In his numerous books and articles E. Eyben maintained that the Romans identified youth as a period of ferocitas (‘hot-headedness’) and that the evidence suggests that it should be regarded as a period of moral, psychological, philosophical, mental and religious crisis. H.W. Pleket questioned the validity of Eyben's conclusion by drawing attention to inscriptions which showed that youngsters were active in society at an age when modern society would regard them as not yet fit to be assigned adult responsibilities. In a Ph.D. supervised by Pleket, Kleijwegt expanded on the epigraphic material and used a comparative framework to argue that youth was not a period of crisis in Antiquity. In this volume, which is dedicated to Eyben, L. and S. view adolescence/youth as a fixed stage in human development and argue that youngsters are biologically ‘programmed’ to engage in reckless, irresponsible and rebellious behaviour, ‘as this is part and parcel of the biological reality of being human’ (pp. 228; 231). Despite the occasional admission that Pleket and Kleijwegt have concluded something of value (p. 231), the main thrust of the book is to demonstrate that a youthful phase of life comparable to modern adolescence was present in the ancient world. Their arguments to sustain this position, however, are frequently flawed, self-contradictory and inconsistent. If there are strong reasons in favour of abandoning modern adolescence as an explanatory model L. and S. stay the course. If there is no reason to assume the presence of adolescence L. and S. will make a point of arguing that the possibility cannot be excluded.
Members of the ephebeia in the Hellenistic–Roman period range in age from thirteen to eighteen which makes it tempting to compare them to modern adolescents, and this is exactly what L. and S. push for, implicitly (p. 119) as well as explicitly (pp. 133–5). They offer corrections on previous discussions of the ephebeia (pp. 107–12: average age of admission; length of service; social status of the recruits) which are important for the history of the institution but without value for the history of youth: arguing that the average starting age was sixteen rather than fourteen does not make it less likely that ephebes thought and behaved as adults. What matters is whether their activities made them part of the public realm, and here L. and S. clearly concur with the scholarship which they seek to attack. They discuss (pp. 119–20) the involvement of the ephebes in parades and funeral processions, they point out (p. 120) that the ephebeia was ‘a city in miniature’, with its own assemblies, decrees and benefactions to prominent members of society, and conclude (p. 120) that ‘it prepared the boys for their eventual participation in civic life’. In their concluding remarks, however, L. and S. state (p. 135) that the ephebes ‘apparently’ did not perform ‘structurally significant tasks in society’. This is immediately followed by the comment that this may have instilled in them a sense of marginalisation and by speculation that this may have made them comparable to adolescents of today. L. and S. do not explain in what way the activities of the ephebes were not ‘structurally significant’ and they also do not clarify what ‘structurally significant tasks’ they have in mind which the ephebes did not undertake. By assuming that their activities did not take up the entire day they even suggest (p. 134) that in their free time the ephebes suffered from the same restlessness which, they believe, was so characteristic of youth. The main problem, as they realise (p. 135), is that there is no evidence to support such a scenario.
According to Eyben (pp. 144–5), Catullus, Tibullus, Propertius and Ovid criticised prevailing social norms, showed a distaste for public life and expressed a desire to create a better world, one without avarice and governed by new standards, ‘a world detached from that of the adults’. Eyben and his supporters, especially J. Christes, read the poetry as if it is based on lived experience and believe that the views expressed are comparable to those held by modern adolescents. L. and S. (p. 228) do the same thing by suggesting that the poetry reveals much about the psyche of the youngsters and by stating that society created ‘a space for experiencing a youth phase of life’ immediately before a comment on upper class poets (p. 230). L. and S. admit that these poets were a small group of elite men residing in Rome who were in their late twenties or early thirties (pp. 146–7), but they fail to do much more with this than ask the rhetorical question whether it is correct to identify criticism of society as an attitude associated with youth (pp. 147; 230).
The genre of elegy requires that love be recognised as superior to warfare and politics and it plays around with the position which these polar opposites occupy in Roman society. This does not mean that the poets are opponents of warfare and committed to building a society which is devoted to peace. Tibullus, for example, describes that he is held prisoner by a lovely girl (1.1.55–8) while realising at the same time that his patron Messalla needs war to bolster his reputation (1.1.53–4). He attacks war in 1.10.67–8, but in 2.1.33 he celebrates Messalla's military exploits in Aquitania in 31 b.c.e. Tibullus’ biography suggests that he may have been on this campaign with Messalla, an issue which has also been raised by scholars in connection with 1.7.9. Eyben and Christes have drawn attention to Catullus 68.15–20 as a programmatic statement on the ideology of a youthful stage. In these lines the poet reveals that after donning the toga pura he engaged in amorous adventures, an activity which he defines as play (multi satis lusi). Catullus turns something which is commonly associated with the period before the donning of the toga virilis into the dominant theme of the period immediately following it. This cannot be taken to imply that upon the donning of the toga virilis a young man would enter a period of idle frivolity and wasteful spending. Catullus’ verses suggest that it was exactly the opposite; otherwise, the intended shock effect would have been minimal. Catullus did not withdraw from public life either. His selection, together with his fellow-poet Cinna, as an official companion of Gaius Memmius during the latter's spell as governor of Bithynia (from the spring of 57 to the spring of 56) is the result of his ability to tap into a network. In conclusion, the idea that these poets criticise society should be nuanced, while the notion that their poetry is based on lived experience and proof of the existence of ‘a youth phase of life’ should be rejected.
Finally, some minor quibbles. For their interpretation of youth as a biological category L. and S. draw heavily on the work by Michiel Westenberg (pp. 1–2; 228), Professor of Developmental and Educational Psychology at Leiden University, who argues that the teenage brain will only become fully developed around the age of 24. On one occasion they suggest that biology is not an absolute determinant (p. 136), but throughout the book they do not discuss scholars who have argued that the teenage brain as such does not exist (P. Graham, The End of Adolescence [2004]; R. Epstein, The Case against Adolescence: Rediscovering the Adult in Every Teen [2007]). L. and S.'s discussion of M. Mead's research on Samoa (pp. 3–7) ends with a summary of D. Freeman's controversial book Margaret Mead and Samoa: the Making and Unmaking of an Anthropological Myth (1983) and concludes that ‘as was to be expected, Freeman's attack was in turn nuanced’ (p. 6), a statement which they substantiate by referring to two titles which had already appeared before Freeman's book. In fact, Freeman's views were not simply nuanced; they were annihilated. The Thrashing of Margaret Mead: Anatomy of an Anthropological Controversy (2009) by P. Shankman restored Mead's reputation as a scholar. Shankman's book was published in the same year in which L. and S. completed the manuscript (p. xiii), and not discussing it in their book must surely count as a serious omission.
