Making and Unmaking Ancient Memory

De Marre, Martine and Rajiv K. Bhola, eds., Making and Unmaking Ancient Memory, (New York: Routledge, 2022). 9780367371449.

Reviewed by Stephanie Murphy, University of North Texas, Stephaniemurphy3@my.unt.edu.

The past few decades have seen a growing interest in the field of historiography.¹ While previous academic generations have asked the questions of “how” and “from what sources” ancient authors composed their works (with the German tradition of Quellenforschung having reigned supreme in questions of historiography), newer generations of scholars are now asking “why” and “for what reason” ancient authors composed their works. Making and Unmaking Ancient Memory asks “why” our sources have remembered their material in the way that they have. How does one’s cultural, social, or political circumstances affect how the past is remembered? How do ancient authors use writing to affect how events or people are remembered? How do physical artifacts such as monuments and coins serve to create or manipulate a larger social memory? What does an author’s account of the past tell us about the author’s own time? Making and Unmaking Ancient Memory is an excellent stepping stone into such questions. Born out of the Australian Research Council Discovery Project “Memories of Utopia: Destroying the Past to Create the Future,” held in Pretoria on 7–10 November 2018, the editors have succeeded in their goal of fruitful collaboration between often independently studied fields, with contributions from fields such as military history, literary criticism, and reception studies. 

Perhaps the greatest strength of this essay collection is its wide range of topics. While each chapter uses memory making as its touchstone, a variety of sources are analyzed. Stevenson and Varner, for example, rely heavily on physical evidence and space, while Evans and Ziche, for example, demonstrate how we can use memory studies to bring a new perspective to traditional historical narratives. By having a variety of source analyses, this book can appeal to a wide range of scholars who are interested in the topic of memory creation and alteration. The chapters are organized both topically and chronologically, with the last two chapters bridging into the modern era. The inclusion of the final two chapters, which examine reception in modernity, serve as a reminder of our own selves, as scholars: we, too, are actively involved in the making and unmaking of memory.

As is common in collected volumes, the first chapter serves as a road map for the entire work. Gillian Clark sets the stage by reflecting on the function and purpose of such a book, that is, how historians are involved in the creation, preservation, and manipulation of memory. Unfortunately, I had hoped for more from the introduction. There is a lack of any sort of literature review or state of the field regarding the study of memory and antiquity. A discussion on how the book’s scope overlaps and differs from other historiographical studies would have been useful.

The subsequent chapters in the book are grouped categorically (“Political Legacies,” “Religious Identities,” and “Literary Traditions”) yet are also arranged chronologically. Chapters two and three both deal with Hellenistic-era Syracuse. Chapter two, “The generalship of Dionysius I and Dionysius II of Syracuse: memory unmade” by Richard Evans, asks why some leaders are considered successful in the dominant historical narrative while others (such as the Dionysii) are not. Evans has his work cut out for him as he tries to tease data from what scant remains of Hellenistic historians we have. He convincingly argues that the later historical memory of the Dionysii as “unsuccessful” is an intentional result of regime change. Frances Pownall’s essay, “The making and unmaking of the memory of Gelon of Syracuse,” is an excellent follow-up to Evans’s essay, as it deals with the same time period, geographic region, and many of the same sources. Pownall, however, examines how rulers (specifically Gelon and Hieron of Syracuse) intentionally and consciously manipulate memory to validate their own position. 

The next essay, “Alexander in Jerusalem: constructing a ‘Jewish Life’ for Alexander the Great” by Adrian Tronson, is a nice chronological segue to the Roman era. Tronson takes on the monument that is the memory of Alexander the Great and examines an account in Josephus which describes the Macedonian as having visited Jerusalem. While he tells us that we may never be able to craft an accurate account of Alexander’s movements in the region, we can unpack and analyze what significance Alexander’s visiting of the holy city has for Josephus and his audience. Tronson sides with Josephus’s account as generally factual but reminds us that “as in the historical books of the Old Testament, historical fact, theology, and eschatology are combined in the Antiquitates” (p. 62).

