Faustus' products are mold made terracotta lamps of Bailey Type A with volute and discus (late first century bce to early first century ce) and are known from sites in the Roman East: Cyprus, Egypt, Sabratha (Libya), and Tel Anafa (Israel) among others. His lamps feature discus reliefs executed with artistic skill and confidence, and a signature in the genitive case, FAVSTI, inscribed (not stamped) into the base.
Donald M. Bailey at the British Museum suggested the possibility of a peripatetic career for Faustus based on the observation that Faustus' lamps appear to be made from different clays. John J. Dobbins at the University of Virginia made the same observation during his work with the lamps from the University of Missouri and University of Michigan excavations at Tel Anafa. To confirm his hypothesis that Faustus used more than one clay source, Dobbins utilized the assistance of the University of Virginia Research Reactor to subject samples from several visibly different Faustus lamps as well as several other ceramics from Tel Anafa to Neutron Activation Analysis. The results were surprising. Not only was the clay composition of the Faustus lamps consistent, but it was also consistent with the other ceramic products from the site.
The next phase of the project involved expanding the NAA analysis to consider Faustus lamps from other sites as well as Tel Anafa. The Metropolitan Museum of Art and The British Museum generously provided samples of several of their Faustus lamps. The second NAA project was able to test lamps from Tel Anafa, Egypt, Cyprus, Petra, and two lamps described as Italian fabric. In addition, several samples of ceramics from Tel Anafa were tested.
The second NAA confirmed the preliminary findings of the first and added new dimensions to the study. Again, the Tel Anafa Faustus lamps were quite similar compositionally, and equally similar to the other ceramics from Tel Anafa. However, lamps from both Egypt and Cyprus did not have consistent chemical compositions. These sites apparently received lamps made at more than one production site. The results confirm that Faustus used more than one clay source and suggest that potters supplying the site of Tel Anafa also utilized one of these sources. A combination of NAA and paleography provides further information about workshop organization. The inscribed signatures showed distinctive variations which represent the hands of workers associated with the Faustus workshop. Results of the NAA showed in two cases that lamps with the same signature type were produced from different clays. This suggests that the signers moved with the shop, and thus argues against simultaneously operating branch workshops.
At present we know of eighty-five Faustus lamps. In addition to the results of our specific studies, we would like to publish a catalogue of Faustus' lamps. If you should know the location of any or could suggest scholars to contact, please contact me.
Kathleen M. Lynch
McIntire Department of Art
University of Virginia, Fayerweather Hall
Charlottesville, VA 22903
kml2k@virginia.edu
The DIGMASTER project involves authoring database documents for delivery in MOSAIC. When ready, DIGMASTER documents will be accessible on internet connections via MSUinfo, Mississippi State University's World Wide Web link. Persons from anywhere in the world may thus review LRP findings.
Current work on DIGMASTER includes preparation of two initial documents. Document I will feature over 500 Persian and Iron Age figurine fragments recovered from Field IV in 1992 and 1993. This document is conceived as a master catalogue of artifacts, showing each item in digitized color photographs and line drawings, accompanied by detailed descriptive text. In addition, full information on the archaeological context of the objects may be accessed via hyperlinks to related locus summaries, artifact sample lists, and special study reports. Field photographs, plans, and sections will be similarly accessible in the database.
Document II will feature the Chalcolithic and EB I period material excavated from Site 101 at Halif between 1986 and 1993. This document is conceived in a more conventional form, beginning with text describing the site stratigraphy with hyperlinks to plans, sections, field photos, locus lists, and other materials, including object and pottery drawings, and photographs. Through the hyperlinks the user may move about in a non-linear fashion, pulling to the screen whatever photos, texts, and drawings may be of immediate interest.
Paul F. Jacobs (Mississippi State) serves as the principal author/coordinator for Document I, with Eleanor Beach (Gustavus Adolphus College) and James Hardin (University of Arizona) as key research associates. The author will direct work on Document II with J. P. Dessel as research associate.
