Alexander the Great in Arrian's Anabasis: A Literary Portrait by Vasileios Liotsakis

Abstract

BOOK REVIEWS/COMPTES RENDUS 179 that” school of thought, to such an extent that all the arguments presented can sometimes sound like variations on one. So it is that “the ruler reveals his reliance on those he is supposed to dominate even when he compels his subjects to acknowledge his power” (15), while in Thyestes and Agamemnon “the act of viewing is simultaneously an expression of power and of powerlessness” (98), and Trimalchio’s body is “at once singularly worthy of consideration and essentially the same as all others” (144). Where so much material is covered it will always be possible to pick a hole or two. The book ends with a kind of flourish, presenting Tacitus’ analysis of monarchical power as a tool for understanding the dangers inherent in our own surrender of so much privacy to modern digital technology. This is a bold claim, but it is not so much argued as asserted provocatively and has the look of something that works better as an idea tossed around in the seminar room than it ever can in sober print. In all likelihood, too, a hundred and sixty-seven pages of discussion simply cannot provide sufficient space for all that this book sets out to do. Such ambition in her scholarship is nonetheless to Fertik’s credit, and she has a mind fertile in ideas and refreshingly unwilling to let itself be hemmed in by the traditional boundaries that still often divide the study of ancient history and material culture from that of ancient literature. Production meets a high standard. Errors and omissions in translation are very rare (e.g., tot milia gladiorum is rendered as “the thousand swords,” 13), and misprints rarer still (but read premit in the third line of the quotation from Seneca at 189, n. 47). There is, however, some ambiguity about the identity and professional competencies of the intended readers, who, it seems, need to be told a great deal of elementary information about ancient Rome (e.g., “Augustus, the founder of Rome’s first imperial house . . . . Gaius Asinius Pollio, a historian in the early first century CE,” 9), but are expected to be reasonably conversant with “standpoint theory” (52). Meticulous sign-posting and recapping of the conclusions reached, however, make it very easy indeed to follow what is being said, and those who do read this book, and who are inspired by Fertik to contribute to the debates she presents, will have no trouble finding the right place in which to insert themselves. Indeed, efficiency rather than pleasure in reading seems to be the goal, but, although that laudable goal is achieved, it is not without some loss in other respects. When Fertik observes with reference to Tiberius’ secluded Villa Iovis that “in a sense, the emperor’s guests on Capri became an audience for his vanishing act” (62), she displays evidence of a talent for delightful epigram that could have done much to enliven things had it been more often and more readily indulged. University of Toronto Michael Dewar Alexander the Great in Arrian's ANABASIS: A Literary Portrait. By Vasileios Liotsakis. Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter (Trends in Classics Suppl. 78). 2019. Pp. xi, 284, 3 tables. Surviving literary accounts of Alexander’s life still form the core of most historical studies of his reign, and Arrian’s Anabasis has a reputation as the most reliable source available, though perhaps not as unquestionably as it once did. Arrian’s use of the eyewitness accounts of Ptolemy and Aristobulus, combined with his narrow focus on military affairs, presents an attractively low level of interference for modern historians, and while all agree that it is important to bear his literary goals in mind while mining 180 PHOENIX his narrative for details, no one has yet made this point as forcefully and thoroughly as Vasileios Liotsakis. His book is an absolute must-read for anyone hoping to use Arrian’s work as a source for history. Through an extended narratological analysis of Arrian’s Anabasis, Liotsakis goes beyond readings that rely heavily on source criticism— still regrettably common—and provides a model for crafting superior approaches. The introduction offers a thorough yet concise history...