Nach dem Monumentum Ancyranum, Apolloniense und Antiochenum. Die philosophischen, biographischen und poetischen Werke des Kaisers Augustus sind verloren. Erhalten ist nur sein Rechenschaftsbericht, der einst auf Bronzetafeln vor seinem Mausoleum in Rom aufgestellt war. Eine Abschrift des Originals, von dem keinerlei Reste überliefert sind, wurde in Ancyra gefunden, weshalb die Inschrift als "Monumentum Ancyranum" bezeichnet wird. Eine weitere lateinische Kopie - das Monumentum Antiochenum - und eine griechische Übersetzung - das Monumentum Apolloniense - sind in Bruchstücken erhalten. Beide Überlieferungen, die (...) lateinische und die griechische, sind hier dem deutschen Text gegenübergestellt. Eine große Anzahl antiker Zeugnisse - Zitate aus der Literatur, Inschriften, Münzlegenden -, die ebenfalls aufgenommen wurden, geben die Möglichkeit des unmittelbaren Vergleichs mit der Parallelüberlieferung. Mit Einführung, Erläuterungen, Literaturhinweisen und Register. (shrink)

There is no probative evidence whatever for limiting Augustus’ emphasis on auctoritas at the end of the Res Gestae to his inconsequential function as princeps senatus. Rooted in his res gestae, auctoritas comprises a wider spectrum of performative achievements and makes the case for his future deification.

Augustus' account of the events of 28 and 27 b.c. is maddeningly vague. In part the problem is simply that his individual phrases are ambiguous, but a more fundamental difficulty is the very nature of the Res Gestae itself. The idea of publishing such a self-satisfied account of one's own doings is so alien to our modern sensibilities that we tend to read the Res Gestae as though Augustus were capable of saying almost anything. We have concluded too (...) easily, therefore, that at R.G. 34.1 Augustus is telling an outrageous lie, or at least an outrageous half-truth. After saying that he ended the civil wars, and acquired supreme power, Augustus claims to have handed over the state to the senate and the people of Rome. On the traditional reading this last claim is seriously misleading; Augustus may have handed over the state, but he fails to mention that the senate handed it back. (shrink)

Der Aufsatz enthält einen Unterrichtsentwurf zur Kontrastierung des Selbstbildes des Kaisers Augustus, wie er es in den Res gestae entwirft, mit den Urteilen moderner Historiker über ihn.

