The Late Antique Podcast #5: Settling the Barbarians

This is my fifth podcast and its accompanying script. Two notes, firstly this episode is adapted heavily from a post I wrote on my old blog. It is one of my few posts that stand up on it and so it seemed suitable for a podcast covering it. Secondly, I have decided to change the name of my podcast from the The Early Medieval Podcast to The Late Antique Podcast. The reasoning behind this being that after doing five episodes, with all of them focusing on Late Antiquity, it makes sense to fit this niche.

Podcast:

Script:

The debate surrounding the settlement of the barbarians in the Western Roman Empire is one of the most hotly contested issues of the Late Antique period. This has been particularly apparent since the publication of Walter Goffart’s 1980 book Barbarians and Romans, A.D 418-584: The Techniques of Accommodation. Before this, the consensus on the settlement of the barbarians was mainly based around the Roman quartering system of Hospitalitas. This consensus, developed from Gaupp’s 1844 work, stated that barbarians received shares of land that had been divided into three. This was an extension of a law from the Theodosian Code describing the practice of billeting Roman troops on civilian land (Hospitalitas). Consequently,this implied that the settlements involved a physical transfer of land. Goffart, starting with Ostrogothic Italy, offered a radical departure to this, suggesting that instead of receiving land barbarian settlers were given a third of the usual tax revenues, specifically put aside for them. This was based on two key terms found in Cassiodorus’ Variae. The first being illatio tertiarum, previously this had been considered as a tax paid by those who were not currently hosting a Goth. He now argued this must be understood as referring to the aforementioned diverted and general tax revenue. The second term was millenarrii which Goffart believed referred to a unit of tax assessment that funded the payments made to the Goths, before this most interpretations thought this term referred to a commander of 1000 men.  Goffart was therefore arguing that barbarians were not given or rewarded with a share of land, but instead with a share of the normal tax revenues of the state.

With this podcast I hope to show that the large difference between the ‘land’ and ‘tax’ views in the debate can mainly be ascribed to the highly scant and inconclusive nature of the evidence. In essence, it is a historiographical conundrum that raises questions about how the historian should interpret and use evidence. This is not a new point, Goffart himself saw the implications of his argument for historians when he wrote ‘what is at stake in all this not one’s sympathy or antipathy towards barbarians, Germans or Goths, rather a conception of how history on the modern marvel may be legitimately be assembled and written’. However, I believe it is a seriously underdeveloped part of the discussion surrounding the settlements. Secondly, by doing this it will become clear that this debate is too centred around finding a single explanatory model for the barbarian settlement. It is often in danger of becoming mechanistic by trying to apply a single model to different geographic and political contexts. More nuanced interpretations of the barbarian settlements do exist, for example Halsall has already made the case for moving beyond the ‘land’ vs ‘tax’ debate. In fact, Goffart himself sought to address some of the issues present in his argument when he returned to the debate in 2006, for example stating that ‘land’ could have had multiple meanings. I will extend this discussion of the historiographical aspect of this debate in three sections, by focusing on successively on the settlement of the Ostrogoths, Visigoths and Burgundians in the Western Empire.

Settlement of the Ostrogoths in Italy

Goffart, when working out the technicalities of barbarian settlement, started with Ostrogothic Italy. This was because, he argued, that the evidence for this area was the most contemporary and detailed. One of his first steps was to try and demolish the evidence for a landed allotment found in Procopius’ History of the Wars. This is a key step, as if Procopius is taken at face value a ‘landed’ arrangement is shown quite clearly.  Procopius states ‘by giving a third part of the land to the barbarians, and in this way gaining their allegiance more firmly, he [Odoacer] held the supreme power for nearly ten years’. This of course is referring to the predecessor in Italy to the Ostrogothic king Theodoric and a supposed grant of land. Goffart proposes a number of reasons to distrust this statement. Firstly, that Procopius was from the Eastern Roman Empire and wished to describe Odoacer as a tyrant, with him also respecting Theodoric. The handing over of lands to the barbarians  of course being seen as a negative act. Secondly, he also suggests another possibility, that Procopius is criticising the Roman practice of co-operating with barbarians. These criticisms of Procopius are quite valid and even some of Goffart’s major opponents such as Sam Barnish distrust this statement as evidence of a landed settlement. Some such as Peter Heather, in an article on Gothic ideology, have suggested we should not be too quick to dismiss Procopius as a source. The debate around whether we should trust Procopius is in essence historiographical, raising the question about how much trust we should put in a source, and how literal we should take it.

Goffart then, as shown in the introduction, goes to use Cassiodorus’ Variae to develop his theory for the mechanics of barbarian settlement. Overall, his thesis is supported very well by the evidence found in these letters. Goffart’s strongest piece of evidence is perhaps Variae 2:17, in which Theodoric instructs the local authorities of Trent to cancel the taxes for land given to the Priest Butila. According to Goffart, this letter states that prior to the assignment to Butila, the land was subject to ordinary taxation, but once he received it became tax free. Now in a possession of a Goth, the tax revenue, the illatio usually set aside for the Goths, was no longer necessary. Goffart also uses Variae 5:27 to support his thesis for the settlement of Italy. Hodgkin’s translation states that it orders the captains of the thousands of the men of Picenum and Samnium, suggesting that Gothic soldiers who served in the field should not lose their reward. Goffart takes a different interpretation of this passage suggesting that the term millenae refers not to a captain of the thousands, but the collective term to which all the Goths in these provinces are referred to as part of the process of receiving an annual tax revenue. The Variae can therefore be used to support Goffart’s thesis and yet at same doing so leaves us with even more questions about how we should approach the sources for the settlement of the Goths.

Different viewpoints in the Hospitalitas debate can often hinge on an interpretation of a single term or sentence in sources such as the Variae. This of course can be problematic, should we take the meaning of the texts literal? Likewise, can a word mean something completely different in the context of another source? Furthermore, Goffart seems to place more trust in Cassiodorus than Procopius, but is his reasoning valid? As shown by Patrick Amory the Variae themself often had an ideological purpose. What I am wanting to show by raising these questions here is that the debate on barbarian settlement, as it is based on technicalities and often small pieces of evidence, acts as a focal point for discussion on how history should be carried out.

While Procopius and the Variae may be considered as direct pieces of evidence on the settlement of the Ostrogoths in Italy, there are a number of practical reasons and pieces of external evidence to suggest that a landed settlement in Italy is unlikely. If a landed assignment was made in Italy, the aristocracy would have deprived themselves of their own land and also their wealth. There is little evidence for this or any unrest and the idea that a landed allotment would have been favourable to the aristocracy if a land grant was the case does not seem reasonable. Furthermore, the fact that we can say barbarians owned land does not necessarily prove that they received it as part of a settlement agreement. Settlers could have used their income from the tax in order to buy land. This once again raises a historical issue. In the context of Italy, Goffart’s thesis seems the most practical in contrast to the greater harm a landed settlement could have caused to the aristocracy. However, these assumptions are based on the absence of evidence or pragmatism, they are speculative even if it appears there are good reasons to believe in them.. Once again, the debate over the settlement of the barbarians in the Western Roman Empire forces us to encounter questions about how we should approach  evidence and whether there is room for inferences ‘around’ or ‘outside’ the sources.

Settlement of the Visigoths


Whereas, a tax based reward seems more likely for the settlement of the Ostrogoths in Italy, it is harder to prove this for the settlement of the Visigoths in Southern Gaul. Halsall suggests that the restricted reading for their settlement (and also for the Burgundians) makes Goffart’s thesis more plausible. This is where I would make a departure and suggest that the absence of evidence actually makes a landed settlement more likely. Nevertheless, I still aim to avoid a general or ‘mechanistic’ view of settlement in the Roman Empire, emphasising a landed settlement in this instance only because of the particular context of the Visigothic settlement.

One of the major sources for Visigothic settlement is the fifth-century Code of Euric, which is only accessible through the seventh-century Visigothic Code. One can immediately identify that this poses lots of problems about whether we can trust the source and it is easy to see why Goffart leaves it to after his discussion of Italy. Nevertheless, there are a number of statements here that imply a landed settlement over a tax-based solution, even if they do so in a sketchy fashion. In 1:1:17 the codedescribes the process of returning land to Romans from which they had been deprived, this seems to imply physical ownership rather than a unit of tax assessment. 10:1:8-9 presumes that disputes would arise over land ownership, but there is an absence of any specific references to differences between Romans and barbarians. 8:5:5 refers to the fact that travellers may have used land that has not been closed in and could be making a reference to the Roman system of hospitalitas. The Code of Euric and the Visigothic Code are therefore highly problematic when it comes to discussing the settlement of the Visigoths in Gaul, even if there are hints at a landed settlement. With the evidence being so scarce, we are forced to ask if the external context and evidence can be used to try and understand the mechanics of barbarian settlement.

Perhaps, the most convincing reason to believe that a landed settlement would have been likely in Gaul is because the disadvantages of doing so would not have been as prominent, in comparison to Italy. Most historians agree that the area the Visigoths settled in was experiencing some sort of crisis. Kulikowksi suggests the settlement of the Visigoths in in Aquitania II meant that the areas that had recently supported usurpation were flanked by the Imperial capital, Arles and the Goths. Burns suggests the settlement must be understood in the context of Constantius trying to stabilise Gaul and Spain. The use of combined Roman and Gothic garrisons in the latter proved to be a bad idea, so the Visigoths, according to Burns, were settled back in Southern Gaul. Nixon has also used a range of literary sources to show the turmoil present in this area at the time. Therefore, while historians do not agree on what exactly happened, it is clear that Gaul during the period of Visigothic settlement was experiencing some sort of political crisis. A landed settlement of the Visigoths in Southern Gaul therefore makes sense as a means of trying to bring the area back into the fold of the Imperial administration. This was perhaps short-sighted, for example the Visigothic King Theodoric II would later support Avitus in his bid to become emperor. Nevertheless, a landed and physical settlement might have been seen as a politically viable move at the time to recover a ‘lost’ territory.

This of course once again raises the question of whether we should use indirect evidence- that which does not mention the terms or mechanics of barbarian settlement specifically- to help solve our historical conundrum. As we can see very different conclusions can be made from this sort of evidence when we compare the settlement of Gaul to the settlement of Italy. This problem is made more difficult by the number of references in Gallic sources of the period that could be used to imply a landed settlement, such as those in the works of Sidonius Apollinaris and the Gallic Chronicle of 452. We must be careful when using these as they usually detail individual disturbances or settlements.  All this forces to ask whether it is possible and to collate fragmentary and ambiguous pieces of evidence to create a wider narrative about the barbarian settlements. As can be seen much of this will come to down to how the individual historian decides to approach the question of settlement and their choice of what is and what is not worthy evidence. Perhaps, what we can learn from all this historiographical pondering is that discussing the settlement of the barbarians does not have an easy answer and that trying to apply a mechanistic solution risks being overly simplistic.

