[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review]
The Temporality of Festivals: Approaches to Festive Time in Ancient Babylon,Greece, Rome, and Medieval China compiles studies on festive time across ancient cultures. The German edition title is Die Zeitlichkeit von Festen.
In her Introduction Anke Walter poses a central question: How can time become festive? She notes that while festivals have been widely studied, the specific temporality of festivals has not yet attracted sufficient attention. The volume thus aims to address this gap by examining how we can recover “a sense of the temporality of festivals of the past” through diverse sources like calendars and literature, focusing on cultures from ancient Babylon to medieval China, all of which “share a sense of calendrically recurring festive time as something special that needs to be carefully mapped out and preserved” (p. 1). A key distinction Walter makes is between the everyday (“Alltag”) and the festive (“Fest”). She clarifies that the volume’s focus is on “the – mostly religious – festivals that have a firm place in the calendar and that keep returning at regular intervals, usually every year,” as opposed to irregular private or public celebrations like weddings or triumphs (p. 1–2). This recurring festive time is “mandated by the calendar,” turning everyday time into festive time “again and again, not because something special has just happened… but because the time for a certain festival that was instituted in the past has come round again” (p. 2).
Walter highlights that these religious festivals often have a political dimension, as “the question of who declares a day to be a festival, who has an interest in upholding certain festive traditions, and how much time is accorded to certain kinds of festive activities can be intimately connected with questions of power and authority” (p. 2). She then delves into the complex nature of festive time, arguing it is “a bit harder to define” than a simple calendrical entry because “it tends to spill over, as it were, into the time of everyday life” through preparations and aftermaths, creating “little islands of festive time” (p. 2–3). She cites Hans-Georg Gadamer’s concept of festivals having their own “Eigenzeit”: a festival is not empty time to be filled but instead “fills time,” arresting it and making it linger. This creates a simultaneity of two layers of time: the measurable clock time and a perceived time that may pass quickly due to excitement or slowly due to an unusual peace (p. 3–4). A major function of festive time, as Walter notes following Jan Assmann, is commemoration and its role in “kulturelles Gedächtnis”. The festival embodies “the ‘other time'” and is “the most original and the central instantiation of ‘cultural memory’,” allowing humans to live in two spheres of time at once. This means festive time deeply informs everyday life, providing “a stronger sense of perspective and purpose” while reaffirming cultural continuity (p. 5).
Finally, Walter addresses the challenge of accessing past festive time. She warns that the calendrical definition of festive time risks being too narrow, overlooking the multi-dimensional aspects that make its study rewarding. Festive time is also marked by “sacred objects, or special clothes and decorations, but also wine, music, and dance,” and the transformation of space, all contributing to an intangible “festive atmosphere” (p. 6). Different sources provide different access: Babylonian astronomical records offer one view, Chinese calendars another, and literature like Greek tragedy or Roman lyric poetry yet another, each with “its own conventions for the construction of (literary) time and its own aspirations to artistic timelessness” (p. 6–7). The volume’s contributions thus aim to show that “the temporality of festivals can be a valuable and powerful category when approaching the past,” providing a starting point for further cross-cultural study (pp. 7-8).
In the first chapter, “Astronomical, Sequential, and Festive Time in the Late Babylonian New Year Festival” (pp. 11-25), John Steele examines the complex interplay between different temporal dimensions within one of ancient Mesopotamia’s most significant religious celebrations. The Late Babylonian New Year Festival represents the final stage of a long tradition that can be traced back to at least the third millennium BCE, celebrating “the beginning of the new year, which is connected to the re-establishment of cosmic order, and the symbolic renewal of the bond between the king, the gods, and the country” (p. 11). Steele emphasizes that our understanding of this festival comes exclusively from scholarly ritual texts, specifically seven tablets from Babylon and five from Uruk, which present significant differences in their descriptions. The Babylonian texts, which form the focus of Steele’s analysis, show that the Late Babylonian version of the festival differed from earlier iterations, most notably through the apparent absence of the akītu house where the king was traditionally sequestered. As Steele notes, “we have very little contemporary evidence that the festival even took place at all in this late period. If it did, it may only have been irregular, and was almost certainly a much smaller event than in earlier times” (p. 13).
