Roman History

Teaching Thursday: New Semester, New Goals

It is the first Thursday of the new semester and I’m excited about my class. This semester, I’m teaching History 101: Western Civilization I to about 40 students, Roman History to about 25, and the Practicum in Writing, Editing, and Publishing to 5 or so.

This semester, one of my goals is improving attendance in my History 101 class. In this class, I have the students work in groups to use primary source readers and an open access textbook to create supplemental readings for the assigned textbook. This involves producing a glossary as well as two directed primary source reading modules where students use primary sources to “deepen” a topic addressed in the chapter and “expand” the material in a chapter.

Historically (heh) this class has struggled with poor attendance especially during the mid-semester doldrums. I’ve blogged about this endlessly. This semester, I addressed the issue head on the first day of class. I explained why I would prefer not to result to a kind of punitive approach to attendance where I gave quizzes when attendance dropped below a certain point. Moreover, I offered a casual critique of transactional educational models where we confused measurable and assessable outcomes with the messy work of learning. Students have been told and internalized the idea that the grades and credits are what matters and they assume that these recorded and standardized marks represent learning.  

Instead, I introduced the idea that learning isn’t something that comes along with a grade or a credit hour, but what actually takes place in the classroom. This not only challenges the transactional model education, but also replaces it with a model based on working together to produce knowledge. This is consistent, I think, with the historical purpose of the history classroom (heh) and the seminar where students worked together to understand complex sources and texts. At the same time, it creates an expectation that group work isn’t a method, but the goal. As a result, students come to class not to get a grade, but because they understand that being in class is the goal. 

I’ve also invited the students to talk with me about what would encourage and support them attending class regularly and participating in the work of their group. My current plan is to set aside some time to talk to students about attendance and have them see attendance not as part of some transactional understanding but as fundamental to the experience of learning.

My Roman History class, and my upper level courses in general, has rarely suffered from attendance challenges in the same way as my 100-level courses. (Although I have had occasional ideas of taking my 16 week class and transforming it into four, four-week modules of which students need to attend during three of those modules. This would align the class better, I think, with student expectations). 

That said, I still think introducing the idea of community to these classrooms explicitly offers students a new way to think about their education. For Roman History, it coincides with my emphasis on thinking with and about texts collectively. My Roman (Greek and Byzantine classes) are scaffolded around a series of texts which form the bulk of the courses content. In the case of Roman History these are Sallust, Apuleius, Augustine’s Confessions, and Corippus’s, In laudem lustini Augusti minoris. 

My one innovation in this class is that I’m going to release the final exam in week four (of 16) and allow students to turn in the exam whenever they want over the course of the semester. The idea in doing this is two fold. First, it eliminates the end of the semester stress brought on by the arbitrary due date. And, second, it encourages students to think about their own learning and to discern when they have come to understand enough to address big picture questions in the class. (Of course, this means that I have to come up with a flexible enough exam question to make this all work!).

Finally, it looks like I have enough interested students to run a 1-credit student reading group early Thursday mornings. Despite some fairly thoughtful efforts to discourage me from having students read Ronald Syme’s The Roman Revolution (1939). The class will simply involve us getting together and chatting about a few chapters each week. For those of you who have read Syme, the contemporary relevance of the book goes without saying; for those of you who haven’t… well you should!

Writing Wednesday: A Kiln at Polis

As readers of this blog know, I’ve been using my winter research leave to work on a paper writing up an article that documents the pottery productive installation at Polis (ancient Arsinoe). It’s been a nice project after the toil of finishing a book. 

So far, I’ve shared a section on a lamp deposit and a levigation pool. This is a very-drafty section of this same article that describes the kiln and offers some very preliminary summative remarks. 

The Kiln

In 1990, excavations through the material that filled the levigation pool revealed the upper levels of the beehive kiln. These rubbly fill levels continue to appear to date to the Late Roman period with Cypriot Red Slip sherds (T06.1990.Level 47: CRSK3 [L47P1B40], CRS Body Sherds [L47P1B37]),Late Roman cook pots ([L47P1B13 and B18]) and what what appear to be lamp wasters (L47P1B19 and B20) reflecting how disturbed this entire area was in antiquity.

In 1991, excavations of the kiln began in earnest when the removal of the south wall exposed more of the upper levels of the kiln. The superimposition of the south wall and the levigation pool over the kiln allow us to date the kiln itself to no later than the 2nd century AD as the wall and the levigation pool must be no earlier than this date. As the kiln and levigation pool run atop the kiln, it is obvious that the kiln must have been out of use by the time of their construction. The base of the kiln is a meter below the the lowest level of the levigation pool.