This paper uses Foucault’s concepts “discipline” and “biopower” to expose the complexity of power relations in Augustan Rome and its historiography. Focusing on Augustus’ Res Gestae and Tacitus’ Annales, I argue that the absolute sovereignty of the emperor did not preclude the advancement of techniques to classify, hierarchize and normalize individuals, nor did Imperial sovereignty work against the development of a discourse about the enhancement and protection of the population. By demonstrating the conceptual and historical relevancy of Foucault’s modern (...) power triad of “sovereignty-discipline-government” to first century CE Rome, the paper suggests that biopolitical societies have a far more extensive history than the one said to have started around the turn of the eighteenth century. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:American Journal of Philology 121.4 (2000) 655-658 [Access article in PDF] RONALD MELLOR. The Roman Historians. London and New York: Routledge, 1999. x + 212 pp. Paper, $21.99. This is a textbook, the purpose of which is to provide "an introduction to the masterpieces of Roman historical and biographical writing" (ix). Although the question of the usefulness of these writings to the modern historian is not overlooked, the principal (...) concern is "to take Roman historical writing on its own terms" (196). Very little background is assumed, and no Latin (by "Roman" the title refers to works composed in Latin, regardless of subject matter: hence Nepos' Pelopidas is in, but Polybius, Diodorus, and Dio are out, except [End Page 655] as background or comparanda). The author is a distinguished Tacitean scholar, and his style is at once clear and attractive. His survey begins with the origins of Roman historiography, with special attention given to what can be known of the early annalists, to the contribution of the elder Cato, and especially to Cicero's verdict on the efforts of them all. Fine chapters on Sallust and Livy follow, and, naturally in view of the author's predilections, a long and adoring chapter on Tacitus. Ammianus Marcellinus also gets his due, in a chapter that is actually longer than Sallust's. A single chapter is devoted to Roman biography (Nepos, Tacitus once more, Suetonius and the Historia Augusta), another to autobiography (Caesar, Augustus' Res Gestae). An appraisal of the Roman achievement, and its influence, concludes the book. The strengths of Mellor's treatment of every author and every subject are many. He is keenly attentive to ancient expectations and the particular context of the central authors whose works he examines; he is especially good at fitting the purposes of a historian's writings to the historian's actual circumstances. He constantly reminds the reader of the differences between Roman and modern conceptions of historical writing. He appreciates the importance of style in appraising and understanding ancient historiography. And he makes frequent acute observations that will save instructors who use this book a good deal of time and explanation, as when he remarks of Tacitean characterization that, "since he could not easily explain ambiguities, they are expressed as contradictions" (104). In sum, then, the volume is intelligent, congenial, and will be very serviceable in courses dealing with Roman history or with historiography.It is inevitable, when anyone reviews a work of such scope, that there will be quibbles. Let me record a few of mine. Students are likely to be misled by the use of "plebeian" on p. 20. To say that, in 52 B.C., Clodius Pulcher was "Caesar's man," in contrast to Milo who by implication was Pompey's (31), is to get it wrong (cf. W. Jeffrey Tatum, The Patrician Tribune [Chapel Hill 1999] 214-15, 234-35). Since Caesar reached the senior magistracies at the earliest possible age, it is not clear to me that "his early career progressed slowly" (171). The view of Roman marriage represented on p. 69 is somewhat old-fashioned, and, along those lines, it is anachronistic to speak of "the bigamous marriage celebration of the empress Messalina" (90: Tacitus' Narcissus is accurate when at Ann. 11.30 he asks Claudius: an discidium... tuum nosti?). One does not often hear, these days, of the "clinical objectivity of Thucydides" (44). In discussing Sallust's attraction to Thucydides (43-45), it might have been helpful to discuss the (admittedly not uncomplicated) issue of Atticism in late-first-century Rome. I am less convinced than Mellor is that the speech of Sallust's Caesar constitutes the historian's "plea for common sense" (38) in the midst of the triumviral proscriptions; after all, Sallust wrote Cato's speech as well. It can hardly be true, if only in view of Pliny's keen interest in his friend's literary productivity, that Suetonius' Lives "is a book written by and for the equestrian" (152), nor do I think the description of the imperial equestrian order that is given on [End Page 656] that page... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Livy’s Written RomeWilliam SeaveyMary Jaeger. Livy’s Written Rome. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997. xii 1 205 pp. Cloth, $39.50.How Livy went about writing his immense history has been a topic of keen interest, and recent work such as Jaeger’s directs our thinking in new and interesting ways. Livian historiography has traditionally focused on Quellenforschung and more recently on the rhetorical influences that often remain unrecognized by (...) modern readers. A still newer kind of historiography, branching from rhetorical studies, considers the influence of space on a writer’s text, and it is attracted to both topographical and material issues. Indicative of such works in the last decade are Paul Zanker, The Power of Images in the Age of Augustus (Ann Arbor 1988); Eleanor Winsor Leach, The Rhetoric of Space (Princeton 1988); C. Nicolet, Space, Geography, and Politics in the Early Roman Empire (Ann Arbor 1991); and Ann Vasaly, Representations: Images of the World in Ciceronian Oratory (Berkeley and Los Angeles 1993). Jaeger follows many historiographers in beginning with Livy’s preface, and then considering disparate episodes throughout Ab Urbe Condita before returning to the preface to reevaluate Livy’s method. By this approach, narrative is not just a chronological reflection of political and religious events; rather, spatial reminders (monumenta) may influence the organization of written narrative. Jaeger narrows her study to focus on “reminders that for various reasons fail to point unambiguously back to a particular person or event” (10). It is when Livy has restored in his text a [End Page 318] lost monumentum that his method is most readily observed: “when monuments fail and the text restores them, reminders of stories give way to stories about reminders” (11). This method of historiography, as Jaeger wields it, gives us a fresh look at an old text. It does not work equally well in all environments—witness the problems Sparta would offer such an approach, as both Jaeger (2) and, long ago, Thucydides realized. Yet more difficult would be monumental—in all senses of the word—societies such as those of ancient Egypt and Central America.Jaeger’s discussion of method and historiography (the Introduction and chapter 1) is excellent. Her survey of Livian historiographical research is thorough and attested by a wealth of judicious footnotes which review the relevant scholarship. The discussion of monumenta is particularly illuminating. Jaeger explains how the “monumentum stands between the res gestae and their literary celebration, so that two layers, the monumental and the literary, come between event and reader” (16). That all share certain qualities make them suitable for historical evaluation: “In sum, we can assume of all monumenta some common characteristics: an absent person or thing commemorated; a present audience reminded; a memory or an exhortation that is socially relevant; and a meaning determined jointly by the reminder, its physical context, and the circumstances of each viewer” (18). Jaeger’s belief that Daedalus’ labyrinth in the Aeneid (Veneris monumentum nefandae, 6.24–27) is the only exception to her standard that monumenta are “exposed to the public view” (17) is a bit strained, even without considering that Vergil’s ecphrasis describing the doors of Apollo’s temple is not really Roman at all. Moreover, Columella recorded that Hyginus collected precisely that sort of evidence: Hyginus veterum auctorum placita secretis dispersa monimentis industrie collegit (De Re Rustica 9.2.1). And what of all the Roman religious elements that are also secret (i.e., not exposed to public view)? It would be difficult to believe that there were no hidden monumenta among all the Roman sacra. Nevertheless, Jaeger’s approach to monumenta reinforces the importance of visualizing narrative as written by classical historians, which results in an illuminating and novel way of examining Livy’s historical text.After discussing the notion of monumenta in chapter 1 Jaeger proceeds to consider four separate episodes from Ab Urbe Condita, noting how Livy “maps the plot of a story onto the Roman landscape, then commemorates the particular enactment of the plot in a monument” (12). Chapter 2 considers the abduction of the Sabine women in AUC book 1, demonstrating a rhythmic flow of action between the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Political Theory in the Senatus Consultum PisonianumD. S. PotterThe object of this essay is to illustrate the interaction between specific events and broader imperial ideology in the Senatus Consultum Pisonianum (SCP), a decree of the Senate issued on 10 December A.D. 20 concerning the disposition of the case against the elder Piso and his associates. A subsidiary point is to place the use of such a decree within the (...) discourse of government in the Greco–Roman world.Public decrees emerged as an important venue for the exposition of state ideology centuries before Tiberius asked the Senate to record its views on Piso's fate. Indeed, we can detect the beginning of this development in Greece before the end of the Peloponnesian War and trace what appears to be some cross–fertilization between the style of civic decrees from the Greek cities of the eastern Mediterranean and the style of senatus consulta in the second and first centuries B.C. The process may be seen as an extension of the "motivation clauses" in honorific decrees passed for individuals to many other kinds of document.1 At the same time, the late fifth or early fourth century, we can see that public decrees offered a form for the continuation of a dialogue between states: thus the decree of Erythrae in which the Athenians are thanked for passing a decree in which they state that they will not turn the Erythraeans over to the "barbarians" or the elaborate denunciation of Spartan behaviors that is embedded within the charter of the Second Athenian Confederacy.2 By the second half of the fourth century, at least in Athens, and we know that the practice had extended to its former dominion on Samos by the time of Alexander, a "motivation clause" could run to many lines in explaining the actions of the [End Page 65] state.3 Our best evidence for this practice comes from honorific decrees for individuals, but the language of Diodorus suggests very strongly that some sort of historical preface was added to the decree that was passed declaring war on Macedon in 323, very similar to the one that would later figure in the decree of Chremonides declaring war in 268.4 The evidence for the use of extended prefaces, both for individuals and in other contexts, increases in the course of the third century, as civic decrees take on a role in the structuring of a community's memory that