Steele then explores three distinct aspects of time within the festival: astronomical, sequential, and festive. The texts specify exact moments for ritual actions using the bēru system, where one bēru equals two hours. For instance, on day 2 of the festival, the high priest must rise at “1 bēru of night” (i.e., two hours after sunset) (p. 16). This timing progresses later each night, increasing by one-third bēru per day, reflecting a schematic astronomical model. Steele observes that this variation “may well have been inspired by the tradition of schematic astronomy” (p. 18). Sequential time governs the order of ritual actions. The texts frequently use terms such as “once” (TA), “after” (EGIR), and “when” (e-nu-ma) to structure the ritual sequence. As Steele explains, these sequential markers help coordinate “the activities of the Elder Brother and other participants in the festival” (p. 24). Festive time concerns the subjective experience of time during the celebration. Steele acknowledges the difficulty in reconstructing this dimension from ritual texts alone. However, he notes that the processions of divine statues on the fifth day would have created a distinct temporal experience for observers, as it “was probably one of the only times during the year when they could be seen by the general populace” (p. 12).
In his chapter “The Tragic Day,” Glenn Most explores the distinctive temporal compression that characterizes Athenian tragedy, particularly its tendency to concentrate catastrophic events within a single fateful day (pp. 27-37). This concept, he argues, is intrinsically linked to both the dramatic structure of the plays themselves and the real-world context of their performance at the Dionysia festival. He begins by anchoring his analysis in Aristotle’s Poetics, which famously observes that “tragedy tends so far as possible to stay within a single revolution of the sun, or close to it, while epic is unlimited in time span” (Aristotle, Poetics 5 1449b). This “single revolution of the sun” (μίαν περίοδον ἡλίου) becomes the central pillar for Most’s investigation. He contends that this temporal limitation is not merely an arbitrary formal rule but a profound aesthetic and thematic choice that defines the tragic experience. The “tragic day” is the day of disaster, the day when long-festering conflicts come to a head and inescapable fates are realized.
This concept is illustrated through examples from the plays. In Euripides’ Medea, for instance, Medea persuades Creon to grant her a single day’s reprieve, declaring that she will use it to turn that day into a tragic one: “a day on which I shall make corpses of three of my enemies” (p. 31). In Sophocles’ Ajax, the prophet Calchas delivers a precise prophecy that defines the temporal bounds of the hero’s crisis: “keep Ajax in the hut during this present day and not to let him out, if he wished ever to see him alive. For the anger of divine Athena shall pursue him for this day only” (p. 33). Most then proposes that the “tragic day” within the play mirrors the actual “festive day” on which it was performed. Each performance at the festival was a unique, unrepeatable event, a single day dedicated to the god Dionysus. This created a powerful synchrony between the real time of the festival and the fictional time of the drama. “For the audience, the tragic day is a matter of the calendar; for the characters, it is a question of life or death” (p. 36). This confluence would have intensified the experience, blurring the lines between the celebration of the god and the contemplation of human suffering.
Most’s chapter concludes by considering the philosophical and existential weight of this convergence. The festival was a time of joy, celebration, and civic pride; the tragedies performed there were stories of ultimate suffering and loss. Most sees in this juxtaposition a profoundly Greek sensibility: “What a remarkable way the Athenians invented to celebrate the beginning of spring: to remind themselves of the precariousness of the human condition and of the likelihood of disaster and grief. How Greek!” (p. 36). He offers in a footnote a “poetological hypothesis”: that the struggle of the tragic hero to face their single day of fate mirrors the poet’s own struggle for victory in the dramatic competition. “For what is at stake in the tragic day is not only the tragic character’s own life or death, but also the success or failure of the tragedy which the tragic poet has composed and which is set into a competition with two other poets’ productions” (p. 36, n. 11).
