This edited volume of essays by well-established specialists developed from a seminar hosted by the Research Centre for Greek and Latin Literature of the Academy of Athens in 2018–19. In the introduction the editor describes the approaches as falling into two general and not necessarily mutually exclusive categories: historical / cultural (K. Vlassopoulos, R. Seaford, D. Konstan, P. Vasunia) and literary (M. Lefkowitz, R. Thomas, M. Paschalis). This division, however, occludes a unity across the volume as a whole: most contributors acknowledge the potency of the Greek/Barbarian binary, as well its challengers’ arguments, and aim to bring out the complexity behind this formidable model.
A primary issue of the binary is that it can create monolithic polarity, which may erase both variations in the binary across time and historical circumstance and differences between non-Greek societies and among the Greeks themselves. Each chapter tackles these erasures and posits modes of thought that ask us to reconsider the nature of the division the binary creates. One method offers reconsideration across time and according to historical circumstance (Thomas, Paschalis), another reconsiders the interactions of Greeks with others in the light of Classics as a field, in terms of both the broader legacy of European colonialism (Vasunia) and established ideas that demand reconsideration (Konstan, Lefkowitz). Seaford's chapter, which focuses on outsiders within the Greek world, reminds us that ‘the Greeks’ are not a monolith, and that Greeks can be outsiders to other Greeks.
Thus, these chapters ask us to consider the binary as not only a divide that provokes a lack of understanding and hostility, but also a locus of exchange, where a mutual flow of influence, information and understanding occurs. Considered in this way, the heart of the volume may lie in Konstan's chapter, where he shows how the meaning of xenos as ‘stranger’ is fundamental to the impact of its more specialised definition as ‘guest-friend’. Konstan introduces a paradox: to be guest-friends, the participants must be, in some way, strangers to each other, who, despite that, still form mutually beneficial bonds.
In the first chapter, ‘Intercultural Relations and the Barbarian Repertoire in Greek Culture’, Vlassopoulos posits that we should consider what the concept of a ‘barbarian repertoire’ tells us about a culture capable of producing such a complex model. ‘Barbarian repertoire’ means that Greeks construct an Other not as a monolith but as a vast array, where, depending on circumstances, different ‘barbarian’ types prove useful to think with. Vlassopoulos seeks to explain what features of Greek society and culture created a space for this repertoire: the Greeks are both self-referential (i.e. they define themselves internally) and yet willing to adapt and give credit to foreign innovation. He also suggests that the openness of Greek thought to outside ideas, particularly in a religious context, primes them to create a diverse repertoire of the Other. Yet, while Vlassopoulos suggests that this broad repertoire is a peculiar feature of the Greeks, we should be wary of claiming a peculiarity for one culture without an in-depth comparative study of more cultures than Vlassopoulos provides. What this chapter shows is a specific set of circumstances perhaps unique to the Greeks that explains the origins of their diverse repertoire.
Konstan, in ‘Making Friends with Foreigners: Xenoi in the Homeric Epics’, challenges the tendency to list the primary definition of xenos in the Homeric poems as ‘guest-friend’ and instead argues that the primary definition should be ‘stranger’ or ‘foreigner’. Through an extensive analysis of Homeric usage, he shows that for xenos to mean ‘guest-friend’, it commonly needs to be modified by either philos or a possessive adjective. For Konstan, the stranger-friend relationship is an oxymoron, and, without the primary connotation of otherness, the relationship loses its force. Xenos is not essentially hereditary, but must be enacted by later generations, keeping the relationship active rather than passive. Here, Konstan reinforces one of the volume's themes that the binary is an ever-changing and permeable locus of exchange. He ends by suggesting that the etymological root for xenos is ex, rather than a word in the hospitality constellation.
Konstan's etymology offers good groundwork for the chapter by Seaford (‘The xenos as a Focus for Civic Unity in History, Ritual, and Literature’), which examines how the foreigner, or any person coming from the outside, can foster civic unity. Seaford analyses the earliest examples of living humans receiving cult honours, such as Lysander, Dion and Demetrios Poliorketes. They all have the status of outsider, either because they are not from the city or were exiled. Another unifying element is the use of religious ritual and connections with the figures of Dionysus and Demeter, which, Seaford argues, gives the outsider transcendent power to unite the polis. He also notes the potential danger associated with the arrival of the outsider. Seaford's argument depends on a conception of multiple types of Other, including Others from within the larger Greek cultural diaspora.
In a chapter including vivid colour images, ‘A God in Translation? Dionysus from Lucian to Gandhara’, Vasunia analyses representations of Dionysus in India, first in Lucian and then in material evidence from the regions of Bactria and Gandhara. Using Lucian's identity, interests and objects of satire to reconsider what it means for Dionysus to conquer the east, Vasunia presents multifaceted interpretative possibilities that he connects to the similarly complex interpretative array of Gandharan artistic representations of the Dionysiac. Focusing on Gandharan images in which the Dionysiac may be interacting with local concerns and local reactions to new religions and philosophies from its east, he traces colonialism's impact on the analysis and value given to these images because of their apparent reception of Hellenic motifs. Vasunia forcefully reminds us that these artefacts should be evaluated on their own terms rather than made to serve narratives about the spread of Hellenism or superficial models of religious translation.