Presentation of archaeological information in MOSAIC has several major advantages: data can be put on-line at an early stage of processing and thus be made available more rapidly; the user can have access to more, if not all, excavated evidence because the format is not limited by the costs of publishing in print; and the user can "browse," freely print, download, and otherwise use the files according to individual interest. An added bonus is the possibility of creating mechanisms for dialogue between authors and users via "note systems" or "white pages." It is especially important to note that DIGMASTER documents are conceived basically as "databases" and not as final publications. While the ultimate plan for Lahav materials includes printed interpretive reports formed from these database materials, its developers hope that by sharing excavated data early and generously in this way, the overall study and interpretation will be stimulated in formative and constructive ways.
Joe D. Seger
Many of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings were flooded, but there was no obvious short-term damage. The mortuary temple of Sety I was in the path of the flood, which took away the main (modern) gate and various sections of the thick brick enclosure wall. A stele which stood near the first pylon was knocked flat, and recently excavated areas were filled with mud and partly obliterated. I saw a two meter high water mark in the front court, and the ground was still soft at the end of December. Limestone blocks in the area of the first pylon are showing signs of extreme salinization and are beginning to crumble. Visitors to the other temples in Luxor report similar cases of salt damage.
The private tombs of the Nobles have perhaps suffered the most. The Antiquities Organization has opened a number of those lower down in the hills, and these would appear to have been at most risk. One of these tombs suffered the most serious damage I saw as a result of the rains. The tomb of Pairy (no. 139) is built into a stratum of poor quality rock known locally as tafl. When this stone is exposed to water, it first expands and then disintegrates. When the walls of the tomb of Pairy became wet, the base of tafl material expanded and then collapsed, causing two of the three decorated walls in the tomb to fall to the ground. The situation was made worse by the fact that the painted plaster fell into standing water. Accidents like this reinforce the importance of documenting and conserving these tombs.
The Antiquities Organization in Luxor now faces a huge task, as damage from this flood continues to manifest itself in the months to come.
Nigel Strudwick
Thus far, the earliest remains are from the Late Bronze I. At least thirteen restorable vessels, including several pithoi, were discovered on a beaten earth floor and dated by the presence of bichrome ware. The nature of the building associated with these vessels has not yet been determined. For Late Bronze II, however, a large building complex with a courtyard has been identified. Pottery found in situ on its successive beaten earth surfaces includes both LB II and Iron I materials. The building was constructed in the LB II and reused with some modifications in Iron I. The size of the building suggests that it was not the simple household of a peasant farmer, while its date points to continuity between LBII and Iron I at the site.
After a gap of over a century, occupation at Tel 'Ein Zippori resumed in the tenth century bce. On the upper tier of the site is a large, well constructed multi-roomed building measuring at least eleven by fifteen meters. With well-hewn stones for door-jambs and extensive burnt mudbrick deposits, this building also appears to have been more than a peasant farmstead. Tenth century remains, including an extensive (eleven m) terrace wall, also were found on the lower tier of the site. Rectangular rooms with domestic assemblages, including three "cup-and-saucer" vessels, were uncovered in this area.
Materials from the ninth century were recovered in the trench cut across the western slope. The pottery, domestic in character, was found in the remains of a building consisting of a wall with a stone bench and two upright pillars.
Both the LBII-Iron I and the tenth century buildings are larger than might be expected in a small rural village. The excavations at Tel 'Ein Zippori thus pose interesting questions about rural elites and ethnicity in a site located within the traditional boundaries of the Israelite tribe of Zebulon.
The excavations, part of the Sepphoris Regional Project sponsored by Duke University together with the University of Connecticut, will resume in 1996. Field director is J. P. Dessel; project directors are E. Meyers and C. Meyers.
Carol Meyers
In a second area of excavation, an extensive building of the Early Roman period was uncovered. Some of its rooms contained evidence (grinding stones, tabun fragments, animal bones) of food-processing activities, others contained fresco fragments and well-made plaster floors. Destroyed at the end of the first century bce or early first century ce, the building was partially occupied in late first century ce. An adjacent building to the south contains uniformly Late Roman ceramics, suggesting that modern disturbances of the site may have removed evidence of a possible Middle to Late Roman occupation in this area.
