agrippa after Octavian finds out (an example of his being the ultimate Loyal Lieutenant), there are hints that their feelings continue throughout the 30s B.C.E, and again there is no single mention of that fact that the historical Agrippa was both married and a father.

On the topic of his public life, the show, again, fails to mention almost anything. He remains the loyal lieutenant of Octavian, but seems to hold no public office himself. The historical Agrippa entered the Senate as a Tribune of the Plebs (perhaps 43.B.C.E), and served both as Consul (37.B.C.E) and Aedile (33.B.C.E) during the timeline represented by the show, but he is not shown to explicitly hold any of these offices.

On the topic of his character and his abilities, again the character of the TV show differs greatly from the historical Agrippa. It's a well documented fact that Agrippa was an excellent General, and it was through his leadership that Octavian and his armies could establish sole control over Rome. At Mutina, and more specifically Actium, it is Agrippa's military genius that won the day. In the show, he is seen briefly at Mutina, and he's nowhere near Actium (the only mention of him is by a newsreader in Rome reporting the battle).

Agrippa as a great General is barely seen in the TV show, and one must ponder why (more on this later). A few fleeting mentions to his celebrated military talents are all he gets.

The difference in character is perhaps the most striking thing of all, however. The historical Agrippa, through virtue of his accomplishments, was a commanding General, respected and forceful magistrate and strong leader. The Agrippa on the TV show, is rather meek, somewhat bumbling, a little insecure and nothing more than a loyal servant of Octavian. It's also difficult to escape the notion that he's also a little "boyish", in both manner and appearance.

On the topic of the later, Allen Leech does not strike the same robust figure that the busts of Agrippa suggest that he was. While this is not necessarily a hindrance (James Purefoy is not the bull-like man Antony is said to have been, but he plays the role superbly), in combination with the meekness of the portrayal, it's hard to ever believe that the character is Agrippa.

Given the legion of differences, I now ask the question: why?

The matter of Agrippa's family is perhaps the easiest to answer. The series omits many historical figures for the sake of simplicity and smoothness of narrative (Crassus, although dead when the series begins, is never mentioned, Octavia's husband Claudius Marcellus, and their three children, are never never seen, Brutus' wives are never seen - Claudia Pulchra, nor Porcia Catonis, and these are just some of the many historical figures not in the show).

Given the immense complexity of Roman families, allegiances, marriages and so on, it's quite reasonable to expect, for the sake of a cohesive story, that many of them will never appear. Agrippa's family is never mentioned primarily because they were considered "extra". They do not serve the storyline and would therefore just confuse matters, and so they were omitted.

The affair with Octavia was invented for similar reasons, I think. This time is does serve the story (it's dramatic and when Octavian finds out it helps give him leverage in forcing Mark Antony to leave Rome, for Octavia was his wife and she was cheating on him with a "low born Pleb").

As regards Agrippa's public career, his offices are never mentioned for a few reasons. The foremost is that Agrippa plays the role of Lieutenant, and in most cases he's simply an advisor to Octavian, in that respect the character needs no office of his own, for he's not the focus. In most ways it doesn't matter what office Agrippa holds, for his role in the TV show remains the same.

Further to this, is that the second season (the timeline when Agrippa would hold the offices of Tribune of the Plebs, Consul and Aedile) plays thick and fast with history - the many events of the early 30s and squashed or skimmed over somewhat, and so Agrippa's consulship and activities of this time are given short thrift.

The character's lack of great military abilities can also be partly explained in this way. Many of Agrippa's achievements are not mentioned in the show - it basically goes from Caesar's murder, through Philippi and then jumps very much to the later 30s and the struggle between Octavian and Antony near it's conclusion. Agrippa's defeat of Sextus Pompeius in the seas around Italy, as well as his time fighting the Germanic tribes while Governor of Transalpine Gaul are never mentioned - and so there is no opportunity to focus on his military acumen, other than brief mentions after Mutina and Actium (which are relegated from importance because the series cares more for Octavian/Antony and their power struggle than what the "Loyal Lieutenant" Agrippa is up to.

Related to this is why he's depicted as a somewhat meek and bumbling character. Without need for focus on his military achievements, but unable to really remove him from the picture, what role can Agrippa really play? The only answer is really that of advisor, and so immediately he's relegated from the status of the historical Agrippa. Again, though, why so meek? I have a few ideas, but it's still not especially obvious.

Perhaps most obviously, he plays a lover to Octavia, and his bumbling "I would tear down the skies if you asked me to" act allows a certain amount of sympathy to be felt for him, and as a consequence the love affair. He is acutely aware of his lower status throughout the relationship, and this is brought to the fore when it's used to coerce Mark Antony into leaving Rome. In essence, he plays a character who knows his social position and has no ideas beyond his station.

