For slightly over a decade, animal history has assumed a considerable place in the study of the past. This trend builds upon the rise of animal studies and new conceptual tools, such as the notion of hybrid community.[1] The movement also benefits from the current redefinition of relationships between humans and non-humans. It has revitalized our approaches to past cultures, particularly the Greco-Roman world. These studies generally focus on a particular species or groups of species. The dog, of major importance for nearly all human societies,[2] has received particular attention. Notable among these is Cristiana Franco’s pioneering 2004 book, Senza ritegno.[3] Articles by Kenneth Kitchell have also opened a new perspective by integrating advances in canine ethology into the analysis of documentation on dogs in ancient Greece.[4] Katia Margariti, who studied under Kitchell, has embraced these new methods and offers here an anthrozoological study that integrates precise knowledge about dogs and their behaviors with the analysis of ancient images, profoundly enhancing our knowledge of dogs in ancient Athens.[5]
A brief introduction sketches the historiography of the dog in Greek art and defines a corpus of slightly over 2,000 images. These are either sculptures (primarily funerary), or vase paintings, dating from the Archaic and Classical periods. The structure of the book, in twelve chapters, is thematic from the third onwards, with the first two forming an extended introduction. Chapter I (“The dog in ancient Greece”) outlines the framework of cynanthropic relations: hunting dogs, pet dogs, herding dogs, guard dogs. Margariti revisits an established observation, the Greeks’ ambivalent reaction to the character of the dog; its gluttony, potential dangerousness, and scavenging counterbalance its positive characteristics which, in her view, predominate. The second chapter analyzes the composition and biases of the visual corpus (“Depicting the dog in Athenian sculpture and vase painting”). It provides an exposition of different canine breeds, a long-debated subject that raises the question of what one might call a domestic breed before the 18th century. Drawing on Xenophon’s treatise On hunting, Margariti identifies canine breeds in the images. The iconography reveals three major types of dogs: small pet dogs with thick coats and curved tails (Meliteans), larger dogs with athletic bodies and erect ears (hunting dogs), and large dogs intended for guarding (Molossians). It is more difficult to distinguish the hunting dog breeds mentioned in the texts. The author finally analyzes the representations of dogs: indication of sex, coat colors, forms of interspecific relations, recognition of canine postures (such as the play bow and the paw lift), and depiction of leashes and collars.
Chapter 3 (“Dogs in war”) leads to important conclusions, such as that the Athenians did not use dogs in war in the Archaic and Classical periods. Thus, we see practically no dogs in battle scenes. They appear, however, in scenes of warriors’ departures or returns and can be used by painters to convey an emotion that humans refuse to display. Some dogs have ears flattened and tails lowered, manifestations of stress and anxiety. She concludes that sometimes a warrior departed for war in the company of his dog, an additional indication that the presence of animals served to comfort combatants, as they did during World War I.[6] The discussion of dogs as shield devices or crest supports will be particularly useful to readers.
Margariti then turns to hunting (chapter 4: “Dogs in the hunt”), an obligatory topic, since dogs very often figure in hunting scenes, notably in hare hunts. Depictions of boar hunts were introduced later and are dominated by images of the hunt of Meleager. Nets never appear in these tableaux, which allows for emphasis on the dangers that men and dogs face. A dog appears in only one sculpted boar hunt. Hunting can be deduced from some funerary reliefs showing a dog whose deceased companion is armed with a lagobolon.
The fifth chapter (“Dogs and horses, riders and chariots”) confronts dogs with another valued animal: the horse. Dogs more commonly accompany cavalrymen than chariots, but direct interactions between dogs and horses are infrequent. The sixth chapter (“Dogs, athletics, music and education”) concludes that dogs were rarely present at athletic contexts, to judge from the fact that few gymnasium users are accompanied by a dog. The universe of the banquet is the subject of chapter 7 (“Dogs in the symposium and komos”). Dogs are generally held on leashes or wear collars, and are often found lying under a klinê, gnawing on food. Dogs present at banquets were evidently expected to remain calm. In the universe of the banquet and the kômos, Meliteans are frequent. The eighth chapter concerns dogs in erotic scenes (“Dogs and Eros”). They are visible in 20% of these, principally in pederastic contexts. Hunting dogs predominate, expressing a range of values; hunting is a metaphor for seduction and an indication of aristocratic milieu. Margariti notes a small corpus of representations of women accompanied by a large dog, suggesting a possible female practice of keeping dogs for protection.
The substantial chapter 9 (“Dogs and death”) is the only one where funerary reliefs occupy center stage. According to Margariti, dogs appear on more than 16% of these reliefs, where the deceased are usually young and male. Hunting dogs outnumber Meliteans, and it is not rare to see another animal there (bird, horse). Many dogs wear a collar, showing their association with the world of the oikos. Games are frequently depicted, as are other signs of cynanthropic interactions. We see here how the approach by animal enriches traditional conclusions that limited the dog to the status of symbol and stopped, for example, at considerations of the chthonic character of the dog and its link with Hecate.