Settlement of the Burgundians


The settlement of the Burgundians in the Western Empire equally raises many questions about how should approach the Hospitalitas Debate. Once again here, like the settlement of the Visigoths, the evidence is once again sketchy. The main source for a landed settlement in this instance comes from the Burgundian Code, in particularly titles 54 and 55 which belong to the Liber Consitutionum of 417. Much like the evidence from the Visigothic code, some of the titles imply a landed settlement quite heavily. Title 54 states ‘It was commanded at the time that the order was issued whereby our people should receive one-third of the slaves, and two thirds of the land’. The use of slaves concurrently suggests the reference to land in this instance could imply physical ownership. It is difficult to identify the idea of a tax revenue instead of land here, when there is also a clause containing information on a ‘physical property’ such as a slave. In title 54 there is also a reference to barbarians and ‘which hospitality assigned him’. This is using the language of hospitalitas, which is mostly not present in the evidence found in Cassiodorus’ Variae. Similarly, this clause also states that land should not be taken contrary to the ‘gift’. The language used here suggests it was a ‘one-off’ gift and it is difficult to suggest that this could mean a permanent tax revenue.

Title 55 also mentions the law of hospitality. Which once again raises the question of whether this should be interpreted as meaning temporary or permanent settlement. Perhaps, one of the strongest indicators of some sort of land based arrangement comes with the statement ‘let the guests of the contestants not be involved in the quarrel’. Once again it is difficult to see how this language of guests or hospitality could be interpreted meaning as something other than a land settlement. However, there is not much to go on within the code to show if this is arrangement permanent or temporary. We are also faced with another dilemma, can we put trust in the source that what it is saying is accurate? Like the Visigothic code titles 54 and 55 of the Burgundian text survive in much later copies. At the same time it provides some of the most detailed evidence on the process of settlement for the Burgundians. This of course, once again shows, how the debate surrounding barbarian settlement brings is ultimately of historiographical concern, ultimately about how one should approach the evidence that is available.

A number of writers and chroniclers also point towards the possibility of a landed settlement. Propsper of Aquitaine and Hydatius describe the handing over of land. Wheareas, The Gallic Chronicle of 452 describes how Sapaudia was given to the remnants of the Burgundians , who had been defeated by Aetius, to be divided with the  native inhabitants. Wood has highlighted a number of problems with this source, for example its chronology is misplaced and the exact location of Sapaudia is unknown. Therefore, much like with the Visigothic settlement of Gaul evidence external to the law codes is fragmentary and is difficult to use when trying to discuss the settlement of the Burgundians. However, we should be careful in making direct analogies between these two settlements, despite the evidence initially appearing quite similar and with it leaning towards the ‘land’ side of the Hospitalitas debate.The evidence found in the Burgundian Code is quite different to that found the Visigothic Code, titles 54 and 55 more directly refer to the settlement of the Burgundians, whereas the Visigothic Code tends to only refer to the process of settlement by implication. The point of course here is that we should be careful when approaching evidence and trying to find an easy ‘fit-all’ solution to barbarian settlement.

Conclusion


This podcast has not necessarily tried to solve any of the problems regarding the settlement of the barbarians in the Western Roman Empire, but it has tried to show how the debate has a historiographical aspect. It forces the historian to question how they approach and how they should use the sources at their disposal, as vastly different interpretations have derived from a limited base of evidence, due to the different ways it has been approached. Secondly, it has shown that because of these varied problems it would be wrong to develop a ‘copy and paste’ mechanism in trying to understand the settlement of the barbarians. We cannot simply create a general explanation for barbarian settlement with the evidence available and so focusing on the individual contexts of the Ostrogothic, Visigothic and Burgundian accommodations is not only a necessity, but also good historical practice. 

Bibliography

Primary Sources:

Cassiodorus, Variae translated in The Letters of Cassiodorus: Being A Condensed Translation Of The Variae Epistolae Of Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus Senator translated by Thomas Hodgkin. London: Henry Frowde, 1886.

Chronica Gallica of 452 in From Roman to Merovingian Gaul: A Reader translated by Alexander C. Murray. Letchworth: Broadview Press, 2000.

Lex Burgundionum in The Burgundian Code: Book of Constitutions or Law of Gundobad Additional Enactments translated by Katherine F. Drew. Philadelphia: University of Pennysylvania Press, 1972.

Lex Visigothorum in The Visigothic Code translated by Samuel P. Scott. Boston: The Boston Book Company, 1910.

Procopius, The History of the Wars translated by H.B Dewing. Accesed 15/06/2018 at http://www.gutenberg.org/files/20298/20298-h/20298-h.htm.  

Secondary Sources:

Amory, Patrick. People and Identity in Ostrogothic Italy, 489-554. Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Barnish, Sam. J. B. “Taxation, Land and Barbarian Settlement in the Western Empire.” Papers of the British School at Rome 54 (1986): 170-95.

Burns, Thomas S. “The Settlement of 418.” In Fifth-century Gaul: A Crisis of Identity?, edited by John Drinkwater and Hugh Elton, 53-63. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Goffart, Walter. Barbarian Tides The Migration Age and the Later Roman Empire. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2006.

Goffart, Walter A. Barbarians and Romans, A.D. 418-584 : The Techniques of Accommodation. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980.

Halsall, Guy. “The Technique of Barbarian Settlement in the Fifth Century: A Reply to Walter Goffart.” Journal of Late Antiquity 3, no. 1 (2010).

Halsall, Guy. Barbarian Migrations and The Roman West, 376-568. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005.

Heather, Peter. “Merely an Ideology? Gothic Identity in Ostrogothic Italy.” In The Ostrogoths from the Migration Period to the Sixth Century: An Ethnographic Perspective, edited by Sam Barnish and Federico Marazzi, 31-80. Woodbridge, Suffolk: Boydell Press, 2007.

Kulikowski, Michael. “The Visigothic Settlement in Aquitania: The Imperial Perspective.” In Society and Culture in Late Antique Gaul: Revisiting the Sources, edited by Raplh W. Mathisen and Danuta Shanzer, 26-38. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001.

Nixon, Charles E.V. “Relations between Visigoths and Romans in Fifth-century Gaul.” In Fifth-century Gaul: A Crisis of Identity?, edited by John Drinkwater and Hugh Elton, 64-74. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Wood, Ian. “Ethnicity and the Ethnogenesis of the Burgundians.” In Typen der Ethnogenese unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Bayern : Teil 1 : Berichte des Symposions der Kommission für Frühmittelalterforschung, 27. bis 30. Oktober 1986, Stift Zwettl, Niederösterreich, edited by Walter Pohl and Herwig Wolfram, 53-70, 1986.

———. “The Barbarian Invasions and First Settlements.” edited by Averil Cameron and Peter Garnsey, 516-37. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

The Late Antique Podcast #4: The Justinian Plague

I have decided to restart my podcast, it has been a while since my last one, but now feels the right time to do another one. My plan, going forward, is to publish when I want, as I always intended. I see these podcasts as a bit like an average post on my old blog, where I introduce people to particular debates or ideas and take a more general approach, rather than in some of my more philosophical or speculative posts. As in the past, I have copied my script below, as well as posting a podcast player. A warning- I am getting used to podcasting and Audacity again, so apologies in advance.

Podcast:

Script:

Introduction

Hello, this is the Early Medieval Podcast. Before I begin discussing today’s topic, I want to welcome new listeners as well as old ones. Furthermore, as there has been a considerable gap between the third and fourth podcast, I want to emphasise that I will need to get used to making podcasts again, especially with regards to editing using the software Audacity. This may account for the podcast not being as smooth as possible.

So what am I going to talk about today? Well, I am going to cover the Justinian Plague, which I shall introduce below. I will talk about how some scholars take a ‘maximalist’ position that emphasises the plague’s disruption or indeed its impact on the transition from Late Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages.  I shall also cover those who take a ‘minimalist’ position, some even calling the Justinian pandemic ‘inconsequential’. Finally, I will discuss about the relationship between science and the humanities, in particular I will highlight how the former can contribute to our understanding of the plague when considered alongside over forms of evidence.

What was the Justinian Plague?

There have been three known major plague pandemics caused by the bacterium Yersinia Pestis. There was one in the twentieth century which affected South and East Asia and another beginning with the Black Death which devastated later medieval and early modern Europe. However, the one I will talk about today, is the Plague of Justinian, which lasted initially from 541 to 544, and reoccurred for the next two centuries.

The plague of Justinian was first reported in the Egyptian port town of Pelusium in 541. From Pelusium it spread quickly east to Gaza and West to Alexandria. By 542, at the latest, it had reached Constantinople, the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire, as well as places such as the rest of Greece and also Italy. By 543, it had reached Armenia and Gaul. Rosen suggests it total it could have caused 25 million deaths, however one must be careful when trying to calculate demographic figures for this era, as it is hard to guess the exact population levels.

While the Justinian Plague was first identified in Pelusium, Egypt, it is likely to have originated further south in Africa, according to Sarris. The geopolitical situation of the sixth-century provided the perfect opportunity for it to spread. The Eastern Romans had contact with the Ethiopian kingdom of Aksum, whereas the Persians had influence over Arabia. The Eastern Empire and the Persians were both using these contacts in their war against each other. Aksum, itself, was likely in contact with the interior of Africa, thereby allowing the plague to transmit from interior Africa to Ethiopia to the Mediterranean world.

‘Minimalist’ Position

I want to start my discussion of the debate surrounding the Justinian Plague by suggesting it is actually very hard to assess its impact. This is in part due to the lack of demographic data we have, but also because we have to draw a causal link between the Plague and certain alleged responses to it. It is hard to identify whether the plague actually made these changes or whether it was other factors, such as Justinian’s conflicts, or even the longer-term transformations of Late Antiquity. Nevertheless, all that considered, I tend to believe the pandemic did have a large impact, even if it was not the only factor that affected the transformations of the sixth century and of Late Antiquity in general.

Before I discuss the reasons for believing the pandemic did have a big effect, I want highlight the arguments for believing it was not as important as has been argued. The first issue to consider is demography. Wickham suggests demographic decline was localized and was not general across the whole empire. He highlights the longer-term processes that began before the plague in the fifth century, rather than in the sixth-century.  By far one of the most critical accounts of the plague’s impact comes from Mordechai, Eisenberg and Newfield, among other scholars, who call the pandemic ‘inconsequential.’ These authors focus on quantitative measures (though not at the expense of qualitative analysis). For example, they look at databases containing inscriptions. These include the IGLS database for Syria, which according to them shows no evidence of decline between 500 and 650. There was no decrease inscription levels at all. Meanwhile, the authors also looked at the Heidelberg Epigraphic database, which has over 79,000 inscriptions, mainly from the central and western Mediterranean.  Although a general decrease in number was seen over time, there was no immediate impact from the plague.  The final demographic evidence to consider is mass burials. The authors of the paper on epigraphic evidence, suggest that there presence does not necessarily indicate that they were victims of the plague. In fact, they could be the result of social and cultural factors.