Another idea I've considered is that the character was designed to play foil to Gaius Maecenas, as they both advise Octavian (Maecenas being the darker, more inclined to lies style of advisor and Agrippa the excessively loyal and honest type). I'm not sure how much mileage this idea has, but I think it's valid enough.

After discussing it with my girlfriend a little, she made the interesting observation that Agrippa is required to fill the role as the only "purely nice and honest" character in the show. This may be a case when the most obvious solution is the best one, and as a mode for explaining the very different Agrippa it works very well.

Overall, I think his meekness is a result of his role in the show (a fiercely loyal and honest Lieutenant, not equal to Octavian) and the need for him to be a sympathetic character in both his love for Octavia (a women well above his social status, and he knows it) and his contrast to the more nefariously depicted Maecenas as advisor(s) to Octavian.

It's worth at this point conceding that the creator of the show (Bruno Heller) never intended the show to be 100% historically accurate, but that the aim was to show:

"Much more about how the psychology of the characters affects history rather than simply following the history as we know it".

In this respect, Agrippa is merely a facet of this. He is changed so considerably so that the character's psychology may fit the requirements of the narrative. To me, the change is so drastic, and it's perhaps simply a result of there being too many other psychologies driving the show forward, and so Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa was changed so that his could fit in somewhere.

The show's historical advisor, Johnathan Stamp, adds that the series was more about "authenticity" than "accuracy", but I think in the case of Agrippa especially neither category is fulfilled. The character is definitely not an accurate portrayal of the historical Agrippa, but accuracy has not been sacrificed and authenticity retained, for there is nothing authentic about the character of Agrippa in the show - he's almost pure creation.

I should say that I'm not altogether annoyed by the character of Agrippa in the show (historical accuracy does not always need to be the primary aim of such shows), but simply that I find the vast difference between the character and the historical figure to be curious, and so I was interested in exploring those differences and the reasons for them. In actual fact, I rather like Allen Leech as an actor, and the role of the "new" Agrippa is actually rather likeable in most ways.

I also think it's wise to realise that this small analysis is tainted by the notion that it's impossible to know the "real" Agrippa anyway, and that perhaps commenting on his character is a false enterprise from the off. Nevertheless, I think the historical Agrippa we can infer, grasp or leap at is so substantially different form the character of the TV show, that this endeavour remains thoroughly worth it.

In summing up, I think all I can say is that the driving force behind writing this article was the feeling that the character Agrippa is just not Agrippa. One conjures an image of all classical figures that is quite unique (the Caesar in my mind may be different from the one in in yours, and this in turn is hugely important in the "reception" of historical figures), and so my Agrippa, based on my studies of him and the period more generally, mixed with my own imagination, leads me to believe nothing but the conclusion that "this" Agrippa is an imposter.

Today is the anniversary of...

Augustus's death. He died on August 19th 14.C.E, at the age of 76 (he was born in 63.B.C.E - Cicero's year as Consul) and by the time of his death had effectively been sole ruler for almost 45 years (beginning after the Battle of Actium in 31.B.C.E, although often his rule is dated from 27.B.C.E, when he was given the title of Augustus and he proclaimed the Res publica restored).

Although it had been coming for quite some time (Tiberius had been effectively sharing his powers, but not his auctoritas for a while), it was still an immense shock to a society and city that had been crafted (nay completely overhauled) in the first Princeps' image.

Augustus himself had been visiting Nola, place of his fathers death, when he died - Suetonius even has it that he died in the same room. Tiberius and Livia were both present and the latter proclaimed Emperor. Suetonius tells us that among Augustus' last words he said:

"If I have played my part well, clap your hands, and dismiss me with applause from the stage"

and with his freshly combed hair (also from Suetonius) he reminded Livia to stay true to their marriage and he peacefully died. It's unknown whether he was applauded off the stage, so to speak, but it's almost certain that, with hindsight, one can say Augustus did indeed play his role of Emperor well.

The Pax Romana that he had initiated, lasted over 200 years after his death, and through his remoulding of the Roman state in his image he had transcended the role of a normal mortal man - embodied in his ascension to the Roman pantheon just immediately after his death (again from Suetonius).

Christian Meier claims in his biography of Caesar claims Augustus had to be an actor, as his aims could never have been achieved unless he could be many things to many people. I happen to agree. It's partly because of this that it's truly difficult to know the real Augustus (as far as one exists).

It's difficult to overstate the impact of Augustus on the Roman state and it's subsequent history and so Requiscat in Pace.

Some thoughts on David Shotter's "Tiberius Caesar".

As part of my effort to look at some slightly later periods of Roman history, I recently managed to find and read David Shotter's "Tiberius Caesar", which I found to be quite interesting, and owing to it's brevity, I managed to read it fully over just two sessions.

