As the field of Disability Studies has grown in recent decades so too have inquiries into ancient conceptualisations of disability.[1] Modern terminologies, diagnostic criteria, and ideological and ethical developments in the language we use around disability could be seen as barriers to writing ancient disability history. Yet, Laes’ erudite and concise booklet demonstrates that, although discourses may differ, there is a trove of evidence for lived experiences of disability, and the mythical, healing, and religious contexts that helped structure and articulate those experiences. As part of the Cambridge Elements series, Disability and Healing in Greek and Roman Myth features an introduction, five chapters framed around select case studies, and a conclusion that highlights the value of bringing ancient mythmaking, healing, and religion into disability studies. It also features notes, colour images, and a detailed recommended reading section.
The introduction immediately grapples with the difficulty of terminology and the preconceptions, ideologies, and stigma inherent within. Laes, a well-known scholar of ancient disability, urges readers to remember that “choices for terminology are inevitably ideologically loaded, and users are not always aware of this” (3). Disability historians must likewise be prepared to rethink dominant Western concepts of a Classical past that idealised perfect physical and mental sophrosyne and thus rejected ‘other’ bodies.[2] By investigating injuries, impairments, and disabilities, and situating them within their unique historical and conceptual contexts, historians can challenge stereotypes and can accept the “corporeality of human existence, and at the same time argue against naïve positivism” (3).
A key strength of Laes’ work is in the comprehensive range of disabilities it covers so concisely and how it weaves different physical, cognitive, and sensory experiences with religious practice and thought. Chapter Two approaches Graeco-Roman mythical and religious examples from “head-to-toe” and maps out experiences beginning with madness or what would now be termed psychosocial disability (14). The vivid description of the goddess Lyssa inflicting Ajax with chaotic visions that drove him to commit vile deeds and then suicide precedes examples of “divine madness” (16). My personal interest in psychosocial disability flinched momentarily at the easy transition from madness to post-traumatic stress disorder (17). But this reaction speaks to Laes’ broader contention that the semantic and diagnostic distinctions we make today impact how we interpret ancient sources.
Blindness is treated in more detail owing to the greater amount of textual evidence, providing readers with a thorough survey of direct examples of blindness in both myth and history. This is balanced by an analysis of examples of blindness as divine punishment or pre-emptive of soothsaying, and as metonymic for cowardice, slow-wittedness, being blinded by wealth, or blind to the truth. Laes often provides readers with interesting details that provide additional context. I learned, for example, of the enduring legacy of the Cyclops myth in antiquity, as demonstrated by the fact that famous, visually impaired figures throughout Greek and Roman history were called Cyclopes, from Philip II of Macedon (382-336BCE) to the emperor Firmus (372-375CE) (21). By contrast, hearing and speech impairments are dealt with briefly as primarily a human, not divine, experience. The primary ‘disabled’ god, Hephaestus, exemplified ancient difficulties in representing and interpreting disabled deities, while heroes with mobility issues were understood to have developed those impairments as a result of their personal sacrifice or misdeeds.
Chapter Three explores concepts of disability through the lens of “oddities”, namely dwarfism, monsters, twins, and old age. Acknowledging that modern opinions may not construct these categories as disabilities, Laes guides the reader through select cases of discrimination based on capacity and/or perception. Explicit examples include public displays of discrimination, such as the perverse spectacle in the Colosseum staged by Commodus, in which amputees were bound together to resemble serpents and forced to battle the emperor (40).[3] Less explicit are examples of systemic ambivalent attitudes towards dwarfism in myth and daily life, and Laes argues that evidence for divine and mortal twins points to a conceptual disconnect in that twins were not necessarily stigmatised, but hybrid and monstrous twins prompted some anxiety. Mythical creatures with decrepit appearances, respected and wise older generals of Homeric epic, and the elderly Teiresias indicate that old age was not always seen as disabling but this depended on the individual’s specific circumstances. These topics may seem problematic at first because they would not be immediately categorised as forms of disability today. Again, this is part of Laes’ purpose to challenge the security of the reader’s definitions and conceptual framework. The fact that something is not classified as a disability today does not mean that it was not viewed as disabling in antiquity.
Chapter Four departs from myth to explore everyday organization. If religion and healing went hand in hand with purity, then surely religious representatives need also to have been untouched by impairment. Laes shows that, while this was certainly an aspiration, it was not always the case, particularly in Rome where political office and religious offices sometimes coalesced and were held by men with debilitating illnesses and speech impairments. These vignettes show the reader that there was an awkward overlap between the ideal and the realities of implementing it.
While Christianity may seem out of place in a work on Graeco-Roman history, Laes assures the reader in Chapter Five that elements of these myths and traditions were found in Christian texts, particularly in their denunciations of pagan religion. Laes shows that tales of the life of Jesus were linked to disability experiences, providing followers with miracles that anchored “the value system of a society and affirmatively provide answers people sought to persistent questions regarding their human experience” (55). For the Christian afterlife, death brought either the reward of perfect purity through Christ or physical condemnation and suffering for one’s transgressions. While slightly beyond the scope of this chapter, Christian notions of community service and practices of helping those in need might be a relevant topic to demonstrate religion in practice.
Statues of beautiful men with rippling musculature engaged in athletic and heroic poses pointed to idealised physical forms, certainly, but Laes’ account shows that this did not always produce what we would call “ableism” (59). Likewise, examples of lived and mythical experiences of disability myth, religion, and healing did not equate to the full integration of disabled people within society. These ambivalences provide space for the historian’s craft to thrive. Laes shows that context matters. By situating similarities, differences, consistencies, and changes within their contexts, historians can reappraise stereotypes and general observations to highlight the diversity of human experience.
Because it is a concise and introductory booklet, there were occasional observations, mentions of ancient tales, and inferences to the scholarly debate provided without source material. This is, however, a minute observation that is thoroughly addressed by the Further Reading section, which summarises the scholarly debate for each chapter in sufficient detail. Cambridge Elements booklets are quick and abridged versions of wider topics, and Laes’ approach is to be commended for condensing the sheer amount of evidence and explaining the complexities of this interdisciplinary field in an engaging and personable style. The book enriches the field and, from it, readers either well-versed in or new to the field will encounter familiar and novel evidence for embodied and metaphysical experiences, which produced different meanings interpreted through a variety of factors and contexts.
Notes
[1] For example, Laes, C., (ed.) 2023. A Cultural History of Disability in Antiquity. London: Bloomsbury; Laes, C., (ed.) 2017. Disability in Antiquity. London: Routledge.
[2] Gruen, E.S., 2010. Rethinking the Other in Antiquity. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
[3] Cass. Dio, 73.20.3.