A third area of excavation focused on extending the work of the 1993 season, exposing a structure of the late sixth to early seventh centuries ce. Although there was some Early Roman occupation in this area, as evidenced by a miqveh (ritual bath), the building itself seems to be part of a Byzantine 2 commercial district, destroyed in the mid-seventh century and then partly re-used in the Early Arab period.
Careful analysis of the animal bones from each period reveals different faunal profiles. For example, pig bone is virtually absent before the mid-fourth century ce but thereafter appears regularly. At the same time, miqvaoth of the Roman period are no longer used in the Byzantine period. These two kinds of data suggest an ethnic reconfiguration following the mid-fourth century destruction of the western summit (due perhaps to the earth quake of 363 ce). That is, the apparently Jewish inhabitants of this domestic area of the Roman period may have been replaced by non-Jews in the Byzantine era.
The 1994 season was the second carried out by the Sepphoris Regional Project (SRP) which continues the 1985-89 work of the Joint Sepphoris Project. Sponsored by Duke University with the University of Connecticut, the 1994 excavations were directed by E. Meyers and C. Meyers of Duke University.
Carol Meyers
A review essay by Ronald L. Gorny
As the title of this collection of articles suggests, it discusses the question of relations between Anatolia and the Balkans. The scope of the book is limited, however, to postulated prehistoric links between the two geographic entities and the investigation of a proposed Euro-Anatolian cultural zone in which intensive human interaction is said to be manifest in the archaeological remains of both regions.
The inspiration behind this manuscript was a symposium held in Istanbul during November of 1991. A primary goal of the symposium was to bring together scholars from east and west who shared a common interest in relations between Anatolia and the Balkans, but had labored in separate worlds for decades. Participation was limited to roughly forty scholars who examined Balkan-Anatolian relations between 5,500 and 3,000 bce. This means that, for all intents and purposes, Anatolia and the Balkans is written by scholars for scholars. In other words, readers are expected to have some degree of familiarity with the fundamental issues or be willing to spend some time acquainting themselves with the material.
The manner in which Anatolia and the Balkans is published is Spartan in design, being fashioned in the same functional style as Anatolica itself. While the paper-bound volume is devoid of color photographs, it displays an abundance of quality black and white maps, drawings, and photographs. The twenty-five articles included in the volume are written in French, German, and English, making the mastery of several languages necessary for a full appreciation of its contents. Overall, the presentation is readable and well-organized, though a few typographical errors have crept into the narrative.
A difficulty for the uninitiated arises in the discrepancy between chronological designations for contemporary periods in Anatolia and the Balkans (for example, the so-called Middle Neolithic of Europe is contemporary with the Middle-Late Chalcolithic in Anatolia, see ·zdogan, p. 176 [author and page references are to Anatolia and the Balkans unless otherwise noted]). Further difficulties are encountered in the 'regionalization' of various cultures on the Balkan peninsula (Demoule, 1-17; JovanoviÇc, pp. 63-74; Pavþk, pp. 231-241; but cf. ·zdogan , pp. 174-176) and the resultant plethora of names which are totally unfamiliar to most students approaching the question from a Near Eastern background. Further confusion can stem from the fact that some authors use uncalibrated dates in their contributions (e.g., Demoule, Table 1, p. 14; Monah), while other do so in calibrated terms (e.g., Todorova, Thissen).
The connections between Anatolia and the Balkans in the prehistoric period are most forcefully laid out by Mehmet ·zdogan's article (pp. 173-193), whose presentation represents his most incisive contribution on a topic he has long championed. The fact that this collection of articles has appeared at all is a credit to ·zdogan, for without his efforts, this whole discussion would have remained on the back-burner for years to come.
