The books under review continue the trend of studies that explore, on the one hand, historical circumstances and the evolution of the urban fabric, and, on the other, the shifting narratives of their past and the cultural memory shared by their inhabitants. Footnote 1 In terms of chronological scope, De Giorgi’s Antioch on the Orontes and Magdalino’s monograph Roman Constantinople in Byzantine Perspective overlap only in late antiquity, where Antioch experienced its bloom and Constantinople was just establishing itself as a new imperial capital. What truly connects these works is the narrative of continuity and resilience.
The former offers a genuinely interdisciplinary approach and highlights topics that have rarely, if ever, been investigated for Antioch. Through various new perspectives it further supports the shift in discourse from a narrative of disasters and decline to one of resilience and transformation. Even the sheer numbers make this work impressive, with 266 plates, figures and tables (almost half in colour) and 30 chapters organised into five conceptual parts. The first section, ‘Beginnings’, opens with C. Saliou’s survey of literary and documentary sources, emphasising the narratives conveyed by their authors. S. Batiuk’s thorough introduction to the geology and geomorphology of the Amuq Plain and Antakya Graben provides a broad scientific underpinning for the persistent natural forces that, over the centuries, have worked for and against the city’s inhabitants. Revisiting Seleucid Antioch, B. Chrubasik argues that it surpassed other Seleucid royal cities and gained dominance even before the loss of territories and their capitals in the second century bce. His assertions of broad recognition of Antioch’s ascendancy are sometimes grounded in circumstantial or debatable evidence, for example, the Astronomical Diaries, which ‘never mentioned [Antioch] as a city of kingship’ (p. 36). He does not refer to K. Neumann’s book (Antioch in Syria [2021]), which could both support and nuance his view of the Antiochene mint’s significance. Therefore, it might be beneficial to read this chapter alongside K. Butcher’s in-depth yet descriptive analysis of typology and transformation in Antiochene coinage and the mint within the Hellenistic and Roman state. These chapters are separated by the text of E. García-Molina, who offers a re-evaluation of Hellenistic Seleucia Pieria as an object of research in its own right, outside Antiochene shadows. He sees Seleucia as a place of ‘a cross-cultural negotiation’ via its local and Macedonian inhabitants, and as a naval and business base that leverages the terrain and its resources.
G. Poccardi offers fresh insights into the Seleucid city’s physical foundations and expansion. He argues that it was probably established further north than traditionally assumed, and the construction of Antioch IV’s district should be situated on the slopes of Mount Staurin rather than Mount Silpios. To a degree, this presentation happens at the expense of the written material that would require a broader critical reflection on its credibility or at least references to some bibliography, but Poccardi nonetheless offers a good survey of the Hellenistic monuments in the city as known from written sources. E.M. Molacek examines the negotiation of Antiochene visual culture at the crossroads of Hellenic cultural formation and local identities, and convincingly shows that Greek elites under Roman rule continued to celebrate the Hellenistic past.
Part 2, ‘The Making of the Capital’, argues for Antioch’s establishment as the so-called capital of the Roman East. This aspect is first discussed by C.F. Noreña, who analyses Antioch’s role within the empire from the first century bce to the third century ce, using a few criteria: the permanent residence of the province’s governor, the imperial cult, vibrant civic culture and the city’s monumentalisation. In his view this ‘concentration of political authority, wealth and economic and cultural activity’ (p. 113) came into being because Antioch was transformed into a military and administrative headquarters, while also growing into the role of a commercial hub within the Afroeurasian trade network. Since no formal status of a provincial ‘capital’ existed, as Noreña admits, it remains somewhat unclear how to position Antioch in relation to other cities of this status, if we agree to maintain such a term. Similar questions are addressed later by P. Sarris for late antique Antioch.
Other chapters in this section have a strong archaeological and material focus. G. Brands and De Giorgi tell the story of urban transformation stirred by earthquakes, especially in 115 and 526–8 ce. Their analysis elucidates the realities and outcomes of ancient reconstructions and later excavations, as many monuments from imperial building programmes can leave little or no evidence. The impression of an undying construction site is further augmented by C. Brasse’s exploration of our current knowledge about the city walls. She demonstrates that three walls underwent six construction phases between the Hellenistic era and late antiquity, with three attributed to Justinian and one of uncertain identification. Surprisingly, she proves that the wall of Theodosius II lacks archaeological evidence, thus casting doubt on the reliability of the written sources.
M. Döring dedicates some attention to the stunning examples of Roman ‘waterbending’: six aqueducts, a kilometre-long flood channel curved in living rock, and numerous bridges and dams, with Justinian’s Iron Gate as a crowning example. Thanks to many supporting figures, this highly technical text can ultimately enhance our understanding of Roman hydrological engineering, which could both tame and exploit the abundant water resources. The latter is evident in the houses’ decor in Daphne, examined by E. Morvillez. Functioning as the Antiochene suburb, this area is particularly known for its gardens, water installations and mosaics decorating local houses. Based on limited archaeological data, Morvillez notes the rapid change in the urban landscape between the third and the fourth centuries from the dense city-like quarters to a brand-new redesigned form and decor in late antiquity, which overall reflects the ‘social changes … and concentration of power in the hands of the elite’ (p. 204). The changing trends in mosaic iconography outlined by Morvillez are the main subject of N.L. Berlin and A.C. Miranda’s multifaceted analysis. They approach the Antiochene mosaics in an interpretative and phenomenological manner, treating them as constitutive elements of space that mirror their owners’ identities and the social dynamics of the Antiochene elite. The following chapter is A.M. Stahl’s discussion of Antiochene coinage from Diocletian to the mint’s closure in 610 ce. His contribution consists of three parts: an overview of the imperial denomination reforms; a comparison of the geographical circulation of Antiochene and Constantinopolitan coins; and the distribution of coins within the Antiochene urban territory. As Stahl points out, the latter confirms the site’s continuous habitation, but he otherwise leaves data open to interpretation.