In the third chapter, “Festive Time in the Poetry of Horace”, Walter explores how the Roman poet Horace conceptualizes and represents festive time in his Odes, revealing two distinct but interconnected experiences: the individual’s perception of festivity as a fleeting, precious moment and the state’s embodiment of festive time as an eternal, cyclical affirmation of Rome’s historical and future stability. She argues that Horace uses poetic deferral, symbolic objects like wine, and ritualized language to intertwine these temporal experiences, enriching the lyrical celebration of both private and public occasions. Horace’s treatment of festive time is deeply nuanced. Walter notes, “festive time can have essentially two different shapes: it can be perceived as a highly precious, but also a highly fleeting moment” (p. 39). This duality is central to Horace’s poetic project. The individual, in the brevity of their life, experiences festivity as transient and urgent, while the Roman citizen, participating in public rituals, engages with a festive temporality that evokes the longevity of the state and the divine favor ensuring its continuity.
In Odes 3.8, for example, Horace celebrates the Matronalia and his personal survival. The poem begins with a call to prepare sympotic elements, yet “the fulfilment of the festive moment itself is deferred” (p. 42). Similarly in Odes 2.11, Horace contrasts the swift passage of life with the imperative to seize the festive moment. The poem advises Quinctius to abandon worldly concerns and embrace sympotic pleasure: why not sit down “beneath a tall plane tree, or better this pine here, while there is still time” (p. 44). The interplay between public and private festive time is perhaps most vividly explored in Odes 3.14, which commemorates Augustus’ return to Rome. The public celebration is depicted with monumental temporality, making the festive time a reaffirmation of historical continuity. In contrast, Horace’s personal celebration is conditioned by his own life stage (pp. 48-49). Walter also examines Odes 4.6, where festive time is eternalized through poetry and ritual. Horace’s poetry here becomes a medium to encapsulate and perpetuate the festive moment. In Odes 4.6, which serves as a “postlude” to the Carmen Saeculare, Horace self-consciously reflects on his role as the vates who composed the secular hymn. Walter emphasizes that this final self-reference (vatis horati) “completes it by naming the poet who is not mentioned by name in the Carmen Saeculare,” thus anchoring the eternal cycle of festivity in Horace’s own lyrical authority (p. 52).
The last chapter of this small volume is written by Alain Arrault (pp. 59-91), with the title “Recovering Memory by Cumulating Calendars: Festivities at Dunhuang in Medieval China (9th –10th Centuries)”. Arrault presents a reconstruction of the complex festive landscape in Dunhuang by synthesizing data from multiple calendrical sources. He argues that “festive time is not merely a matter of an entry in the calendar, but it has to be understood as a multi-dimensional phenomenon that encompasses many aspects, material and immaterial, objective and importantly also subjective” (p. 6). He does not rely on calendars alone but juxtaposes them with administrative account books, lists of offerings, and documents from worship associations. While the calendar prescribed when a festival should occur, the other documents reveal how it was celebrated, who participated, and what resources were devoted to it.
The chapter is structured around three main categories of festivals: agricultural, official, and local or foreign. Agricultural festivals, deeply tied to the rhythm of the seasons and soil, included the pivotal She sacrifices to the Earth God. Arrault notes that documents relating to worship associations in Dunhuang often specify the dues to be paid to participate in the great banquet (Zuoshe) held on this occasion (p. 67). Official festivals, decreed by the central state, were integrated into the local calendar to project imperial power into this region. These included celebrations like the Offering to the Founders (Shidian) (p. 66). The performance of these rites served as a reminder of Dunhuang’s place within Tang. Perhaps the most fascinating aspect of Arrault’s analysis is his exploration of local and foreign festivals, which reveals Dunhuang as a cosmopolitan hub on the Silk Road. He identifies several enigmatic local festivals, such as the Sacrifice for Opening the Springs (Qiyuan ji), fixed in the first month, on the first day with the branch zi to follow the beginning of Spring (lichun) (p. 65). The origins of such festivals remain obscure, suggesting deeply rooted indigenous traditions not documented in central Chinese sources. The Dunhuang calendars preserve traces of other religious practices, pointing to a diverse population. Arrault finds evidence of Zoroastrian influence in the form of the xian cult, likely referring to the Zoroastrian deities. He details how the local administration financed offerings for this foreign religion (p. 81). This official sanction and funding of a non-native cult is a powerful testament to the religious pluralism and syncretic environment of medieval Dunhuang. Arrault delves into the rich material culture of festivity. For instance, the records itemize the provisions for banquets: “The most impressive expenditure, however, is for the great ritual banquet organized in honour of the Horse God, held on the VI/7 both at the beginning of the 10th century and in 947. Nothing was skimped on… enough to feed around 380 people for one day (P2667); the second no less than 12 piculs and more than 5 bushels, enough to feed 600 people for one day (P2641)!” (p. 85).