The true significance of Anatolia and the Balkans, however, may be lost on the casual observer, for the impulse behind this volume goes back to the early twenties when Anatolia's apparent connections with the Balkan peninsula were first noted. Such views, however, were ahead of their time and smacked of "diffusionism" which was then under intense attack. The articulate and up-to-date manner with which this volume's articles explore the issue of Euro-Anatolian relations suggests that those who first championed this cause may not have been so far from the truth.
While a casual reading might have us believe the "diffusionist" controversy has become a thing of the past, the fact that it is not dead underlies the sensitivity shown by the contributors to the whole question of human movement and relationships in the region. Several of the authors, in deference to proponents of migration and diffusionism, couch their ideas in the more acceptable terminology of a common cultural zone, or as ·zdogan puts it, " 'a common developing zone', interacting within itself." This interaction, while not precluding some population movements (·zdogan , p. 179) is based on the assumption of internal development rather than external influence. The geographic range of this common cultural zone extends from the Hungarian Plain to the southeastern stretches of Anatolia where it is effectively cut off from contact with Mesopotamia by the Taurus Mountains.
Evidence suggests that contacts within this zone took place in two stages. The first, beginning around 5,500 bce (Thissen, pp. 302-303; Todorova, p. 307), continued until the beginning of the fourth millennium bce. There is a break in contact at this time, the reason for which remains unclear. Various events may have been responsible including tectonic activity, climatic changes which resulted in higher temperatures, extended periods of drought, erosion, changing sea levels, and nomadic invasions from the north Pontic steppes (Todorova, pp. 307-318; Lichardus-Itten, p. 101). The existing social system-so evident in the widespread uniformity of the Balkan Early Neolithic cultural network-collapsed, and the breakdown initiated an 800-year period of mostly local development (Demoule, p. 10; Makkay, p. 118, Todorova, pp. 307-311). The stabilization of environmental conditions at the end of the fourth millennium led to the development of the so-called "Troja-Baden Kulturblok" which witnessed a renewal of cultural interaction taking place in southeast Europe (pp. 315-16). Although Troy and the rest of Anatolia had been pulled increasingly into the Near Eastern sphere of influence by this time (·zdogan, p. 178), the improving conditions may well have set the stage for far-reaching relations between Anatolia and Europe during the Middle and Late Bronze Ages when an increasing demand for metallurgical expertise probably encouraged further contacts between the two areas.
The role played by the sea in developing this common cultural zone figures prominently in several contributions (Demoule, 1-17; Makkay, p. 123; Roodenberg, p. 257; Thissen, p. 303; Wijnen, p. 326: also see Thissen 1993, p. 207, n. 4). Demoule, for example, effectively argues that the Aegean Basin is a unifying feature for the lands around it and that the evolution of a common culture zone is the logical outcome of this type of seaborne interaction. The results are seen in the strong degree of cultural unity at sites scattered across the region. This widespread cultural unity makes it more certain that the Aegean Basin, the Marmara Sea, and the Black Sea were not the cultural barriers scholars once thought, certainly lesser obstacles than the Taurus mountains which stood as a barrier between Central Anatolia and the Mesopotamian complex for millennia (·zdogan, p. 180). The increasing evidence of sea contacts during this period makes it all the more reasonable, in fact, that the sea should be viewed, not as a barrier to interaction, but as a means by which an intensification of interaction was able to take place. Agreement regarding the details of this cultural zone is not, however, universal, as Nikolov's article (pp. 167-171) shows. Nikolov posits a "kontaktzone" built during the first stage of relations (ca. 5,500-5,000 bce.) not on the basis of interaction among its constituent parts, but on cultural influences that originated outside of the region (p. 169). Unlike earlier diffusionist views (Todorova 1978) which understood a unidirectional proliferation of contacts and interaction originating in the Balkans, Nikolov (along with Lichardus, p. 93) sees a movement in the opposite direction from Northwest Anatolia into the Balkans. This influence begins during the Karanova II period and reaches its fullest extent with the Karanova IV. Suggestions of this sort, of course, fly in the face of the idea of
internal development proposed by ·zdogan. Bringing the idea of diffusion once again into the equation, they compel scholars to see the inadequacies of the traditional posing of the issue, as in Hauptmann's (p. x): ex "Balcania" lux or ex Anatolia lux? There is, perhaps, more potential in researching the development of "a light from within."