was transformed from a reflection to a mechanism of construction.5Our attention to such statements on stone is perhaps conditioned by our ability to recover them in a way that we cannot recover the words of representatives speaking extemporaneously in a public assembly, or the opinions of representatives meeting in closed conference, thus raising the question of just how important such documents really were as vehicles for communication. There is a substantial body of scholarly opinion suggesting that the inscribing of decrees was primarily a symbolic activity since these decrees were often written in hands that were difficult to read and, for that matter, a majority of the inhabitants of the Mediterranean world lacked the capacity to read.6 While no one would deny that one purpose of public inscription was symbolic—indeed the sloppiness that mars both copies A and B of the senatus consultum concerning the disposition of the Piso affair in A.D. 20 may be taken as a sign of this—likewise it needs to be stressed that such texts [End Page 66] were also regarded as permanent records to be read by those classes whose views were regarded as important by ancient governments, and scripts difficult to the eyes of one generation might be less so to those of another.7 The average late twentieth–century classicist may find it easier to decipher the Res Gestae of Augustus on the walls of the temple of Roma in Ancyra than to read the volumes of Leopold Ranke printed in fraktur: the ability to read a script is largely a matter of training and habit. It is clear that the mid–fourth–century Athenian or the second– century Bithynian might care a great deal... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Punishing PisoJohn BodelWhen cn. piso cheated justice by taking his life before the formal condemnation that awaited him, the Senate imposed six posthumous penalties, which are duly recorded in the senatus consultum of 10 December A.D. 20. 11. Piso was not to be publicly mourned by the women of his family (SCPP 73–75).2. All statues and portraits of Piso anywhere were to be taken down (75–76).3. Members of the (...) Calpurnian family by blood or through marriage were urged to exclude the portrait mask of Piso from the parade of imagines at family funerals (76–82).4. Piso’s name was to be erased from a statue of Germanicus near the Ara Providentiae in the Campus Martius (82–84).5. Piso’s property, with the exception of an estate in Illyricum given to him by Augustus, was declared public property and was then returned, in the name of the Senate and princeps, to his two sons and daughter, in exchange for which the elder son was enjoined to change his praenomen, Gnaeus (84–105).6. The structures built by Piso over the Porta Fontinalis to connect his private houses were to be torn down (105–8).Tacitus’ abbreviated and selective account (Ann. 3.17–18) omits all but two of these penalties—those concerning the confiscation of Piso’s [End Page 43] property and the striking of his name from public records—and reports only partial truths about these. Why Tacitus omits what he does and distorts what he reports are questions of considerable interest for understanding his historiographical aims and methods (see Woodman and Martin 1996, 114–18, 185–88). This essay has the more limited and preliminary objective of delineating the background against which they must be posed by considering the implications of the four penalties not mentioned by Tacitus (1, 3, 4, 6) for the shaping of public image in Tiberian Rome. For this purpose, two basic similarities with Tacitus’ account may be briefly noted.First, despite the professed aim of the senators condemning Piso to eradicate all memory of him and his misdeeds, the clause of their decree mandating its publication in major cities and at military headquarters throughout the empire, “so that the order of the whole affair could be handed down to the memory of future generations and they would know what the Senate had decided about... the crimes of the elder Cn. Piso,” fundamentally undermines its ostensible purpose. 2 Like Tacitus, who explicitly embraced the historian’s traditional task of branding infamy in order to deter future misconduct (Ann. 3.65.1), the senators condemning Piso meant his punishment to set an example for posterity. 3 Since the bulk of Piso’s estate was to be returned to his intended heirs, their punitive measures were directed more at his reputation than at his substance and thus belong to that category of condemnation we call damnatio memoriae. Paradoxically, however, the Senate’s desire to advertise its exemplary severity in this instance undermined its efforts to expunge the memory of the condemned, rendering the punishment symbolic and paradigmatic rather than practically effective.Second, like Tacitus, who proclaims the geographical focus of his Annales in the opening words, the Roman Senate concentrated its condemnation of Piso’s memory on the city of Rome. Although the instructions [End Page 44] for publication of the document mention only provincial cities and the army (and wherever else Tiberius wished), and although the six or seven copies of the text that survive all derive from Baetica, the penalties themselves are largely and practically centered on the capital. 4 In this Romanocentric perspective the new senatus consultum shares the orientation of the document that served as the model for all monumentalized public declarations in Tiberian Rome, the Res Gestae Divi Augusti (see Elsner 1996). Like that inscriptional monument, the decree condemning Piso—principally displayed at a chosen location in the capital (SCPP 169–70, quo loco Ti. Caes(ari) Aug(usto) videretur) and yet destined for publication (and fated for preservation) at the far ends of the empire—implicitly balances the conduct of res transmarinae (31) with monuments at the capital and thus directs... (shrink)