The truncated shape of the kiln this indicates that the builders of the levigation pool removed the highest courses of the kiln to create a flat space of the pool and the south wall, whether contemporary with the pool or not, cut across the top of the leveled kiln. It seems probable that kiln builders cut the apsidal shaped kiln into the natural slope of the ground on the east side the ravine to that the basilica construction fill took pains to level. The preserved courses of the kiln were constructed of rough field stones and opened to the west. The presence of mud brick fragments in the kiln suggest that this material was used to either line the kiln’s stone walls or for its upper courses. This is consistent with the proposed construction methods of the kilns at Zygy-Petrera and Dhiorios (cf. Manning et al. 2000; Catling 1972, 29). The lowest levels of excavations in the kiln did not discern a distinction between the firing chamber and the lower combustion chamber. It may be that the excavators did not reach the lowest levels of the kiln, that the kiln was cleaned out after it fell out of use, or, as at Dhiorios, the fuel was burned inside the kiln amid the pots (Catling 1972, 31). Because the excavations occurred at the very end of the 1991 season, they were hastily recorded. The absence of significant quantities of kiln debris within the kiln suggest that the kiln was cleaned out after it went out of use.

The excavators excavated the interior of the kiln in a series of arbitrary levels. What is interesting is that most of the material in the upper levels of the kiln dates to the Hellenistic period. The lowest levels of the kiln, however, include a small number of Roman period sherds including fragments of Eastern Sigillata A and B and Cypriot Sigillata. The absence of any significant traces of Roman period material in the upper levels of kiln and the location of the kiln on the eastern side of north-south drainage suggests that kiln was filled deliberately. If the filling of the kiln was part of constructing a terrace or level area upon which to build the levigation pool, this would account for the reversed stratigraphy as the upper level of the kiln is filled with material cut from deeper below the slope of the ravines surface. The process of creating terraced surfaces along the slope of the ravine during the Roman period appears to have occurred on the western side of the drainage as well. Whatever accounts from this inverted stratigraphy, the Roman material deep in the kiln provides a terminus post quem for the abandonment of this structure. This date is largely consistent with the date of the fills associated with both South Wall phases and the material behind the tiles wall of the levigating pond.

Conclusion and Comparanda

The small number of excavated Roman pottery production sites on Cyprus make it challenging to identify clear comparanda both for the kiln and its associated features. The kiln appears to have had a beehive or conical shape with a diameter of around 1 m at the lowest excavated courses. This makes this kiln a good bit smaller than best preserved ancient kilns at Dhiorios, but approximately the same diameter and shape as the kiln documented eroding from the scarp at Zygi-Petrini in the Maroni valley on the south coast of the island. In other words, the size of the kiln is appropriate for ancient pottery manufacturing on Cyprus, but perhaps at a small scale or designed to fire table wares or lamps.

The proximity of the kiln to the later levigation pool and treading basin appear to be a common assemblage associated with kilns in the Levant. Sites such as Legio X Fretensis Kilnworks at Binyanei Ha’uma (Jerusalem), and Horbat ‘Uza, and Tel Yavne preserve some combination of kilns, pools, and treading surfaces used to process raw clay. While the levigation pools very in size and depth they are generally stone lined and sealed with water proof cement. The size of the pool at Polis, of course, remains indeterminant because its northern side was lost. That said, the preserve section of the pool finds parallels with the pools at the ceramic production site in the Levant. It suggests that this is not the site of small scale production but part of a larger complex that the limits of the excavation failed to reveal. The combination of these pools in close proximity to kilns, installation for wheels, and other features associated with ceramic production indicate a kind of integrated production site where clay is processed, refined, and fired into objects and vessels. The presence of clay deposits both in the proximity to Polis and in the broader region as well as a market for ceramic vessels make the area to the north of the city a suitable location for production at the scale assumed by this levigation pool.

The kiln is not contemporary with the levigation pool or other production activities in the area. The use of an area for ceramic manufacturing across multiple phases is consistent with the remains at Dhiorios where earlier kilns were buried beneath a so-called “Potter’s House.” Catling argues that the Potter’s House must not date much earlier than the 6th century and effectively assigns the early kilns, house, and later 7th-8th century kilns to a two century span of time. The relationship between the kiln and later levigation pool at Polis is likely chronologically closer than the phases at Dhiorios but nevertheless reflects the tendency for continuity of use in ceramic production areas. This likely has to do with the proximity of resources — clay and also fuel for kilns, the presence of a slope to support kiln walls, and location far enough from settlement to avoid subjecting residents to the smoke and commotion of the production area, but close enough to be convenient for the distribution of good and access to labor. Indeed, as the final section of this article will show, it appears that most Roman period activity in the area of E.F2 involved production of some description.

Writing Wednesday: A Levigation Pool

As readers of this blog know, I’m leaning into this winter research leave by focusing on a short article describing the pottery manufacturing installation at the site of Polis (ancient Arsinoe) on Cyprus. Much of this is based on a 2024 ASOR paper which you can read here.

Last week, I wrote about an assemblage of second century lamps. This week, I’ve been working on the features associated with pottery production including a levigation pool, a possible treading basin, and ultimately an earlier kiln. Here’s what I managed to peck over the last few days. 

Oh! And happy holidays! 

