In recent years the interest in ancient miracles and paradoxography has been on the rise. This has resulted in quite a few volumes discussing the nature of Antiquity’s fascination with miracula, terata, mirabilia, thaumata/thaumasia, paradoxa and the like, focused on single authors,[1] or taking either a more general,[2] or a thematic approach.[3]
Despite its main title, the book under review here is not of that category, showing no interest in definition or theory of the phenomenon at hand, but focusing singularly on the mirabilia themselves. The result is a rich collection of neo-paradoxography, bringing together weird observations, not unlike the way the ancient paradoxographers compiled their material into collections. Apart from a foreword by Philip Matyszak (pp. 11-13), and a preface (pp. 14-16), Chrystal’s introduction amounts to only seven pages (pp. 17-23), not meant to delve into the theoretical background or status quaestionis, or to point the reader in the direction of scholarly literature, but to let the reader in on the particular ancient treasure troves Chrystal has been mining for our entertainment. With footnotes or endnotes lacking, this book is evidently not primarily intended for a scholarly audience.
This leaves the reader with 432 pages filled with all kinds of subjects, arranged in seventy- three chapters, divided over eleven sections: The Sciences, Medicine, Language, Sex and Sexuality, Social Sciences, History and Ethnography, Greek and Roman Society, Mythology, The Military and War, Superstition and the Dark Arts, and Travel and Archeology. Many chapters are short (Chapter 16: “Aphorisms: True or Not So True?”; Chapter 50: “Parking Restrictions and Potholes” are only a single page), whereas others are much longer (Chapter 6: “Medicine” covers a full 47 pages). Many of the longer chapters are divided up in headings, inviting the reader to scan for interesting bits (of which there are many). Neither the (unnumbered) sections nor the (numbered) chapters need really to be read in any specific order. This book very much invites its reader to pick it up, delve into a random chapter, section, or heading, and drink in its marvelous and occasionally lurid contents.
The book’s title, suggesting that this collection will be about both miracles and wondrous stories is not entirely incorrect, but it is slightly misleading. Whereas the paradoxographical element, emphatically mentioned in the book’s preface (p. 14), is certainly present in some chapters (e.g. Chapter 55: “The Unicorn”), most chapters actually contain fun facts, bon mots, extravagant anecdotes, outré wisdom and the like, not seldom in the ‘horrible histories’ vein. There are actually not a lot of real stories (as suggested by the book’s subtitle), and very few miracles. What the book does contain is an endless stream of collected marvels, of a wildly varying nature. As such this book is perhaps best compared to the works of Chrystal’s ancient predecessor Aelian (both with regard to his Varia Historia and his De natura animalium), although it also often reminds us of certain sections by Pliny, and of parts of Aulus Gellius’ Noctes Atticae, Macrobius’ Saturnalia, Valerius Maximus’ Facta et dicta memorabilia, or Athenaeus’ Deipnosophistae (all of which are in fact quoted frequently), all of whom are authors in the literary tradition of miscellanea. Yet quite a few chapters (Chapter 16: “Spells, Curses and Voodoo Dolls”) are much more substantial, not merely presenting interesting tidbits, but actually contextualizing sources and providing more of a synthesis, albeit often in a light-hearted and somewhat sensationalist manner. As such, the book gravitates towards the sections on magic and sex, which are more extensive, better researched, less casual, and have more substantial introductions.
This book’s unevenness, collecting a hotchpotch of trivia in a rather loose manner, may, however, be one of its strong points. Its random nature yields countless surprises, and the reader can hardly guess what is to be expected next: cross-dressing? wet dreams? dung therapy? women who smoke? It’s all there, in chapters widely varying in seriousness and detail. It can certainly not be denied that Chrystal has collected an impressive lot of material, much of which will be unknown to many readers, and all of which is provided with brief but relevant references to classical sources. As Matyszak puts it (p. 11): Chrystal has put in all the hard work of extracting the gems from the sludge for us.
Whether one will enjoy such a book, savouring its fun facts from cover to cover, or grow tired soon of the sometimes slightly juvenile details presented prominently, depends entirely on that reader. The preface by Philip Matyszak is a clear indication of the sort of book we are dealing with, calling to mind Matyszak’s own anecdotal approach to ancient history. Yet as a sourcebook, its presentation reminds the reader of all kinds of fragments, authors and treatises even trained classicists and historians tend to overlook in their appreciation of the ancient world. The seven-page index is welcome, but I would not have minded a more detailed list, considering the extravagant nature of all the fascinating topics addressed. As is to be expected for this audience, there is no index locorum.
A list with suggestions for further reading (pp. 459-460) could be of use for readers interested in more background, but as those readers are actually not pointed to further works on (or even containing) miracula, the references give a rather random impression of either very general or very specific scholarly works. This is a pity, because although the author clearly sees himself as a latter-day representative of the likes of Phlegon of Tralles, Antigonus of Carystus or Heraclitus the Paradoxographer, none of these names can be found in the further reading recommendations.
If you enjoy books like Ben Schott’s Original Miscellany (2002) or William Hartston’s The Encyclopedia of Useless Information (2007), you will probably not be disappointed by Chrystal’s rich Miracula. But it is unfair to reduce this book to a mere collection of trivia. Quite a few chapters offer more than singled out curiosities (compared to McKeown’s A Cabinet of Greek Curiosities, which, although focusing on Greek sources only, is otherwise very similar in its approach[4]), and chapters like these make this book not merely an entertaining, but also an interesting read.