The subtitle of the volume under review already indicates that comparative studies are to be expected. Nevertheless, as one goes through with the authors in exploring the diverse categories of historical records from Ancient Babylon, Greece, Rome, and Medieval China presented therein, it becomes evident that the otherwise compact volume in fact showcases quite distinct writing styles, each meticulously adapted to its respective subject matter and sources. Although this might appear to be of secondary importance, when viewed from the perspective of the general pragmatics of comparative research, it is perhaps not an insignificant aspect. Steele’s chapter utilizes a concise and technical style grounded in philological analysis and empirical exactitude. It dissects Akkadian particles (ultu, arki) and astronomical intervals with precision. In sharp contrast, Most adopts a flexible, intertextual prose saturated with classical rhetoric and dramatic intensity, rendering his chapter not only intellectually stimulating but also a highly absorbing reading endeavor. Walter’s text shares a literary sensibility with Most, yet her prose oscillates between Latin poetics and political-historical analysis. Arrault’s chapter, on the other hand, embraces textual exhaustiveness characteristic of manuscript studies.
This seemingly insignificant aspect reveals a more profound issue inherent in the design of the book. Although the volume has compiled chapters on ancient festivals, it appears that not much attention has been given to Temporality, the key concept that presumably integrates all parts into a whole. In the Introduction, as mentioned before, Walter introduces the concept of “two layers of time” during festivals, drawing on Hans-Georg Gadamer’s philosophical exploration. However, the author does not provide a more detailed definition of this concept. Instead, she illustrates it descriptively, emphasizing how festive time operates alongside ordinary time without fully displacing it. It is understandable that the volume is presented as a collection of interdisciplinary case studies rather than a theoretical treatise, and its primary aim is to demonstrate how festive temporality can be reconstructed from diverse sources across different cultures, rather than to develop a unified theoretical framework. In fact, each of the individual chapters, penned by true experts, merits gratitude for their contributions regarding Babylonian rituals, Greek tragedy, Horace’s poetry, or Dunhuang festivals. However, when the individual contributors investigate temporality with their respective interests, such as ritual sequencing, literary deferral, or calendrical cumulation, the readership of the volume is left to fill in the overall theoretical framework.
In this context, a reader might want an overarching anthropology of time, such as articulated by Alfred Gell to bridge the varied essays of the volume. In The Anthropology of Time: Cultural Constructions of Temporal Maps and Images,[1] Gell synthesizes philosophy, economics, geography, phenomenology, and cognitive psychology to propose a model of how humans mentally represent and navigate temporal experience. His argument hinges on a fundamental distinction between two conceptions of time: The A-series is the dynamic, egocentric perspective where events are qualitatively distinguished as past, present, or future. In contrast, the B-series is the static, ontological ordering of events in terms of earlier-than/later-than relations (esp. Gell, pp. 149-155). Gell argues they are the cognitive tools that allow us to navigate the objective constraints of time, calculate opportunity costs, and imbue our existence with a sense of fatefulness and subjective meaning. It is a pity that no mention in the volume is made of Gell’s endeavor; the individual studies are insightful but remain, in the end, disjointed.
Authors and Titles
Introduction (Anke Walter)
Astronomical, Sequential, and Festive Time in the Late Babylonian New Year Festival (John Steele)
“The Tragic Day” (Glenn W. Most)
Festive Time in the Poetry of Horace (Anke Walter)
Recovering Memory by Cumulating Calendars: Festivities at Dunhuang in Medieval China (9th–10th Centuries) (Alain Arrault)
Notes
[1] Gell, Alfred. The Anthropology of Time: Cultural Constructions of Temporal Maps and Images. Routledge Classics Edition. London/New York: Routledge, 2018. Previously published as Gell, Alfred. The Anthropology of Time: Cultural Constructions of Temporal Maps and Images. Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1992 (Hardcover); 1996 (Paperback edition with new preface).