There are other reasons summoned by defendants of the ‘minimalist’ view. They often suggest that the literary evidence might have exaggerated the numbers killed by the plague for rhetorical effect. Michael the Syrian, for example, suggests the initial occurrence killed 99.9% of the population. Meanwhile, Procopius, claims the Emperor Justinian killed one trillion people during his reign due to various disasters. Of course, authors may have exaggerated, but this does not mean the pandemic did not kill millions of people. In fact, the ‘apocalyptic’ tones of the authors may point to how serious the plague was.  Finally, the ‘minimalists’ suggest that Justinian decreased issuing legislation before the first wave and that this was not the result of the pandemic.

‘Maximalist’ Position

On the other hand, if one examines the legislation qualitatively, it is possible to see that Justinian believed the plague was worth responding to in the years 542-545.  In the March of 542, he implemented laws that helped to prop up the banking sector, by making it easier to pursue the heirs of debtors and providing the banks access to a special court. In 543, there were clearly so many deaths that the emperor had to respond to the issue of people dying without making proper wills, in fact he had to go as far as clarifying the inheritance rights of minors. In 544, Justinian attempted to impose wage and price controls due to the fact that individuals tried to take advantage of the high demand for labour to obtain higher wages or higher prices for selling goods. Also in 544, the emperor tried to prevent people negotiating for lower costs when it came to church land, he also tried to encourage cultivation by allowing the Church to rent out land perpetually. In my opinion, Sarris summarises the issuing of all this legislation the best when he says, ‘Justinian’s legislation in the face of the first wave of plague not only paralleled, but far exceeded the efforts later recorded on the part of the English state in the face of the Black Death in the 1340s and 1350s.The social hierarchy, and the fiscal machinery of the East Roman Empire, had to be buttressed at any cost.’

Yet, legislation is not the only evidence we have for the serious impact of the Justinian plague, Mischa Meier suggests it created a lot of cultural changes as well. She writes ‘I believe that the Justinianic Plague marks a significant caesura in the transition from late antiquity to the Byzantine Middle Ages – not necessarily because of its immediate effects such as the large death toll and the collapse in trade, military capability and the geography of settlement that most likely accompanied it, but because of its indirect cultural consequences, in other words, because of processes that in the medium term were either partly set in train or at least substantially accelerated by the plague, to which scholars have paid insufficient attention.’ Meier then goes to highlight the different ways in which the plague had this impact.

Firstly, the plague boosted worship of St Mary, this had been gaining some traction since the fifth century, but it was only about the time of the pandemic that it gained its most momentum. This is evidenced by Justinian’s decision to move Hypapante, also known as Candlemass or the Presentation of the Lord, from the fourteenth to the second of February. This transformation, in the year of the pandemic 542, moved the festival from being about Christ to it being about Mary. According to Meier, this was expressly done to alleviate the plague. Secondly, the plague resulted in an increase of iconoclatry, which is the worship of icons, these provided comfort in times of need. The worship of icons was directly tied to disasters during the pandemic. For example, in 544 an icon of Christ in 544 is said to have saved Edessa from the Persians, while a similar icon that appeared in Kamulianai in Asia Minor miraculously reproduced itself. Furthermore, Meier also highlights the role of plague in causing liturgification, which means that religion took an increasingly important role in all aspects of life. The evidence, according to Meier, can come from a comparison between texts before the 540s and those produced in during or after the pandemic. The imitation of Classical writers was no longer desired and religious symbolism was evoked more. Finally, the emperor became more sacralised as a result of the plague and following on from this period, the emperors adopted more religious tones.

I have now discussed the reasons for believing that the pandemic did have a large impact. I tend to agree with these scholars more than those who call it ‘inconsequential.’ The strongest evidence comes from Justinian’s legislation, it seems that he directly responded to the problems it was causing. Meier’s argument is nuanced, so long as we consider that the plague may not have initiated cultural changes, but accelerated them a lot. Finally, I want to highlight how the plague was only one factor that caused the Late Antique world to transform into the Early Medieval Period, while it undoubtedly had a massive impact, it must not be considered in isolation from the other forces at play.

Science and Humanities

I now want to conclude this podcast with a musing on the relationship between science and the humanities. While study of the Justinian Plague has mainly been conducted in the humanities, scientists have increasingly taken interest in it. In particular, they have tried to analyse the DNA of individuals to look for Yersinia Pestis, the bacteria that caused the plague. The authors who did this, including Wagner and Klunk, extracted teeth from two individuals in a cemetery in Aschheim, Bavaria, Germany. They then screened the DNA to identify if they had any Yersinia Pestis in them. They concluded that although the later medieval and modern pandemics were caused by the same organism as the Justinian plague, they were the result of a separate emergence (a different form) of it. Therefore, the plague of Justinian was caused by a significantly different strain than what caused the later pandemics.

Of course, this is not the only way in which science and other disciplines can increase our understanding of the Justinian plague. Sarris discusses some of the questions that could be asked if we take a truly interdisciplinary response. Namely, how did rodents spread the disease and how did it spread to humans? What can genetics and archaeology tell us about the demographic impacts of the plague? All these questions require going beyond a single discipline.

Talking about the relationship between the humanities and sciences requires us to also consider that the ‘sciences’ and ‘humanities’ are not homogenous subjects. For example, a complex systems scientist might tell us about how the pandemic spread, but a geneticist can inform us about the potential biological make-up of the plague. In terms of history, one individual might use qualitative techniques, while another can use quantitative techniques, they could both provide insights.

I agree with Sarris, when he says there is some resistance to science by some Late Antiquarians, due to its association with tracing the supposed origins of ‘ethnic’ groups. Ethnicity, of course, is a constructed and dynamic phenomenon, and there is always a risk that science could be used to promote false discourses about.  However, this does not negate the fact that science can positively affect our understanding of the past, so long as it is used in the correct way and within an interdisciplinary framework that is open to the humanities.

Conclusion

I hope you have enjoyed this podcast! It has took me a while to do a fourth podcast, but I have enjoyed it a lot. In terms of what I plan to do in the future, I will continue my policy of recording and publishing without a schedule. I would rather have informative podcasts, then make countless ones for the sake of doing so. Nevertheless, I hope this episode has informed you about some of the debates surrounding the Justinian Plague and my thoughts about the relationship between the sciences and humanities.

Bibliography:

Mordechai, Lee, Merle Eisenberg, Timothy P Newfield, Adam Izdebski, Janet E Kay, and Hendrik Poinar. “The Justinianic Plague: An Inconsequential Pandemic?” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences – PNAS 116, no. 51 (2019): 25546-25554.

Meier, Mischa. “The ‘Justinianic Plague’: The economic consequences of the pandemic in the eastern Roman empire and its cultural and religious effects.” Early Medieval Europe 24, no. 3 (2016): 267-292.

Rosen, William. Justinian’s Flea: Plague, Empire and the Birth of Europe. London: Pimlico, 2008.

Sarris, Peter. “New Approaches to the ‘Plague of Justinian'” Past and Present (2021)

Sarris, Peter. “The Justinianic plague: Origins and effects” Continuity and Change, 17, no.2 (2002): 169-182.

Wagner, David M., Jennifer Klunk, Michaela Harbeck, Alison Devault, Nicholas Waglechner, Jason W. Sahl, Jacob Enk et al. “Yersinia pestis and the Plague of Justinian 541–543 AD: a genomic analysis.” The Lancet infectious diseases 14, no. 4 (2014): 319-326.

Wickham, Chris. Framing the Early Middle Ages : Europe and the Mediterranean, 400-800. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005

MA Dissertation Journal #5: Spirituality and Carnality, Time and Conclusions

I have now submitted my MA Dissertation. In this final journal entry, I want to discuss some of my other findings (apart from the plurivocality of experience) and raise potential areas of research.

A finding that excites me a lot and raises lots of interesting questions is how time acted for Gregory. I would suggest it was completely unlike a linear conception of time. For Gregory, the experiential temporal boundaries were collapsible. In other words, the past, present and future all intersected with each other. In Gregory’s Homilies on Ezekiel we find out that prophecy makes this possible. Gregory writes ‘sometimes the past is proven through future events, sometimes the future from the past.’. He also states ‘sometimes the Prophet is touched from the past and present and also the future.’ Although a nonlinear conception of time is not alien to modern thinking, for example consider how Derrida comments on the deferred nature of consciousness, we do not often use it when thinking about how we understand the past. However, how would this alter our practice of history and how does it contribute to my meta-theory that aims to understand Gregory the Great’s experience?

Mainly, we would be required to see references to scripture as more than just a literary exercise. For Gregory, the past, present and future all blended with each other when it comes to experience. Thus, in the story of Nonnosus, in Gregory’s Dialogues, we find that there is a miracle that is similar to 2 Kings 4:1-7. In both instances, we have a miraculous filling of a jar. Meanwhile, Libertinus’ resurrection of a child through using Honoratus’ sandal is compared to the Elisha using Elijah’s mantle to clear a path through water. Different events indicate a period of time different from their own. Past, present and future are blended. I see my argument, in this instance, as a pointer to a possible direction of future research, perhaps we need to think about how we approach time when studying Late Antique history?

The other main finding of my dissertation centred around the spiritual/carnal divide. The spiritual refers to matters of the interior, whereas carnal indicates the bodily. There is plenty of discussion of this issue in the literature on Gregory. For example, Markus and Moorhead focus on the interiority of experience, in other words that Gregory cared more about the inwardness of experience rather than the outer. Meanwhile, Demacopoulos and Evans take an intermediary approach, suggesting that the spiritual and carnal seep into each other on occasion. Straw, who I agree with, sees the spritual and carnal as points on a continuum, in other words they interact with each other on plenty of occasions. Her proposition is radical and forces to rethink how understand Gregory’s world. The divine and mundane intersect on a continuing basis.

My evidence for this in the Homilies on Ezekiel came in two forms. Firstly, one needs to look at the importance Gregory attaches to the flesh. For example, he states that are minds are to be cut off from carnal pleasures, ‘but not from the necessary care of the flesh.’ He also describes how the body is given life from God. The second form of evidence comes through the presence of figurative language. Gregory writes the the body has eyes and that Israel has a hard forehead. The body is used to discuss spiritual truths, so instead of seeing them as opposites, we must instead see them as poles on a continuum.

Based on my discussion of spirituality and carnality, I came up with three propositions:

  1. We must consider other radical ontologies that were part of Gregory’s experience.
  2. Metaphysically speaking, the landscape of the world is imbued with spirituality.
  3. The inward/outward division needs to be abandoned when discussing Gregory- he was neither ‘in’ or ‘out’ of it.

These, of course, are radical propositions. While I do not want to go into detail in this post, I do want to suggest ways that my ideas might be applied practically. Firstly, the idea that there are other ontologies refers to the fact that there were unique ways of being in the Dialogues. In particular, possession by a spirit would change how think about the composition of a person, in them the spiritual and carnal would touch even closer. Some Lombards, for example, were possessed by a spirit when they entered the Church of St Lawrence and a nun was also possessed for eating a lettuce without the customary blessing. Instead, of viewing such instances as ‘culture’ or as psychotic, we should take these other forms of being seriously. The spiritual and carnal were not separate. I admit, I would like to return to this topic at some point, especially whether people with such experiences are ontologically different from those who do not have them (including in modernity, as well as Late Antiquity).