The next three chapters take place in a fully Roman context. I will review chapters five and seven alongside each other as they are methodologically similar. In chapter five, “The Forum of Augustus: reshaping collective memory about war and the state,” Tom Stevenson examines space and monumentality to analyze how the Forum Augustum served to remind Romans of the Julio-Claudians, concluding that the iconography and design of the forum not only celebrated Augustus but was to be a reminder that Rome had always been dependent on the Julian family for victory. Chapter seven, “Monster or Martyr? Contesting Nero’s memory in Rome” employs a similar analysis of physical data. Eric Varner argues that despite the sanctions against it, Nero’s memory was still very much alive because of the lengths to which Nero went to craft a grandiose image of himself during his reign. Varner then gives a history of Nero’s memory from antiquity to the modern era, demonstrating how the emperor came to be remembered as evil personified and detailing subsequent attempts to rehabilitate his reputation.

Chapter six, “An age of post-truth politics? Making and unmaking memory in Pliny’s Panegyricus,” by Martin Szöke is an engaging example of how we can step outside of the traditional scholarly debate and offer new ways to understand our sources. Szöke tells us that scholars have struggled with Pliny’s assertion that he halted his career when Domitian’s true nature was revealed, either calling Pliny a bald-faced liar or reinterpreting Pliny’s career path to match his statement. Szöke, instead, argues that Pliny’s assertion is part of a larger negotiation that his peers are engaged in as they try to cope with their lives under Domitian. He concludes that Pliny is certainly manipulating the truth, and although he’s likely not fooling his audience, no one is going to call him out because his peers are all likewise rewriting their own histories under the new regime.

The next series of essays are collected under the heading “Religious Identities.” In chapter eight, “Misremembering Constantine in Eusebius and Zosimus,” Hartmut Ziche gets right to the heart of the entire collection as he challenges the division of history and memory into two different methodological lenses. Rather, for the ancient writers, the two functioned in tandem. Thus, he sets out to demonstrate this truth through his analysis of Constantine as remembered by Eusebius and Zosimus.

The next three essays focus on John Chrysostom, with respect both to how he creates memories and how he himself was remembered. In chapter nine, “Remembering dystopia: re-reading Chrysostom’s homily On the Holy Martyr Babylas through a lens of disgust,” Wendy Mayer argues that Chrysostom sought to polemically invert Julian’s criticisms of Christianity by redefining what is considered pollution. Chris De Wet’s “Martyrdom and the memorialisation of John Chrysostom In Ps.-Martyrius’ Funerary Speech in Praise of John Chrysostom” looks at the political and social motivations behind the presentation of Chrysostom as an imitatio Christi. In chapter eleven, “The emperor’s floor and the naked wife: Chrysostom’s retelling of imperial history in In Philippenses hom. 16 and the fate of Fausta,” Katherin Papadopoulos argues that the cultural memory of imperial disasters is more important for Chrysostom’s homiletic purpose than that historical accuracy of his account.

The final collection of essays are grouped under the heading “Literary Traditions.” Chapter twelve, “‘Lest we forget’: inventions and their memory on the Greek tragic scene,” is the single exception to the chronological structure of the essays. Francesco Lupi examines the representation of the inventor in Greek tragedy, arguing that there is a pattern of reflecting on the moral neutrality of inventions: while tragedians acknowledge the role of inventions in advancing human progress, they also emphasize that humans have to choose whether to use progress for good or evil.

Chapters thirteen and fifteen, Hubertus Drobner’s “Treacherous transmission: the case of Augustine’s Sermons 151–156” and Sean Moreland’s “‘Some power unseen’: Gothic agency, god, and creation in John Mason Good’s Lucretius,” both deal with reception studies. Drobner examines the history of the assumed chronology of Augustine’s sermons, while Moreland demonstrates how John Mason Good was influenced by 19th-century politics and culture in his translation of De rerum natura. Both essays seek to understand how we have remembered antiquity.

Chapter fourteen, “Cultural memory and classical education in late antique Gaul” by Alison John, is a fascinating intersection of memory and identity. By examining the changing perceptions of education among Roman Gauls in late antiquity, she shows how education shifted from a means of political power to a personal touchstone for Roman identity as the empire’s stability in the region began to waver.

