Contrary to what its cover suggests, this is much more than a book on the archaeological realities of Pompeii. To be sure, Zuchtriegel expertly showcases many of the sensational finds from recent projects promoted by the Pompeii Archaeological Park, such as the excavations of the as-of-yet unexplored sections of Region IX or the equally impressive salvage project of the villa site at Civita Giuliana. In doing so, he also demonstrates how these discoveries can be used to communicate a more authentic image than has been the case in idealized representations of Classical antiquity. Shunning fact-based academic discourse, however, Zuchtriegel’s broader goal is to engage in self-reflection and “lift the lid” (p. 12) to reveal how his personal upbringing and emotional connections to Pompeian art and material culture drive him in setting the agenda to manage Italy’s top heritage attraction – a rewarding but at times unforgiving job.
The psychological aspects of this autobiographical journey are more explicitly conveyed by the original title of the German edition, On the Magic of Ruins: What Pompeii Tells Us About Us (Vom Zauber des Untergangs. Was Pompeji über uns erzählt, 2023). Similarly, in the Italian translation, Pompeii becomes The Enchanted City (Pompei: la città incantata, published in the same year). Both point to the powerful quality that Pompeii has—perhaps more than any other ancient heritage site because of the unique circumstances of its preservation—“to speak to our soul” (as Zuchtriegel puts it on p. 8, paraphrasing Stendhal). What sparks Zuchtriegel’s spiritual experience and, in turn, passion for academic study are the subversive aspects of Classical art and “everything that is contradictory and unsettling in it” (p. 62). Zuchtriegel opens up about his family circumstances, educational background, and early life in Germany which shaped his beliefs to deliver a rallying cry for the creative reinterpretation of the classical canon, a practice which after all finds parallels both in antiquity and later eras (p. 33). In his view, embracing critical approaches from the social sciences represents the only way for Classical Studies as a field to regain the social status and cultural function it was once afforded in the German schooling system and society at large (p.47). This angle will be of interest to American readers who are grappling with similar questions about the role and fate of Classical humanities in higher education.
Gender studies is one of the analytical lenses that Zuchtriegel has been cultivating since his college days at Humboldt University to break away from the alleged conservativism of Klassische Archäologie (p. 44). Thus, Chapter 1 explores the ambivalence of homoeroticism in Greco-Roman society, focusing especially on conceptualizations of Hermaphroditus as reflected in Pompeian wall paintings (pp. 45-62), which defy literary representations of the myth and the accepted hierarchy of active and passive in Roman homosexual relationships. This research thread, originating from a student-led graduate seminar Zuchtriegel organized in Berlin, resurfaced in the first exhibition he officially curated as director of the Pompeii Archaeological Park, which was titled “Art and Sensuality in the Houses of Pompeii” (full disclaimer: I contributed a piece to it and now appreciate the opportunity to learn about the deeper motivations behind that project). The discussion delves into the problems such themes pose to museum professionals, e.g. how to speak to contemporary audiences about the sexual violence implicit in many mythological representations and the complexity of translating it into modern terminology without erasing their historical context, or how to present sexual imagery to children, one of the largest categories of visitors in Pompeii (pp. 56-59).
The topic of Roman sexual morals returns in Chapter 2, albeit framed in the broader context of the religious function of ancient art and the archaeology of ancient rituals (pp. 86-93), an approach Zuchtriegel first embraced while working under Massimo Osanna at Gabii.[1] Here, Zuchtriegel focuses on the cult of Dionysus/Bacchus and reviews interpretations of the famous cycle from the Villa of the Mysteries (pp. 105-115), which can range from mystic representation (Sauron) to original depiction of a wedding painted from the bride’s perspective (Bieber; Maiuri), but by men for men, in a purely allegorical fashion devoid of any spirituality (Veyne). According to Zuchtriegel, objectivity in archaeological interpretation can only come as the result of “scholarly duels in which nobody gets badly hurt but everyone learns a lot”. His encouragement is to look for any subtle clues that might reveal the “inner engines” of each participant. Intuitions borne by feelings, however, should always be tested by argument (p. 119).
The themes of marriage, eroticism, and Dionysian imagery feature prominently in the silver medallions originally inserted in the ceremonial carriage found at the Civita Giuliana site, whose description introduces Chapter 3. This excavation project has been at the forefront in the Archaeological Park’s fight against looting and illicit traffic of antiquities from the Vesuvian sites, alongside the recent dispute involving the so-called Doryphoros of Stabiae, now at the Minneapolis Institute of Art (pp. 126-131), for which an international warrant for repatriation was issued by the Prosecutor’s Office of Torre Annunziata in 2022.[2] For Zuchtriegel, however, the most fascinating finding from the Civita Giuliana villa does not relate to world of the super-rich who owned it. What interests him is the so called “slave room”, a tight and poorly lit space where at least three individuals worked and slept, in rope beds revealed through plaster casts (pp. 133-136).