The idea that the landscape is imbued with spirituality means we have to consider the metaphysical ‘otherness’ of Gregory’s world. For example, consider how ‘water’ occupies a position in two stories in the Dialogues. In Honoratus’ story, water prevents two Goths from crossing a river after stealing a horse. Meanwhile, in Libertinus’ instance, water provides the necessary conditions for a fish to miraculously slip in a bucket, in an area where virtually no fish are found. Water, one of the constituents of the world, is directed spiritually.

Finally, the inward/outward division should be abandoned. In other words, beings are not separate from the world, but are part of it. The prime example, for Gregory, is Christ who inhabited the world through a body. Humans are not at a distance from the world, but are part of it.

I have briefly described some of my findings and ideas, hopefully this has provided some insight into my dissertation, even if this post cannot be comprehensive. I will now end this dissertation journal entry by raising two conclusions. I begin by suggesting it may be possible to go ”beyond Gregory’ with the hermeneutic phenomenological aims of my dissertation. Firstly, it might be possible to establish a experiential or phenomenological community, which Gregory and others were part of. In many of Gregory’s letters we find scriptural references, suggesting his ideas might have had influence beyond his own personal experience. Letter VII: 7 quotes 1 Corinthians, Psalms and 2 Kings among many other Biblical books. Meanwhile, Letter III:53 contains references to Wisdom and Matthew. The ideas found in Gregory’s exegesis, and their matching points in Ricoeur, may have influenced the experience of others beyond an individual level. It may even be possible to expand the temporal boundaries of my ‘meta-theory’. In 914, a monk called Gomez, composed a manuscripts of Gregory’s Commentary on Job and in 1275 a manuscript of Gregory’s Homilies on Ezekiel was in circulation. Of course, such a proposal needs further research, but perhaps reception studies would be a good framework for exploring this topic.

Finally, I want to end with reference to some of my ideas as outlined in my first MA dissertation journal. In this, I proposed a new model of history based on comparing modern and Late Antique insights. I even called myself an empiricist (though not in the sense of looking for ‘facts’). In other words, I wanted to question whether Gregory and Ricoeur’s thinking were compatible with each other. What I would say is that my dissertation suggests they partially are comparable, especially on plurivocality. Based on this, future research could take the direction of pursuing the possiblity of creating meta-theories, such as the one in my dissertation. Can we apply theory within an empirical framework? Such a discussion is not only potentially fruitful, but necessary for our understanding of Late Antiquity.

I hope you have enjoyed reading my dissertation journal entries. I have thoroughly enjoyed my project and believe it not only shines light on Gregory the Great’s experience, but opens up potential future areas of research. Nevertheless, my project still questions different aspects of Gregory’s experience from the unique vantage point of hermeneutic phenomenology.

Bibliography

Primary Sources

Anonymous, Gregory the Great’s Homilies on Ezekiel. Accessed 05/10/2021 at https://digital.tcl.sc.edu/digital/collection/pfp/id/3219

Gregory the Great, Dialogues in St Gregory the Great: Dialogues translated by Odo J. Zimmerman. New York: Fathers of the Church Inc, 1959.

Gregory the Great, Homilies on Ezekiel in Homilies on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel translated by Theodosia Tomkinson. Perrysville: Centre for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 2010.

Gregory the Great. Letters translated by James Barmby. Accessed 10/10/2021 at https://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3602.htm.

Gomez, Gregory the Great’s Commentary on Job. Accessed 05/10/2021 at https://www.digitalcollections.manchester.ac.uk/view/MS-LATIN-00083/1

Secondary Sources

Demacopoulos, George E. Gregory the Great: Ascetic, Pastor and First Man of Rome. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2015.

Evans, Gillian R. The Thought of Gregory the Great (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986)

Markus, Robert A. Gregory the Great and His World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Markus, Robert A. Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press,1996.

Moorhead, John. Gregory the Great. Abingdon: Routledge, 2005.

Straw, Carole E. Gregory the Great: Perfection in Imperfection. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988.

MA Dissertation Journal #3: Can Derrida Be Applied Historically?

In this post, I will expand on some thoughts I have had while doing my dissertation, which nevertheless cannot fit in my thesis. You may know that I am interested in whether theories can be grounded in evidence. After all, one of my dissertation’s aims is to see if Paul Ricoeur’s ideas can be compared to Gregory the Great’s. In this post, I will explore the controversial and radical idea that the ideas of Jacques Derrida are not only sound but can also be applied in a historical context within an empirical basis. Admittedly, much more research needs to be done to verify my argument, but I am using this post as an opportunity and tangent to investigate the idea’s potential.

The first comparison between Derrida and Late Antique thinking centres around semiotics and language. But first, I want to highlight how semiotics again plays a pivotal role. In my previous post, I talked about the importance of semiotics to connecting the world and text. However, I am now becoming aware, as my dissertation progresses, that signs and language are crucial topics in philosophy, many ideas cannot be addressed without dealing with the relevant issues.

One Derridean theory that might be applicable to Late Antiquity is différance. This idea has its origins in Ferdinand de Saussure’s conception that words receive their meaning through their relationship with others. Derrida, building on this, suggests that words can never fully summon their meaning because of their interdependence. However, why is this idea potentially useful for Late Antique studies? Moorhead, in his introduction to Gregory the Great, writes ‘the need to interpret the Bible allegorically, and the possibility that that something could have more than one meaning, allowed Gregory to see words as unstable in what they signified. Furthermore, Markus, in Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity, describes signs as ‘ambivalent’ and that ‘their meaning has to be struggled for.’ Both these two authors are using evidence for these points, Markus is using Augustine’s works, while Moorhead is using Gregory the Great’s. In the Late Antique conception, signs were seen as complicated and unstable. Naturally, we have to appreciate the fact that Augustine’s ideas vary from source to source and that Gregory never wrote a full treatise on semiotics, but it appears différance may have a historical basis when talking about Late Antiquity.

What are the implications of this? Well for one thing it means that the meaning of a text is never quite fully realised. The Bible, because of the ambivalently of its language, is open to different interpretations. Moorhead recognises this while discussing Gregory the Great, he writes ‘the deepest books are those which are most open to different readings and, in a sense, allow themselves to be perpetually remade as people read them in various ways’. He also adds ‘The Bible positively invites different kinds of interpretation, for it has a kind of flexibility which enables it to adjust itself to the capacities of its reader and grow with them’ This sounds a bit like Derridean Deconstruction- the Bible is not internally coherent and its contradictions can be exposed. Different readers have different readings. However, this only describes one sense of what Deconstruction actually is and not its other senses (the word, intentionally, is very hard to decipher).

The other meaning of Deconstruction, as explored in Of Grammatology, is that it attempts to reveal the that oppositions, like those of speech/writing and nature/society can be undermined. Historically, such binaries have dominated philosophical thinking. Moorhead, for example, comments ‘one of the key structures in Gregory’s thought is the distinction between the inward and the outward, and his invariable tendency to see the former as being the most important.’ It would appear initially that the Derridean examination of binaries does not apply to Gregory the Great. However, Straw, in Gregory the Great: Perfection in Imperfection, reveals that this sense of deconstruction is in fact applicable to how Gregory viewed the world. Straw’s approach is almost Derridean and the binary she examines in most depth is the spiritual/carnal one, which is of course very important for the phenomenological dimension of my dissertation. She writes, on this topic, ‘Gregory sees the carnal and spiritual realms as interrelated, as connected as endpoints of a continuum.’ Carnal signs also point to ‘the spiritual world beyond’ and ‘the visible world of flesh and blood and mere human experience reveals a variety of mysteries links with the transcedent, invisible world of the spirit’. However, one can go even further in making the link between Derrida and Straw. A large part Of Grammatology is dedicated to analysing the works of the philosopher Jean Jacques-Rosseau. Derrida looks at the binary of north/south in his work. Straw similarly attempts to examine north/south in the writings of Gregory the Great, she writes ‘the cold north wind is the raw numbness of the evil spirit, while the south wind warms and thaws the Holy Spirit.’ However, simultaneously the role of north/south and cold/warm is reversed, as Straw states that Gregory writes that one may burn with carnal desires and be cooled by holy thoughts. Thus, in Gregory’s thought, binaries such as the ones discussed can be examined, inverted and analysed.

To summarise, some of Derrida’s ideas seem to not only be present in the scholarship on Gregory the Great, but are also found in the evidence used by the discussed writers. What does this mean for how we should approach Late Antiquity? Well, for me, it proves modern theory can have a basis in the evidence. There does not need to be contradiction between the theoretical and the empirical. Now of course this post is only a brief elaboration of one of my thoughts while doing reading for my dissertation, but it opens up a whole new area of research. What else can Derridean theory do to change our understanding of Late Antiquity?

Bibliography

Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology. Translated by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak.  Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press 1977.

de Saussure, Ferdinand. Course in General Linguistics. Translated by Wade Baskin.  New York City: McGraw-Hill Paperbacks, 1966.

Markus, Robert A. Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1996.

Moorhead, John. Gregory the Great. Abingdon: Routledge, 2005.

Straw, Carole. Gregory The Great: Perfection in Imperfection. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988.

MA Dissertation Journal 2: Rereading Signs and Meanings, World and Text in Ancient Christianity

In 2019, I published an article on Markus’ Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. Now I want revisit this collection of lectures in light of my dissertation, which is inspired by it. When writing my review, I had foresight of some of the issues that would occupy my thinking. For example, I mentioned Markus’ concept of ‘linguistic communities’ and the fact that he covers semiotics. I now want to expand my discussion of these issues, as well as cover his chapter on Gregory the Great, the most relevant to my dissertation

Lets begin however by reiterating the central thesis of this collection, that is how individuals read scripture influenced their worldview or how the way they ‘read’ the world. My work looks at this, but through a comparison with Paul Ricouer. If scripture influences how we interpret reality, then we need to look at if modern hermeneutical theories can be compared with historic ones, in order to understand whether they can be applied to the past. This forms the core of my dissertation. I am therefore heavily indebted to Markus for my project.

However, I now wish to comment on Markus’ treatment of Gregory. Compared to Augustine, Gregory gets very little space- only one chapter. However, Markus nevertheless has some interesting things to say. A sentence I raised in my review was as follows: ‘The complexity of Augustine’s world had collapsed into simplicity. Compared with Augustine, Gregory could take for granted the settled contours of his spiritual landscape.’ However, I would raise Gregory’s view of the world was far from simple. He read scripture in multiple senses, meaning he also read the world in multiple ways. His insistence on the importance of allegory would have also complicated this picture- he would have seen allegory all around him. Furthermore, we need to consider, admittedly as Markus mentions, the turmoil in Italy during the period he was alive. Markus writes ‘convinced of the crumbling away of the fabric of the material world around him, of the remnants of the Roman past, he was driven to look beyond’. Essentially, Markus is suggesting that Gregory distanced himself from the world of immediate experience (which was perhaps equivalent to the historical sense) to focus more on spirituality. But surely a spiritual reading of the world is more complicated than a sensory one? I would argue that Gregory’s view of the world was far from simple.