A primary problem hindering the investigation of the Balkano-Anatolian relationship is that of chronology. While the relative sequences in both areas have been fairly well established, absolute chronology is still at issue, and the correlation of the two systems continues to be one of the biggest challenges in Anatolian archaeology (Renfrew 1973; Easton 1976: 146; Yakar 1979:51-53). Peter Kuniholm's Aegean and Near East Dendrochronology Project rises to the challenge of carefully chronicling the correlation of dendrochronological investigations with an ever-expanding number of secure carbon-14 dates (cf. Kuniholm 1989, 1993). While the final outcome of Kuniholm's ambitious project is still some time off, his initial efforts have often yielded spectacular results. Continued patience and persistence will be needed, however, as investigators search for the "missing links" necessary to harmonize the European and Near Eastern chronologies, especially in the problematic fourth millennium.
In lieu of secure carbon-14 dates for the region, pottery remains the primary source of evidence for the proposed "common cultural zone," and most of the pertinent comparative materials comes from excavated sites in Europe. The dearth of excavated materials from central Anatolia means that the pertinent date to connect it to such a zone is not always obvious. Several Anatolian sites are critical to the argument: the volume makes prominent mention of Gelveri. Another which was often referred to, but not formally included, is the site of AlisŸar HûyÄk in Yozgat Province of central Turkey (esp. ·zdogan and Parzinger). Needless to say, I noted these comments with great interest because of my own work at AlisŸar and in the surrounding Kanak Su basin.
Excavated in the late 1920s and early 1930s by the Oriental Institute, AlisŸar was shown to have a long prehistoric sequence, a situation which should shed light on the current topic. However, the lack of secure carbon-14 dates for AlisŸar has made this important sequence questionable, and it remains on the periphery of the discussion. The name is bandied about with little in the way of new data to add as evidence. Clearly, any resolution to the problem of cultural development in central Anatolia during the prehistoric periods will have to take into account the role of AlisŸar. This is a problem that our own excavations at AlisŸar HûyÄk, and now ad›r HûyÄk, intend to address. While a full analysis of the role these two sites played in prehistory is still forthcoming, it would not seem inappropriate to share a few thoughts which bear directly on what is being discussed so articulately by those who contributed to this volume.
As a starting point we can look at the black-polished pottery tradition so abundantly documented at AlisŸar. This pottery plays a pivotal role throughout this cultural zone as an indicator of the late Chalcolithic in Anatolia or the Late Neolithic in the Balkans (see JovanoviÇc, p. 69; Makkay p. 119; ·zdogan, pp. 179-181). One of the most striking elements of this style of pottery is the punctuated-incised style of decoration described by von der Osten (1937:57-60, figs. 65-68) and common to other contemporary sites within this zone. Similar black-polished pottery, including fine black-ware vessels, punctuated-incised sherds, bowls with red-polished interiors, and one example with white-painted decoration on the interior surface, was found at ad›r HûyÄk in 1994. Although our analysis of these new materials is in a preliminary stage, the black-polished pottery of ad›r appears to be very similar to the DÄndartepe-summit materials described elsewhere by Thissen (1993:213-215).
Related to the black-polished pottery tradition is the presence of graphite-slipped pottery at both AlisŸar and ad›r HûyÄk. At AlisŸar, this ware was found in Level 16-12 (von der Osten 1937:57, Fig. 63, nos. 3-4). Additional pieces now reside in both the Oriental Institute collection and the Ankara Museum of Anatolian Civilizations (Thissen 1993:218, n. 27). Graphite-slipped pottery found in sounding 770.900 during the 1994 season at ad›r HûyÄk is identical to that found at AlisŸar. The best external connections for central Anatolian graphite-slipped wares are with the Karanova VI VinÙa D cultures, as indicated in this volume by Demoule (pp. 9-10, map 6), Tasic (pp. 286-87, 291), and Thissen (1993:218-219). This Balkan connection provides a date somewhere between 3000 and 3500 bce. for the pottery from both AlisŸar and ad›r (Thissen 1993:218-219).
