[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review.]
The introduction sets out the aims of the volume: building on the “rhetorical turn”, to treat Roman historiography as an intertextual set of texts constructing the past. Four usages of the past are discussed: 1) the past as a model, 2) the past as personal experience, 3) a past reinterpreted through engagement with previous texts, and 4) a reinterpretation of the past by changes in style or mode of writing. These four usages form an implicit framework to the volume. Despite the good overview of recent work on different usages of the past in Roman historiography, the work of Varro and Roman antiquarianism are conspicuously absent.
Roberto Cristofoli analyses of the use of previous historiographical traditions in Velleius Paterculus’ description of the battle of Actium. For presenting the reader with a pro-Augustan narrative, Paterculus severed connections between the different historical events. Despite the useful incorporation of poetical sources and the sound philological analysis, the contribution lacks an introduction to Paterculus, and does not provide any contextualisation of Velleius’ pro-Augustan use of the past. What does Paterculus’ disjointed and pro-Augustan narrative tell us about the reaction of contemporary elite Romans to the installation of the Principate and its reconfiguration of the recent Roman past?
Rachel Lilley Love shows how Florus provided, through selection and (mis-)representation of historical material, a description of the Republic suited to a new imperial context under Trajan. Love gives an overview of the earliest Roman historiographical traditions used by Florus, and his biography which explains his use of the Republican past. Florus was challenged to make sense of public authoritative writing after the trauma of the Julio-Claudians and Domitian. A digression on 4 Ezra, a Jewish literary work, is a precedent for Florus’ experimentation to restart a broken tradition. Florus’ depiction of the Republican and early imperial history of Rome is a disjointed narrative. In a post-Republican age Republican public discourse and history lose their relevance and are omitted. Love combines a contextual and textual analysis to illustrate another historical response to the introduction of the Principate. The digression into 4 Ezra is unnecessary. Its direct link with Florus is not established, and it is not necessary to further substantiate an already compelling argument.
Kai Ruffing focuses on the relationship between Tacitus’ biography and political career, his political thought and his description of the principate. Ruffing’s main criticism of previous interpretations of these relationships is the incorrect assumption that the political career of a historian cannot be taken as evidence for his political thought. From the perspective of intentional historiography, Tacitus is put firmly in the context of the imperial revival after Domitian: the historian was promoted by and showed his support for the new regime through his literary oeuvre. This contribution provides a good framework for the study of imperial historians in (late) antiquity and has the merit of adding numismatic evidence to an otherwise exclusively textual analysis.
Christopher B. Krebs provides a study of a passage in Caesar dealing with a campaign of Titus Labienus. Krebs uses the concept of “constructive wonder”, an open-minded inquiry into the assembly of a historical text. Krebs convincingly shows the voice of Labienus behind the passage and the presence of Polybius. This implies that Caesar relied on the briefs of his officers and harks back to Polybius as a stylistic model – betraying the influence of Cicero. Krebs asks whether Polybius is consciously used, or rather, like Labienus, just another device in the historian’s toolbox. Krebs vindicates the method of Quellenforschung by providing an excellent example of it. However, is the concept of “constructive wonder” necessary to arrive at his conclusions? To assess the significance of Polybius in Caesar, the intended audience is important. Did this audience have the ability to pick up the presence of Polybius in Caesar, and, if so, to which effect? Why would Caesar associate his legate Labienus with Polybius’ Hannibal, Rome’s enemy?
Ulrike Roth analyses the resemblance between the Livy’s narrative of the Gallic sack of Rome and Polybius’ narrative of the capture of Phoenice. The motive shows Livy’s engagement with Polybius’ view on the development of Roman rule. For both, in long term, the gradual growth of the Roman Empire is fostered by fortune despite temporary setbacks. An important point in favour of a conscious allusion is the position of Gallic sack narrative. Livy’s effort to undermine the importance attributed by Polybius to the Gallic sack is connected to his innovative return to the annalistic history format. Roth’s extremely cautious approach in assessing the allusions makes the chapter a ponderous read. This caution is due to the superficial treatment of the only criterium valid for assessing this engagement: the audience. Did Livy’s readership appreciate his engagement with Polybius?
Christina Shuttleworth Kraus focuses on Livy’s account on the surrender of Falerii Veteres, using the rhetorical and historical trope of the comparatio. The exemplarity of past events makes them models for narrating later historical events. Persons are representatives of a national trait. Livy understands the past and the non-Roman through the comparison, making the focal point of Book 5 the exploration of Romanness. This exploration is achieved through Camillus, a stand-in of Augustus, who represents the Roman concepts of virtus and imperium. Camillus illustrates how these Roman values can result in either success or failure. Discussing the nature of Romanness is also destabilising: assimilating subjected towns such as Falerii Veteres implies sharing Roman power with them. This chapter aptly illustrates an aspect of Livy’s historiographical method. The good rhetorical analysis and close reading touch upon the connection to Augustus, which, in my opinion, could have been pursued more in-depth.
Aske Damtoft Poulsen compares Tacitus’ accusation of Marcellus against Thrasea Paetus with his depiction of the Caledonian chieftain Calgacus. Both passages have intended allusions laden with anachronisms. The allusion is explained in relation to the concepts of solitudo and pax. Associating Paetus and Calgacus adds force to the accusation of Marcellus, but on a more profound level the association backfires with a positive revaluation of Calgacus and a reflection on Roman imperialism. The concept of an anachronistic allusion emphasises the literariness of Roman historiography. However, the proof for the allusion is tenuous. Arguments which carry enough weight in this contribution are inconclusive in, for instance, the chapter of Roth. This confirms a methodological problem recurrent in several contributions: giving weight and attributing significance to textual allusions. In my opinion, the main criterion to tackle this is an assessment of the intended audience and its ability to pick up and interpret allusions.
