In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Maps for the Classical World: Where Do We Go from Here?Richard TalbertThe apa’s classical atlas project was conceived as the means to an end, and rightly so. Good maps were taken to be vital tools for understanding ancient history and culture at any level, and the ones available in the early 1980s were altogether woefully inadequate. The project was designed to fill this void by preparing a comprehensive atlas (...) for publication in the not-too-distant future.To make a definitive claim at this moment that the target of publication by the end of 1999 will be met must still rank as hubris. Without doubt, however, the odds have increasingly shifted over the past few years in favor of timely completion. As everyone knows, the problems of designing, funding, and developing any ambitious collaborative project are immense, and the atlas has been handed its full share of such difficulties and more. Yet gradually the difficulties seem to have been surmounted, and the project—at present, anyway—remains resolutely on schedule, as much to the surprise of its Director as to everyone else.As the odds have shifted, so, too, has my own perception of the project as an end. To be sure, the maps appearing in the atlas volume will offer the intended comprehensive vision of the physical and cultural landscape of classical antiquity that has been so seriously lacking since Carl Müller provided the last one for William Smith’s Atlas of Ancient Geography in the 1870s. Further gains are assured, too. In particular, to accommodate different needs, it should certainly prove practical to issue the maps in a variety of alternative formats—in sets of loose sheets, for example (with or without cultural data marked on the ancient physical landscape), as wall-maps, slides, digitized images, even a reduced-size textbook atlas. One way or another, these maps have the potential to exert a formative influence on our perception of the classical landscape for many decades to come.Even at the current stage, well before publication, the Atlas Project [End Page 323] has already stimulated fresh attention to cartography: this has grown without any special effort on the project’s part. Most notably, colleagues have become aware that there is now for the first time somewhere to which they can turn as they seek out suitable cartographic materials and design for their research or publications or field survey.Classical studies worldwide would benefit immensely if that “somewhere” were to be made a permanent “center,” established around the same time as the publication of the Atlas of the Greek and Roman World. In the creation of the atlas, both materials and expertise have been accumulated, which it would be irresponsible simply to abandon. The materials cover a wide range—from elements for all the aeronautical charts forming the physical bases for the atlas maps, to copies of older rare maps devoted to classical antiquity.Such maps (and whatever text accompanies them) are by no means necessarily all about to be rendered obsolete by the atlas. The French “archaeological atlases” of Algeria and Tunisia, for example, were compiled by the Brigades Topographiques in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries at scales as generous as 1 : 50,000, whereas the atlas limits itself to 1 : 500,000 in this region (and the area covered by one map at 1 : 500,000 corresponds to literally dozens at 1 : 50,000). Thus for any study with a close focus on Algeria or Tunisia, these French series remain indispensable, although the Tunisian one, with its two editions, is exceptionally rare and hard to obtain. Typically, the few libraries that hold this material have bound the original loose sheet maps into books (rendering it impossible to use the sheets individually), and for obvious reasons, they are not willing lenders. The Atlas Project, I imagine, has been the first to photograph the printed map sheets onto transparent plastic positives. These are sturdy, dimensionally stable, and immune from the fading and deterioration of paper; in addition, when they are laid on top of other maps, everything underneath remains visible.Examples of further cartographic materials for the classical world which will continue to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 122.3 (2001) 451-454 [Access article in PDF] Susan P. Mattern. Rome and the Enemy: Imperial Strategy in the Principate. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1999. xxi + 259 pp. Cloth, $35.00. This well-written book is nothing if not bold. Its time frame is, broadly speaking, the first two and a half centuries A.D. Its basis is the view that has met increasingly (...) wide acceptance over the past quarter-century, that the Romans' conduct of foreign relations was altogether different from what we assume of modern states. The Roman mindset, motivation, intelligence, and strategy are all alien to us and thus require evaluation on their own terms. Consequently, in five chapters Mattern first examines the character and education of Rome's small decision-making elite. She next moves to their "image of the world," variously gained through campaigning, geographical knowledge, intelligence, and ethnology. A chapter on strategy follows, treating the size and deployment of the Roman army and the different means by which the empire was defined and defended. Income and expenditure are the focus of the fourth chapter, with particular reference to the expense of maintaining the army, the cost of warfare, and the economic gain to be made from conquests. Finally a chapter on "values" concludes the book--the unashamed glorification of conquest, the prestige accruing to the Romans in general and to the emperor in particular, and reinforcement of the sense that it was discipline, both moral and organizational, that made Rome supreme over other peoples. [End Page 451]The discussion of all these aspects displays insight and balanced judgment, and the accompanying bibliography is valuable (some notes are repetitious, however: cf. 117 n. 163 with 172 n. 36). The work of Ampelius (ed. Budé 1993) might have been cited (25) as another example of how weak even a schoolmaster's geographical knowledge could be. Although, to be sure, it is true that "bird's-eye view" was hardly an option for Roman representations of the world (26), we might still recall Artemidorus' (Oneirocritica 2.68) vision of dreamers flying along and looking down at the landscape below, while the presentation of Rome's Marble Plan is large-scale and ichnographic. The Tabula Banasitana (AE 1971.534) merits citing as a prime example of Marcus Aurelius' pondering with care the bestowal of benefits upon people on a remote fringe of the empire (180). In stating that we shall never know where the Teutoburg Forest was, let alone the site of Varus' defeat (167), Mattern seems to overlook the finds made at Kalkriese (see now W. Schlüter in J. D. Creighton and R. J. A. Wilson, eds., Roman Germany: Studies in Cultural Interaction [1999] 125-59); equally, she shows no awareness of a kernel of truth in the tradition that Hadrian abandoned Dacia, at least in part (104; cf. Barrington Atlas, Directory, 1376). In treating the Roman concern to save "face" (177), there is more to be made of L. Caesennius Paetus as scapegoat. The major step of annexing Armenia must surely reflect instructions he brought with him from Rome, rather than just a personal preference (cf. 92 n. 46), but all the blame for the rapid, catastrophic failure of the annexation attempt is then heaped upon him alone. Tacitus grasped Rome's vulnerability in this region. He has the Parthian cavalry commander Vasaces coolly dismiss Paetus' bluster about long-standing Roman control there: "imaginem retinendi largiendive penes nos, vim penes Parthos" (Ann. 15.14). Later, after Corbulo's diplomatic victory, Tacitus can detail the official tokens of respect insisted upon by Tiridates during his journey to Rome and conclude ironically: "scilicet externae superbiae sueto non inerat notitia nostri apud quos vis imperii valet, inania tramittuntur" (Ann. 15.31).These and other sundry observations aside, it is the book's principal thesis that invites comment, namely Mattern's sweeping claim: "I would argue that Rome's real strategy lay in the realm of psychology. The empire was defended not by 'scientific frontiers,' however we might choose to... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 123.3 (2002) 529-534 [Access article in PDF] Colin Adams and Ray Laurence, eds. Travel and Geography in the Roman Empire. London and New York: Routledge, 2001. x + 202 pp. 48 black-and-white figures. Cloth, $75. Five of the six contributions to this varied and valuable collection of essays originated as papers delivered at the 1999 Roman Archaeology Conference in Durham, England. The sixth and longest (...) piece, by Benet Salway, was then added, together with an introduction by one co-editor (Adams) and an afterword by the [End Page 529] other (Laurence). Notes follow each contribution, with a consolidated bibliography and index at the end. Although in black and white only, the range of photos, figures, and maps is appropriately extensive.The volume stems from due recognition that geographical knowledge and travel in the Roman world are topics at last attracting the serious attention they deserve. Between them, the contributions amply demonstrate how even some of the aspects most fundamental to our understanding stir deep controversy and how incomplete the exploitation of much of the diverse source material has been to date. Happily, the emergence of exciting new discoveries is prompting fresh examination of testimony long known and neglected.Useful, though limited in scope, is Anne Kolb's "Transport and Communication in the Roman State: The cursus publicus" (95-105), which mainly confines itself to identifying those categories of imperial officials and other individuals entitled to use the service (more properly referred to as vehiculatio during the Principate). By contrast, the support Kolb offers for the doubtful claim that transport of freight—other than baggage accompanying officials—was a "relatively unimportant" aspect of the service, even in the Late Empire (102), remains inadequate. Throughout, changes to the service over such a long span seem underappreciated (not least, for example, Nerva's removal of the burden from Italy).Adams modestly characterizes his contribution "'There and Back Again': Getting around in Roman Egypt" (138-66) as descriptive rather than analytical. His aim is to demonstrate the scope and value of the testimony preserved on papyri, and he does this engagingly, with unfailing regard for the impact of Egypt's unique geography and topography on travel there. Even though its publication dates back to 1952, few readers are likely to be familiar with the extensive archive preserving an itinerary and accounts for Theophanes' return journey from Antinoopolis to Antioch around 320 (160-62). Even fewer will be aware of the record of travelers and animals accommodated overnight, and rations issued to them, kept by the two large, busy mansiones in the Oxyrhynchite nome during the mid-fourth century