Shotter's short monograph (the main body of the work constitutes just 80 pages) on the Principate of Tiberius functions as a welcome and useful introduction to the man and his reign. The work is, of course, not meant to be all encompassing, but rather function as a starting point on any study of Tiberius. In that respect the work joins the ever increasing volume of monographs written by respected scholars that is both short enough and simplified enough to appeal to the general reader.

The work is separated into easy digestible chunks, covering Tiberus' early life, his accession to the role of Emperor, his relations to his contemporaries (the senate and Sejanus specifically), his administration and policies and finally his retirement and death. Treating the life of Tiberius under these headings (as opposed to studying his character outright) is, to my mind, the best way to try and understand the man and his reign, without becoming bogged down in gossip or exaggeration.

The analysis therein is generally of a high standard. Shotter's aim is to try and see behind the cruel and sadistic caricature that Tiberius is often portrayed as. Nevertheless, Shotter makes it abundantly clear throughout that Tiberius was somewhat of an awkward man, and the resulting depictions of him and his reign are an offshoot of the fact that he was misunderstood and not trusted by his contemporaries.

The illustrations are generally useful, although not referred to at all often. The images of coinage are fascinating, even if they feel a little tacked on. The stemma showing Tiberius' relations to the aristocracy is highly interesting, and the stemma of the Imperial family similarly so. Maps of both Italy and the Empire in 14 A.D are useful, although the former is clogged with cities never mentioned in the book and would benefit from a little simplification (Capri is discussed when the map is printed, although it's hard to find because of a plethora of towns around it).

The introductory sections are well written, and indicate the difficulty of pinning down Tiberius, as well as highlighting the topics that will be discussed later in the book. One bone of contention is when Shotter mentions the "inevitability" of the Republic's "disintegration" during his scene setting preamble (pg.7). Whether this is true or not is certainly up for debate, although Shotter doesn't mention it. I'm still to read his work on the end of the Republic, and so I will reserve judgement until I read that work and see if Shotter outlines his position more fully.

Shotter makes it clear from the offset that Tiberius was an odd character, especially in comparison to his predecessor, Augustus. He sets the scene for Tiberius' Principate well, indicating the early events that point towards his character (his forced divorce from his family, which he adored, and his reactions being such an example). Interestingly, Shotter also employs some modern psychology (pg.12) which is both welcome and interesting.

Coming out of the introductory sections Shotter makes one very much aware that Tiberius was a very private character, and while not "evil" as he is often painted, he certainly lacked a certain tact in his dealings with his contemporaries. Shotter uses examples to illustrate this, taking Tiberius's inability to hide his ultimate power in both a debate on rowdiness in the theatre and also sitting in court (pg. 30+31).

Shotter does well here to show the "square peg, round hole" nature of Tiberius in Augustan Rome, and not only the reluctance of Augustus to select him as a successor, but also the reluctant acceptance of it by Tiberius himself. All the while, Shotter manages to keep the readers conception of Tiberius away from the popularly slanderous ones, which is admirable.

One of the main focus' of the monograph is on the workings of the Imperial family, and especially the increasing factionalisation of it. This is evident in the fact that Shotter has two chapters named "Tiberius and the family of Germanicus" and "Sejanus" respectively. In the former Shotter makes much of the tension between the Claudian elements of the family (Tiberius himself, as well has his mother and Augustus' widow, Livia) and the Julian ones (Germanicus and his family). The discussion is light but fruitful, and serves to highlight the family politics of the period which Tiberius sincerely disliked.

The Sejanus chapter continues this discussion insomuch as it shows how Sejanus played Tiberius against Germanicus and his wife, Agrippina (especially the later), and how the increasingly factional nature of the Imperial family played into Sejanus' hands. Again the discussion is light, but very useful in understanding Tiberius and his role.

Shotter, by this point, has made his readers quite aware that Tiberius, if a little bumbling in his relationships, private and political, is not the deviant he is oft depicted as. Much effort is made by shotter to see behind the "dark hand" of Tiberius (pg.44) and that is a thoroughly worthy element of the work. On that topic, the later sections of the book, which correspond to Tiberius' later life, are refreshing.

Shotter pays little heed to rumours of sexual deviancy, rather he points out the relative modesty of the villa on Capri and mentions only once the skin condition that Tiberius exhibited in this period, and concluding that it was going around at the time, and not specific to Tiberius (pg.67). This is emblematic of Shotter's whole approach, as Tiberius skin condition and tales of it are intricately related to the stories of his perversions and maliciousness while in retirement.

The conclusions of the work are, in my opinion, decidedly fair. Shotter depicts Tiberius as a slightly tragic figure, one undeserving of how he is usually conceived. Shotter prefers to focus on Tiberius as an excellent administrator, a reluctant Princeps and someone who was ultimately uncomfortable in Augustan Rome, the two latter of which contributed significantly to how his Principate is conventionally understood to be negative.