Constantius, as though the Temple of Janus had been closed and all enemies had been laid low, was longing to visit Rome and, following the death of Magnentius, to hold a triumph, without a victory title and after shedding Roman blood. For he did not himself defeat any belligerent nation or learn that any had been defeated through the courage of his commanders, nor did he add anything to the empire, and in dangerous circumstances he was never seen to lead (...) from the front, nor even to be among the front ranks. But he wanted to display an exaggeratedly long procession, standards stiff with gold and the beauty of his attendants, to a population who were living more peacefully, neither anticipating nor wishing to see this or anything like it. For perhaps he was unaware that some earlier emperors had been content with lictors in peacetime, but when the heat of battle could not allow inactivity, one of them had entrusted himself to a small fishing boat, blasted by raging gales, another had followed the example of the Decii and offered up his life in a vow for the state, and another had himself explored the enemy camp alongside the regular soldiers; that, in short, various of them had won renown for magnificent deeds, and so committed their glories to the distinguished memory of posterity. …When he was approaching the city, observing with a serene expression the respectful attendance of the Senate, and the venerable likenesses of the patrician families, he thought, not like Cineas, the legate of Pyrrhus, that a multitude of kings had been assembled together, but rather that this was the refuge of the whole world [cumque urbi propinquaret, senatus officia, reuerendasque patriciae stirpis effigies, ore sereno contemplans, non ut Cineas ille Pyrrhi legatus, in unum coactam multitudinem regum, sed asylum mundi totius adesse existimabat]. Next, when he turned his gaze to the general populace, he was astonished at the speed with which every type of men from everywhere had flowed into Rome. As though he were trying to terrify the Euphrates or the Rhine with the sight of arms, with the standards in front of him on each side, he sat alone in a golden chariot, glittering with the shimmer of many different precious stones, whose flashes seemed to produce a flickering light. After many others had preceded him, he was surrounded by dragons, woven from purple cloth and affixed to the golden, bejewelled tips of spears, open to the wind with their broad mouths and so hissing as though roused with anger, trailing the coils of their tails in the wind [eumque post antegressos multiplices alios, purpureis subtegminibus texti, circumdedere dracones, hastarum aureis gemmatisque summitatibus illigati, hiatu uasto perflabiles, et ideo uelut ira perciti sibilantes, caudarumque uolumina relinquentes in uentum]. Then there came a twin column of armed men, with shields and plumed helmets, shining with glittering light, clothed in gleaming cuirasses, with armoured horsemen, whom they call clibanarii, arranged among them, masked and protected by breastplates, encircled with iron bands, so that you might have thought them to be statues finished by the hand of Praxiteles, not men [sparsique catafracti equites, quos clibanarios dictitant, personati thoracum muniti tegminibus, et limbis ferreis cincti, ut Praxitelis manu polita crederes simulacra, non uiros]. Slender rings of metal plates, fitted to the curves of the body, clothed them, spread across all their limbs, so that, in whatever direction necessity moved their joints, their clothing moved likewise, since the joins had been made to fit so well.When he was hailed as Augustus with favourable cries, [Constantius] did not shudder at the din that thundered from hills and shores, but showed himself unmoved, as he appeared in his provinces. For, when passing through high gates, he stooped his short body, and, keeping his gaze straight, as though his neck were fixed, he turned his head neither right nor left, as though an image of a man, and he was never seen to nod when the wheel shook, or to spit or wipe or rub his face or nose, or to move his hand [nam et corpus perhumile curuabat portas ingrediens celsas, et uelut collo munito, rectam aciem luminum tendens, nec dextra uultum nec laeua flectebat, tamquam figmentum hominis, nec, cum rota concuteret, nutans, nec spuens, aut os aut nasum tergens uel fricans, manumue agitans uisus est umquam]. Although this behaviour was an affectation, it, and other aspects of his more private life, were however indications of extraordinary endurance, granted to him alone, as it was given to be supposed. This passage, which describes the aduentus of Constantius II into Rome in 357, is one of the best-known episodes in the Res Gestae of Ammianus Marcellinus. This historical work was completed by the retired military officer in around 390, with the surviving books covering the period from 353 to the aftermath of the Battle of Adrianople in 378. Unsurprisingly, this passage is also one of the most debated. Throughout his work, Ammianus regularly criticized Constantius as a weak, vicious ruler, influenced by women and, in particular, eunuchs, and so contrasted him with his cousin and successor Julian, the emperor who receives the most favourable treatment within this text. The degree and nature of criticism within this particular passage has, however, been the subject of a variety of wildly differing interpretations. It is clear that, at the outset, Ammianus is inveighing against the notion of holding a triumph for victory in a civil war, but there has been debate over whether Constantius was actually celebrating a triumph or merely the anniversary of his accession. Similarly, the description of the Senate as ‘the refuge of the whole world’ has been read in contrasting ways, being regarded as derogatory by Johannes Straub, as neutral, or even positive, by Pierre Dufraigne, and as respectful by R.C. Blockley. While this passage as a whole is generally read as an attack on Constantius for his pretentions to ill-deserved military glory, it also raises the question of whether Ammianus was also criticizing Constantius for the way in which he performed his aduentus, emphasizing his pompous and autocratic behaviour in order to contrast him with Julian, who preferred to behave more like a ciuilis princeps in public. Of course, such a reading almost inevitably produces a portrait of Ammianus as an impractically nostalgic figure, harking back to a style of rule which was anachronistic in the post-Diocletianic Later Roman Empire. In addition, Ammianus also presented Julian as performing an aduentus into Constantinople in 361, employing some phrases that were similar to those used to describe Constantius’ procession in 357. Furthermore, as John Matthews has illustrated, Ammianus’ presentations of the occasions when Julian eschewed late-antique imperial protocol are not without tinges of criticism, and his judgement on the propriety of different modes of imperial behaviour varied dependent on the context. (shrink)