An interesting point raised in the chapter on Gregory is that ‘understanding a miracle is like reading a script and understanding its meaning’. This point of view has implications for my chapter on Gregory’s Dialogues. That book contains miracle stories and my study shall aim to understand how Gregory read these scripts of events and how he viewed the world in relationship to deciphering their meaning.

I now wish to comment on semiotics. I understated the importance of this topic in my review of Signs and Meanings , I now believe this topic to be crucial in linking text to world. Markus writes ‘signs are the most indispensable means of directing the mind’s attention to things, and that nothing, therefore, can be learnt without the use of signs’. Signs are present everywhere in the world, but they are also present in a text. Text and world both share the same system of signification, one uses words, the other uses all the senses. Yet how one person reads the world is vastly different to how another reads it. We need to consider the fact that the self (where the scriptural interpretative ideas reside) needs a connection to the world as well. Idhe, in Hermeneutic Phenomenology: The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur, comments ‘man is language’. We therefore have three things connected, the self, text and world all by language. Semiotics plays a crucial role, in three layers, when we discuss how scripture influences worldviews.

I therefore want to propose the relationship between the world and the self is determined by their mutual linguisticality. Originally, I believed the answer lay in emotions. I thought this for two reasons. The first was due to William Reddy’s idea of emotives. He argues that emotional utterances automatically confirm the world outside of language through failing at representation- my belief was that this created a bridge to link the world and the self. Secondly, Markus, while commenting on Augustine, writes that love is the emotion that urges the mind to discover the meaning of a sign in reality. Therefore, mind and world are connected again by emotions. However, this position no longer seems tenable, it is now clear that language conditions on three fronts therefore uniting them, to an arguable extent, by their shared characteristics of reference.

This post has made me think long and hard about semiotics, the relationship between world and text, and at times I have went on a bit of a philosophical ramble. However, I believe that the purpose of these posts is to give me a way of developing ideas and showing them in the creation stage. Therefore, my answers need refining, but I hope so far you have been given insight into my thinking.

Strangely, emotions also get another mention in this post (I took an undergraduate course on emotions). Barbara Rosenwein introduced the concept of emotional communities to help understand Late Antiquity. However, Markus, writing before Rosenwein, already theorised the Late Antiquity consisted of linguistic communities that shared the same world of reference. I think communities are a useful concept, however we need to be careful when using them as an idea. How do we define their boundaries? What about the relationship between the self and others? How can we be sure that individuals were viewing things or objects the same way? This sounds like a radical scepticism, but I have few answers to these questions at this stage. What I would like to say is that if language conditions the self then surely a being’s mind has similar features to that of another being’s (which is also determined by language).

Markus argues that it is through signs we discover the shared world of reference. Yet people read the world in different ways. This is problematic. Again, I need more time to ruminate on this. I will hopefully be able to tell you my answers when I have finished my section on going beyond ‘Gregory’ with the ideas of my dissertation. Nevertheless, it is hoped this post has provided insight into my thoughts and the stimulating intellectual challenges I am facing as I discuss the relationship between hermeneutics and phenomenology.

Bibliography:

Idhe, Don. Hermeneutic Phenomenology: The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur. Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1971

Markus, Robert A. Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1996.

Reddy, William. “Against Constructionism: The Historical Ethnography of Emotions.” Current Anthropology 38, no. 3 (1997): 327-51.

Rosenwein, Barbara. Emotional Communities in the Early Middle Ages. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2006.

MA Dissertation Journal #1: Introduction

I have decided to keep a dissertation journal for my MA thesis. I did one for my undergraduate dissertation on my old blog, but it seems fitting to do one for this blog, given its philosophical themes. This post, in particular, will introduce my ideas and reveal some of the questions I am interested in. This post is general and about big ideas, that inspire me, I will get down to the detail in later posts.

I picked up an Oxford World Classics’s edition of Aristotle’s psychological works, including ‘On The Soul’, the other day, from Waterstones. I mention this not because my dissertation will focus on Aristotle, though I may use some commentaries on him for later projects after my MA, but because it illuminates some of the questions I am interested in. After browsing through the book, I noticed some themes, such as perception and subject-object relations. In summary, the anthology has a number of chapters that focus on how the self relates to anything outside the self. My MA dissertation will focus on this relationship between the ego and what is outside.

However, my dissertation’s starting point has theological as well as philosophical undertones. You may remember in 2019 I reviewed Robert Markus’ Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. This book examines hermeneutics, most notably Augustine’s and Gregory the Great’s, but its most interesting point is that the author’s scriptural views influenced how they interpreted the world. This forms one of the bases of my thesis, I want to examine how Late Antique hermeneutics affected one’s experience of the world. My dissertation therefore has a phenomenological dimension as well. I have chosen Gregory the Great’s Homilies on Ezekiel as my main primary source for this task of exploring how the self relates to what is outside. I decided on this because it covers a range of interesting themes, like prophecy and visions, which are sure to add an extra layer to the discussion surrounding interpretation. There was also a practical reason, I can do the Homilies on Ezekiel justice in 20,000 words and I could not have done this for the more famous and more studied Commentary on Job.

However, the Homilies on Ezekiel shall not form the only text I will study in my dissertation. One section of it will compare the writings of Gregory the Great to the continental philosopher Paul Ricoeur. I have chosen the latter writer because he takes a phenomenological approach to hermeneutics, which is kind of what Markus does without necessarily stating clearly stating it. There are other writers who hermeneutic phenomenologists, like Gadamer and Heidegger, but I chose Ricouer because he has written a lot on religion and scriptural interpretation. This would allow a more direct comparison with Gregory the Great. I was also advised to narrow down my focus.

There is a purpose to comparing Gregory and Ricoeur and it goes beyond identifying similarities or differences. I want to see if it is possible to build a meta-theory of interpreting Late Antique experience. Can modern insights, like those of Ricoeur, be applied to the past with a base in the evidence? I often think modern theories may not be the best tools for understanding the past. It is, in my opinion, better to seek out theories from the time period themselves then test modern theories against them. I believe doing this could lend great support to modern theories, especially if they are supported by evidence. This all makes me sound like an empiricist and I think I am. However, not in the narrow sense of looking for facts. I am empirical in the sense of wanting to understand how people came into contact the world- how they sensed it. There is no reason not to believe people in the past experienced the world differently to us in terms of how they perceived and indeed interpreted the world. My use of interpretation here may seem to go against my empiricism, but it does not. Interpretation and hermeneutics directly affect how we pick up the world.

Some, who have read my posts, may find it odd that I have declared myself as an empiricist. I have written on postmodernism quite a lot, such as Cillier’s synthesis of postmodernism and complexity theory or on postmodern theology. I believe postmodernism is not necessarily at odds with my empirical vision, if its theories can be grounded in comparative evidence. One of the main purposes of my dissertation is to establish this comparative approach between modern and historic theories. I believe this is pivotal if we are to understand the past. Critics would likely raise here that we do not necessarily always have the evidence for such comparisons. This is a question my dissertation will explore, given the fact we only have several hermeneutical texts by Gregory the Great. It is hoped my dissertation will contribute to an effort to see if such a vision of history, as I have declared, is practical.

You could be wondering at this point what have my ideas got to do with practical research. Well, that is why I am dedicating a chapter to applying the potentially developed meta-theory to Gregory the Great’s Dialogues. I want to consider how big questions affect practice. What happens if we apply this envisaged theory to a text? Gregory, may have experienced the world differently to us, so what happens when we apply the combined Late Antique and Modern theory to a source? Does it stand the test? How can we understand texts differently?

I have a lot of questions and ideas at this stage, as you can see, and these will likely be narrowed down. However, it is hoped this post has given some insights into my thinking at an early stage of my dissertation and also the philosophical questions I am interested in. With regards to future posts about my dissertation, they will likely have a more specific focus. I will discuss the different stages I am at and how research has reformulated my questions and answers. I may also do smaller posts containing interesting points that I have discovered or found out. Regardless, it is thrilling to be doing this project and I hope in the end it can provide some clarity on my big questions.

Bibliography:

Primary Sources

Aristotle, On the Soul translated by Fred D. Miller Jr in Aristolle: On the Soul and Other Psychological Works. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.

Gregory the Great, Dialogues translated by Edmund G. Gardener in The Dialogues of St Gregory the Great. Merchantville: Evolution Publishing and Manufacturing, 2010.

Gregory the Great, Homilies on Ezekiel translated by Theodosia Tomkinson in Homilies on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel. Perrysville: Centre for Traditionalist Orthodox Studies, 2010.

Secondary Sources

Caputo, John. What Would Jesus Deconstruct?: The Good News of Postmodernity For The Church. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2007.

Cilliers, Paul. Complexity and Postmodernism: Understanding Complex Systems. London: Routledge, 1998.

Markus, Robert A. Signs and Meanings: World and Text in Ancient Christianity. Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 1996.

Review: The Fall of Rome and The End of Civilisation

This post reviews the 2005 book ‘The Fall of Rome and The End of Civilisation’ by Bryan Ward-Perkins.

The title of the book reviewed in this post is no doubt meant to stir controversy. To call the end of the Western Roman Empire ‘the end of civilisation’ is a very bold claim indeed. It seems at odds with the concept of Late Antiquity and the idea of a non-catastrophic transformation into the medieval. Therefore, I picked this book to try and challenge my views about the era. Based on the title, I was expecting a polemical account of the end of the Empire. However, this did not prove to be the case, Ward-Perkins left more room for nuance than I expected. At the same time, after reading the book, I still do not subscribe to his views. The end of the Western Roman Empire was far too complex to be named ‘the end of civilisation.’

The first notable about Ward-Perkins’ approach is that he argues that the barbarian migrations were violent and mainly (though not completely) down to conquest. He also suggests they were the main reason for the fall of the Empire in the west. The author writes ‘the relatively benign conditions of the fourth-century West rapidly disappeared in the first decade of the fifth century, as a consequence of invasion.’ Italy, Gaul and the Iberian peninsular all faced conflict within this decade. Consequentially, Ward-Perkins argues, the Empire was deprived of its tax base just when it needed it the most. Civil wars and the uprising of the so-called Bacaudae also played a part in these apparently tumultuous times.