Chapter 10 (“Dogs and humans”) investigates underrepresented uses of dogs, such as for herding, and their relationships with women or children. The most striking aspect of this chapter is the invisibility of the negative aspect of the dog. The eleventh chapter turns to the links between dogs and the divine (“Dogs, deities and rituals”). Margariti first draws up a table by divinity. While Artemis and Hecate naturally head the list, other associations are more surprising, such as Hermes, to who is attributed with the power to silence dogs. The link with Asclepius is expected, but the association of Dionysus with hunting dogs is difficult to explain. Athena, on the other hand, seems to have kept her distance from dogs. Chapter 12 (“Dogs of myth”) examines the case of mythical dogs: Cerberus and his brother Orthus appear as otherwise ordinary dogs distinguished by their greater size; the outrage to Hector’s body evokes the theme of bodies abandoned to dogs without burial. Few dogs are present on images drawn from the Odyssey, and Odysseus’s famous Argos does not appear in Attic iconography. In the case of Actaeon, his dogs are not shown as half-wild beings; the fact that many wear a collar underscores their domestic character. One vase seems to associate these dogs with the lyssa, the aggressive madness that can seize dogs. The author closes the chapter with discussion of the weak association of the dog with the mythical universe.
The conclusions recap the essential findings of the book. Margariti emphasizes the differences between written and iconographic data. She also remarks that, after the horse, the dog is the subject of the greatest number of animal representations on vases and that the hunting dog appears in the foreground whereas working or stray dogs are almost absent. Dogs are also deeply integrated into the human sphere, as signaled by their frequent collars and leashes. When the gender of the animal is represented, it is as often female as male, whereas texts largely place dogs on the feminine side. An important contribution here is to highlight the differences among painters in their interest in dogs, as some paint them precisely and are sensitive to their postures and their emotions.
The book terminates with a catalog of the objects. A bibliography offers a panorama of publications on dogs in ancient Greece. In a section entitled Notes, Margariti provides written sources and bibliography on important topics in cynanthropic relations (collar and leashes for example). There is a table devoted to dog breeds, another to dog names. Graphs classify representations of dogs according to vase shapes, their themes, and their painters. Some plates compare canine postures depicted on vases with those observed in life.
Overall, Margariti has produced a book that is not only carefully crafted but also of high scientific quality. It addresses a large number of subjects: animal history, but also art history, iconography, studies on religion and society. Vase specialists, for example, will benefit from this book and find new ideas even on famous works (François Vase, p. 71ff.). The author emphasizes the presence of humorous images, such as dogs defecating (p. 118) or sniffing the odor left on the ground by a libation. Margariti is attentive to unusual scenes and canine postures. She notes the function of dogs as space fillers or visual pointers (p. 234). All this nourishes the debate on the status of images and suggests a certain naturalism. Naturalism, realism: these words recur often in Margariti’s writing. This is not, however, a renunciation of methods of analysis that assert that the purpose of images is not merely to represent reality, but an enrichment of these same methods. They oblige us to put ourselves in the place of those who produced these images and those who looked at them. It is clear that some painters or sculptors had real knowledge of dogs. Margariti is also clear on this point: only some displayed such knowledge; others painted impossible canine postures.
Indeed, this is one of the merits of approaching the past through animals: of course, it restores a place to long overlooked actors and renews reflection on many aspects of past societies. Such a book will show that this history is useful, even necessary. Margariti, through her positioning, reveals another advance in historical studies with animals; reducing the latter to the status of symbols, as has long been done,[7] means renouncing the measurement of all that they are. Symbols they certainly are, but not always as much as we have wanted to believe and often, not only that. This insight opens many fascinating avenues; remarks such as that on p. 158 on gestures of affection open the possibility of historicizing the study of anthrozoological relations. The author insists on the interactions of dogs not only with humans but also with other animals and strives to go beyond the necessarily very anthropocentric nature of the documentation.
Such are the major merits of this work, which is moreover abundantly illustrated throughout. It fully deserves its place in libraries and on the tables of researchers, and not only specialists in animal history.
Notes
[1] C. Stépanoff and J.-D. Vigne (eds.), Hybrid Communities. Biosocial Approaches to Domestication and Other Trans-Species Relationships, London-New York, 2019.
[2] The cultures occupying Tasmania are an interesting counterpoint: the dog only arrived there with English colonization at the beginning of the 19th century (J. Boyce, “Canine revolution: the social and environmental impact of the introduction of the dog to Tasmania,” Environmental History, 11, 2006, pp. 102–129).
[3] Senza ritegno: il cane e la donna nell’imaginario della Grecia antica, Bologna 2004, published in English as Shameless. The Canine and the Feminine in Ancient Greece, tr. Matthew Fox, Oakland California, 2014.
[4] E.g., K. Kitchell, “Seeing the Dog: Naturalistic Canine Representations from Greek Art,” Arts, 9, 14, published 30 January 2020, doi:10.3390/arts9010014.
[5] One need only compare it with the older methodologies in C. Mainoldi, L’image du loup et du chien dans la Grèce ancienne d’Homère à Platon, Strasbourg, 1984 or S. Lilja, Dogs in Ancient Greek Poetry, Helsinki, 1976.
[6] One also thinks of Alexander accompanied not only by Bucephalus but also by a dog he loved, Peritas.
[7] As recently as the book by S. Böhm, Tiersymbolik im archaischen Griechenland. Analogie und Ambivalenz im Bild, Regensburg, 2024, animals do not seem to be genuinely considered as anything other than symbols.