Rhiannon Ash analyses the interfaces between drama and historiography in Tacitus’ account of the events preceding the death of Agrippina the Younger. The relation between plausible fiction and facts, and the resulting impact of both on Tacitus’ credibility are analysed. Tacitus dramatizes his account to moralise, criticising the theatricality of Nero’s reign and conforming to contemporary use of the stage to critique Nero’s reign. An analysis of the theatrics of Tacitus’ version of the events follows, in comparison with the first choral ode in Pseudo-Seneca’s Octavia. Tacitus’ version is more dramatic. Ps.-Seneca’s writing conforms to the rhetorical format of comparison. This chapter makes a fine use of the sources on Agrippina’s death, on the dramatic tradition and on the (material) context of dramatic practices, showing how Tacitus’ text functioned for an audience accustomed to dramatic modes of presenting history. However, the absence of theatricality in (epitomised) sources does not necessarily attest to the theatricality of Tacitus.
Johan Vekselius tackles the theme of mourning, focusing on Tiberius’ contrasting mourning of Germanicus and Drusus in Tacitus, which emphasises Tiberius’ detachment from society. Tiberius’ grief in other genres shows the significance of genre and purpose. Several sources indicate the historicity of excesses in grief, suggesting a shift during the Empire towards coexisting paradigms of dealing with loss. Compared to other emperors, Tiberius’ self-control was a deviation. The disparity between emotional expression and actual emotion is a theme in Roman historiography, used to describe “bad” emperors and to characterise the Principate as false. However, decrees by Tiberius present a different image. The article provides a thorough exploration of the theme of mourning in Roman historiography with a comparison of literary and epigraphical evidence. However, the inclusion of funeral architecture as a source could have, in my opinion, provided further insight.
Starting from a theoretical framework for the analysis of border culture and theory, the contribution of Kyle Khellaf focuses on the use of digressions in Roman historiography as narrative border spaces for the exploration of different uses of Rome’s past. The article incorporates not only canonical authors, but also minor sources, earlier Roman historiography and non-Roman influences. The article offers a good analysis of the border as a meta-textual universe, but it could have further explained the need for concepts from border studies which are only mentioned in the introduction and at the conclusion. The border as a meta-text can be interpreted as a playful experiment on genres within the innovations on historiography rather than as a psychological projection of modern concepts and feelings onto the psyche of ancient authors such as Livy.
In an epilogue, Anne-Marie Leander Touati examines how the past was used in a local and non-Roman context, as seen through archaeological remains found in Pompeii. This unique perspective shows how the past was used and remembered in a specific Roman town, highlighting the importance of understanding the local context and its pride of its local and familial history in assessing the use of the Roman past.
Publishing a conference volume is always a question of finding a good balance. The preliminary aim and research question(s) set out at the beginning of the conference should provide coherence and a guiding thread through the volume, whereas the different contributions, providing variegated interpretations of the question(s) at hand, might lead to other directions than initially planned, to other questions, or even to the abolishment of proposed concepts and frameworks. A conference volume on a broad subject such as the different uses of the past in Roman historiography is bound to face the same challenge of reconciling diversity and unity. In order to tackle this challenge, the editors have grouped the different contributions to form three sections which deal with fundamental aspects of Roman historiography: (1) Coming to Terms with the Principate, which is one of the fundamental questions Roman historiography tries to solve, apart from the question of the rise of Rome to power, and, in late antiquity, the question of Rome’s decline and fall; (2) Intertextuality and Intratextuality, which covers most of the dynamics of Roman historiography as a textual category; and (3) The Frontiers of Historiography, a section which explores some of the points of contact between Roman historiography and other aspects of Roman (material) culture. In order to ensure a more rounded view of the Roman usages of the past, the editors have included some additional contributions: the chapter of Krebs on Caesar, who would otherwise have been conspicuously absent, and the contribution of Cristofoli on Velleius Paterculus and his treatment of earlier historiographical traditions. These measures resulted in a nice introduction to the different usages of the Roman past for the benefit of anyone interested in Roman historiography. Indeed, despite some claims to the contrary, and despite the counterbalance of the last contribution on local and material history, this volume focuses predominantly on mainstream Roman historiography, with its emphasis on literary sources, canonical authors, and the grand narrative of Rome’s expansion and ensuing establishment of the Principate.
Authors and Titles
Introduction: Usages of the Past in Roman Historiography – Aske Damtoft Poulsen
Part 1. Coming to Terms with the Principate
Velleius Paterculus and the Battle of Actium – Roberto Cristofoli
In Short, the Republic: Florus and the (Re)Written Republic – Rachel Lilley Love
Principatus ac Libertas!? Tacitus, the Past and the Principate of Trajan – Kai Ruffing
Part 2. Intertextuality and Intratextuality
“Making History”: Constructive Wonder (aka Quellenforschung) and the Composition of Caesar’s Gallic War (Thanks to Labienus and Polybius) – Christopher B. Krebs
When in Disgrace with Fortune and Men’s Eyes … Livy (and Polybius) on the Gallic Sack of Rome – Ulrike Roth
Livy’s Faliscan Schoolmaster – Christina Shuttleworth Kraus
From Thrasea Paetus to Calgacus – or Was It the Other Way Around? An Example of Tacitean Intratextuality – Aske Damtoft Poulsen
Part 3 The Frontiers of Historiography
The Staging of Death: Tacitus’ Agrippina the Younger and the Dramatic Turn – Rhiannon Ash
Tiberius and Tears: Grief and Genre – Johan Vekselius
Migration and Mobile Memory in the Roman Historical Digression – Kyle Khellaf
Epilogue: History in Pompeii – Anne-Marie Leander Touati