The final chapter, Suzanne Sharland’s “‘Fiery color and splendid concentration of passion’: the Classical recollections of Oscar Wilde’s poem Charmides,” completes this collection. Essentially functioning as a case study on reception, Sharland demonstrates how Wilde, a gifted classicist, used his own classically inspired writings to push against the 19th-century understanding of Greek culture as solely rational.

This book is geared toward academics within Classics (and its related fields). Because these essays assume a general familiarity with the timeline and sources of antiquity, this book is best for academics and graduate students. It is pedagogically useful at the graduate level as a demonstration of how Classics can be expanded through the incorporation of modern historical methodologies (such as memory studies).

I believe that every scholar of antiquity can find gems of insight relevant to their own field within these pages. For those interested in fragmentary work or manuscript history, I recommend chapters two, three, and twelve. Scholars interested in questions of identity should read chapters four, six, ten, twelve, and fourteen. Chapter six fits well into the recent explorations of trauma and antiquity. Scholars of material culture would enjoy chapters five and seven. Those looking at memory during large cultural shifts (such as the spread of Christianity) would be interested in chapters six, nine, eleven, and fourteen. For the intersection of politics and memory, I recommend reading chapters two, three, six, ten, and fifteen. To those working with foundational authors (such as Lucretius or Augustine), I recommend chapters four, six, eight, thirteen, and fifteen. Finally, those exploring reception should read chapters seven, thirteen, fifteen, and sixteen.

Overall, this book is successful in its goal of exploring the dynamics of memory from a variety of perspectives. As the editors highlight in the preface, in an age of such buzzwords as fake news and alternative facts, studies of how and why memory is made and unmade are relevant not only for our research, but for how we understand our own time. 

Table of Contents

1. Introduction: making and unmaking ancient Mediterranean memory / Gillian Clark (1–7)
Political Legacies
2. The generalship of Dionysius I and Dionysius II of Syracuse: memory unmade / Richard Evans (9–33)
3. The making and unmaking of the memory of Gelon of Syracuse / Frances Pownall (34–47)
4. Alexander in Jerusalem: constructing a ‘Jewish Life’ for Alexander the Great, Josephus AJ xi 302–343 / Adrian Tronson (48–72)
5. The Forum of Augustus: reshaping collective memory about war and the state / Tom Stevenson (73–94)
6. An age of post-truth politics? Making and unmaking memory in Pliny’s Panegyricus / Martin Szöke (95–113)
7. Monster or martyr? Contesting Nero’s memory in Rome / Eric Varner (114–45)
Religious Identities
8. Misremembering Constantine in Eusebius and Zosimus / Hartmut Ziche (147–68)
9. Remembering dystopia: re-reading Chrysostom’s homily On the Holu Martyr Babylas through the lens of disgust / Wendy Mayer (196–81)
10. Martyrdom and the memorialisation of John Chrysostom: in Ps.-Martyrius’ Funerary Speech in Praise of John Chrysostom / Chris L. de Wet (182–95)
12. The emperor’s floor and the naked wife: Chrysostom’s retelling of imperial history in In Philippenses hom. 16 and the fate of Fausta / Katherin Papadopoulos (196–219)
Literary Traditions
12. ‘Lest we forget’: inventions and their memory on the Greek tragic scene / Francesco Lupi (221–39)
13. Treacherous transmission: the case of Augustine’s Sermons 151–156 / Hubertus R. Drobner (240–55)
14. Cultural memory and classical education in late antique Gaul / Alison John (256–72)
15. ‘Some power unseen’: Gothic agency, god, and creation in John Mason Good’s Lucretius / Sean Moreland (273–96)
16. ‘Fiery color and splendid concentration of passion’: the Classical recollections of Oscar Wilde’s poem Charmides / Suzanne Sharland (297–316)

Notes

1. Most notable in this field is John Marincola, whose works include:John Marincola, ed. Greek and Roman Historiography (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011); Christina Kraus, John Marincola, and Christopher Pelling, eds., Ancient Historiography and Its Contexts: Studies in Honour of A. J. Woodman (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010); John Marincola, ed., A Companion to Greek and Roman Historiography (Malden, MA, and Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2007); John Marincola, Authority and Tradition in Ancient Historiography (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).