Perhaps the most striking evidence used to argue a common cultural zone in Anatolia and the Balkans is the curvilinear-decorated pottery of Gelveri which is cited in this volume by both Esin (pp. 47-56) and Makkay (1993, esp. fig. 3, p. 128). Curvilinear-decorated pottery of the same type was also found at AlisŸar and is probably earlier than the graphite-slipped pottery, though no levels are noted for the AlisŸar exemplars. This swirling decoration (the so-called fruchenstich technique; Makkay, p. 121) is also cited in the Japanese Kamankale I volume (written in Japanese, pp. 201-202, fig. 12, nos. 1-24). At AlisŸar, in fact, there appear to be examples of curvilinear decoration on both punctuated-incised (Gorny 1995) and painted sherds (von der Osten 1937:57, Fig. 64, no. 3; Pl. II, no. 3; cf. Omura, Kaman Kale HûyÄk I , p.197, fig. 2). There are seven pieces of the ware in the Oriental Institute collection, the nicest of which is a small black-polished bottle with a swirling spiraloid design (d 2370).1 The painted style is paralleled by examples from Yeniyapan (Omura, Kamankale I, p. 210, nos. 1-5). Although there is no provenance for this material at AlisŸar, it must fall within the range of the pottery from Gelveri (·zdogan 1994) and Yeniyapan which dates to the Karanova V and VinÙa C phases (Makkay, p. 121) or somewhere between 4000 and 3500 bce (Thissen 1993: 222). Other pieces may also be significant as one sherd is reminiscent of Szakalhat pottery (von der Osten 1937:60, Fig. 67, no. 3), a site from the Late Neolithic BÄkk (Tisza-Kûrûs) culture of the Hungarian plain (cf. von der Osten 1937, Fig, 67, no. 3) and another has affinities with the "corded ware" from the same area (von der Osten 1937:58, Fig. 65, no. 19).
As noted above, a primary goal of Anatolia and the Balkans was to familiarize scholars of the west with the nearly unknown work of their colleagues in the east. In this respect, the volume has provided a great service that more than fulfills the editor's stated goals. This unprecedented collaborative effort brings together an intriguing group of scholars who, though separated for years by political barriers, nevertheless, address a common interest. The chance to debate common concerns has by no means produced a "popular" book, and some difficulties will exist for the general reader. In spite of this, Anatolia and the Balkans is a welcomed addition to the literature representing the archaeology of both regions. Overcoming the "scholarly" nature of the book is well worth the effort of those whose interests touch on this part of the ancient world. The most significant contribution of Anatolia and the Balkans is that it updates the best previous overview, The Cambridge Ancient History (1982), and adds significant new information about important developments, not the least of which are the Gelveri finds.
In the final analysis, the question of cultural exchange in this Balkano-Anatolian zone has yet to be definitively answered, and a variety of issues remain to be addressed. Among these are the precise role of the Marmara area in the transference of cultural influences and the extent to which central Anatolia was drawn into the activities of this network of cultural exchange. This volume represents a significant contribution to these investigations, but as Hauptmann indicates (p. x), Anatolia and the Balkans is only a preliminary step in the direction of an answer. Continued excavation at sites like Ilipinar, Gelveri, AlisŸar HûyÄk, and ad›r HûyÄk, as well as the development of a complete chronological scheme based on secure carbon-14 dates from central Anatolian sites will be required to produce an answer to the questions posed by those who contributed to this valuable collection of articles.
1 The piece noted is marked d 2730 but the 1931 records show 2730 as being a small pottery cake from S 27 on the terrace and not the incised pottery sherd that almost certainly had to come from the deep sounding. As it stands, there are no depths or levels listed for any of the curvilinear pieces which may partly explain why the sherd(s) were never published. Apparently the misplaced pieces were lost and somehow fell through the cracks.