The idea that the migrations were violent seems at odd with theories that suggest the barbarians were accommodated within the Empire through treaties. Ward-Perkins does not deny the existence of such agreements. For example, the Visigoths were given part of Aquitaine, centred on the Garonne Valley, in 419. However, he suggests that these grants were insignificant compared to the land gained by conquest. In fact, he states that the role of treaties of accommodation has been massively overplayed. I do not agree with this point. Conquest and violence undoubtedly took place, but accommodation within the Empire was certainly a major factor. References to settlement are found within The Burgundian Code and The Code of Euric. If accommodation was not a pivotal mechanism for settlement, it would not be found in major law codes such as these. Admittedly, Ward-Perkins concedes some ground, suggesting land was shared throughout Italy following Odoacer’s usurpation, so he cannot be seen completely as anti-accommodation. Furthermore, it is worth noting that he states land was shared. This it at odds with Goffart, who argues that barbarians were granted 1/3 of a share of tax revenue instead of physical land. In my opinion, it is easy to fall into a rule-based trap with the so-called Hospitalitas debate. I envisage the Romans likely adapted to different situations and granted land or tax revenue based on individual circumstances. As Goffart suggests, Cassiodorus’ Variae can be interpreted as offering a tax-based solution, whereas it is much harder to deny the granting of physical land for the Visigoths in The Code of Euric, which makes direct references to land disputes between Romans and barbarians. We need to view the settlements in a non-mechanistic fashion instead of presuming there was only one way of reaching agreement.

Ward-Perkins’ claim that the fall of the Western Empire resulted in ‘the end of civilisation’ is mainly based on a range of material evidence. Notably, evidence such as pottery, coinage, tiles and buildings. The quality of these, according to him, declined substantially towards and after the end of empire. This, apparently, proves that the Roman economy lost its sophistication, which is sign in the decline of quality of life. I take a degree of issue with Ward-Perkins presumptions here. Again, admittedly, he raises some of the points his opponents may state. However, can quality of life really be determined by the types of evidence he cites? I am not sure myself. Furthermore, as Ward-Perkins himself notes, decline if present was not universally felt across the former empire. The situation in Britain was much more dire to the prosperous Italy (in part) and North Africa, which both had long periods of peace.

A further point worth highlighting is Ward-Perkins’ treatment of ethnicity. He writes ‘there is no reason to believe, as people once did, that ethnic behaviour and identity are genetically transmitted, and therefore immutable.’ He therefore thankfully takes a view that ethnicity is not biological. However, he also argues there are significant barriers to changing one’s identity, both in a person’s mind and in the group one wishes to join. Ward-Perkins therefore suggests changing ethnicity is a complicated process and takes a long time. He states ‘the fusion of peoples that emerged out of the Germanic settlements took centuries to develop.’ I again, do not fully subscribe to this point. In my opinion, ethnicity is often overstated as a factor in social relations, perhaps due to its prominence in modern discourse. Nevertheless, ethnicity certainly existed in Late Antiquity, the question is more about its fluidity.

Aside from this, I also believe Ward-Perkins makes some potentially dangerous points. He writes ‘for better or worse (and often it is for the worse) some cultures are more sophisticated than others’. I am not arguing for a completely relativistic view, but judging cultures based on their apparent sophistication is risky territory and open to abuse. Furthermore, the author argues ‘it is a mistake to treat all empires of the past as universally bad in an undifferentiated way.’ Again, this seems dangerous, but thankfully he also writes ‘I am no advocated of twenty–first century Imperialism.’ He therefore closely avoids advocating empire as a a form of government.

To conclude, after reading Ward-Perkins’ book, I have not completely changed my mind. I still think Late Antiquity is a better concept than the rather extravagant claim that the end of the Western empire was ‘the end of civilisation.’ At the same time, I have no doubt that Ward-Perkins does leave room for some nuance, he does not paint a completely negative picture. Therefore, to summarise, I mainly disagree with ‘The Fall of Rome and The End of Civilisation’ and its arguments, but I do not think it deserves to be treat as a mere polemic.

The Late Antique Podcast #2: The Gundovald Affair: A Crisis in Merovingian Gaul

This post contains my second podcast, as well as the accompanying script and bibliography.

Script:

Introduction

Imagine a siege of a small town with multiple battering rams trying to break down the walls und er constant fire from missiles and facing the threat of a sally. Imagine defenders hopelessly besieged using everything thing they can to hold their position, pouring vats filled with burning pitch and grease down on their opponents and then using stone-throwing machines to rain death upon them. This was the Siege of Convenae, the climax of one the most dramatic and chaotic events in sixth-century Gaul. It was called The Gundovald Affair and it involved an eponymous pretender trying to stake his personal claim to Merovingian Gaul.

Hello there, I’m Liam and this is the Early Medieval Podcast. Today’s episode will focus on the series of events that I’ve just made reference to above-The Gundovald Affair. Our source for describing it will be Gregory of Tours’ Ten Books of Histories, which is often erroneously called The History of the Franks. Gregory, born in 539, was Bishop of Tours and is our main source for the tumultuous times that dominated Merovingian Gaul during the sixth century. While Gregory describes constant internal strife throughout this period, our focus shall be on the rise and fall of the pretender Gundovald. A crucial series of events that can give us a peculiar amount of insight into how Gaul operated at this time.

Merovingian Gaul during Gundovald’s revolt was divided into three kingdoms: Austrasia, Neustria and Burgundy. Austrasia was to the north east of Gaul, whereas Neustria was to the West. Burgundy, meanwhile, approximately took up the south east. Previously another kingdom had existed under Charibert centred around Paris, but after his death his three brothers divided up his kingdom between them.

Who ruled each kingdom during the revolt? Well these had been chaotic times for Merovingian Gaul, so there was only one male adult ruler- Neustria and Austrasia were both ruled by children. Chlothar II, son of the deceased Chilperic, ruled Neustria, whereas Childebert II, song of the assassinated Sigibert, ruled Austrasia. Guntram, the sole adult, but with no surviving sons of his own, ruled Burgundy, There was therefore a dangerous lack of royal Merovingian stock, especially adults, in Gaul when Gundovald arrived.

Life of Gundovald Before The Revolt

Having provided some context for the revolt, I will now proceed to discuss Gregory’s treatment of Gundovald in the Histories. I shall firstly look at the early life of Gundovald. Gregory wrties ‘Gundovald was born in Gaul and educated with great care. He wore his hair long and down his back, as is the custom of the Frankish kings,’ At some point, his mother presented him to Childebert I, (note- not Childebert II who was King of Austrasia when Gundovald revolted) claiming that his father Chlothar I hated him. Chlothar I, who later would become sole ruler of Gaul, was the father of Guntram, Chilperic, Sigibert and Charibert. Childebert I had no sons of his own so he took Gundovald and kept him at his side. When Chlothar I heard this he demanded that Gundovald be presented to him and claimed ‘This is no son of mine’. Therefore, Chlothar I declared that Gundovald was not his son and that he did not have a right to any land in Merovingian Gaul. After Chlothar I’s death, Gundovald was taken up by Charibert, but again was summoned by Sigibert who cut off his hair and sent him to Cologne.  

Despite his mistreatment by his father Chlothar I and Sigibert there is good reason to believe that Gundovald was a legitimate royal son. Most of the scholarship agrees on this point. For example, Goffart points towards his royal upbringing and education. Meanwhile, Bachrach highlights his reception by Childbert and also by Charibert. He writes ‘the significance of Charibert’s reception of Gundovald cannot be too strongly emphasised. By this act Charibert clearly demonstrated that he accepted as a fact the claim that Gundovald was of royal blood, that he was King Chlothar’s son’ The same can also be said about Chlothar’s brother, Childbert’s, reception of him and the fact that he was aloud to grow his hair long in royal style.

There is also good reason to think that Gregory of Tours was sympathetic to the pretender and that he also thought he was a son of Chlothar I. For a start, he never outright denounces his claim to Merovingian land, despite a certain him nearly falling of his shield when announced as a King in Book VII, Chapter 10. Furthermore, Gundovald, during the Siege of Convenae, announces that Radegund of Poitiers and Ingitrude of Tours can attest to his legitimacy and story. As Ian Wood highlights, these women were both members of the Merovingian family. The first Gregory regarded as a saint; the second he regarded highly at the time of composing Book VII of the Histories (where most of the account of the revolt is found), even if he changed his mind later. While Gregory never outrightly states his support for Gundovald, Wood points out that he likely wouldn’t due to Guntram’s treatment of his episcopal appointments. Gregory is also very careful, according to Wood, about his presentation of Gundovald and his followers. Without exception, Gundovald’s claim to be the son of Chlothar I is presented in direct or indirect speech, as are all the denials of his royal descent. Wood argues Gregory deliberately using vagueness and other literary techniques to subvert his narrative and to show his true beliefs. To summarise then, it seems that Gundovald was likely a legitimate Merovingian, despite his rejection by Chlothar I.

We now return to Gregory’s narrative of Gundovald’s life. Stuck in Cologne, Gundovald soon escaped and went to Italy to see the East Roman general Narses. Bachrach, suggests he was received here, because Narses wanted to establish him as governor of the ‘Frankish’ provinces in Italy; Liguria, Venetia and the Cottian Alps. Installed there, Gundovald could help rally the local inhabitants, who had been settled there since 539, against a Lombard invasion. Alternatively, he may have also been intended to exert pressure on Guntram of Burgundy and Sigibert of Austrasia, so that they would aid against the Lombards in Italy. The fear of an Imperial backed pretender may have motivated them to provide assistance to the Eastern Roman Empire. The Empire had a long history of using pretenders and becoming involved in dynastic disputes. They had been the pretexts for invasions of Italy, Spain and Africa, so the Frankish kings would have had a genuine concern about how Gundovald could be used. Regardless, of what Narses’ plans were, they could not be executed due to his fall from grace and his replacement of governor of Italy by Longinus. What happened to Gundovald as a result of these events.? Well, he married and had children during his stay in Italy. He also grew his hair long again in the Frankish royal style. Finally, he moved to Constantinople where he would stay until his invitation back into Italy.

The Return and Revolt of Gundovald

What was the context of his return to Gaul? During the Siege of Convenae, Gundovald himself claimed that he had been invited back by an Austrasian magnate called Guntram Boso. Gundovald, as recorded by Gregory of Tours, said ‘a few years ago Guntram Boso came to Constantinople. I questioned him closely about the fate of my brothers and I was told that our line had almost died.’ Gundovald then goes on to claim that Boso said ‘Come’ and ‘You are invited by all the leaders of King Childebert’s realm, for not one has dared to speak against you’. Therefore, if this account is to believed, Guntram was invited on behest of a faction of Austrasian magnates. However, despite Gundovald’s claims, it unclear if he was invited back by Guntram Boso. Later, after Gundovald’s return to Gaul, Guntram of Burgundy accused Boso of inviting the pretender. However, Boso denied it and accused Mummolus, a leader of Guntram’s for inviting him back. He then went on to support Guntram’s actions against Gundovald. Nevertheless, It is possible that Boso was simply covering his back, regardless who invited Gundovald and the resultant precise aims of his revolt shall remain a mystery to a degree.