In entitling his historical work res gestae (not historiae ), Sempronius Asellio advertises his adaptation of the Polybian model, which is more comprehensive than has been acknowledged. Asellio thus joins a group of innovative Roman historians who employed programmatic and contrastive titulature to mark their novel historiographical approaches. Among them stands L. Cornelius Sisenna, whose Historiae are limited to contemporary history; their title is redefined accordingly. Doubts about the existence of original titulature among republican historians in general seem unfounded.

In consulatu sexto et septimo postquam bella civilia exstinxeram per consensum universorum [potitus rerum own]ium rem publicam ex mea potestate in senat[us populique Romani a]rbitrium transtuli. There is very little doubt about the reading of the Latin text, except that the Greek has suggested to Schönbauer that ‘compos’ should be read for ‘potitus’. He urges that ‘compos’ has a ‘milder meaning’ than ‘potitus’ and has no connotation of the use of force. The change to ‘compos’ is worthy of consideration, but (...) suggests that the Latin ran ‘compos factus’ if ‘compos’ was used, and the phrase ‘compos factus’, though good Augustan Latin, is perhaps too retarding in rhythm to fit this place, though to that stylistic feeling too much weight should not be assigned. (shrink)

This article examines how the historian deals with ‘information’ broadly conceived, especially its acquisition, retention and loss. Ammianus details a complex interplay between those who control information and those who must work with an information deficit. Just as this dialogue plays out within the text, however, so too does it with respect to the author's methodology, which dances between the poles of incomplete and complete information depending on circumstance. Ammianus thus becomes an author as hard to pin down as many (...) of his characters, by turns the omniscient narrator and the dumbfounded participant. (shrink)

The triumph was the most prestigious accolade a politician and general could receive in republican Rome. After a brief review of the role played by the triumph in republican political culture, this article analyzes the severe limits Augustus placed on triumphal parades after 19 BC, which then became very rare celebrations. It is argued that Augustus aimed at and almost succeeded in eliminating traditional triumphal celebrations completely during his lifetime, by using a combination of refusing them for himself and his (...) relatives and of rewarding his legates who fought under his auspices with ornamenta triumphalia and an honorific statue in the Forum of Augustus. Subsequently, the elimination of the triumph would have been one natural result of the limit placed on further imperial expansion recommended by Augustus in his will, a policy his successors chose not to follow. Tiberius, however, was unwilling to conform to this new order and retired from public life to Rhodes the year after celebrating a triumph in 7 BC, the first such celebration since 19 BC. Tiberius' two triumphs and the senate's repeated offers of further triumphs to Augustus himself represented a different vision of the role triumphal celebration should take in a restored res publica and an ongoing challenge to the princeps. (shrink)

