From my diary

I spent some time this evening writing a page on the Mithraeum discovered at Lugo (ancient “Lucus Augusti” in Spain) in 2003.  Found a few images online, mostly of the dig, but also of a rather splendid granite altar, about 3 feet tall.

It was slightly frustrated to discover that the publication of the find is in the “Journal of Roman Archaeology”, which is not in JSTOR and kindly offers to sell you access at $1 per page for a PDF.  It’s a bit depressing to see that sort of greediness still lingering — as if the taxpayer had not already funded every bit of content in the journal, and funded every single subscription ever bought. 

A corrrespondent has encouraged me to go and see some of the Mithraea.  When the weather improves, perhaps I will.  It might be a nice focus for some little day-trips.

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From my diary

Last night I spent hunched over a hot scanner, transforming a text book from paper into a PDF.  My first reason for doing so is that it is simply more accessible in that format.  The library charges $8 to borrow it, and lends it to me for a fortnight.  That isn’t long enough to do more than look briefly at it.  The other reason, simply, is that in PDF form it is searchable and far more useful.  It also doesn’t occupy floor-space in these ridiculously small modern houses.  It was 400 pages, so it took a while.

While so doing, I continued to read about the fetiales priests, and their spokesman, the pater patratus.  It’s really very clear that the priests existed to ensure that, when Rome went to war, the gods were onside, or at least not on the side of the other guy.  So these chaps did the rituals that were necessary, delivered warnings and threats, and generally acted as backup-men for the senate.  Divine retribution was something that, in the Roman mind, should always happen to the other guy.  They took the possibility seriously, and acted to prevent it.  The priests were, in other words, a state responsibility.  Each of the early Latin cities did the same and had the same kinds of people, under the same names even.  Even in the time of Claudius, a representative of Lanuvium, concluding a treaty with Rome, held the same title when he performed the role and is recorded under it.  Nothing suggests that it was a permanent post; nor, really, that it was not.  But there were 20 fetiales, a delegation consisted of 4; and presumably, therefore, they chose one of their number to do the role for that trip.  It would be pretty unlikely that one poor chap had to go on every embassy, which is the other alternative.

So where does this leave us, when we find a follower of Mithras with that title?  Does it relate to the cult in any way?  Or is it merely a role that he held for other reasons, and so is mentioned on his inscription?

We shall consider it.

Meanwhile another project of mine is going forward.  Eusebius’ Commentary on Luke is being translated for the first time.  The first two columns from the Patrologia Graeca edition hit my inbox today.  The work may or may not be Eusebian, but it is certainly interesting!

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From my diary

Roger Beck’s collection of essays, Beck on Mithraism, has arrived at my local library and I have taken possession of it.  It will be interesting to look at, although I find that it is difficult to concentrate on any project while I am working at full pressure in my day-job.

I’m still working through Manfred Clauss’ book on Mithras, but the same problem applies.

A review of the Eusebius book, Gospel Problems and Solutions, has appeared in Adamantius, who have kindly sent me a PDF of it.  It’s in Italian (which means that I have not read it yet) and by the excellent Christophe Guignard.

A translation of the remarks of John the Lydian on February, in his book On the Roman Months, is complete, has been paid for, and will appear here very soon now.  It is quite excellent and very interesting.  The work suffers from lacunae, at points where the manuscript was unreadable.  The edition in question appeared a century ago and I can’t help wondering what a modern UV photograph might reveal.

Meanwhile it looks as if we will be getting a translation of a short sermon by Severian of Gabala!

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From my diary

I’ve never actually owned a printed copy of Manfred Clauss’ The Roman cult of Mithras, which is the standard introduction to the subject.  I’ve made photocopies of bits of it.  Latterly I found online somewhere a PDF of the whole thing.  But I’ve never had a copy.

Well, last week I cracked and bought one.  It arrived today, and I have started to read it.  It is, really, truly, super.  In fact you get far more from it in printed form, than in PDF.  Just skipping through the pages looking for tidbits is not nearly the same.  So … I am enjoying it.  Even if the publisher printed the cover photograph back to front!

A couple of ILL’s have arrived at the library, including one on the Mithraeum at Dieburg and one on marginalia in Greek papyri.  I shall have some nice things to read next week!

I’ve been quite ill for the last month, and I only went back to work last week.  I was still quite shaky, and went back very hesitantly and carefully, and only because I don’t get paid sitting at home.  I just about survived, but had to leave my laptop at home and rest every evening.  Expect light blogging until I get rather better.