Upon his return to Gaul, Gundovald landed in Marseilles where he was received by Bishop Theodore and subsequently, he set off to join Duke Mummolus at Avignon. Boso, now apparently against Gundovald, arrested Bishop Theodore and threw him into prison for introducing a foreigner to Gaul with the aim of subjecting a Frankish kingdom to Imperial control. Epiphanius, also a Bishop, was also accused of supporting Gundovald, as he was implicated through arriving at Marseilles at a similar time. They were taken before Guntram and eventually found innocent, although it came at a cost for Epiphanius who died from his suffering. Gundovald, by this point, had fled to an island in the Mediterranean to await what had happened.

Gundovald later returned to Gaul again and stayed with Mummolus in Avignon. Accompanied by the Duke, as well as another- Desiderius, Gundovald at some point set off to the district of Limoges. Where, at the tomb of Saint Martin, he was raised up as King on a shield. Gregory notes, as mentioned earlier, ‘as they carried him round for the third time, he stumbled and had great difficulty remaining upright even with the help of those standing round him’. Regardless, he then made a progress through neighbouring cities. At this point, it is worth covering who was supporting Gundovald as a Merovingian king. Ian Wood suggests his allies came from three main sources. Firstly, members of Childebert II’s court keeping their options open until he came of age. Secondly, followers of Guntram whose position had been compromised. Finally, military leaders in service of Chilperic, who had been too far away from his court to ensure their survival after his death. Gundovald, nevertheless had a large amount of support throughout Merovingian Gaul.

Gregory of Tours following on from these events notes portents that suggests Gundovald’s death was coming. Misshapen grapes were forming, whereas trees were blossoming twice. Rays of light were also shining in the sky and there was an earthquake in Angers. Furthermore, in the North a column of fire hung on high for two hours. Meanwhile, tensions were brewing  throughout Gaul due to Gundovald’s procession. The magnate Guntram Boso was sent as envoy to Guntram’s court and the latter again accused by the former of aiding Gundovald. Boso declared his innocence yet again. Guntram then declared all should be united to drive out the adventurer’s whose father was sat at a weaver’s loom and catded wool. An envoy then jokes no one can have two fathers, unless one is speaking of spiritual matters. The envoys then  burst out laughing and left. In anger, Guntram, with jokes made of him, ordered horse dung to be thrown over the envoys’ heads, alongside wood chips, straw, mouldy hay and mud from the town gutters. Gundovald’s main antagonist was now angry and was raising an army to engage in battle with him.

Gundovald . at this point, then planned to move to Poitiers, but was afraid because he heard an army was being raised against him. He also demanded an oath of allegiance to King Childebert from all the cities that had belonged to Sigibert (Childebert II’s father) and also asked for an oath of allegiance to himself from all the cities that had belonged to Guntram or to Chilperic. The fact that he demanded allegiance to Childebert II in Sigibert’s former territories, reinforces the idea that there was a strong contingent of Austriasian magnates behind Gundovald’s arrival in Gaul.

Gundovald moved to Angouleme, where he received the oath there and gave bribes to its chief citizens. He then went to Perigueux where he persecuted the Bishop for not having received him with due honour. Next, Gundovald marched on Tolouse, he sent messages to Magnulf who was Bishop in the city, to order him to receive him. However, they claimed ‘no foreigner must dare to violate the Frankish realm’ and prepared to resist Gundovald. However, on the eve of battle, the inhabitants saw the size of Gundovald’s army and so they opened the gates to him. Sometime later, when the Bishop Magnulf was sitting at table with Gundovald he said to him ‘You maintain that you are the son of King Chlothar, but we have no way of telling whether or not this is true. It seems incredible to me that you can carry out what you have planned’. Gundovald replied ‘I am indeed the son of King Chlothar and I am determined to take over my share of the kingdom without any more delay. I shall march on Paris with all speed and there I shall establish the seat of my government.’ Magnulf replied ‘If you succeed in carrying out what you say’ and then ‘it is indeed true that no prince of the Frankish royal line remains alive.’ Mummolus, who was supporting Gundovald, raised his hand boxes the bishop’s ears, saying it is not right ‘for so stupid and debased a man as you to give such an answer to a great king’.  Desiderius then laid hands on Magnulf and then both Dukes prodded him with spears, punched him and kicked him. Then they b bound him with a rope and banished him from his city, before stealing all his possessions and those of the church too.

Gundovald continued his revolt and procession throughout Gaul after leaving Toulouse. He was pursued by an army including the inhabitants of Tours and Poiteivins. Gundovald then sent messages to his supporters. One of these, the Bishop of Cahors, was captured by Guntram and beaten and thrown into prison. Gundovald then moved on to Bordeaux, where he tried to take a finger bone of Saint Sergius to aid his cause from a Syrian named Eufronius. Mummolus broke the bone into pieces, causing the Syrian to weep. Meanwhile, the revolt installed a new Bishop of Dax, as Gundovald also nullified Chilperic’s decrees. It seems at this point, Gundovald was becoming a greater and greater threat to Guntram and the other Merovingian Kings, his revolt was covering more and more ground and becoming increasingly dangerous.

With his power growing, Gundovald sent two messengers to Guntram demanding ‘that portion of Chlothar I’s kingdom which is his due’. In response, Guntram stretched the messengers on the rack until they admitted that Gundovald had been asked to accept kingship by Childebert II’s leaders. This accusation was coming up yet again. Guntram invited Childebert II to discuss this matter and more. He told Childebert II not to trust his advisers for they were supporting Gundovald and also announced the Austrasian king as his heir. Meanwhile, Guntram’s army was marching towards Gundovald. The climax of the revolt was about to begin.

The Siege of Convenae

Gundovald , hearing of Guntram’s army approaching, crossed the Garonne and made for Convenae in the foothills of the Pyrenees. This is where he would make his stand. Convenae or Comminges was ‘built on the top of a high hill, with no other elevated spots near. ‘At the foot of  a hill’ according to Gregory ‘a great spring gushes forwards, enclosed by a strongly fortified tower.’ Convenae itself was defended by a 674 metre perimeter wall built of stone and improved with ditches. Upon his arrival in Convenae, Gundovald said to the he towns folk ‘You know that I have been elected, with the backing of all those who dwell in Childebert’’s realm’ and ordered them to bring food and supplies inside the wall. He also tells them that they will hold out for reinforcements. However, then, he told the men of Convenae to sally forth and fight, as Guntram’s army was rapidly approaching. With the citizens of the town out, Gundovald shuts the doors on them and their Bishop and then takes all their possessions.

Once the siege begun, an effort was made to undermine the moral of the defenders. Men climbed to the top of the Matacan, the only highpoint within hailing distance, to insult Gundovald, making reference to his nickname ‘ballomer’, his painting skills and the cutting of his hair by the Frankish kings. Gundovald went to part of the ramparts that was close enough to answer back. Despite this, the siege engines brought by  Guntram’s army were of no real value against Convenae. According to Bachrach, the inability to use light artillery and perhaps even heavier pieces was likely due to the topographical situation at Convenae. Leudgisel who was in charge of the siege decided to build new engines to aid the siege effort. These new weapons mainly consisted of battering rams to knock down holes in the walls. As these approached the walls, the attackers were bombarded by stones. Bachrach suggests the defenders also likely used stone-throwing machines. The battle was certainly chaotic. As mentioned earlier, flaming barrels of pitch and fat, as well as boxes filled with stones, were also thrown on Guntram’s attacking forces. At this stage, it appears the battle was going the way of the defenders. As Bachrach puts it ‘Gregory makes it clear that the defenders had much the better of the siege, at least during its initial stages’.

Regardless, Duke Bladast, who supported Gundovald, thought Convenae could not hold, likely due to the taunts, but also due to the fact that the besieging army was building an agger- a great ramp or mound- opposite the east wall. Bachrach suggests ‘the likelihood that the city would not be relieved, when considered in conjunction with the apparent dedication of the besiegers to their task, undoubtedly lowered the morale of Convenae’s defenders.’ Bladast, in response to the attacking threat, set fire to the church-house in Convenaea and when the soldiers came to put it out, he escaped unnoticed. However, as we shall see, Bladast was not the only one afraid of Guntram’s attacking forces.

The besiegers soon sent messengers to Duke Mummolus, a general of Gundovald, asking him to ‘Acknowledge your true overlord’. Upon hearing this the Duke said ‘I am well aware that we are at the end of our tether, and that we have no more power to resist. For me there is only one course open’. Together with Bishop Sagittarius, Chariulf and Waddo, Mummolus made his way to the cathedral. There they made an oath to break their alliance with Gundovald and hand him over to his enemies. Guntram’s messengers came back again and said their lives would be spared if they followed through with their treacherous plan. Mummolus, with Bishop Sagittarius and Waddo, went off to interview Gundovald. They asked him to seek an audience with Guntram, his supposed brother. They said that the Burgundian King did not want to lose the support Gundovald could provide. Gundovald knew he was being tricked and cried out ‘It was at your inivitation that I came to Gaul’ and that ‘through you I hoped to become King.’ Mummolus replied saying ‘there is nothing treacherous in what we have said’. However, Gundovald was wise and said ‘I am not such a fool that I cannot see through your words’. Nevertheless, betrayed and with no other options available, Gundovald went out of Convenae to be received by the besiegers.

Knowing he was betrayed, Gundovald cried ‘O God’ and ‘eternal judge, true Avenger of the innocent, from whom all justice must proceed. Whom no deceit can ever please, in whom can be no treachery, no craft, no maliciousness, it is to You that I, Gundovald, commend my cause. I ask You to avenge me with all speed on those who have betrayed me in my innocence into the hands of these, my enemies’. As he proceeded out of Convenae, Ullo, a man of Guntram, pushed Gundovald over and thrust a lance at him. However, Gundovald survived the blow. Boso (not Guntram Boso) also one of Guntram’s men, threw a stone at the pretender. Gundovald was hit in the head and fell down and died. The mob surrounded him and prodded him with their spears. They tied his feet together with a rope and dragged him through the whole army encampment. They pulled out his hair and beard. Then they left his body unburied on the spot where he had met his death.

The next night the leading men of Convenae took into possession and protection all the treasure they could. When day dawned the gates were flung open and the army allowed in. All the common people were put to the sword, meanwhile the whole city and all the churches and every single building was burnt to the ground. This concluded the Siege of Convenae and marked the end of The Gundovald Affair.

Aftermath and Conclusion

The traitors did not meet a happy fate. Mummolus and Sagittarius were slain by Guntram’s men, the attackers did not keep their promise. It was also rumoured Waddo and Chariulf were slain. Meanwhile, Gundovald’s legacy could be found through his sons, who later in the Histories, are mentioned as being in Spain. As these examples show, the ramifications of The Gundovald Affair did not finish with the pretender’s death. Nevertheless, the fall of Convenae to Guntram’s army marks the end of our story today. For it was here that the exciting series of events that characterised the revolt came to an end. The Gundovald Affair, without a doubt, was one of the dramatic and important episodes in the history of Merovingian Gaul.