Bibliography
Kuniholm, P.
1993 A Date-List for Bronze Age and Iron Age Monuments based on Combined Dendrochronological and Radiocarbon Evidence. Pp. 371-373 in Aspects of Art and Iconography: Anatolia and its Neighbors: Studies in Honor of Nimet ·zgÄÙ. Ankara.
1989 A 677 Year Tree-Ring Chronology for the Middle Bronze Age. Pp. 279-293 in Anatolia and the Ancient Near East: Studies in Honor of Tahsin ·zgÄÙ, Ankara.
Omura, S. et al.
1992 Kamankale I . Tokyo.
Osten, von der, H. H. 1937 The AlisŸar HÄyÄk: Seasons of 1930-32. Oriental Institute Publications 28, part 1. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Özdogan , M.
1991 An Interim Report on the Excavations at Yar›mburgaz and Toptepe in Eastern Thrace. Anatolica 17:59-120.
1994 Marmara Bolgesi-Balkanlar-Orta Anadolue Arasinda Kronoloji Sorunun yeni Bir Yaklasim. Pp. 69-79 in XL Turk TarihKurumu Kongresi I.
n.d. Pre-Bronze Age Sequence of Central Anatolia: An Alternative Approach. Beran Festschrift. In Press.
Renfrew, C.
1973 Before Civilization. New York: Alfred Knopf.
Thissen, L.
1993 New Insights in Balkan-Anatolian Connections in the Late Chalcolithic: Old Evidence from the Turkish Black Sea Littoral. Anatolian Studies 43:207-237.
Todorova, H.
1978 The Eneolithic in Bulgaria. BAR International Series 48. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports.
Yakar, J.
1985 The Later Prehistory of Anatolia: The Late Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age. BAR International Series 268. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports.
This is the first of a two volume history of Anatolia in the Hellenistic and Roman eras, covering the period from the arrival of the Celts in Anatolia in the early third century bce through the early Byzantine era. Mitchell chose this era partly because of the immense amount of evidence available. The evidence is indeed copious: dozens of Greek, Bithynian, Galatian, Lycaonian, and Cilician cities, thousands of inscriptions, coin hoards, and numerous literary sources. The great strength of this work is Mitchell's familiarity with and use of this rich body of evidence. He is especially strong in his command of the inscriptions. If Mitchell's very specific use of epigraphic examples to provide a wealth of detail is occasionally overwhelming, his expertise with this very diverse corpus is very impressive indeed. Part I focuses on central Anatolia (Galatia) and the impact of one of the last great migrations of antiquity into Anatolia, that of the Celts. Mitchell discusses both traditional Celtic society, politics, and religion and the relations between the newly arrived Celts and the other inhabitants of Anatolia. This includes a very thorough picture of Hellenistic Anatolia. Before the campaigns of Alexander, Anatolia was a land of many distinct language and culture groups occupying different areas of the peninsula. Much of that diversity was preserved into the Roman era and can be seen in the early Roman division of provinces and client kingdoms. Mitchell handles these diverse areas and groups extremely well, elucidating the differences and continuities among the different regions of Anatolia admirably. Part II focuses on Roman acquisition of Anatolia and the effects this had on local economies, religion, urban centers, and politics.
The maps which illustrate urban development, patterns of imperial administration, and the development of the economy are an index of the synthetic nature of this work; Mitchell has done an excellent job of integrating evidence from written sources with information "on the ground," in the archaeology of sites and roads. He uses specific examples from the archaeology of the area, especially architecture, quite well, especially for his arguments about urban development and the rise of the emperor cult. Complementing the maps are a number of illustrations; especially interesting are those of coins, which illustrate the tremendous variation in local politics, culture, and autonomy among the cities of Roman Anatolia. Chapter ten, which focuses on farming and food production, might have benefitted from reference to H. Hoffner, Alimenta Hethaeorum: Food Production in Hittite Asia Minor (New Haven: American Oriental Society, 1974), which would provide background to this discussion. Chapter thirteen, focusing on the chaos period of the third century ce, gives excellent specifics about the local effects of Rome's dynastic troubles during this time. Mitchell critiques the "standard" view of late Roman economics quite cogently, and uses inscriptional evidence to argue that much of rural Anatolia did not suffer extensively from the disorders and invasions of the third century.