Nothing here allows the identification of the legal status of the room’s inhabitants.[3] Nevertheless, Pompeian archaeology affords us the rare opportunity “to take a peek behind the official version of history” and give voice to the men and women who lived in poor circumstances (pp. 143-144), through methods of critical fabulation.[4] A funerary inscription found outside the Stabian Gate in 2017, discussed in Chapter 4, seems to imply that Pompeii had a much higher population than previously thought – 30,000 urban dwellers according to the maximum estimates given by Osanna.[5] Zuchtriegel favors a compromise count that sees an urban population of the order of 20,000 (still twice as previous calculations!), living in about 1,400 dwellings. Bringing his grandparents’ experience as post-WWII refugees back to mind, he concludes that by 79 CE every “living space inside the city was cramped” (pp. 152-154). The average figures he provides—14 people per house unit or two people per individual habitable space (p. 161)—suggest that hundreds of rooms like the one unearthed at Civita Giuliana were similarly crammed (p. 163). Considering that the agriculturally rich countryside of Pompeii produced primarily for export, overpopulation represented a huge risk for the town. It comes as no surprise that food shortages could occur even in times of peace, requiring the kind of benefactions listed on the S. Paolino inscription which the unnamed local politician, possibly Cn. Alleius Nigidius Maius, was able to provide.
Another Pompeian benefactor takes center stage in Chapter 5, M. Venerius Secundio, a character known from a grave excavated in 2021 outside the Sarno Gate. This was the first important discovery occurring after Zuchtriegel became director. We learn from Secundio’s funerary inscription that he was a former slave of the colony (i.e., a property of the city administration), member of the order of the Augustales, and guardian of the Temple of Venus, the patron goddess of Pompeii, who organized and covered the costs of four days of Greek and Latin spectacles at Pompeii. Zuchtriegel speculates that the unusual choice of burial rite, inhumation rather than cremation, might have been in response to Nero’s penchant for Greek practices, or a nod to the funerary treatment received by Poppaea, a local who remained very popular in Pompeii (pp. 200-203). While dispelling the theory that early Christians were present in town, Zuchtriegel argues that Pompeii’s economic crisis could have spurred new ideas about the relationship to death, which ultimately offered fertile ground for unorthodox religions to take root (pp. 206-209).
Interwoven with these deep dives into the history and archaeology of Pompeii, which are presented in a style that is accessible to the non-specialists and beautifully illustrated in photo plates, are personal anecdotes that expose the intense campaign of political pressure and the strict scrutiny that followed Zuchtriegel’s appointment to the job (e.g., pp.176-179). Italian readers may be more familiar with the broader criticism leveled against the recent reform of the Ministry of Culture, which separated the management of museums and archaeological parks from the state archaeological service. For Pompeii, the restructuring brought the ability to manage funds independently, allowing completion of the largest conservation project ever launched at the site (the “Great Pompeii Project” directed by Zuchtriegel’s predecessor). Another notable outcome has been the adoption of timely forms of communication that prioritize the wider audience, whose ticket fees and tax payments help fund the autonomous institutes (pp. 139-142 give us a behind-the-scenes look at the Pompeii communication team’s workflow, rejecting accusations that these are media stunts for marketing and propaganda). A new online resource was also created in 2023, the E-Journal degli-scavi di Pompei, which features interim reports on the ongoing work by the Archaeological Park, with the goal of backing the press releases and posts on social media outlets with scientific data.[6]
Public outreach and collaboration have become crucial to the mission of cultural institutions. Zuchtriegel has demonstrated a keen interest in fostering a sense of ownership of the archaeological heritage of Pompeii in people who live in the surrounding areas, especially the youth from disadvantaged backgrounds. In parallel with the story of M. Venerius Secundio, who was able to show off his social and cultural achievements in a life that started from very modest and difficult circumstances by sponsoring theatrical representations, Zuchtriegel tells us about his very first initiative as director: the staging of an adaptation of Aristophanes’ The Birds, performed by students from local high schools (pp. 182-188) who learned first-hand the value of studying the past (plague war, mismanagement and corruption in 5th century BCE Athens) to recognize and address real life problems of today and tomorrow (after a year-long production in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic, the show premiered in May 2022).
With this emphasis on the principle that archaeology must benefit society, Zuchtriegel prompts academics to double the efforts in reshaping university curricula so that the next generation of Classical archaeologists can be trained in other technical skills that have become essential to the profession, whether to conduct fieldwork projects or perform museum roles (e.g., accounting, human resource management, communication, public engagement and fundraising). Most of all, it challenges us to reflect on the influence that our personal histories have on the way we approach and interpret the past, which in our scholarship is often presented as dry science, and ultimately reconnect with the true passions that motivate our daily work. For those interested in effecting research impact beyond academia, this is a must-read.
Notes
[1] On this work see G. Zuchtriegel, Gabii I. Das Santuario Orientale im Zeitalter der Urbanisierung (Venosa, 2012).
[2] The Minneapolis Institute of Art maintains that the provenance from Stabiae is not supported by evidence and has declined to transfer the work. As a result, Italy’s Ministry of Culture has placed an embargo on loans of works from Italian collections. For the museum’s position see the statement from April 26, 2024: https://new.artsmia.org/press/minneapolis-institute-on-art-statement-on-doryphoros (last accessed October 11, 2025).
[3] See now S. Bernard, “Slavery, Prosperity, and Inequality in Roman Pompeii”, Past & Present (2025), gtaf006. DOI: 10.1093/pastj/gtaf006.
[4] E.g., S. Levin-Richardson, “Domestic violence and servile vulnerability in the House of the Vettii, Pompeii”,
Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies, 66 (2023) Nr.2, 97-110.
[5] On the problematic aspects of the inscription for calculating population density see J. Bodel et al., “Notes on the Elogium of a Benefactor at Pompeii”, Journal of Roman Archaeology, 32 (2019), pp. 154-158.
[6] Accessible at https://pompeiisites.org/category/e-journal-degli-scavi-di-pompei/ (last accessed October 12, 2025)