Se pretende definir el ámbito de una disciplina que, contra lo que pueda parecer, no se funda hasta el siglo XIX. Para llevar a cabo la tarea se hace necesario aclarar qué se entiende por filosofía (¿hablamos de filosofía mundana o académica?; ¿la filosofía es de tradición occidental o podemos hablar también de tradiciones orientales?; ¿en qué medida?; ¿cuáles son sus métodos?) pero también por historia (res gestae o historiam rerum gestarum). Lo cual influirá asimismo en las alternativas posibles (...) sobre la concepción de historia de la filosofía. Aquí se defenderá como filosófica esta misma —no reductible a perspectivas sociológicas, biográfico-psicológicas, etc.— y constructivista como posición superadora de una historia de los filósofos frente a una historia de los sistemas. (shrink)

How did Romans perceive the changing relationships among leaders, the people, and the public sphere as their commonwealth (res publica) fell under the control of an emperor? This paper examines Ovid’s uses of the Latin adjective publicus, ‘public, common, open’, to explore strands of implicitly ‘republican’ political thought behind his poetic corpus. Ovid first celebrates Augustus’ material benefactions as common goods for private consumption; then dramatises the tragic consequences of arbitrary domination; and finally, from exile, treats the emperor himself as (...) a public property, subject to his people’s spectatorship and sovereignty of judgment. A final section draws on Ovid’s thinking on privacy, publicity, and information access to explore themes related to America’s ‘imperial presidency’, from the Founders’ emphasis on a free press to the recent interplay of secrecy, celebrity, and ‘sunshine’ laws. (shrink)

The Res Gestae of Ammianus Marcellinus is a major source of our knowledge of the late Roman army. However, although himself a former army officer, it was not the intention of Ammianus to explain the institutions and organization of the late Roman army to his readers. We learn about these only from the incidental pieces of information which are scattered throughout his text. It was not his intention either to present us with the regimental histories of any individual units, (...) yet repeated references to the more prominent and prestigious units were inevitable in a history such as his. This was particularly true in the case of the scholae palatinae because of their role as the bodyguard units of the emperors. It is my intention here to draw together such information as Ammianus provides about the scholae in order to demonstrate how, in a number of cases in particular, it is possible to reconstruct an almost complete list of their commanders for the period c. 353–364. (shrink)

In his Res Gestae, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus describes the Egyptian city of Thebes and the obelisks that can be found there. There is an unusual passage in which he describes hieroglyphic writings. He goes on to show, through two examples, how hieroglyphs might seem bizarre, but in fact contain their own logic which can be explained : non enim ut nunc litterarum numerus praestitutus et facilis exprimit quicquid humana mens concipere potest, ita prisci quoque scriptitarunt Aegyptii, sed singulae (...) litterae singulis nominibus seruiebant et uerbis; non numquam significabant integros sensus. cuius rei scientiam his inseram duobus exemplis. per uulturem naturae uocabulum pandunt, quia mares nullos posse inter has alites inueniri rationes memorant physicae, perque speciem apis mella conficientis indicant regem moderatori cum iucunditate aculeos quoque innasci debere his signis ostendentes. et similia plurima.For the ancient Egyptians did not write as nowadays, when a prescribed and easy series of letters expresses whatever the human mind can imagine; but individual characters served as individual nouns and verbs; and sometimes they signified whole ideas. I will show the knowledge of this with these two examples. They represent the word for ‘nature’ by a vulture, because no males can be found among these birds, as natural history records; and by the figure of the bee making honey they indicate ‘a king’, showing by these signs that in a ruler stings also ought to arise from sweetness. And there are many similar instances. (shrink)

In the Res Gestae Alexandri of Julius Valerius, the manuscripts at 1.36 read Tyrum enim proteri mox pedibus haberi principis respondere. The use of habeo with infinitive as a virtual equivalent of the future tense is common in late Latin. Thielmann emended our text to read habere and is followed by the standard critical edition and by TLL. “Can haberi be defended? We ought to remember that auxiliary verbs are often ‘attracted’ into the passive when the dependent infinitive is (...) passive, in the case of some verbs regularly, with others occasionally .b It is not impossible to believe that the text at hand reflects the same phenomenon. (shrink)