The Levigation Pool

Excavations in both 1990 and 1991 revealed the top of a series of vertically arranged terracotta tiles arranged to form the coping of a pool. The excavators described this pool as a “fish pond,” but its proximity to a workshop area, size, and general characteristics make it more likely to have been a pool for the mixing of raw clay and water as part of the levigation process. The tiles that defined the pool appear to be in reuse and from monumental buildings. They seems have been set into a vertical bedding of clay which would have provided a degree of waterproofness and a layer of bright red clay covered the inner surface of the tiles. The interior layer of clay was either residue from the levigation process or, as plausibly, applied as a way to waterproof the sides of the pool. The floor of the pool seems to consist of a “hard, crusty, dried, clay-like earth floor” which perhaps represents the residue of the levigation process. The levigation pool itself consists of two perpendicular lines of coping tiles suggesting a pool that measured 5 meter east-west and perhaps 3 meter north-south. This estimate of the pools north-south dimensions depends upon location of a basin described in the notebook as a “pithos.” It appears, however, that this “pithos” was an open ceramic basin whose lowest level is at approximately the same elevation as the lowest parts of the pool’s coping tiles (around 18 m ASL). It seems reasonable to conclude that the basin and the pool are contemporary and that pool’s northern limits must fall before the area around the basin. Published examples of levigation pools from the Levant suggest that a pool of 15 sq. m would be relatively large, but not outside the range of dimensions for these features. Its size indicates the capacity to levigate large quantities of clay at the preliminary stage ceramic production process, and this suggests that it served a large production site. The basins to the north of the pool is a common feature at ceramic production sites in the Levant and should probably be associated with the treading of clay.

The main challenge in dating this pool and its associated basin is that the area where it stood was a busy one in the Roman and Late Roman periods. Not only was the basilica leveling fill and contemporary foundations cut through the area most likely disturbing the the western side of the levigation pool, but a wall preserved in two phases seems to have complicated and potentially disturbed the pool prior to the basilica construction. As a result, the overall stratigraphy of the area is compromised with only small areas of undisturbed soil behind the coping tiles of the pool preserving a small assemblage of datable material. The latest sherd in this material is a CS Form 30 dates to the 2nd century in the late series of Cypriot Sigillata form. There are also the thickened rims of contemporary globular cooking pots known from Paphos in this assemblage. Eastern Sigillata Form 4 and 30 appear to date to a century earlier as does a lagynos with parallel at Paphos (Hayes Series 5, no. 14). Material excavated from within the basin offers little additional evidence for date although the utility and cooking wares and color coated wares might date earlier than the material associated with the pool. Since the pool and the basin are almost certainly contemporary, the presence of earlier material in the basin itself reflects the generally confused stratigraphy of the area.

The pool stood near the intersection of two walls: one to the south and one to the east. The date and precise relationship between these walls and pool remains unclear. The wall immediately to the south of the levigation pool has three phases with the later two phases being seemingly Late Roman in date, but presumably before the leveling and filling of the area for the construction of the basilica. The earliest phase likely dates to either the same time or slightly later than the levigation pool, but the exact relationship between the wall and the pool remains opaque as does the relationship between the south wall and wall . The levigation pool and the wall both cut into levels that date to no earlier than the 2nd-century AD and contain CS12 and CS29 which generally belong to the later sequence of this type of pottery (L28). The wall that runs along the eastern side of the levigation pool is a series of superimposed walls similar to the south wall. The latest phase of this wall is Late Roman, but the earlier phase is likely contemporary with the Roman period road to the east and perhaps joints with the south wall. Our inability to distinguish the exact sequence of construction reflects the sometimes rapid adaptation of this area for new uses as production needs required.

Writing Wednesday: Contextualizing Lamps from Polis

Over the first week of my winter research leave, I’ve been pressing to prepare a draft of an article on our work at Polis. In particular, I’m looking to publish the results of our analysis of the area around a levigation pool, a kiln, and an assemblage of Roman period lamps. Much of this is based on a 2024 ASOR paper which you can read here.

One of the most interesting components of this article is an assemblage of second century lamps that appear to be stratigraphically unrelated to the levigation pool and kiln as features, but seemingly must have derived from the area. This provides a nice opportunity to explore the limits of archaeological epistemology. While the character of our data makes it impossible (or at least very unlikely) that I can conclusively link the lamp assemblage with the features associated with ceramic production, it is nevertheless highly plausible that these things have some connection.

Another little bonus is that we’re leaning into using Airtable not only to work collaboratively on our data, but also to do some basic analysis. This means we can share our work both with one another and in preliminary ways with readers here. Here is a sneak peek at our context pottery data from E.F2:S06 levels 13, 14, and 15. 

Here’s some of my preliminary analysis.

The Lamps

This consideration of the depositional processes active around the South Basilica presents context for a deposit of lamps found amid strata of predominantly Late Roman material immediately to the east of the basilica apse. Indeed, preponderance of lamps in a single area led the excavators to isolate this area and excavate it as a separate level (Level 14). In terms of stratigraphy, the lamp deposit (Level 14) was not distinct from the levels above it (Level 13) or below it (Level 15). As we have noted, excavators associated these levels with the basilica leveling fill potentially disturbed by lowest course of the apse foundations. The material in Levels 13, 14, and 15, in general dated to no earlier than the Hellenistic period and no later than the Late Roman. Within that chronological range, the material was heterogeneous with the exception of the lamp deposit.

