In this new study of myth and archaeology, Anthony Adolph provides a readable guide to the Trojan Prince and Roman ancestor, Aeneas. He even includes handy maps at the start for the relevant locations and journeys. Furthermore, he is happy to use historical novels, such as Ursula Gunn’s Lavinia, to make the ancient sources more engaging. Perhaps advanced students, toiling through the notoriously dense Ancient Greek in the Homeric hymns, will now find themselves seduced.
His early chapters feel very much like a documentary in writing. They flow from the Homeric Hymns to tantalising references in the Iliad to Aeneas’ childhood, supporting the latter with archaeological speculation from the twentieth century and his own visits. He links Aphrodite to local Cybele, thus comparing possible alternative fertility–Earth goddesses. Furthermore, he asserts that the crippling of Anchises has parallels in the Mesopotamian myth of Dumuzi; that surviving hymns suggest the herdsman’s sex with Aphrodite an echo of a possible fertility ritual, annually re-enacted. He is cautious about linking this assertion to Anchises’ spirit appearing as a snake in Aeneid book 5, showing his critical handling of different sources. He has a ‘magnetic’ chapter, if you will excuse the pun, on lodestones which may be evidence that Buyuk in Dardania was believed to be the home of just such a mother goddess, as in Samothrace. He then fits this theory into the conflicting myths about where Aeneas’ ancestor Dardanus was born, whether in Asia Minor or Samothrace, both locations of mother-goddess worship. He also manages to weave in the Aeneid book 8 tale of Anchises visiting his sister at Salamis with archaeological evidence there. Certainly, he builds up a very vivid picture of Bronze Age genealogical and trading networks. Thereafter, he brings the Iliad to life with comparisons to Ancient Greek vases, visualising Aeneas’ scenes in Homer.
He treats Virgil as a historian like Strabo and Dionysius of Halicarnassus when tracing Aeneas’ subsequent journey, adding as well as his own observations of places on Aeneas’ journey. He also brings in other writers when exploring conflicting accounts of where exactly Aeneas landed in Italy. This approach does help us to appreciate this unique feature of the Aeneid, almost an antiquarian monograph in dactylic hexameter. He is also good at bringing out the groundbreaking nature of Aeneid Book 6 and outlines the complicated philosophy clearly, basing it on explanation of Orphic ideas. From his studies in Aeneid books 7–12, he makes good choices of scholars to defend his characterisation of Aeneas as a good guy. Later, he uses Karl Galinksy extensively to trace how Aeneas became part of Roman cultural identity.
However, he admits that he comes to the subject from a contemporary angle, comparing Brexiteers to ancient peoples who wanted to believe in epic heroes. One wonders what similarities he sees exactly, because he does not fully explain this assertion. Furthermore, this eagerness to compare ancient and modern ways of thinking distracts from his main engagement with the topic of where the Aeneas myth originated; for example, he describes Achilles’ protests against the tyrannical leader Agamemnon as ‘the most monumental sulk in Western literature’, without delving into Achilles’ values of timé (honour) and Kleos (glorious fame), which are such an interesting contrast to Aeneas’ qualities in ancient poetry, both Homer’s and Virgil’s. Furthermore, it does not take expertise in theology to make a reader question his comparison of Aphrodite to the Virgin Mary in Christianity, a comparison which distracts from his main point about Aeneas and Augustus.
Furthermore, the author potentially misuses cultural terms. For example, he quotes from Quintus Smyrnaeus’ The Fall of Troy (written in 300s AD) where Aeneas says ‘it is better to die in the glory of battle than starve agonisingly within these walls’; Adolph pronounces these sentiments to be Stoic, ignoring the idea of Kleos and omitting the contrast to Aeneid book 9, where Aeneas does in fact demonstrate the principle of praecipere (foresight), when he instructs his Trojans to stay in their camp. To his credit, the author does use the term correctly when analysing Aeneas’ reaction to Aeolus’ storm. However, he seemingly makes a mistake when he calls Aeneas’ journey a nostos, apparently not realising that this word refers to a return home.
Nevertheless, overall, the readability of the book would make it very suitable for A level Classical Civilisation ‘World of the Hero’ students (the political bias could be debated in class and assertions, such as Aphrodite having ‘a genuine maternal love for Aeneas’, would be easy for students to engage with critically). Students studying the Iliad option for Homer would get the most out of Part 1, whilst all students looking at the Aeneid might learn from reading Part 2. Furthermore, the discussion about the developing Roman awareness of Aeneas would be useful to extend learning for those studying the module ‘Imperial age’, to further understand the place of the hero in Augustan publicity. The personal approach has academic weaknesses, but it is an entertaining and enlightening contribution to study of Aeneas.
Open access