and only published in 1994 (142-44). Vivid illustration of the multiple hazards awaiting travelers by road from causes both natural and human (154-56) can serve as a sobering counterbalance to the ideal conditions evoked by Aelius Aristides and quoted earlier by Adams (as eulogy) in the Introduction (1-2). One manifestation of "recreational" travel, which seems strangely absent from the discussion, on page 157 in particular, is pilgrimage (note, in general, Der Neue Pauly, s.v. Pilgerschaft 1).Jon Coulston's "Transport and Travel on the Column of Trajan" (106-37) is another predominantly descriptive contribution but one well geared to substantiate its conclusion: "The conflict is not simply between Romans and Dacians, Trajan and Decebalus. It is also a contest between Romans and barbarians, disciplina and perturbatio, labor and inertia, imperial virtues and enemy perfidy, civilisation and untamed nature, urbanisation and wilderness" (129-30). Description, moreover, is justified here when no other piece of Roman propaganda art, [End Page 530] before or after, depicts armies on the move—tents (for which soldiers were charged! [Tacitus Annals 1.17.4]), carts, pack animals, equipment, provisions, along roads, over bridges—with such amazing fullness and detail. We possess no more forceful illustration of the huge "train" that had to accompany every legion (118-19; the comparison made with Ottoman armies on campaign in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries is instructive). Coulston's acute observation, lucid presentation, and reluctance to overinterpret... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Tacitus and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone PatreRichard J. A. TalbertWhen our seminar organizers generously invited me to contribute a paper on a topic of my choice, it was a surprise to learn that no discussion of the relationship between Tacitus and the SCPP had already been proposed. This relationship is, after all, one of the most rewarding aspects stemming from the discovery of the document, though inevitably (...) in the limited space available here it will be feasible to explore only two or three dimensions of it.In my abstract, formulated far in advance, I proposed to discuss:1. The contribution, if any, which the SCPP makes to our understanding of Tacitus’ use of the acta senatus2. The placing of the trial episode in Tacitus’ narrative: in particular, if he has deliberately distorted the chronology of a.d. 20, how is our estimate of him as a historian affected, if at all?3. The ways in which Tacitus’ selection and focus of material compare with the SCPP.By the date the seminar convened, however, it was evident that I had no more than cautionary words to contribute about the acta senatus. We still need to establish their precise format, and the SCPP seems to be no help in this regard. In my book (Talbert 1984) I had argued that Tacitus did make extensive use of the acta, 1 and the discovery of the SCPP certainly has done nothing to alter that conviction. At the same time I grant that, even with the SCPP, we still lack proof of this extensive use. Indeed the sheer celebrity of Piso’s case surely diminishes the likelihood of such proof from the SCPP, because it is clear that for this particular episode there was an exceptional range of sources available. Tacitus makes a point of demonstrating how he exploited the range, seeking out evidence of appearances by Antonia (3.3.3), for example, and citing remarks that he recalled seniores making (3.16.1). I should [End Page 89] hesitate to join Werner Eck and Harriet Flower in stating unequivocally that—to use the latter’s words (1997, 709)—“Tacitus’ main source [for the trial] is the acta senatus.” But equally I could not support a claim that the acta senatus made no contribution to his account, either directly, or through one or more intermediaries.To move on to the character of Tacitus’ account and its placing within his narrative of the year 20, it is clear that much can hinge on when during the year the trial is reckoned to have taken place. Frankly, I am no longer convinced either by Eck’s view, or by my own modification of it introduced at the Capri meeting in 1994 and kindly noted by him in the definitive first edition. 2In brief, Eck dates the trial by taking the day that the SCPP was passed (10 December), and then immediately working back according to the intervals cited by Tacitus (3.13.1). At the outset two days were assigned to the prosecution of Piso, and then—after a six-day interval—his defense was to have three (this is the standard ratio of time for each side). In the event, it was after the first or second day of those three that Piso committed suicide. Thereafter, in Eck’s view, the trial was continued and concluded with a minimum of delay, although the only further indication of time offered by Tacitus (3.17.3) is that Plancina’s case took up two days. On this reckoning Eck can fairly maintain that the trial proceedings began somewhere between 28 and 30 November, and concluded with the SCPP on 10 December.At the Capri meeting I cautiously raised various concerns with this timetable. 3 For present purposes only the main one matters, namely that an extraordinary amount of pleading, testifying, proposing, and drafting will have to have been concentrated within an uncomfortably tight time frame. Consequently, I argued for pushing the start of the proceedings farther back into November by some days to permit a less hectic pace.Eck was evidently not persuaded, and perhaps this is of little consequence because clearly... (shrink)