This assemblage produced over 50 lamp fragments and a number of complete lamps. The lamps were largely two forms: Q2460 and Q2465 from Bailey’s 1975 British Museum catalogue; these are also known as Loeschcke Type V lamps. These lamps have a flat base, a small ring handle and volutes on either side of a short spout. Q2460 has a blank disk and undecorated shoulder whereas Q2465 features a peacock on a pomegranate bough and ovules on the shoulder. Bailey associates these lamp forms in the British Museum with the Kitchener/Hake excavations at either Salamis or Kourion and Oziol notes similar lamps from the French excavations from Salamis. They both date these lamps on stylistic grounds to the first half of the second century AD. This makes them loosely contemporary with the residual Roman period material found in the basilica leveling fills and, as we will demonstrate below, the material associated with the pottery manufacturing activity in the area.

It is not just the quantity of lamps concentrated in one depositional context, but the consistency of the lamps appearing in this context that set them apart from lamps identified elsewhere at Polis and in the area of E.F2 specifically. In fact, the types of lamps recovered from the fill over the kiln were exceedingly rare elsewhere in E.F2 with only one example of Q2460 (LA340) and Q2465 (LA485) type lamps appearing elsewhere. More than that, many of the lamps recovered from the fill over the kiln showed no signs of use or blackening around the wick hole. They also included several generations from the same mould as is evident in the deteriorating sharpness of the peacock on the bough. The assemblage of lamps from this assemblage is also remarkably homogeneous compared to fragments of lamps found elsewhere in E.F2. There are two contexts of particular note that produced a large number of inventoried fragments of lamps. Trench H10 to the south of the basilica produce a large number of very small lamp fragments with many being undiagnostic or dating to the Classical-Hellenistic period. There were no complete lamps. Trench M10 to the east of H10 produced numerous fragments of a handful of Roman period lamps including a well preserved fragment of a pornographic lamp (LA796). Like the lamps recovered from trench H10, however, the fragments produced few examples of complete lamps and these complete lamps appeared in relatively wide range for forms. In short, the other areas of E.F2 where excavators encountered a large number of lamp fragments (and complete lamps) produced more diverse and fragmentary assemblages of material that showed so no signs of the integrity of the S06 deposit.

Levels 13, 14, and 15 produced material that was contemporary with the lamp deposit. In particular, these levels produced a substantial number of diagnostic Cypriot Sigillata forms with a clear bias toward the so-called “Late Series” of CS dating to the later 1st through 2nd century. These included forms P11 and P29 which appear in predominantly 2nd century contexts at the Paphos Agora (Kajzer and Marzec 2020, 252) as well as other late forms in P30 and P41 dated by Hayes to the 2nd century (Lund CPSP; Hayes 1985f, Hayes 1991) and a P12 bowl which tends toward the 2nd century. Along with these 2nd century forms are earlier and more common forms P22 and P28 and a rare form P34. This material appeared alongside cooking wares in forms that Rowe has associated with Western Cypriot manufacture and dates to deposits in the 2nd century. This material complements the general impression left by the fine wares. While the samples are small, the percentage of ESA in these level is lower than elsewhere across E.F2 and while CS percentages remain similar, the prevalence of late forms suggests that the Roman period material in these levels may well reflect the presence of a 2nd century context amid the otherwise much later leveling fill. This is consistent with the presence of a lamp assemblage which Bailey has dated to between 50 and 150 AD. In fact, it seems plausible to date the lamps to the 2nd-century component of these deposits recognizing that the residual material forms a lens in an otherwise later deposit.

Winter Writing Wednesday

Last week, I was able to send my book manuscript to my publisher for review. This means that my book now has a (tentative) title: Archaeology, Photography, Oil: Workforce Housing in the Bakken. This means that I now have some time to work on other projects. For example, yesterday, I did pre-production work on most of the poetry for NDQ. I finished up some letters of recommendation, and I’m working on two books that are in production at my press. And, of course, there is grading. Always grading.

I am committed to making this winter productive even as the dust settles on the fall semester (amid the dying gasps of a winter storm). I have three projects that I really want to complete.

1. A Kiln at Ancient Arsinoe. In 2023 and 2024, we completed work documenting the kiln and surroundings in the area of E.F2 at Polis. We gave a paper on this at the 2024 ASOR conference. The kiln dates to the Roman period and was part of a multiphase installation that seems to have focused on ceramic production. The article, which we plan to submit to BASOR, will document these features and introduce the related ceramic assemblage. In particular, we’ll propose that a group of lamps found nearby might be the product of the ceramic installation. This assemblage of lamps, including several from the same mould and several showing no signs of use, is unusual at Polis because unlike the lamp fragments found elsewhere at the site, there is a remarkable level of consistency in the assemblage found near the kiln installation. The most vexing thing is that there is no clear stratigraphic (or depositional) relationship between the lamp assemblage and the ceramic production installations. This also is the fun and challenging part of this article.