That’s it, this concludes today’s episode on The Gundovald Affair. I hope you have enjoyed it! If you want to see the script for this episode, as well as the bibliography of sources I used, please visit my blog. Also, please feel free to comment if you have any questions. Last of all, I hope to see you soon and goodbye.

Bibliography:

Bachrach, Bernard S. The Anatomy of a Little War:: A Diplomatic and Military History of the Gundovald Affair: 568-586. Boulder: Westview Press,1994.

Goffart, Walter. “Byzantine policy in the West under Tiberius II and Maurice: the pretenders Hermenegild and Gundovald (579-585).” Traditio (1957): 73-118.

Goffart, Walter. “The Frankish Pretender Gundovald, 582–585. A Crisis of Merovingian Blood.” Francia 39 (2012): 1-27.

Gregory of Tours, Ten Books of Histories translated by Lewis Thorpe in The History of the Franks. London: Penguin, 1974.

Wood, Ian. The Merovingian Kingdoms 450-751. London: Routledge, 1994.

Wood, Ian N. “The secret histories of Gregory of Tours.” Revue belge de philologie et d’histoire 71, no. 2 (1993): 253-270.

Review: Theoderic and The Imperial Roman Restoration

Was Theoderic the Great considered as a Roman emperor by his subjects? Did the early sixth century see a revival within the Roman Empire? These are the central arguments in Johnathan Arnold’s 2014 bookTheoderic and The Roman Imperial Restoration.’ This post will review this work and assess how successfully it makes these points.

Arnold’s evidence mainly comes from Ennodius and Cassiodorus, so he starts his argument by introducing their major works. In particular, Ennodius’s Life of Epiphanius and Panegyric on Theoderic, as well as Cassiodorus’ Variae. These chapters, in part one of Arnold’s book, serve as useful introductions. As I already have a degree of knowledge about the Variae, I found the section on Ennodius more helpful. However, this was not due to the fault of the author, the chapter on Cassiodorus was still serviceable enough, even if it is not the most expansive account. Part one also establishes some other key components of Arnold’s thesis. It introduces the idea that the fifth century saw a period of decline within the Roman Empire- which is pivotal when arguing Theoderic’s reign saw a period of revival. This period of decline was not just under the rex Odovacer, who deposed Romulus Augustus, but had been endemic to a series of leaders throughout the past century. Whereas, Arnold also discusses the extent to which the categories of Roman and Barbarian were becoming conflated during this period. For example, Ennodius, at times (though not always), saw the barbarian Ricimer as more civilised and arguably more Roman than the Eastern Roman Anthemius during their conflict with each other. Part one thus acts as an introduction to Cassiodorus and Ennodius, while also sowing the seeds of some of Arnold’s later arguments.

Part two of ‘Theoderic and the Roman Imperial Restoration’ further elaborates Arnold’s discussion. In particular, the first chapter of this section discusses Theoderic’s relationship with the Eastern Empire, as well the titles used by Theoderic. The latter topic is especially interesting, the terms for a ruler of the Western Empire had to some degree lost their meaning. Theoderic did not need to be called Imperator to be considered as a emperor, over titles such as rex and princeps were still suitable. Theoderic often employed the latter as, according to Arnold, it evoked images of the ‘glory days’ of the first century, when the emperors were considered as first citizens in a republic. The section on terminology is thought-provoking addition to Arnold’s argument, as it denounces the idea one had to be called ’emperor’ in order to be recognised as one. In terms of Theoderic’s relationship to the Eastern Empire, Arnold suggests ‘Theoderic promoted the traditional idea of imperial and unity and fraternity with the East, yet staked a claim to the West’s separate existence as one of two Roman republics.’ Naturally, he also altered his portrayal of the Eastern Empire depending on whether he was in contact with them or alternatively Italo-Romans. Part two of Arnold’s work focuses on Theoderic’s imperial image, in particular it consults the visual sources available to do this. Apart from the possible absence of wearing a diadem, Theoderic, according to Arnold, presented himself in a way that Italo-Romans would expect of an emperor. It sections such as these it can sometimes feel like Arnold is in danger of overstretching the evidence, in particular surrounding his Imperial image, however thankfully Arnold’s study is reflexive enough to avoid this.

The first chapter of part three of Arnold’s work firstly analyses Gothicness and its role in the Roman Empire. This section was especially interesting for me, due to the fact that my undegraduate dissertation argued for the irrelevance of ethnicity in Ostrogothic Italy. Nevertheless, Arnold argues that there was indeed a distinction between Goths and Romans under Theoderic, but also that Gothicness became just another form of Romaness available. In other words, Goths were not seen as ‘barbarian savages’ most of the time, but as representing martialism and old Roman virtues. They were symbols of the revival of old Roman values. The next chapter focuses on Theoderic’s Greek upbringing and education and how this might have made his life easier in Italy (even if still occasionally alienated some Western Romans). Arnold also covers Theoderic’s Amal descent in this chapter and discusses how this was also used to legitimise his rule and helped the idea of revival.

The next section focuses on how the province of Liguria and the city of Rome both saw a revival under Theoderic. These areas had suffered heavily during the period of decline already mentioned. Liguria also needed attention due to the damage caused by the war between Odovacer and Theoderic, which meant its loyalty to Theoderic may have been precarious. By consulting the Life of Epiphanius again Arnold describes how Theoderic gained the support of this region. He also discusses the improvements Theoderic made to a number of northern cities such as Verona, Como and Parma. In the chapter on Rome, Arnold emphasises how the city had been neglected by his recent emperors, with the capital either being Ravenna, Milan or Pavia. The city was thus graced with an extended Imperial visit in 500, which Arnold describes in some detail, while he also mentions a number of restoration projects in The Eternal City. Furthermore, to these points, Arnold also shows how Theoderic showed respect and deference to the Senate, therefore fitting in with his ideology of being a princeps or first citizen of a Roman republic.

The final section in ‘Theoderic and the Roman Imperial Restoration’ focuses on the Ostrogothic reconquest of Gaul. This is a welcome addition, as there is not much in the secondary literature on this subject. However, it is a shame that Arnold does not cover Theoderic’s other additions to his ’empire’ in this section, but this is somewhat understandable due to the little amount of information on them in the primary sources. The first chapter focuses on Italo-Roman attitudes to Gaul and how these manifested in a number of ways. These included old stereotypes, such as of the province being more ‘barbarian’ than Italy to more positive images based on their literary culture. The last chapter of this section focuses on the actual conquest of Gaul and how Theoderic gained the loyalty of his new subjects in his new province. It therefore also mentions some of the new administrative structures put in place as well, such as a Prefect of Gaul and a vicar.

Overall, ‘Theoderic and the Roman Imperial Restoration’ is a solidly argued and nuanced book. At times it might risk overemphasise or even sometimes the opposite, but overall its discussion is very convincing and elaborate. It therefore seems we may need change how we see the fall of the Western Empire, with it no longer ending in 476 with the deposition of Romulus Augustus. As Arnold puts it ‘there was no need for Justinian to restore the Western Empire: Theoderic had already done so.’

Boethius’ Philosophy of Language

The Late Antique philosopher Boethius is primarily known for The Consolation of Philosophy. However, this only forms a small, if still important, part of the corpus of texts produced or translated by him. In this post, I will discuss the key aspects of his philosophy of language and signification. In particular, by focusing on his first and second commentaries on Aristotles’ Peri Hermeneias (On Interpretation).

Boethius followed a rich tradition of translation and commentary on Aristotle’s Peri Hermeneias. The Peripatetic School placed it second in Aristotle’s logical works. Ammonius, Alexander of Aphrodisias and Porphry all commented on it. The latter is important because Boethius may have heavily relied on him. Although, Ebbsen suggests other possibilities; that he used many commentaries without privilege, relied on a lost source which in used Porphry or simply had one codex of Aristotle’s logical works. However, despite potentially relying on other sources, the space Boethius dedicated to a theory of language is impressive. It is this I will focus on in this post, in particular the earlier parts where he distinguishes between the different elements of signification.

Understanding Boethius’ philosophy of language firstly describes the conditions necessary for an interpretation to occur. He writes ‘when these three occur: the percussion of a tongue, the articulate sound of voice, and the mental image during the utterance, an interpretatio occurs’. Boethius dedicates far more of his commentaries discussing the last clause. However, there are still some interesting points about speech. Firstly, he distinguishes between an articulate sound that gets it meaning fully across and an inarticulate one, like a cough, which does not. Secondly, his theory is logocentric by emphasising speech over writing. Boethius states ‘the written letters signify the spoken words’ and states this again later . Therefore, he follows a long tradition of giving speech primacy over the written word.

The mental aspect is by far the most developed part of Boethius’ philosophy of language. Before a person speaks about a thing, they must first develop a understanding or conception of it. As Boethius puts it ‘the things are what we perceive in our minds and discern by our intellect, the concepts are our means of acquiring the things’. A thing, in this context, simply refers to something in reality the mind can discern, such as a object. However, Boethius suggests there are several steps the mind must go through in order to fully understand a thing. Firstly, one must have a sensual or cognitive awareness of a thing. Then an imagination of a thing arises. Next, a supervening intellect intervenes, ‘developing all those parts which had been confusedly pictured before in the imagination.’ The supervening intelligence operates on the image of a thing through the likeness of the thing in reality to the concept the mind has developed.

This process is common to all human beings and the end product can be described as a ‘mental language’. This point is key for understanding Boethius’ philosophy of language because and the way he distinguishes between language which is used in speech and language which is used in the mind. Using the example of a Roman, Greek and ‘Barbarian’, Boethius describes how all three would use different words to describe a horse. As a result, they might not understand each other vocally. However, despite this they would still share the same image in their mind. All humans share a common mental language.

Boethius’ philosophy of language therefore has several distinct features. The separation between vocal and mental languages being one of the most important. Several interesting questions could be raised based on his theory. Would it be possible to link the way Boethius prioritises different forms of language to his metaphysics? What are the implications of Boethius’ belief in all humans sharing a similar mental language? Finally, what role does writing take, when it is not just secondary to speech, but also inferior to the language of the mind? Nevertheless, Boethius’ philosophy of language, while not as developed as Augustine’s, is certainly an interesting topic.

Bibliography:

Primary Sources:

Boethius, First Commentary on Aristotle’s Peri Hermeneias translated by Hans Arens in Aristotle’s Theory of Language and its Tradition. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1984.

Boethius, Second Commentary on Aristotle’s Peri Hermeneias translated by Hans Arens in Aristotle’s Theory of Language and its Tradition. Amsterdam: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1984.

Secondary Sources:

Cameron, Margaret. “Boethius on Understanding, Utterances and Reality.” In The Cambridge Companion to Boethius edited by John Matenbon, 85-104. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.

Chadwick, Henry. The Consolations of Music, Logic, Theology and Philosophy. Oxford: Oxford University, 1981.

Ebbesen, Sten. “The Aristotleian Commentator.” In The Cambridge Companion to Boethius edited by John Matenbon, 34-55. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.

Marenbon, John. Boethius. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003.