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Mali and the politics of spite

The events at Timbuktoo have been on my mind in the last week, and probably those of anyone interested in manuscripts.

As we all now know, the colonial territory now called Mali is divided on race lines between Arabs in the north, plus some Touareg in the desert, and negros in the south.  When the Americans forced the colonial power to withdraw, power was handed over to the leaders of the black south, who have behaved in the manner that everyone other than the Americans predicted.  So far, so tediously 20th century.  It seems likely that various no-goods, vagabonds and ruffians in the north acquired heavy arms during the recent revolution in Libya, and set out southwards to grab what they could.   They quickly found that the civilised “army” in Mali was no more than a bunch of political musclemen, cruel, but weak, cowardly and ill-disciplined.  The “army” promptly ran away.  All this, by the way, could be a description of the events in the Sudan at the time of the Mahdi.  The desert folk seized control of the towns on the southern edge of the desert, including Timbuktoo.  Lacking any motive but Islam, they amused themselves by imposing it on the inhabitants.  They also moved into the new library building which they treated as sleeping accomodation.  These were not, evidently, a national movement.  They were a bunch of bandits and nothing more.

When this ragtag band of “Islamists” threatened to take over the whole country, the colonial power, France, despatched a few hundred soldiers and some aircraft, and the desert vagabonds promptly ran away and hid in the hills.  On their way out of Timbuktoo, they are said to have set fire to the library, presumably out of spite.

At the moment it sounds as if the majority of the manuscripts are safe, because they were taken elsewhere in the town.  All this highlights the dangers of “preservation”, by placing valuable material in a central location in a third-world state.  I do wish that people would stop doing this, for it always leads to trouble.

It highlights the need, far more urgent than building libraries, for a photographic record of all the documents.

The other point to highlight is one for those of us who try to educate, to help, to make things better in this world.  It is very simple, but we tend to forget it, in our benevolence.  It is this:

Some people don’t give a s***.

It is worth remembering.  The bandits knew and cared nothing about Timbuktoo and its heritage.  Even though, primarily, it was culturally their heritage. That heritage to them was of no more importance than a nice new building to sleep in; and something to burn, out of spite, towards others.  It mattered less than an old rug on their camel.

The same attitude may be found everywhere, including in the western world.  We need to remember that, just because what we are doing is obviously valuable, it does not mean that some scumbag will not set out to wreck it.  Just because he can.

The presence of real evil in mankind is something that it is easy for us to forget, in our genial, ivory towers.  We must not.  Against such evil-doers we need to use force; for they respect nothing else.  This is why we need policemen.  This is why, sometimes, we need bullets, and we need to use them.

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From my diary

For the last week or so, I have been adding extra material to the new Mithras site from inscriptions and monuments.  I’ve been concentrating on the section on British monuments in Vermaseren’s CIMRM (collection of Mithraic monuments).  It’s been really quite interesting, ferretting around in Google Books trying to find this article or that book, which might have a picture of the item.

Of course most of the monuments are of no special interest.  Which leads one, inevitably, to the question of which monuments are important, and how to highlight these.

Not that I need worry about that too much just yet!

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From my diary

I spent some time yesterday hunting for volume 4 of Archaeologia Aeliana, published in 1846.  This may contain an account of the discovery of the Rudchester Mithraeum, and so I wanted to read it.

Sadly Google Books is really bad at handling series.  Archive.org generally is better, but I couldn’t find that specific volume.  Rather frustrating, that.

On a more positive note, I found that the Journal of Roman Studies is in JSTOR.  These days that means that I can access it!

UPDATE:  It seems that Rudchester was known as “Rutchester” in the 19th century – all these places along Hadrian’s Wall are little more than farms — and a search for “Rutchester Mithras” in Google Books took me straight to … Archaeologia Aeliana volume 4!  I enclose the link for other frustrated searchers.  Come on, Google; why not help us here?

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From my diary

I’ve been lying on the sofa, reading Aelian’s Varia Historia.  I’ve just read the anecdote in which Lais boasts to Socrates that she could lure away all of Socrates’ followers if she wished, while Socrates could not possibly induce any of Lais’ admirers to behave philosophically.  Socrates acknowledged the truth of this, and replied that this was because she led men downhill, whereas he led them to improve themselves.