2. Midwestern Modernism and the Regional Magazine: The First 23 volumes of North Dakota Quarterly (1910-1933). This is my major writing project of the new year and for a volume called the Edinburgh Companion to the Regional Magazine. I’m incredibly excited to write this piece and I am intrigued by the editorial team’s decision to host not only a writing day, but also some lightening presentations from the contributors. This is a brilliant way not only to ensure that we are writing, but also that our contributions will coalesce (potentially) around some key themes. Be prepared to see more on this in the coming months!

Here’s the current abstract:

Founded in 1910 at the University of North Dakota, North Dakota Quarterly represented a new type of regional magazine at the intersection of the expansion of higher education into middle of the American continent and new currents modernist thought—sometimes referred to as “Midwestern Modernism.” This movement developed across literature, art, architecture, and education and found fertile ground in turn-of-the-century “little magazines” which celebrated regional voices in an accessible style and at a modest price. While the magazine initially featured the work of University of North Dakota faculty, it soon expanded beyond campus voices with contributions of appeal to a regional audience. The juxtaposition of regional with national (and even global) issues in its pages reflected the growing sense of cosmopolitanism among Quarterly‘s authors and audience. Ironically the global engagement that played out across its pages ultimately paused its publication in 1933 as a result of university budget cuts during the Great Depression. This contribution looks to the first two decades of the Quarterly as a window into “Midwestern Modernism” and the contemporary development of regional magazines across the early-20th century American Midwest.

3. Survey Archaeology and Modern Greece. My colleague Nota Pantzou (University of Patras) and I are slowing bringing together an edited volume on the archaeology of contemporary Greece. This volume will include a paper that I co-authored with Grace Erny and Dimitri Nakassis at the Patras conference. Our paper compares the sites of Lakka Skoutara in the southeastern Corinthia and Chelmis in the western Argolid. The former can now bring in data published by the Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Survey on Open Context. 

Since my paper included a good many references to work by other scholars (and our work in these areas), it should not be particularly complicated to expand it to 5,000 or 6,000 words.

Kim Bowes, Surviving Rome: The Economic Lives of the Ninety Percent

I’ve been enjoying Kim Bowes’ latest book, Surviving Rome, and I’ve blogged a bit about it on my Thanksgiving live blog. The book contributed nicely my thinking about my Roman History class in the spring. I’ll likely include it as a highly recommended book for students to review in the class. 

The book examines the economic lives of “the 90%” of the Roman world though archaeology, non-literary texts (especially graffiti, ostraca, and papyrus), numismatics, and human bodies. The book is intentionally short on big picture conclusions (as so many books purporting to deal with economic life seek to offer) and long on the kind of granular detail the entices subtle new readings of material culture, rural life, and the Roman economy. 

Rather than proceeding with a long (and probably tedious) review, there were a handful of things that stood out to me:

1. Consumer Culture. Bowes makes a compelling argument that the 90% enjoyed a kind of Roman consumer culture with a wide range of manufactured things in their possession. Metal objects for work, pleasure and adornment, glass plates, lamps, and glasses, ceramic table, cooking, and utility wares, various articles of clothing, and other perishable articles presumably made of wood would have created a world full of things. This means that the 90% had a disposable income and a desire to surround themselves with objects that demonstrated their taste. In short, the poor and middling of Roman society liked nice things too. They were not simply living at the subsistence level, even in the countryside, but engaged in a thriving material culture.

2. Roman Farms. Roman archaeologists know Bowes’s work on the rural landscape and farms with the Roman Peasant Project. In Surviving Rome, she is more cursory, but reminds us how densely populated the Roman rural landscape would have been even in places like northern Gaul and Britain. The number of farms indicated both the intensity of Roman agricultural exploitation of the landscape as well as existence of social and economic networks necessary to support the rural monetary economy and various forms of highly local economic exchange.

What is more important than that, however, is that Bowes definitively rejects any idea of subsistence agriculture in the Roman world. The small to midsized Roman farmer was immersed in a complex economy of trade and exchange, things, and as Bowes argues later credit and coins.    

3. Money. Bowes offers a great overview of the ubiquity of money and credit in the Roman world. She begins by reminding everyone that Romans used coins even for small transactions and that small issues — in bronze — were ubiquitous in urban and rural areas. She then expands this to discuss the way in which coins complemented other kinds of payments to allow the 90% to get by. Of particular interest is Bowes’s discussion of credit. Based largely on papyrus records from Egypt she demonstrates how even people of very modest means used credit to support not only their need for sustenance, but also consumer goods. What was remarkable is that many of the creditors were not of much greater social or economic standing than the debtors.

That all said, I do wonder whether there was a market for debt. It was interesting that there didn’t seem to be much of a concern (or at least a particularly prominent concern in the limited sources available) for repayment. It might be because these debts were sold on detaching socially the creditor from the debtor. 

4. Roman Bodies. The survey of Roman bodies based on bioarchaeological analysis is a nice survey that emphasizes as much what we don’t know about the health of ancient Romans as what we do know. She demonstrated that many earlier efforts to use bodies to understand Roman health overstated the links between certain skeletal traits and work. In the end, it seems simpler and more accurate (if not more precise) to say that most Romans used their bodies as tools and their bones preserve the signs of labor. Bowes does offer more precise observations from her dataset. For example, she concludes that Romans in cities had greater exposure to childhood diseases and higher childhood mortality, and this produced a more robust adult population. She also demonstrated the variation in diet between rural and urban dwellers with urbanites eating more meat and fish consumption being less tied to location as wealth. 

