For the Byzantinist and ancient historian C., Greek dialoguing only really begins where for the classicist S. Goldhill (ed., The End of Dialogue in Antiquity [2009]) it finishes. The three lectures that she delivered for the 2011 Margarete-Häcker-Vorlesung in Heidelberg (published also in English as Dialoguing in Late Antiquity [2014], with a conclusion pointing forward to the Byzantine period) are a riposte to his provocative thesis that under the Christian Empire dialoguing almost completely disappeared: the model for Goldhill's argument (pp. 6–7) was the ‘open-ended’ Socratic dialogue that he identifies with freedom and democracy, and considers to have been absent from Christian debate. C.'s question, ‘Could Christians pursue a dialogue?’ (p. 27) – in particular when they were not engaging in a genuine discussion but aimed merely to emerge victorious – is the basic theme of her book. Her conclusion is that Christians did not ‘refuse’ to engage in dialogue: that the long and neglected history of dialogue in fact enjoyed a renaissance in Byzantium from the fifth century to the end of the empire (p. 99).
This assertion prompted a stimulating research controversy that points to the need for precise definition and systematic exploration of the genre. Goldhill's collection had brought together under the generic designation of dialogue a succession of highlights ranging from very early disparate examples from Thucydides, Plato and Cicero to late sympotic literature, the Church Fathers and the Talmud. With good reason, C. calls for analysis of all Christian dialogues. In Chapter 1 she deploys the rich repertoire of surviving Christian dialogue texts of Late Antiquity, the better to demonstrate the central role played by Greek literature – in both senses, the genre and genuine exchanging of ideas – from Justin's early second-century dialogue with Trypho the Jew to the sixth-century debates at the Sassanid court. With K. Hopkins she brings Late Antiquity vividly to life for the reader as ‘a world full of conversations’ (Chapter 2) that embraces the entire spectrum of the ‘debate culture’ up until the sixth century, including church council and synod debates. Topics covered include the recent excavations of 20 auditoria on the Kom el-Dikka site, evidence of the importance of sixth-century Alexandria as an educational centre (p. 51), and the encouragement of public debate by the emperor Justinian and his Sassanid rival, Chosroes I (pp. 56–8).
The reader following C.'s conducted tour of neglected, if not unpublished, Byzantine dialogues and debates is grateful to have the genre exemplified by three representative dialogues from different periods (Chapter 3): Methodius’ early fourth-century Symposium, with a dialogue in which chastity replaces Platonic eros; Theodoret's Eranistes (c. 447), read by C. as an internal Christian debate prompted by the threat of exclusion and removal from office (pp. 82–3); and an anonymous tenth-century dialogue from the Gregentius dossier, set in the sixth century, which metamorphoses into the origin myth (aition) of Christianisation of the Yemen. It was the dialogue's combination of consistency and flexibility that ensured its popularity as a literary form, and its longevity (p. 96).
Hybridity, or the genre's ‘cautious, transformative attitude’ (J. König, in Goldhill pp. 98, 102–13), characterises the Symposium of Methodius (pp. 70–81), modelled on Plato's Symposium, the parable of the wise virgins in Matt. 25:10 and the martyrdom of Thekla. In a competition between ten virgins eulogising chastity, Thekla emerges as victor, intoning a hymn to Christ and his Bride, the virginal Church, while the allegory of Chastity is enthroned in Heaven. In complete contrast, Theodoret presents three dialogues between himself as the orthodox and a ‘beggar’ intended to represent Monophysitism or its exponent Eutyches, who was alleged to have ‘scraped together’ his views from remnants of earlier heresies. All three dialogues end with a florilegium, which contain a total of 238 patristic testimonies from 88 works. C. goes against the communis opinio in considering this display of theological erudition a ‘serious attempt at rapprochement’ on the part of the author intended to assure his position. This evidently failed: two years later the so-called Robber Synod deposed Theodoret as bishop and reinstated Eutyches. The enigmatic dialogue between Gregentios, bishop of Taphar, and a learned Jew named Herban begins by listing Christian arguments against Judaism in the tradition of the early anti-Jewish dialogues, then develops into a hagiographic epiphany of Christ that brings about the conversion of the Jews in Himyar.
In her conclusion C. emphasises that Christian dialogues always served a purpose: they played an important role in moulding opinion, particularly during religious controversies and crises. She sees the lectures as prolegomenon to a more extensive study. Such a project would involve reflection on a range of inter-related issues: what is meant by ‘dialogue’ with reference to individual authors and periods; where the dividing lines with dialectics and didactics are to be drawn; what role is played by intertextuality, rhetorical strategies and hybrid forms; and what constitutes the difference between its literary and its oral manifestation and the respective transmission patterns (e.g. the role of church councils and synods). Gratitude is due to Andrea Jördens for ensuring that scholars outside the English-speaking world are acquainted with this future research field. The only criticism of the otherwise meticulously edited German translation is that Therese Fuhrer's name is consistently spelt Führer.
Neither the form of dialogue used alongside monologue as a constitutive element of drama nor the form used in narrative for vividness at highpoints of action and for indirect revelation of character can match the significance of the third form, ‘philosophical dialogue’, as a vehicle for Christian debate. A literary art form in its own right, the philosophical dialogue preserved the purported objectivity of the author by having the subject of discussion illuminated from different sides by the dialogue partners and proceeding via an exchange of views to clearer conceptual understanding and recognition of what is ‘right’. A representative example is the praise from Christian intellectuals like Basilios of Caesarea for Plato's special genius among composers of dialogue (pp. 17–18). And yet with this very definition, which in my view applies equally to the Platonic dialogues and their values and norms, the crucial issue of the controversy is rendered obsolete.
In a book published at the same time, Between Pagan and Christian (2014), C.P. Jones introduced a new perspective on the fourth- to fifth/sixth-century era by exploring the ways ‘in which Christianity and paganism interpenetrate’ (p. 7). He came to the conclusion that the debate between pagans and Christians finally ended, by reason of the shared educational background, in a Christian victory ‘by absorption rather than by conquest’ (p. 89). Cicero, who ensured that the dialectic of in utramque partem disserere (Rep. 4.5) bore fruit in the dialogue culture of the philosophical and rhetorical writings and works of constitutional theory circulated in Rome, had emphasised that the choice of this method relied on care being taken not to endorse any of his theses prematurely or over-confidently as valid (Inv. 2.9–10). Again, late-antique dialogues and public staging of disputations with the Manichaeans or Donatists are not mere authoritarian pronouncements denying the diversity of interpretation, for they prove to be a key factor in inter-religious communication (p. 30) and testify to the efforts made to counter the arguments of the dissenters on an intellectual level, whether these be pagans, philosophers or Jews – according to P. Van Nuffelen (and D. Engels [edd.], Religion and Competition in Antiquity [2014], pp. 149–72) the most proper way to deal with religious pluralism. We are led by the semantics of our modern-day usage to regard dialogue between two parties not as a dispute but as a mutual approach in hope of consensus (pp. 68, 99). The controversy involving Goldhill and C., expanded in scope by Jones’ new angle, has refocused attention on long-forgotten research lacunae capable of resolution by recourse to a systematic combing of all late-antique texts – basis and stimulus enough for a ‘scholarly dialogue’. Entire genres such as dialogue and epistolography need to be re-examined for significant patterns linking them to the dynamically evolving knowledge culture of Antiquity, and will ultimately need to be redefined.
C. begins her book by quoting the great Byzantinist Steven Runciman: Amongst the unhappy delusions of mankind is the belief that a dispute can be settled by a debate. She then refutes his verdict with her own ‘dispute’.