Ultimately, Shotter calls Tiberius' reign a "stepping stone" (pg.80), that illustrated that Augustan policy could continue after Augustus and that essentially Augustan Rome could be Augustusless and still function. Arguably Tiberius unwittingly set the tone for the reigns of the later Julio-Claudians through his inability to hide his powers, but Shotter makes much effort to show that this was not from any active malevolence on Tiberius' part, but just his lack of tact. I agree with Shotter when he considers Tiberius' rule to both symbolise the continuation of Augustan Rome, but also it's inevitable consequences.

Like most of these such works, the book contains no referencing, but has a useful, if short, bibliography with recommended further reading. It also has a useful glossary of Latin terms, although the book itself is especially light on using them. Two useful sections are also tacked on at the end. One is a discussion of the primary sources for Tiberius' life and the other a brief discussion on numismatics.

The latter is short but interesting (it ties in nicely with the illustrations throughout the work, usually at the end of chapters, of coinage from Tiberius' reign) while the former is essential reading. Shotter summarises the inherent problems with Valleius Paterculus, Cassius Dio and Suetonius quite well, but it is in his short discussion of Tactitus that some excellent material can be found, which is perhaps expected considering Shotter's other extensive work on Tactitus.

I believe Shotter depicts Tiberius as the quintessential "Tacitean" Emperor. Tacitus was a senator with very strong Republican sentiments and so Tiberius' depiction in Tacitus' "Annals" is quite negative, but not excessively so. Tacitus exerts much energy showing how Tiberius had a terrible relationship with the senate, and in this respect Tiberius is the worst "Tacitean" Emperor - for he lacks the tact to deal with the senate effectively, and as a result his autocratic power is shown in the worst possible light. Tacitus longed for the Republic when the senate was so vital, and in Tiberius inability to deal with it correctly, he illustrated it's essential pointlessness under the Principate, and so Tacitus could do nothing but depict Tiberius negatively.

Admittedly, some of these thoughts are my own, but they are derived from Shotter's highly interesting discussion of Tacitus as a source.

Shotter's work is an interesting and thoughtful introduction to Tiberius. He admirably avoids the caricature, and rather seeks to understand the real Tiberius, who was altogether a rather more tragic and uncomfortable figure. One retains an overwhelming feeling of Tiberius' awkwardness, but also as a sense of sympathy for the man and his situation. Generally then, Shotter has given us a fair appraisal, and as much a taste of Tiberius' reign as such a short introduction can allow.

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Relevant bibliography: Shotter, D, "Tiberius Caesar", Routledge (2004)

Some brief further thoughts on Lucan.

It occurred to me this past week, after my previous post, that Lucan was extraordinary in one way (many, actually, but this post is related to just the one) - he died extremely young (age 25 - 39-65 C.E - as a result of the Pisonian Conspiracy against Nero).

This means, in contrast to most of our other extant classical authors (Cicero, Caesar and Vergil, among many others), that he wrote such a mature work, The Pharsalia, as such a young man. Vergil composed the Aeneid in his later life, most of Cicero's great writing comes from his later years, and the same with Caesar (indeed some of his youthful compositions were suppressed by Augustus). That Lucan composed the Pharsalia before his 25th year was a remarkable achievement.

This is furthered when one realises the possibility that the work may have been published in parts, and thus begun that publication well before Lucan's 25th birthday. In this respect Lucan really is unique in the classical corpus.

Typically, writing was the concern of older senators with time on their hands or political ends in mind, which may explain why our extant work usually comes from writers in their "golden" age and not when they are much younger.

Back to Lucan, there is, of course, the question of whether, had he lived, would he have produced a "greater" work (or works) that would have eclipsed the Pharsalia, and as a result reduced the status of the latter to a more immature work. That said, the Pharsalia is a wonderful piece of poetry, and regardless of the work an older Lucan may have produced, but never could, it still stands high among the extant works for content and style, perhaps moreso for the fact that it was completed not by a Cicero, Caesar or Vergil at the height of his powers, but by a young man who had many years of artistic development ahead of him.

Roman Holiday.

As mentioned below, I recently was in Rome on holiday. I've visited many times before, and so I had only some small goals with regards to visiting historical sites. In actual fact I spent most of the holiday showing my girlfriend around (her first visit) and sometimes forcing upon her visits to places of historical interest.

This post is on that particular topic. In an attempt to stay thematically related to some of my older posts, this one is to be about Augustus. When in Rome I visited both the Ara Pacis and the Mausoleum, of which the latter I would like to speak about.

Although the Mausoleum is closed and regrettably hidden by construction barriers around it's full circumference, it's possible to find a few vantage points that can afford one the pleasure of seeing it. The building is in a rather unfortunate state, and while it should really be one of the central attractions in the city, it's actually rather forgotten. Nevertheless, I enjoyed seeing it anyway.