5. Seasons and Families. One thing that I would have loved to understand better is the seasonal variation in the economy. There were glimpses: references to the hungry time (the late winter and early spring months before the harvest), seasonal impacts of malaria on mortality, and such things. One wonders, however, whether there is more here in terms of borrowing (and lending), cash on hand, and times to speculate or scrimp. 

At times I also lost track of labor in Bowes’s book particularly at the scale of the family unit. Again there were glimpses: children whose parents gave them as indentured servants when they were very young. For some reason, I assumed that most families kept their labor closer to home and this meant changing quantities (and qualities of labor) over time. I also became curious about the elderly and how and whether they helped families in the 90% survive. Perhaps these things are so well-known (or that they follow such a predictable course) that they do not require study.

These issues are more about what the book is not rather than what the book is, and in that way, they’re a bit unfair. The book is good and worth reading. Check it out. 

Thanksgiving Liveblog: Books, Music, and Turkey!

Good morning and welcome to my Thanksgiving liveblog. Last year and in 2021 I live blogged my Thanksgiving morning. Not quite a tradition, but two point make a line and three points make a triangle. Or something.

6:30 AM

I have coffee, a handful of almonds, the stereo is warming up, and I have a paper copy of Kim Bowes’s Surviving Rome: The Economy Lives of the Ninety Percent (2025).

It’s a brisk 20° outside and I’ll start the coals and finish preparing the smoker in a few minutes. The goal is to get the turkey on about 8:00 am for dinner around 2 pm or 3 pm.

7:15 AM

Coals are on and Surviving Rome is open while I listen to the opening tracks of Larry Young on Blue Note (playlist, but based on the 1991 box set). The first tracks are Young and Grant Green from his 1964 Talkin’ About. Green and Young have very solid rapport with Young being more adventurous and Green, well, doing Grant Green things.

Surviving Rome starts as one might expect. New interest in the 90% bolstered by archaeology, non-literary texts, new ways of thinking about ancient economic life (and labor), and hat tips to precarity, the first global economy, and Sir Moses Finley. Good stuff so far.  

Now, I better check those coals.

7:45 AM

Bowes is talking about how to categories the laboring “poor” or the 90% of the Roman world with an appropriate reference to E.P. Thompson’s Making of the English Working Class.  

Grant Green and Larry Young are playing “I’m an Old Cowhand” and the coals are holding at 225° which is as good as place as any to start smoking.

7:50 AM

The turkey is on and Sam Rivers is playing with Larry Young and Grant Green on Into Somethin’ (1964). So good!

8:15 AM

The turkey is holding steady at 225° and I’ve made it through the Surviving Rome introduction. Bowes tells us a good bit about what this book will not to do: appeal to Marxist theories, macro-economic studies, conventional categories (e.g. class, the poor, labor, et c.), concepts such as premodern or subsistence, histories of capital (see Piketty), UN Model Life Tables, or comparisons with ethnographic examples (beyond allusions to modern America and her neighbors in Philadelphia).

The book is leaning into the very contemporary concept of precarity to describe the live of the 90% in Rome. The problem isn’t so much having enough food as being able to save. 

8:50 AM

I’m close to hitting the turkey with the first pile of wood chips to get the smoking started. I’ll probably do two rounds of apple wood smoke at around 9 am and around 10 am (with the latter being mostly performative as I’m not sure how much smoke the turkey will take on 2 hours into cooking).

Surviving Rome is getting interesting. The first chapter makes clear Bowes’s commitment to understanding Roman economic life through practice, particularly the “cognitive context” for Roman numeracy. Of particular interest (no pun intended) are the various accounting documents on ostraca, papyrus, inscriptions, and graffiti. I have often wondered how graffiti accounting worked. It was not that uncommon to find scratched lists, quantities, and prices on walls (even in 5th and 6th century churches!), but commonly in places where commerce too place. Once the graffito was made, what prevented someone from manipulating it? How was it erased or marked when accounts were closed? How did these things function? An ostraca could be thrown down a well or papyrus torn up, but accounting records scratched into the wall of a building seemed more public and persistent and not the kind of ephemeral accounting documents one might expect from myriad small scale transactions.

One thing I admire about Bowes’s writing is her use of concluding sentences in her paragraphs. She almost always reiterates the main point of the paragraph in clear language in the last sentence. In fact, these sentences are so sharp and clear that they help carry the book along and make it much more readable.

Larry Young is back with Grant Green on Street of Dreams (1964) with Bobby Hutcherson on vibes. It’s good and easy and spacious:

9:30 AM

I’ve put on some coals for the fire just to keep things going should the temperatures lag a bit. So far, we’re holding steady over 200° and the turkey has pushed past 115°. There tends to be a little lull at 150° and it’s important to keep the heat on to keep it from stalling too long and drying out.