At the end of book twenty of his Res Gestae Ammianus Marcellinus depicts an abundance of rainbows above the Roman army commanded by Constantius II in Persia. The significance of the rainbows as an omen is informed by his use of poetry, principally Virgil’s Aeneid. The rainbows foreshadow the death of Constantius II and the rise of Julian. Constantius’ subsequent decision to withdraw his army to winter in Antioch is framed as an anxious reaction to their presence. The episode (...) responds to a debate contemporary with Ammianus’ own period regarding the supposed ability of Constantius and Julian to foresee events. (shrink)

At the end of Book 15 of his Res Gestae Ammianus Marcellinus reports how Strategius Musonianus became the successor of the murdered Domitianus as Praefectus Praetorio Orientis . He tells that Strategius was a man versed in the two languages, i.e. Greek and Latin, and that because of this he had won a higher distinction than was expected. When Constantine the Great, so says Ammianus, was looking for an expert interpreter for his investigation into the Manichaean and similar heresies, (...) he chose Strategius as a person recommended to him as competent. Constantine was so pleased with Strategius' skilful work that he gave him the honourable nickname Musonianus, which became his official name. This assignment was the start of a great career which eventually led to his denomination as PPO under Constantius II. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Significance of R. G. Collingwood’s Principles of HistoryDavid BoucherThe Principles of History is the work that Collingwood saw as his principal philosophical enterprise, the book for which his whole intellectual life had been a preparation. It was to have been a work divided into three books. 1 In the first there was to be a discussion of the characteristics that make the special science of history distinctive. In (...) the second history was to be compared with other sciences. Third, he intended to investigate the relationship between history and practical life. He thought of beginning his project by giving a brief account of the different senses of the concept of history. Book one was divided into four chapters. The first was to concentrate on evidence and testimony relating them to scissors-and-paste history. Chapter two was to present a theory of action, res gestae, or action expressive of thought, in contrast with the idea of process, or change, associated with pseudo-history. In chapter three reenactment was to be discussed and contrasted with the idea of a dead past. Chapter four was to argue that history in contrast with other purported pretenders to the title can justifiably claim to be the science of the mind. Book two was divided into three chapters. Chapter one was to discuss history and natural science, showing that neither could be reduced to each other. He also wanted to contend that the natural sciences are themselves historical achievements in that they depend upon the historical facts of observation and thought. Chapter two was to deal with history and the human sciences, such as economics, which he describes as crypto-histories. In the third chapter Collingwood intended to explore the relation between history and philosophy. In book three, which is described less precisely, he wanted to argue that history overcomes the distinction between theory and practice, and that reenactment overcomes the dualism between mind and its objects. This, he thought, would enable him to give a characterization of historical morality and historical civilization in contrast with their utilitarian counterparts.He began writing the book on 15 February 1939 and had finished the first three chapters by 23 February. Over a month later, on 26 and 27 March, he began chapter four but was unable to formulate his thoughts on the past, and the relation between history and philosophy. At this point he stopped, never to return to the manuscript again. What we have left of The Principles of History deviates considerably from the original plan. Only three chapters were written, the third of which does not contain the crucial discussion of re-enactment. In addition, uncompleted fragments of the beginnings of a fourth chapter remain.In this paper I intend to look at why Collingwood’s explicit authorization to publish the Principles of History was disregarded by Knox and Oxford University Press. In addition, I want to look at three aspects of the rediscovered manuscript. In the second and third sections, on the method and subject matter of history respectively, I examine the extent to which Knox’s suppression of the Principles of History contributed to a good deal of the confusion surrounding the interpretation of Collingwood’s key ideas. What emerges from the pages of the Principles of History is how integral The Principles of Art and An Essay on Metaphysics are to understanding Collingwood’s later philosophy of history, a connection that is distorted by the patchwork nature of The Idea of History.In the fourth section of the paper I suggest that the most significant omission to which Collingwood never returned was the theory of reenactment. Reenactment more than any other aspect of his writings has been placed by interpreters at the centre of Collingwood’s philosophy of history. W. H. Dray’s new book is wholly focused upon this theme. Dray did not, however, see The Principles of History in time to incorporate the implications for reenactment theory of Collingwood’s broadening of the subject matter of history to include the emotions. 2 The theory of reenactment could no longer be sustained by the earlier argument found in The Idea of History, because Collingwood, in The Principles of... (shrink)