There is no bibliography for the work, despite copious use of secondary studies. The list of abbreviations provides a guide to works used, but there is no indication that it is exhaustive. The location of the footnotes at the bottom of the page is a tremendous boon and deserves special commendation. There is no conclusion to the book, nothing synthesizing the arguments presented throughout. This is presumably postponed to volume II, emphasizing the need to use the two volumes together. Most of the indices are in volume II.
This is a very impressive work of scholarship which defines a specific area and era of study and attempts to discuss all aspects of that area's history. It succeeds admirably, because of the abundance of evidence and Mitchell's expertise in it. It is written for a reader experienced in the history of Anatolia and Rome and may prove heavy going for the general reader both because of its wealth of detail and the assumptions the author makes about the reader's knowledge. This is most obvious in the references to Greek and Latin inscriptions on monuments and coins; Mitchell often presents the text of an inscription, but almost never translates. Despite that, this will certainly become a standard work for the history of Hellenistic and Roman Anatolia.
Gregory McMahon
University of New Hampshire
This edition is a revised and enlarged version of Casson's 1974 hardcover work of the same title, originally published by George Allen & Unwin Ltd of London. The text is divided into three parts having a total of nineteen chapters,twenty illustrations, and four maps. The bibliography is interspersed in a sensible manner within the original Notes and in the Addenda to the Notes. This last feature distinguishes the present work from its predecessor. Part One covers the Near East and Greece from the Bronze Age onward: the Old Kingdom to Greco-Roman times for Egypt, ca. 3000 to ca. 500 bce for the rest of the Near East, and ca. 500-300 bce for Classical Greece. Part Two covers travel in Roman times and Part Three tourism in Roman times.
Regrettably, the quality of the illustrations has not been improved and is generally poor. In addition, Maps 1 and 4 show many modern country boundaries, while none appear on Maps 2 and 3. The text, however, is thoroughly researched and attempts a balance in the treatment of subject areas. Even though most of the information does not directly concern the Near East: Chapters 1-3 in Part One offer insights into modes of travel, and Chapters 16 and 17 in Part Three pertain to one of the ultimate tourist venues of antiquity and modern times, Egypt. Chapter 19 is an invaluable section on travel in the Holy Land. Here Casson reminds us that pilgrims were travellers with a purpose, and their needs and requirements were to be fulfilled to some degree en route and on site. His treatment of the sources for travel often permits the reader to reflect upon the ancient sources themselves.
There is a dearth of references to biblical and related literature, in contrast to the abundance of Classical sources. The bibliography needs to be updated to include both volumes of Daniel Potts' The Arabian Gulf in Antiquity (1990), currently the best source for information on maritime trade along the Arabo-Persian Gulf from the third millennium bce up to the rise of Islam. Casson's assertions regarding camel domestication and caravan trade also need revision. On pages 54-56, he suggests that the dromedary camel did not figure prominently in overland trade and travel prior to an alleged introduction of it by the Persians for this purpose when it came on the heels of their renewed road-building program throughout their empire. Recent studies by faunal archaeologists and other discoveries in the Arabian Peninsula clarify these issues. The dromedary camel appeared around 7000 bce rather than 3000 bce. Camels as beasts of burden can plausibly be placed far earlier than the Persian Empire. Yet, while we are compelled to reconsider Casson's discussion regarding the mode of overland trade, we need not substantially revise it. Once again the grand master of ancient boats
and maritime commerce has excelled in providing an easily digestible and lively account of all aspects of travel in antiquity. The food for thought generated in his added discuss