Bowes’s book is getting into the nitty-gritty of Roman account reasoning. There’s a lot in the first chapter, but one point that’s pretty great is that some Romans learned certain accounting ideas in the Roman army where soldiers bought their provisions against their pay on a regular basis. When veterans mustered out and returned to their communities they brought their accounting methods with them and this probably led to the propagation of some form of debts and income in Roman rural society among the 90%.

She also probably answered my question about graffito. It is perhaps their permanence that made this a useful methods. Once a debt was settled, there was a record of what was purchases, how much it cost, and how much was paid. Scratching it into a wall would have marked the transaction settled. 

Grant Green and Larry Young are together once more on Green’s I Want to Hold You Hand (1966). It’s unapologetically pop-y, but not unsophisticated with Young and Green trading gestures and solos. It’s just the kind of relaxed music that makes Thanksgiving morning feel right and cosy. 

10:10 AM

The turkey feels a bit ahead of schedule (but I suppose this is better than late) with internal temperatures in the 140° already. I figure two more hours should do it.

I managed to get through the first chapter of Bowes’s book. I very much appreciate her emphasis on practice and found many points of contact between her work and some things that I occasionally think about. For example, she noted how Egyptian contract even between non-citizens often looked to the state for enforcement. This is despite the fact the Roman courts were not particularly “kind to non-citizens.” That said, they still found that Roman courts were places where appeals could be heard and adjudicated fairly. This reminds me of some of the arguments that Anthony Kaldellis made for the legitimacy of the Roman state being grounded in popular expectations that Roman officials (up to and including the emperor) behaved in fair, consistent, and magnanimous ways. 

I’m onto the heart of Larry Young’s discography right now and listening to his masterpiece Unity (1966). Woody Shaw’s trumpet is great and Young’s playing is adventurous and compelling. I love this album.

Finally, I have the Richmond – Furman basketball game in the background which is on ESPN2. Sort of a scrappy start for my Spiders who really should take care of Furman and keep their perfect record unscathed. 

11:15 AM

We’re getting there. The Spiders are being out Princeton-ed by Furman which is profoundly annoying, but I guess what happens sometimes. Evidently the Mighty Spiders have no plan when driven toward the baseline other than to turn the ball over.

The music continues to roll and the reading has slowed to a holiday crawl. 

The turkey is sitting at 155° and some extra coals should nudge it along to completion. 

Noon

The Spiders have somehow pulled within 3 with 2:00 left to place in a bit of a Thanksgiving miracle! Suddenly they are showing a new level of defensive tenacity!

Along similar lines, the turkey seems done in slightly over 4 hours. This is record for us and is a bit baffling to be honest as the smoker temperatures didn’t get above 225° for most of the morning. 

A 1 pm meal is a bit early even by our standards, but it gives us plenty of time to have a turkey lunch and dinner! 

Thanks for hanging out with me this morning and I hope you all (who observe) have a happy Thanksgiving.

Gobble, gobble.

Two for Tuesday: The Roman and Late Roman Economy

A couple weeks ago, I made the rookie mistake of reading a pair of intriguing articles on the Roman and Late Roman economy and then setting them aside before I took notes on them. I think I had planned on blogging about both pieces but then travel, mid-semester deadlines, and life got in the way.

Anyway, this morning, I’m catching up and offering a few notes on two recent articles on the Roman economy.

Article the First

I tend to pay attention to Peter Sarris’s work partly because he has become an important voice in the ongoing conversation about the impact of the Justinianic plague, but also because he recognizes that his interest in the rural and peasant economy is an interest in the ancient economy more broadly. His recent article “Peasants and Economic Agency in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages: A Byzantine Perspective” in Studia Historica. Historia Medieval 43(2), 2025, pp. 49-60 uses Chris Wickham’s monumental work Framing the Early Middle Ages as a point of departure for a brief and summative reconsideration of the Late Roman/Early Byzantine (e.g. 6th century) economy.

Sarris argues that peasant life showed remarkable continuity even in areas impacted by various invasions and conquests in the Late Roman West. He suggests that the collapse in the distinction between “free” labor (or at least labor bound only to the economic relationship between landlords and peasants) and slave labor reflected a commitment by both Justinian and Germanic rulers to stabilize the rural economy. This reflects larger concerns in the East as well where the Emperor consistently promulgated legislation seeking to bind peasants to their land and to prevent the abandonment of rural properties.

Sarris suggests that the arrival of the bubonic plague in 6th century afforded peasants greater leverage in asserting their (relative) freedom and rolling back aristocratic efforts to bind them to the land or to proprietors. Sarris notes the growing evidence for labor shortages and peasant autonomy in the aftermath of the plague and as late as the 8th century. Sarris, who believes the plague had a lasting and significant impact on the Late Roman and Early Medieval economy, attributed persistent evidence for peasant autonomy and agency into the Early Middle Ages as evidence for the continued disruptions produced by the plagues recurrence in the 7th and 8th centuries.

