There has been lately a resurgence of historical biographies of the ‘great Greeks of the past’ (M. Simonton, Polis 35 [2018]). But S.’s volume aims to tell a life story of Alcibiades somewhat differently, in a novelised manner, presenting readers with a modern bios, from birth to death, or perhaps from rise to fall (together with his city; the ‘fall of Athens’ in the title pointing to the ominous decadence). Because of these goals, a fellow student of Classical Athens will encounter numerous problems when reading it as a guide to Alcibiades’ life. The fact that it has been published by an academic press suggests that it may be approached by some as a contribution to the scholarly debate. However, it is not an academic publication, a fact somewhat concealed by the tiny font too well known to academics and the inclusion of short endnotes and a general index, yet hinted at by its eye-catching chapter titles (‘Courting the Hydra’, ‘In a Paradise Garden’). But it is not a hasty overview either, as is clear from its attention to biographical detail and its intelligent discussion of history's unsolved enigmas. A reader trying to posit it within a genre might want to approach it as historical fiction written by a scholar-novelist. These traits seriously complicate the answer to a simple question: ‘who is this for?’, despite S. mentioning an elusive ‘general reader’ when explaining his reasons for not explaining any problems with the available sources (p. 6).
The book is conceived as a biographical study of one character, the (in)famous fifth-century public figure and sybarite Alcibiades. However, it is not a biography as we know it. Modern biographies, often written by professional or self-proclaimed journalists, are based on a critical reading of their characters’ lives and are told only after a meticulous cross-examination of all available testimonies. Nemesis may be rather seen as an ancient, Hellenistic type of biography, interested in the sensational plot and vivid narrative more than in a careful unpacking of the historical truth or historical plausibility. In this, S. follows his established Greek predecessor, Plutarch, incidentally his main source in the entire project, as evident in his notes and his narrative. Reviewing each of its numerous anecdotes and fables would indeed amount to reviewing the Greek author's sources and inaccuracies in the moralising biographical genre he favoured, a task already undertaken many times, apparently to little avail (D.A. Russell, G&R 13 [1966]; C. Pelling, JHS 99 & 100 [1979 & 1980]; T. Hägg, The Art of Biography in Antiquity [2012]). S. thus sometimes notes in passing, especially in endnotes (e.g. pp. 314 n. 16, 315 n. 22, 318 n. 63, 322 n. 48), that a scandalous story must be a fable, but he stills includes it in his narrative, often without a word of caution in the main text (some such stories on pp. 13, 26, 27, 28, 34, 39, 43 n. 63, 50, 58, 78). One would assume that a general reader needs a warning in such places no less than a fellow classicist. S/he will find neither a warning nor a note on subjects on which there is no consensus among historians, instead having to accept the all-encompassing, omniscient narrator's voice as the only available truth, as in a work of fiction but unlike in both modern biographies and history guides meant for the general public written by academics.
S. is aware of this fundamental weakness of his narrative and tries to explain it away in the introduction by noting that the reliability of his sources is problematic but he would not be troubled by such details (pp. 3 n. 4, 6, 299). The endnotes are helpful in identifying classical authors on which the narrative is based, but they provide very little critical discussion and only limited references to previous scholarship. At the same time the range of topics and research areas that S. tackled in preparing is genuinely impressive and rarely shows a skimming reading rather than conscious exclusion of material that does not fit his large-scale picture. In this he speaks like a true erudite, carefully noting the meanings of habits, names and possible – even if sometimes doubtful – references to Alcibiades in the entire Classical Athenian literature, together with details about Mediterranean politics, religion and geography. One may say that S.’s almost intimate relationship with the character he portrays in the pages of the book was as much a blessing in his multi-sensory, vivid narrative as it was a curse that did not allow him to disregard anything that might have made this nemesis of Greece even more extraordinary (cf. p. 367).
Some important but controversial presumptions are silently passed over rather than problematised. S. follows the debatable idea from Brunt's 1952 paper (P.A. Brunt, REG 65, 304–5) and suggests that Thucydides’ work was probably based on interviews with Alcibiades and followed his ‘spin’, which S. calls a ‘widely accepted’ view (p. 3), without further discussing this tenet or parts of Thucydides’ narrative, including Book 6, that do not present Alcibiades in a particularly favourable light. He does briefly discuss the shortcomings of Thucydides’, Aristophanes’, Plato's and Plutarch's portrayal of his protagonist (pp. 3–6), but this has little bearing on the method in subsequent chapters. A forte of the book is where it asks questions and offers a number of intelligent suppositions, without giving one answer (as it often does elsewhere), for instance when discussing the reasons behind the mutilation of Herms (p. 148). As with any such grandiose work, there are omissions, and so questions such as ancient Greek warfare (pp. 49, 93), written and oral culture (p. 29), music and musicians in Athens (p. 31, 37), impiety trials (pp. 26, 39–40), Alcmaeonids’ excesses (p. 13), the fifth-century ephebeia and the ephebic oath (pp. 41–2), Athenian family life (pp. 17, 26) or prerogatives of Athenian officials (p. 64: ‘tax collectors could cajole and threaten, accept fat bribes’) are based on anecdotes and misconceptions rather than recent research, even though the book was annotated by an ancient historian, P. Cartledge (p. 367). Minor typographic inconsistencies, such as Aristotle and [Aristotle] both listed as the author of the Ath. Pol. (p. 41 nn. 58, 60) or ‘greques’ for Fr. grecques (twice), are not frequent. In addition to the endnotes and the general index, the book offers helpful maps, a timeline and Alcibiades’ family tree, but it lacks indexes of sources and concepts, and does not list any bibliography outside of individual notes.
The book will come as a very pleasant read to anyone in the market for a para-historical novel. Throughout his life's story, Alcibiades is presented as a Protean figure, able to change both form and substance according to necessity, allowing himself to blend in everywhere he goes in the multitude of his travels. It almost reads like a film script, letting the reader imagine a cinematic Odyssey of Alcibiades, with adventures full of sex and violence, sudden dramatic reversals, oscillating between beauty and horror. Those curious about where its stories are coming from may very well turn to Plutarch's Lives. Those interested in a critical evaluation of such stories and the many problems the available sources pose may prefer to read P.J. Rhodes's recent book, which despite the similarly catchy title pays critical attention to historical evidence and explains it both to a fellow scholar and to a general reader (Alcibiades: Athenian Playboy, General and Traitor [2011]).
S. is known for his important work in popularising Classics through introductions, essays and translations, giving classical themes new life in popular culture. Nemesis will certainly do nothing less, even if it could have done something more.