Discussion

1. I appreciate the variety of source material in this volume, yet the focus is mostly on literature. What are the most potent types of material culture for the study of memory and why?

It is not so much a matter of medium as it is encoding. Whatever the type of material culture, it is important to take into account the worldviews, ideologies, argumentative elements, etc. embedded in those artefacts, especially where collective memory, value systems, and so forth are being challenged and/or reconceptualised. For this reason, literature is perhaps the easiest to work with, specifically because it is contextually rich. 

On the side of material culture, the most powerful type of visual material for the study of memory is probably that which was commissioned and created specifically for the purpose of evoking certain connotations—propaganda, in short. Reliefs on coins, triumphal arches, statues, and so on conferred legitimacy on rulers and their family line across the ancient world for many decades, which meant that they often had an interest in preserving such artefacts.

Thank you for this clarification and expansion of material culture and memory.

2. You mention that the wide range of essays is intended to highlight the opportunities for collaboration between scholars of different areas of study. Military history, trauma studies, and reception studies, to name a few, can all be seen intersecting with memory studies in this collection. Are there more methodologies or fields of study that you would like to see scholars bring to the field of memory studies?

For the reorientation of collective memory, approaches that have a strong foundation in post-colonialism and decolonisation studies would be extremely interesting, since, as we’ve indicated above, cultural memory is often shaped by those in power. Also, any work with a focus on negotiating identities, be it personal, racial, religious, or the like. This approach is already addressed in this volume, particularly Early Christian studies, and such investigations are quite productive for understanding the ontologies and epistemologies of actors or groups, how they visualise themselves, and how they (re)invent themselves and others. However, these insights do not always extend to the impact on collective memory, which would be a good dimension to include.

Additionally, the studies in our volume are all qualitative studies, and a quantitative study (for example, in the field of epigraphy) could also provide some thought-provoking results. Discourse analysis has also been a popular approach to memory studies, as can be seen in the two volumes of Exploring Latin: Structures, Functions, Meaning, edited by Pultrová and Vaníková (2024), and there is still a lot of work that can be done in this area. 

Otherwise, media studies, also referred to as the “technology of memory,” come to mind for fruitful engagement with memory studies, although that has been tackled in a few of the chapters in the volume.

I appreciate your mention of post-colonialism/decolonization as another collaborative field, especially considering the way Classics has often been used to justify modern imperialist agendas. Thank you for thoughtful response, as I think many readers (especially those new to memory studies) will benefit from this fuller picture of memory studies and antiquity.

3. In your preface, you mention how alternative facts and fake news are not new phenomena and are relevant to the study of making and unmaking memory throughout history. Can you expand more on how you see memory studies such as this intersecting with our own modern discussions of reality and facts?

The heightened attention to the subjectivity of reality in the political discourse of recent years certainly lent inspiration for the contributions in this volume. Individuals and groups continually (re)invent themselves and (re)interpret the world through their experiences, worldviews, ideologies, and missions, and this is true for ancient peoples as it is today. Interpretation, whether of today’s newspaper article or the Histories of Tacitus, is about critical engagement with the evidence and recognising the subjectivity of any promulgated memory as a particular perspective rather than as facts. Historiography is not objective, and the interrelationships of facts (and therefore reality) are constructed. The mechanics and impact of this is something we do not acknowledge enough. So, if anything, this volume highlights (albeit, in an ancient context) how this is commonplace, how anything can act as a vehicle of meaning, and how such artefacts and (re)presentations can be deconstructed and analysed using different approaches. Today, the largest challenge to “reality and facts” taking place that would be relevant in the context of memory studies is, with a slightly different bent: generative AI, which has considerable potential to influence, perpetuate, and disrupt hegemonic discourse, even if it is simply assembling “facts” contained in its datasets and not actually creating anything new.

I appreciate your continual emphasis on subjectivity and memory. Your mention of AI is particularly thought provoking because, as you mention, even “simply assembling facts” has power. What facts are selected or omitted, how those facts are presented, what connections are explicitly or implicitly made has power and influences cultural discourse. In a world where we have such easy access to so much data, it is easy to forget that our own memories, experiences, worldview, etc. directly influence how we construct our own realities.