I derived particular pleasure from the fact that one can still see the holes near the main entrance that were originally used to mount the Res Gestae upon the mausoleum. Given the importance of this document, being able to see these holes gives one the ability to imagine the majesty of the mausoleum as it was after Augustus' death, and despite the general decay of the entire structure, that makes the visit worth every second. I have attached two pictures of the mausoleum to this post, one taken from from afar (it's as close as one can get these days) and another taken, using some considerable amount of sneaking about, showing a close up of the holes used to mount the Res Gestae. (Clicking on the pictures will make them full size).



Almost directly beside the mausoleum is the Ara Pacis Augustae (the Altar of Augustan Peace), which houses that very important and interesting piece of sculpture. What I found particularly interesting, though, was the building designed by Richard Meier to house it. Unexpectedly, I found that on one side of the building (appropriately the one facing the mausoleum) is the entire Res Gestae engraved elegantly on a single wall. Needless to say I was delighted to see it, and proceeded to take pictures for my own enjoyment/records and to post them here for those interested.

Given the importance of the Res Gestae as a historical document, I was very happy to see it, in it's entirety, somewhere in Rome, especially so given it's location. Sadly it's almost entirely overlooked (visited less than the Ara Pacis, which is usually quiet, and quiet enough for people to come here for peaceful lunch, as one of my pictures demonstrates), but that nevertheless allowed me some peaceful time to study the engraving and take these pictures.




Clicking on the pictures will render them larger, and ergo make the Res Gestae entirely readable, for those with some Latin. Failing that, I recommend, in book form, the P.G Brunt and J.M Moore translation, and if that is impossible the Thomas Bushnell version available online here. Having the English versions in companion with my pictures of the Latin text should make it very readable.

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Permissions and relevant bibliography:

Bushnell, Thomas, "Res Gestae" available at the Internet Classics Archive. (Copyright 1998, Thomas Bushnell, BSG. This translation may be freely distributed, provided the copyright notice and this permission notice are retained on all copies.).

Brunt, P.G and Moore, J.M, "Res Gestae Divi Augusti: The Achievements of the Divine Augustus", OUP (1967).

Augustus' Social Legislation: a case study.

The following small case study on Augustus' social legislation was prepared by me several years ago to be presented in a Masters tutorial class. I have edited it only very slightly, and so the text seen here represents, essentially, the presentation as it originally was. Generally speaking, I still like the small commentary, and I think the views therein, while hardly controversial, are quite correct. Tasked to overhaul it entirely, I may write it somewhat differently, but generally I'm quite happy with it even in this form.

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The social legislation of Augustus is one of the defining characteristics of his reign, although it is problematic in many respects. There has been a tendency in the sources and in scholarship to glaze over the entire Augustan period as having a cohesive and systematically planned objective. Zanker, for example, speaks of a “goal orientated cultural program” enacted by Augustus throughout his reign. Ostensibly, it would seem, that the purpose of this program was to heal Rome from the wounds of civil war and strife.

The aim, according to this view, is to regain the pietas of a bygone age (albeit perhaps an idealised and imagined one) – the age where Romans were real men, their women loyal and their masculine domination of Rome’s neighbours rigid and complete. The consensus was that Rome had become decadent and immoral (a view espoused by moralising writers such as Livy and Sallust) and that it was this immorality – of which adultery and debased sexuality were a feature – that had caused the gods to abandon their favoured city of Rome and allow her to almost destroy herself.

The Augustan answer to this problem was in 18 and 17 B.C.E (followed later by a revision in 9 C.E) to enact legislation making adultery a public offence, and through a system of punishment and reward to induce higher birth rates and suitable marriage among the desirable peoples of Rome. Narrowly these laws are referred to as the Lex Julia or the Julian laws.

The ancient sources for this legislation are somewhat hazy. Suetonius mentions Augustus’s revision of old laws or enactments of new ones on “extravagance, adultery, chastity, bribery and on the encouragement of marriage among the various classes”, but he doesn’t really go into the specifics, preferring, instead, to paint Augustus’s seriousness on these matters by not conceding to complaining Romans in the theatre about the strictness of these laws.

In fact Suetonius has Augustus bring out Germanicus (his grandson, through the marriage of Agrippa and his daughter Julia) and his family as an exemplar, seemingly saying nothing other than epigrammatically sitting with the children on his lap (thus using the young man as a example for all to follow). The only specific Suetonius does mention is that, a revolt upon some of the law’s provisions resulted in increased rewards for childbirth and the allowing of a three year exemption on the obligation to marry following the death of a husband or wife.

That these laws were challenged in some form attests to the difficulty in glazing over the Augustan period as one in where Augustus systematically introduced planned reform across the entire social and public strata(s) to great applause and uniform acceptance.

