This engaging and densely argued monograph offers a compelling rereading of the work of Cornelius Nepos as the product of the Triumviral period and an integral part of the cultural discussion that produced the Principate. L. begins with an expeditious introduction that not only outlines the argument to be developed over seven chapters, but also sets forth the guiding ideas (the existence of scholarly projection, the ‘principle of charity’) and the basic approaches (contextualisation, observation of the interaction between cultural production and political power, using Nepos to explain Nepos) informing the monograph.
The first three chapters present introductory material. Solidly researched and cogently argued, they make an excellent case for a reappreciation and an empathetic reading of Nepos’ work. Attention is given to the reception of Nepos’ work from contemporary readers until the early nineteenth century (Chapter 1), the alleged intellectual shortcomings of Nepos (Chapter 2) and the biographer's relationship to his sources (Chapter 3). Exposing the unrealistic expectations of modern readers trained in the tradition of Altertumswissenschaft, L. makes a persuasive case for evaluating Nepos according to the standards of his time and the work of his peers. This postmodern philological approach to the author and his work's reception allows for a more balanced estimate. What emerges is work that was state-of-the-art at the close of the Republic and comparable in many ways to the works of Caesar (in terms of language) and Varro (as regards content and erudition). The writings of Nepos were an integral part of the project of Roman appropriation of Hellenic culture. Arguably stimulating such competitors as the historical works of Atticus and Velleius Paterculus, the work responded to an extensive desire for a Roman Fürstenspiegel inspired by Greek models and for that reason proved highly successful in antiquity. What is intriguing, and probably without an answer, is its complete disappearance for six centuries between Priscian and the creation of the archetype that lies behind our surviving manuscript tradition (c. 550–1150).
The next two chapters focus on the author and his contemporaries, and offer a survey of the social and cultural context for Nepos’ work. The review of Nepos’ relationship with his peers Catullus, Cicero and Atticus and the reflection on Nepos’ readership reveal an author who was one of the period's leading protagonists in the Roman appropropriation of Hellenic culture (Chapter 4). Complementing this, an extended reading of the fragments of Nepos shows how his concerns with material culture and contemporary morals were rooted within an ongoing, ideologically charged discourse (Chapter 5). L. makes a convincing case that Nepos was well known and esteemed by Catullus, Cicero and Atticus, and complements it with the argument that Nepos was no less dynamic and ambitious in terms of literary production than these leading exponents of culture in the late Republic. The Lives of Nepos, for instance, find their analogue in philosophical dialogues of Cicero. However, as L. goes on to argue, Nepos was a self-reflective eyewitness to history and therefore vocal about the decadence of contemporary society. Like Atticus, Varro and Sallust, Nepos as a critic of contemporary material culture participated in the rediscovery of Cato the Elder and the cultivation of a new ‘Archaic’ lifestyle. Unfortunately, the chronology of these authors’ (largely) lost works is uncertain, and the precise relations between them are therefore in doubt. Nonetheless, L. makes a strong case for viewing Nepos as a protagonist in this cultural revolution.
The following two chapters offer a detailed reading of the lives as evidence both for Nepos’ political stance regarding the period in which he wrote (Chapter 6) and for the influence that his work exerted upon the emerging ideology of the Augustan principate (Chapter 7). Where prior generations of philologists and historians have tended to perceive inferior, uninspiring, derivative history, L. manages to excavate the text and to recover convincingly material that bespeaks an optimate stance and presages the successful rhetoric of Augustus as victor and reconciliator of the nation. Building upon the findings of J. Geiger, C. Dionisotti and R. Stem (in particular), L. successfully reinserts the Lives within their Triumviral milieu so that they reclaim their rightful place on the continuum stretching from the epigrams of Varro and Atticus to the tituli of the Forum Augustum. Aspects such as the anti-tyrannical spirit that infuses Nepos’ biographies (e.g. Nep. Ag. 4.2; pp. 146, 181–2) are well brought out in detail and at length. So, too, are aspects such as the virtue of mercy (clementia) that unites Nepos’ protagonists (e.g. Nep. Thras. 2.6 and 3.2–3; pp. 232–3) with Augustus and the successful transition to peace after the chaos of the Triumviral years. Nepos is not so crude as to name names and could hardly divine the text of the Res gestae Divi Augusti that was to be composed decades after his own death, but his work clearly belongs to the 40s and 30s bce and not only reflects critical thought regarding that period, but also manifestly contributed to the discussion as to how best to achieve peace after the victory in civil war.
A final chapter (Chapter 8) offers concluding thoughts regarding Nepos, his work and that work's relationship to the milieu of its composition. Reaffirming the need for a paradigm shift, L. invites readers to think of Nepos as akin to Homer, an oral performer at the cusp of a literary revolution. Then, turning back to the text, he reviews the vocabulary of leadership and the use of Roman terms for Hellenic realities, reminding readers of the context of Nepos’ act of cultural translation. In closing, L. restates what he sees as the role of Nepos in articulating an imperatorial ideology, making a convincing case for considering Nepos ‘one of the cultural blacksmiths at the Triumviral forge’ (p. 241).
The quality of the production of this volume is high, in line with its contents. However, there is an unfortunate chronological blunder at the outset. The lifespan of Cornelius Nepos is given as ‘ca. 100–27 bce’ (p. 1), whereas L. later indicates that the consensus of c. 110 is ‘reasonable’ (p. 130; cf. L. [2019], pp. 87, 88). More significantly, from the perspective of the historian of ancient Rome, there are moments when one wishes that L. had sought to go further. So, for instance, L. rightly notes the importance of the Atticus (p. 7), but fails to use it for some obvious points that would strengthen his case: how one talks about conflicts speaks volumes about an individual's political stance, and the expression Caesarianum civile bellum (Nep. Att. 7.1) shows that Nepos felt that Caesar was responsible for that conflict. Or, to cite another instance, Nepos attests that it was customary for a reading to accompany meals in Atticus’ house (Nep. Att. 14.1), a convention that is surely not irrelevant to the brevity and clarity of the biographies that Nepos composed. Nepos was arguably the Athenaeus of his generation, and there is no need to summon the admittedly attractive image of packed theatres (T.P. Wiseman, The Roman Audience [2015]) in order to resolve the question of who read Nepos’ work, when and where.