Article the Second

I also enjoyed Paulina Komar’s recent piece in the European Journal of Archaeology, “Economic Change in the Mediterranean between the Principate and Late Antiquity.” Komar conducts a relatively (for Mediterranean archaeology) large scale analysis of the distribution and date of amphora from various sites across the Mediterranean. She argues that the distribution of amphora during the Roman period reflects the play of an integrated, Mediterranean wide market, whereas the distribution of amphora during the Late Roman period suggests far more local networks of trade. She made these arguments by using the ORBIS Mediterranean travel cost model to compare the distance that various amphora travelled in each assemblage. 

What drew this to my attention was her use of an assemblage of amphora from Paphos.  She noted that over 25% of amphora from the Roman period came from sites of two weeks or greater distance from the city (e.g. Carthage, Naples, Seville, Vienna). During the Late Roman period (or at least the 3rd century) this number drops to less than 4%. The latter reflects a massive increase in Levantine amphora (from 4.5% in the Roman period assemblage to over 20% in the 3rd century assemblage).

The article deserved more attention than I am offering it here, but it is striking that the percentages present at Paphos find parallels elsewhere in the Mediterranean in both the Roman and Late Roman period. 

Teaching Thursday: Roman History

Just a quick post today since I’m on the road.

I’ve been thinking a good bit about my Roman History course which I’ll offer this spring. There are three new Roman History books in the wind these days that are getting some buzz on my “socials.” I’ve not read any of these books, but they’re due at my house by the time I get back from Spain.

First is Ed Watts’s big new book The Romans (Basic Books 2025) which presumably is a companion volume to Roderick Beatons, The Greeks (2021). Unlike Beaton’s The Greeks, Watts’s book only goes through the 5th century AD. It is still 700+ pages and probably too long to use productively in a Roman history class, but it feels like a good bonus book to use in the future. 

Next is Kim Bowes’s Surviving Rome: The Economic Lives of the Ninety Percent (2025). Like Watts’s, Bowes’s book is a bit too long to productive assign to a big picture Roman history class (and I might still be slightly inclined to assign Sarah Bonds’s book Strike: Labor, Unions, and Resistance in the Roman Empire (2025) if only for its length, but I have a couple months to give Bowes’s book a read. 

Finally, there’s Barry Strauss’s Jews vs. Rome (Simon & Schuster 2025) which has received as much buzz as one might imagine in the hands of its major publisher and in these days. It promises to be the most accessible book on the list and no one will easily doubt Strauss’s chops as an ancient historian. It feels like something that students could dig into as a way to get another perspective on both life in the provinces (or better hinterland) and the religious history of Rome. It could be a good counterpart to our discussion of Apuleius’s Metamorphosis.

These three books form quite a stack when places atop my interest in having at least some students read Ronald Syme’s Roman Revolution (1939) which I blogged about here. My students generally comment that I assign too much reading, but will sometimes also concede (begrudgingly and when looking for a letter of recommendation) that it is worth it. I don’t want to take this too far, however. I vividly remember in my first year teaching Greek History when my students approached me (with great [and in hindsight possibly affected] deference) and asked for less reading. It was a fair and reasonable request and I’d like to avoid that intervention in the future. 

Teaching Thursday: Roman History and Syme’s The Roman Revolution

Readers of this blog know that I have a mild obsession with Ronald Syme’s 1939 masterpiece, The Roman Revolution. My interest is as much as his extraordinary style as his intriguing analysis. 

There is, of course, also the chilling resonance of his volume in the contemporary world. 

Some of this might account for the continued interest in The Roman Revolution and Ronald Syme himself over the past 20 years. Of particular note are Christopher Pelling’s landmark article “Rhetoric of the Roman Revolution” Syllecta Classica 26.1 (2015) and just this year Federico Santangelo and Eugenia Vitello’s “The Politics of Syme’s Revolution” Revista de Historiografía 40 (2025). It would be worth adding Anthony Birley’s Select Correspondence of Ronald Syme, 1927–1939 (2020). It would be interesting to read Syme against the work of Arnaldo Momigliano especially through the lens of Oswyn Murray’s The Muse of History: The Ancient Greeks from the Enlightenment to the Present (2024).

This would be a lot for a 300 level course at my institution. Moreover, my current model for teaching Roman History is an expansive one that stretched from the beginning of the Late Republic to the Seventh Century. There simply isn’t room to give this book its due.

This nudged me to consider another possibility. What if I created a one-credit reading course focused on The Roman Revolution. The book has 33 chapter so that would mean we’d have to read and discuss 2 per week. Since the class would only be one credit, we wouldn’t need to meet more than a hour a per week and the students could use the book as the basis for their book review in Roman History (allowing them to kill two birds with one stone).

The two questions are, of course, would any student be interested in doing this and would it fit into their schedule? Unfortunately, I teach a class immediately after my Roman History course (and it’s on the other side of campus!), so the easy offer to stay around for another hour isn’t there. I could, of course, run the class from 5-6 pm which is pretty unappealing for most students (and, cough, me) or hold it between 7-8 am on Thursday morning (this was when we read Latin last year).

The second question is whether the students would take it seriously enough to get something out of a class like this. My point isn’t just would they understand Syme, but would they see how Syme has relevance in our contemporary situation.