Lefkowitz, in ‘Examination of the Phrygian Slave in Euripides’ Orestes’, similarly reminds us to examine first and foremost a representation's context in the text and the author's overall oeuvre by revisiting the messenger speech given by a Phrygian slave towards the end of Euripides’ Orestes. First, she tackles the history of Arrowsmith's popular version, which translates the Phrygian's Greek into ‘pidgin’ English and argues that it has contributed to a persistent idea that Euripides has given the Phrygian bad Greek. Her analysis shows that the Phrygian's speech is unusual, especially for a messenger speech, but is good Greek and follows a clear internal logic. While, in general, the character has been understood as a stand-in for any cowardly and effeminate barbarian, Lefkowitz suggests, instead, that Euripides shows the Phrygian's bravery and essential humanity.
In ‘Greek Historians, Persika and the Persian Empire (late 5th.c. – 4th.c.)’, Thomas explores the applicability of the Greek/Barbarian binary and Edward Saïd's model of Orientalism for understanding the Persika produced in the late fifth and fourth centuries bce. Like Vlassopoulos, Thomas brings out the myriad ways in which Greek intellectuals used the Other to think through big ideas. Thomas interrogates the historical situation of these Persika writers, where the Persian Empire is the dominant power, and rightly posits that the Greeks needed information about the Persian Empire. Authors of Persika were filling that need. Ctesias, Deinon and others are writing from within the empire and providing both accurate and skewed information. They contribute to the Orientalising model but perhaps should not be understood as Orientalist themselves. While Thomas does not classify Herodotus among this category of writers, she notes how he too provides needful information about the Persian Empire.
Paschalis, in ‘The Abduction of Europa from Moschus to Nonnus’, examines representations of Europa's abduction. First, Paschalis shows how, while Herodotus’ stories of mutual abductions create a barrier between East and West, it is not necessarily so in Moschus’ poem. The analysis then turns to Atossa's dream in Aeschylus’ Persians, which clearly influences Europa's dream in Moschus. Europa, though drawn to stay by a mother figure representing Asia, is slowly won over by the insistent woman representing Europe; thus, in the dream, a barrier is surmounted through Europa's partial consent and her celebratory crossing from Phoenicia to Crete. Paschalis then traces Europa's abduction across later texts and looks specifically at their tone and attitude towards the divide between East and West before ending with Nonnus’ Dionysiaca, where Europa's travels on the back of the bull offer a surprising spectacle. Paschalis notes that Nonnus appears to shift the meaning of xeinos to ‘miraculous’ or even ‘bizarre’. This point supports Konstan's argument that xeinos, at its root, means something foreign or from the outside: in Nonnus’ case, it means outside of expectations or experience. Paschalis shows how an event that was, in Herodotus, symbolic of a divide between East and West becomes a signifier of the divide's disappearance in the Hellenistic and Roman eras.
Across the volume, each chapter tackles, implicitly or explicitly, the thought model of the Greek/Barbarian binary and explores both its impact and the impact of other potentially totalising methods of approaching the foreign. For Seaford, it is the power of the Other from within the Greek diaspora; for Thomas, it is both the potential inapplicability of an Orientalist model of understanding the Persika and the complexity of using the binary to understand texts written by peoples living in the Persian Empire's shadow. In his analysis of Gandharan art, Vasunia challenges a model Vlassopoulos also criticises – assuming a simple flow of information, materials and ideas – and shows how colonialism has fostered this approach. For Vasunia, the Greek/Barbarian polarity occludes how both individuals writing in Greek and artists in Gandhara and Bactria are actively engaging with materials in a complex, multi-directional flow of ideas. Paschalis demonstrates how the binary disappears over time, becoming a thing to be played with rather than a fundamental truth operating in the texts. Konstan and Lefkowitz both offer a philologically oriented model for tackling old, weighty ideas. Through textual analysis and a reconsideration of arguments and translations so impactful that we do not necessarily think about them any more, they offer new understandings of foreigners and the ‘foreign’. It is vital for literary approaches moving forward, especially those motivated to examine the impact of the history of Classics, to revisit not just our texts but also our established translations, commentaries and dictionaries for potentially problematic assumptions bred in the field's very bones.
These contributions lead readers to the question of the Greek/Barbarian binary's usefulness. While it has proven good to think with, these chapters show how it is a good thing to think against, which suggests that the binary remains useful as one mode of thought among others. This volume makes clear the need for a plurality of approaches that reflect the pluralism of the ancient Mediterranean and the peoples living there.
The volume succeeds in its stated goal of bringing together a variety of approaches by well-regarded specialists, yet it could benefit from greater internal unifying work to guide readers. This is most apparent where claims in one chapter directly contradict claims in another without acknowledgement of where arguments might have been deepened if put into active conversation. Since these chapters may not be easily accessible individually, the volume as a whole should demonstrate more the added value of cohesion beyond productive juxtaposition.