Some more specifics for these laws can be garnered in the Digest of Paul (as part of a greater compendium of Roman law ordered by Justinian in the 6th century). One of the main aims of these laws was to punish the extramarital affairs of women. A father (a legal paterfamilias- Head of the family) was now allowed to murder his married daughter and her lover, if caught in his house or his son-in-laws committing adultery. Although he must kill both, for if only one was killed then he may be tried for murder.

The law also stipulated that a husband could not kill his wife if he found her committing adultery, but he could kill the lover without repercussions, but only if he was a criminal, actor, prostitute, slave and perhaps if he was a freedman. Furthermore, where he could kill the lover he was also allowed to injure him. If the lover was killed the husband had to divorce his wife within three days and instigate adultery charges against her. If he didn’t then he could be charged himself (it’s all rather complicated). Nevertheless, essentially adultery became a public offence, and was no longer to be dealt with privately, as such permanent law courts were set up to deal with it.

Moreover, the legislation also covered who could marry whom. The essential thrust of this legislation was to prohibit senators and up to their 3rd generation descendants marrying ex-slaves.

Another facet of the laws would seem to paint them as reactionary to the increasing immorality and influence of women. Sempronia in Sallust and Clodia in Cicero, for example, highlighted the growing promiscuity of women. Indeed the moralising here understands these women as immoral and to be acting utterly outside the correct parameters for female behaviour. Although this leads to an extensive debate on gender tensions, for the sake of this small commentary it is enough to highlight the notion that the legislation can also be read as – at least partly – reactionary to the antics of women in the recent past (the past which the laws set out to fix).

Overwhelmingly these various pieces of social legislation seem to form a cohesive policy. The stimulation of marriage and reproduction between desirable Romans and the continued chastity and security of the unions there built seems to be its aim. It’s perhaps a little dangerous to buy into that picture wholesale, though. Our knowledge of the laws is scattered, and the fact that they encountered resistance points towards the idea that implementing them was not a smooth process (indeed that a revision was required in A.D 9 also suggests this).

I think any attempt to understand the laws needs to understand the context surrounding their enactment. The idealised view is of a streamlined cultural policy enacted by Augustus as part of his greater reorganisation of the Roman state into a monarchy. The reality, I think, is a great deal muddier.

For example, the bringing back of traditional Roman pietas which in the Res Gestae Augustus tells us he instigated (8.5) by the restoration of the practices of their ancestors and the idea that Rome was born again after her dissent into moral debasement - espoused in Horace’s Carmen Saeculare, for example, where he speaks of Rome being reborn and the return of faith, peace and ancient modesty, even asking the Gods to help bring to fruition the new laws on marriage and birth – is often accepted as an imagined fiction. Analogously, even today people imagine the past as a bastion of moral excellence, and the same mechanism drove the Romans to be forever imagining their stern and masculine forebears that honoured the gods and brought many peoples under their dominion even if they may never have genuinely existed.

Even if the enactors of the laws and those affected by it believed this moral revolution tale, I think it still highlights a problem for us in fitting the legislation smoothly into the Augustan period.

Augustus’s apparent seriousness over the laws is well attested, the example Suetonius relates about the family of Germanicus in the theatre being one such example. Suetonius also tells us (89) that Augustus read a speech to the senate by a Censor called Metellus from 131.B.C about increasing the birth-rate “as if it had just been written” (the links between the past and the Augustan period in relation to social policies being highlighted). Furthermore, Tacitus tells us (3.24) that Augustus exiled his own daughter Julia (his only natural child) for breaking the adultery laws, and Tacitus also seems to feel that Augustus was perhaps overly harsh in his treatment – which could indicate just how seriously he took the laws and their enforcement.

Nevertheless, the idea that Augustus was coerced in some ways to enact these laws is also prevalent in some sources. Cassius Dio (54.16.3) suggests that Augustus only instituted the legislation under pressure from the senate and Ronald Syme (Roman Revolution, pg 453) posits the idea that the provincial elites were putting pressure on him also. These ideas conflict with the notion of Augustus being in complete charge of implementing a policy of social change and suggest that perhaps the “Augustan Party” that Syme speaks of played a larger role in seeing the laws come to fruition.

Suetonius (69) even suggests that Augustus was an adulterer, which again sets the smooth conception and enforcement of a homogeneous social policy against a rather more complex and greyer background. That he was seemingly exempt from the laws himself (he only had one daughter – Julia), highlights not only the difficulty in understanding the laws, but also the nature of Augustus’ rule – he was above everyone else – the rules, even his own ones, did not apply to him. This idea is powerfully argued by Werner Eck in the work reviewed below.