I do, however, take issue with a few points, one of which is the fact that every anecdote, inscription or fragment is presented as evidence, giving the impression that whatever the author has dug up can be taken as proof of what antiquity literally was like, even if this means juxtaposing sources that are separated by ten centuries and stem from very different contexts. Sometimes this matter-of-fact presentation is correct, sometimes less so. To give an example: when the author tells us that Aristophanes in Plato’s Symposium ‘believed’ that there were three types of human (p. 95) this is presented as Aristophanes’ earnest view, passing over the fact that Aristophanes very well knew that this ‘belief’ was his own tongue-in-cheek creation as a highly original, comical (in both senses) and amusing reponse to the challenge set by Phaedrus. Informed readers know this, but a more general audience is to take the author’s words at face value, which leads to certain clichés and semi-true ideas living on, and to a superficiality that is sometimes not as correct as it appears. To give another example: when the author tells the story of Gyges and Candaules from Herodotus, he tells us that Gyges’ wife was called Nyssia, but that detail is a later invention, and is not in Herodotus. It may not be a big deal, but it is a misrepresentation of the sources.
The book is nicely presented. No reference is made to specific editions of classical texts, which is understandable in a book that only presents translations for a wider audience. But the references themselves are often incorrect, referring to e.g. a single line of poetry, while the author is in fact citing three (e.g. p. 33, Works and Days 373) or more (e.g. p. 33, only Works and Days 782 is referenced, but the citation covers vv. 782-791); cf. the reference to Euripides Medea 112, where in fact a translation of 112-115 is cited. Few classicists would call the Greek Anthology a collection of epigrams and ‘songs’ (p. 43). Elsewhere too one gets the impression that the text would have benefitted from a specialist reader in the editing process, as we find asclepeion for asclepieion (p. 49), Danos for Danaos (p. 78), Bogoas for Bagoas (p. 153), Gallai for Galloi (p. 89; the reference is to eunuchs, evidently male), Lystraegones for Laestrygones (p. 438) etc. Occasionally a Greek word is cited (which is good), sometimes with the accent missing (p. 19, p. 91; which is not so good; one feels that one ought to do it correctly or not at all). Other references are inconsistent. A reference to Demosthenes’ Against Neaira is given as 3.122 rather than 122.3. Plutarch’s Table Talk is sometimes referenced by book-chapter (e.g. p. 43), but elsewhere by Stephanus page (e.g. p. 73). A reference to Diogenes Laërtius, Lives of Eminent Philosophers 10 (p. 74) is rather pointless as it does not indicate the full details of book, chapter and line; cf. a reference to Apuleius Metamorphoses 44 (p. 80): again, no book number, and none of the Metamorphoses’ eleven books has a caput 44 anyway. Odysseus’ letter to Calypso in Lucian is said to be from True History 101 (p. 128), which would be hard to trace as all modern editions would require a reference to book 2, chapter 35. References to Galen sometimes have a k attached (presumably referring to K. = Kühn’s edition), sometimes not. One gets the impression that the author has used quite a few old editions with outdated numbering systems, but as he does not mention anything about this, it is hard to tell how these odd references came about. One could argue that this book, aimed at a wider and more general audience, is not to be criticized with regard to such details, but if one includes references, why not pay a little more attention to their details?
For readers less interested in nitpicking and more in marvel upon marvel (upon marvel), Chrystal’s collection will be an entertaining read, a mer à boire of weird ‘stories’, and a source for that which all paradoxographers want you to be: amazed.
Notes
[1] See e.g. Oliver Hellmann, David C. Mirhady, Phaenias of Eresus: Text, Translation, and Discussion. Rutgers University Studies in Classical Humanties vol. 19. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers, 2015 (BMCR 2016.08.43); James McNamara, Victoria Emma Pagán (eds.), Tacitus’ wonders: empire and paradox in ancient Rome. New York: Bloomsbury Academic, 2022 (BMCR 2023.05.10); Arnaud Zucker, Robert Mayhew, Oliver Hellmann (eds.), The Aristotelian Mirabilia and early peripatetic natural science. Rutgers University studies in classical humanities. Abingdon; New York: Routledge, 2024 (BMCR 2024.11.12).
[2] See e.g. Irene Pajón Leyra, Entre ciencia y maravilla: el género literario de la paradoxografía griega. Monografías de filología griega, 21. Zaragoza: Prensas Universitarias de Zaragoza, 2011 (BMCR 2012.06.33); Jessica Lightfoot, Wonder and the Marvellous from Homer to the Hellenistic World, Cambridge Classical Studies, Cambridge: CUP, 2021.
[3] See e.g. George Kazantzidis (ed.), Medicine and Paradoxograpy in the Ancient World. Trends in classics. Supplementary volumes, 81. Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter, 2019; Maria Gerolemou, Recognizing Miracles in Antiquity and Beyond. Trends in classics. Supplementary volumes, 53. Berlin/Boston: De Gruyter, 2018 (BMCR 2019.09.24).
[4] J.C. McKeown, A Cabinet of Greek Curiosities. Strange Tales & Surprising Facts From the Cradle of Western Civilization, Oxford: OUP, 2013.