Applications of the saying will occur to us in other contexts.  Indeed I have a dim memory of a worldly Church of England cleric, a century ago, taunting a Roman Catholic priest with the fewness of the latter’s flock, when compared to his own well-filled pews — in those days of official religion — and receiving the same response.  Let us hope that the eager employee of the state recognised the allusion and was ashamed.

The Loeb edition of Horace’s Odes arrived.  But, eheu, the translator decided to render them into Jacobean English.  Maybe I shall be forced to buy the Rudd edition after all.  Curiously the book arrived with damp, but not mouldly, pages.  I have been drying it out under my desk lamp!

I’ve added a couple of entries for monuments to the new Mithras site, which is doing well for traffic.  That is encouraging!

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From my diary

It seems that I have access to L’annee epigraphique through JSTOR.  This is convenient, although searching 50 years of issues for material about Mithras may take some time.  Rather less convenient is that each issue is divided into a bunch of separate PDF’s.  This makes searching quite a bit harder, if I have to download several hundred PDF’s.  Oh rats!

I realised last night that the Loeb volume of Horace that I was reading only contained the Satires and Letters.  It turns out that there is a companion volume containing the Odes and Epodes (whatever those are).

After some thought, I decided not to buy a copy of the Niall Rudd edition, currently in print, but to purchase the older Loeb by a certain S. Bennett (if I remember the name correctly).  I confess that I find the austere classicism of the first half of the 20th century infinitely preferable to modern translations.  The softening of the obscenity present in all such works is likewise very welcome.

The flu that I was battling for two weeks over new year has returned, because of stress at work.  So I was obliged to abandon my hotel room and drive home late last night.  Life on the road is never enjoyable, and it is quite impossible unless in good health.  So today has largely been another wasted day.  I’ve been reading snippets from Aelian’s Varia Historia.  With a headache one doesn’t feel like reading much!  But gossipy books that one can dip into anywhere are always welcome.  They are, in some senses, the ancient equivalent of a modern magazine like Readers Digest.  I could use a few more!

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From my diary

Back at work after two weeks illness, and I find myself suffering from the tiredness that goes with being less than fully fit after illness.  But I’m still busy with this and that.

I’ve been reading a little red hardback Loeb edition of Horace, and enjoying it more than I thought that I might.  I’ve read it through before, of course, but it wasn’t very interesting to me then.  This time it has been very good to read.  The editor refers to the scholiasts on Horace; Porphyrio and the like.  Their explanatory passages tell us who were some of the now-mysterious personages referred to in the text.  Isn’t it funny that we don’t have translations of these?  I know that the old scholia on Juvenal are really quite short; and I wish these existed in English.  Perhaps I should seek out the scholia on Horace also.

The Horace has been on my shelves for ages.  It wasn’t new when I bought it for five pounds at some unremembered second-hand shop.  It was reprinted in 1961, and so I must infer was the property of another.  His heirs disposed of his books for a song, no doubt, and so it comes to me.  There is no book-plate – do men use book-plates any more? – nor note of name.  One day it will pass on from me also.  I hope the next owner enjoys it too.

Work on the Mithras site continues, and consists at the moment of adding entries from Vermaseren’s Corpus Inscriptionum et Monumentum Religionis Mithriacae to the site.  I try to find a photograph in every case, although clearly more work will be needed.  Gratifyingly, it is attracting some traffic.  I haven’t really worked on the text pages on the site much.  Once I have identified all the inscriptions and monuments that reference “Arimanius”, then I shall rework that page.  That would seem to be a good way forward.  In the mean time, I can do best by adding data.

Most recently I’ve been looking at some of the entries in the CIMRM for the Carrawburgh Mithraeum.  These mainly consist of quotations from the Illustrated London News, as the temple had only just been discovered in the 50’s.  Irritatingly the ILN is not online.  There is a gushy story in the Guardian about it “going online”, but in reality all that has happened is that a commercial company has digitised it and made access available for money to well-heeled institutions.  I shall need to consult it, and that means a 40 mile journey.  I could wish that our government put a stop to this kind of extortion racket, which, after all, is funded by taxpayers money.

But this has led me to draw up a list of things to do, places to go, and photos to take.  I have also started to look around to find out how I can discover what monuments, items, inscriptions about Mithras have been published in the last 50 years.  At some point I shall have to start searching these, draw up a table of monuments and add them to the site.  It will be rather fun to do some field trips!  But … I shall probably have to seek the cooperation of the curators.  And petty bureaucrats can be a pain.  Likewise I need to get good photographs, yet I am a rotten photographer.  So a little planning and thought seems called for.

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