Further to these difficulties, Tacitus sees the laws as somewhat sinister (Annals. 3.28) mentioning the “tightening of the shackles”. Although Tacitus is a notorious sympathiser for the Republic, the idea he highlights about the legislation being perhaps too oppressive is reflected in Suetonius’s mention of “open revolt” and the subsequent revision of the 18/17 B.C laws in AD.9.

Overall, the social legislation of Augustus is problematic. It doesn’t quite fit into the period as easily as first understood. It is rather a mix of reactions to the period directly before Augustus secured sole rule and a mode to fix (what it believes) are the problems that caused the Civil Wars. I think they must be understood as part of a fragmentary whole. The laws were not smoothly accepted, and it’s possible that Augustus himself was not quite the moral beacon he intended to be (explaining, maybe, his treatment of his daughter in her exile and the way in which he brought her back to a more comfortable life in Italy some years later). In concluding, in abstract terms, I think it’s reasonable to see the laws as cohesive, they do seem to set out with the same ideas in mind, but with many things, once they are set into the context of genuine human relations and interaction they became much more complex.

Some thoughts on Werner Eck's "The Age of Augustus".

Following chronologically from reading about the Civil Wars of the Late Republic between Caesar and Pompey, I recently picked up "The Age of Augustus" from the eminent German scholar Werner Eck (the work is well translated by Deborah Lucas Schneider). It's important to note, for reasons which will be made clear later, that I read the 2007 edition.

Briefly I must also make a brief statement regarding nomenclature. It's a convention of historical analysis of this period that prior to 27 B.C.E, Augustus is known by his birth name as Octavian (despite the fact he used his adopted fathers name - Gaius Julius Caesar - after 44 B.C.E) and that Augustus is used for 27 B.C.E and beyond. I will stick to this system in this small review.

Eck begins the work with a brief look at the Res Gestae of Augustus (essentially a lengthy statement of his achievements that was mounted on his mausoleum in Rome for all to see), which to my mind is the best place to start, by running through the main themes of the Res Gestae, Eck manages to introduce and foreshadow the main topics for discussion later in this work.

Using the Res Gestae to underpin the work is a smart choice, for it not only highlights the fact that our understanding of the period is heavily influenced by Augustus' own summary, plus his powerful influence, but also that the essential purpose of the work is to expose the half-truths evident in the Res Gestae itself for the propaganda that they are.

The next few sections are essentially preliminary - they cover the period before the "Augustan Age" (usually considered 27 B.C.E onwards, when the then Octavian "restored" the Republic and accepted the name Augustus), and so are a little outside the works remit. That said, however, much of the thrust of the work depends on Augustus' actions during this period. Nevertheless, it's an essential introduction and well constructed.

Eck recognises and outlines right from the offset that Augustus exerted a huge amount of influence on the period and subsequent history of it. His power was truly immense. Choosing to begin the work with a discussion of the Res Gestae both serves to illustrate this and undermine the "truths" put forward by that influence. Even in the opening sections Eck is at pains to emphasise the large amount of propaganda Octavian used in his Civil War against Mark Antony, and how much of our understanding of the period, and of Antony more generally from this time, is taken directly from the proclamations of Octavian.

The opening section also pays homage to the notion from Syme that the Augustan Age was one essentially crafted from great slaughter and promotion of partisans. Eck does not shy away from the brutality of Octavian during this period, but there is no excessive, Syme like, focus on it. Overall, I think, it's a fair and thoughtful introduction to the period - highlighting the main themes, the central problems and the general tone of the time and character of the future Augustus.

One curiosity of the opening period is the relatively few mentions of Augustus' "party" - namely his right hand man, Agrippa and his advisor Mycaenas. Agrippa is not mentioned until Actium (the decisive battle of the Civil War between Antony and Octavian) and Mycaenas gets barely a fleeting mention throughout the whole work. Given that Agrippa exerted huge influence on Octavian's early rise (he was a great General and soldier) this is somewhat bizarre. A few reasons exist for why this may be, though.

Firstly - all glory was Octavian's/Augustus'. Members of his direct family could share the glory of military victories, but essentially all glory was laid squarely at his feet. In this respect, it's not surprising that others who may be similarly powerful architects of his victories would be overshadowed. Secondly - the nature of politics in this period is essentially private - Octavian, and his aides, would make decisions behind closed doors, and so it's only natural that most of the successes that came from them would be attributed to the figurehead.

The sections following the chronologically based opening of the work are primarily thematic. The topics are all drawn from those highlighted in the opening sections. They cover the general areas of interest during the Augustan Age - the army, foreign policy, the development of his position, government and administration, the city of Rome, the succession and finally his death. Discussing the period in this way is sensible, as it allows Eck to show the deeply gradual process of change that underpins Augustus' entire reign. Nothing was immediate, every success experienced trial and error beforehand, and not everything worked as planned.

Eck's insistence on the slow and steady development of the new system (pg.57 onwards) is merited. He highlights the fact that our understanding of the period comes very much from later sources, who tend to conflate the almost final Augustan model present at his death (in 14 C.E) with the one in place in 27 B.C.E, and as such the essentially gradual development of his position is usually missed. The constant tinkering with army finances and also the fact that his actual position in the state was not clear until well after Actium, are two arguments Eck uses to support this. Given the evidence, I agree with him entirely, as does most scholarly opinion.

Each section has a nice discussion at it's heart. The official statements of the Res Gestae are compared with the, often, conflicting evidence, and Eck spends much effort trying to pull back the façade of the Augustan Age, although nothing excessively controversial comes to light. The effect of the thematic approach is that at the end one (should!) have attained a reasonably rounded and full understanding of the Augustan period. Eck certainly touches on the large themes and does them justice for such a short work.

Criticism of the work prior to the 2007 edition often focused on the complete lack of wordage given to Augustus' social legislation (an immensely important part of the overall Augustan "package" sold to the Roman world). Thankfully, this has been rectified in the 2007 edition, as the topic gets some coverage. That said, however, in some respects it's annoyingly scant - the lack of any discussion of the affair regarding Augustus' daughter, Julia, despite it being hinted at, is a source of chagrin.

Another criticism, which sadly still remains in force, is that there is little mention of the literary and artistic program instigated under Augustus. Vergil and Horace get little mention, and their patron, Augustus' confidant Mycaenas, along with his relationship to Augustus and his "program" more generally is sadly never really given any space or discussion.

The work, then, focuses more on politics. In this respect Eck is somewhat of a successor to Syme - he reads the period as one of people being bound to Augustus, forming a "party" of Augustus so to speak. That he spends considerably less time emphasising the brutal nature of the party's formulation that Syme, does not detract greatly from that essential point. Eck rallies against the conception of Augustus as a benign leader instigating a period of great (and successful) reforms across every layer of society (a rally first started by Syme in the "Roman Revolution"), and instead attempts to see through the Res Gestae (and by implication the propaganda). He sums this up wonderfully when he accuses many historians of taking Augustus "at his own word" (pg.148).

Before concluding, I'd like to make some brief comments on organisation and formulation of the work more generally. Firstly, it makes every effort to translate Latin phrases for the general reader, which is admirable, although curiously the work contains no glossary, which would be very helpful. Secondly, there is no referencing throughout the work, which makes it highly irritating to both the scholar and the general interest reader looking for more specific works.

Lastly, a copy of the Res Gestae is included within the book, and given it's importance, it's an excellent addition. It's a translation by Sarolta A. Takács, which is intended to somewhat supersede the Brunt and Moore edition. While it's an excellent addition to the work, I still think owning Brunt and Moore's edition of the Res Gestae is thoroughly worthwhile, not least for the introduction and copious notes.

In summarising, then, Eck's work is a thoughtful and useful piece of scholarship on the Augustan period. It tries to see through the propaganda (which is exceptionally difficult) and to understand the time much more objectively. Eck succeeds with this in most respects. He urges understanding of period to be clear on it's gradual development, and he covers most of the primary aspects of the complete overhaul Augustus instigated (art and literature aside, sadly).

Eck, though, is keenly aware of the difficulty in pulling back the Augustan veil (he emphasies that all portrayals of the period must stem from the Res Gestae - pg.171), but for the most part he does so with great vigor. One of the elements of Augustus' early life that is sadly underemphasised is his overriding brutality in the finishing of the Civil Wars. It's possible that this arises from Eck's German roots, and the uncomfortable nature of German's discussing brutal dictators, although I would not like to put to much weight on this thought.

In some respects, when one considers Eck's continuation of Syme's "Augustan Party" argument (in showing the Res Gestae to be a work of half truth, Eck essentially indicates how Augustus really asserted his position - brutality to begin with but ruthlessness throughout in developing a core of supporters), the essential conflict between attempting to reveal the true Augustus but being worried of the brutal dictator that may lay beneath, is the central idea that I will take away from my reading of this work.

These things aside, as an introduction, and considering it includes the Res Gestae, this work is certainly essential for anyone beginning to understand the Augustan Age, and also as an interesting piece of literature for those already familiar with it and the various scholarly debates it gives rise to.


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Relevant bibliography: Eck, Werner, "The Augustan Age" (trans. Deborah Lucas Schneider) with "Res Gestae Divi Augusti" (trans. Sarolta A. Takács), Blackwell (2007).

Addendum: Some research on the translation by Sarolta A. Takács, and also of Eck's book more generally, has gave rise to some criticisms of the work, and also with regards to it's editing. Those criticisms can be found at the following link: http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2004/2004-09-36.html#t5.

With regards the Latin translations, I feel unqualified to comment, but I can confirm that the 2007 edition reviewed here does not contain the rather humourous "Inspector Caesar" error.