As the book’s title suggests, society is the book’s other primary focus. M. Casella explores the status and activities of women in the fourth century, providing a snapshot of change in the perception of female roles in private and social life. Although it must necessarily be a view limited to the high social strata reflected in men’s writings, Casella focuses, for example, on women’s economic and legal status, their charity and the moral conduct expected from women. Through the eyes of Libanius, John Chrysostom and Roman lawmakers we see a variety of female portraits, from capable benefactresses and ascetic noblewomen to inexperienced brides and mothers responsible for their children’s formation. On the basis of the same authors A. Pellizzari guides readers through Antiochene streets, presenting a distorted, ambivalent view of the elite towards the local middle classes. Despite their indispensable role in sustaining the city, this heterogeneous and hierarchical array of artisans, specialised merchants and lower-level bureaucrats enjoyed little respect from the upper echelons of society, with some professions, like metalworkers, holding a better standing than, for example, potters or butchers.
Perhaps they would jointly complain about soldiers’ disruptive behaviour or, conversely, appreciate their positive impact on their businesses, as J. Wintjes demonstrates in the analysis of the military’s impact on the urban fabric. The paucity of evidence prevents him from making unequivocal statements about Antioch as a ‘military metropolis’, but he offers convincing arguments for the existence of critical infrastructure that must have underpinned the ongoing military presence in the second to the fourth centuries. Moreover, the army, supporting local demography and labouring on construction sites, could meaningfully contribute to Antioch’s resilience. Curiously, Wintjes’s uncertainty about the military’s participation in the Antiochene riots finds answers in the following chapter by P. Filipczak, who delves into the specifics of urban violence. He demonstrates its elusiveness in the sources, as it sometimes takes untraceable forms (street crimes), and those responsible are generally lost in the crowd. Not without reason riots are usually associated with hippodrome hooligans; but if Antiocheans were prone to rebel, it was for mundane reasons such as hunger, rising prices and taxes; they usually led peaceful lives. The assessment of violence against Jews that erupted only in the 480s falls within the broader discussion of the anti-Jewish shift in the rhetoric of the sixth century, addressed by C. Shepardson, who shows that contemporary depictions of Jews were a duplication of anti-Jewish literary topoi, not a real representation of local Jews who gradually disappeared from late antique sources. More particularly, A.B. Finkelstein demonstrates that John Malalas depicted the Jews as passive victims abandoned by God to fit the author’s agenda, especially his rejection of chiliastic eschatology. Lastly, Sarris repositions Antioch within the late antique Roman empire, demonstrating that the city underwent a profound transformation from Noreña’s provincial capital (here: ‘tetrarchic capital’) to a ‘revered centre of ecclesiastical and civil authority’ (p. 353) that might differ only slightly from Alexandria or Constantinople.
Part 4, ‘Religion’, to some degree continues the social orientation of the preceding section, focusing on the beliefs of local communities. C. Bay examines the Antiochene origins of Christianity and the formation of a local congregation within the city’s multicultural milieu. The Bourdieu-inspired sociological approach hinted at in the conclusions could have offered an innovative analytical lens if the author had fully integrated it. C.A. Bozinis paints a panorama of local church officials through portrayals of its most (in)famous bishops and their careers, backstaged by theological squabbles and a fourth-century local schism. They become the leading actors in F. Alpi’s scrutiny of these controversies and their entangled imperial and regional dimensions. W. Mayer brings together and problematises all known, if limited, data on Antiochene churches and monasteries, wondering how much they can reveal about the experience and character of contemporary polysectarian Christianity. In the middle of this predominantly Christian section B. Cabouret argues against the negative bias in modern scholarship towards Emperor Julian and his visit to Antioch, as stemming from blind faith in Christian sources. She deconstructs the image of the restorer of paganism (which Alpi repeats in passing, p. 422), demonstrating that imperial responsibilities and preparations for the Persian campaign dictated Julian’s stay in Antioch. At the same time, polytheism and the cohabitation of local communities continued as usual.
The last section directly concerns the discourse and reality of disasters and resilience in Antioch. J. Pickett depicts the possible state reactions to earthquakes. The catastrophes would stimulate an influx of wealth either from Hellenistic rulers interested in winning the favour of the Antiocheans or from the Roman imperial system of crisis management – remission of taxes and sending money, specialists and officials supervising building programmes. He notes that, despite the obvious tragedy, such events could have a positive impact on local communities, changing individual fortunes and offering a chance for renewal. Inspired by contemporary critical disaster theory, M. Eisenberg reopens the question of the subjectivity and agendas of historical narratives on disasters. Frequently drawing on D. Gyllenhaal’s study (Collective Trauma and Divine Providence [2022]), he argues for the existence of a discourse of disasters as divine wrath that emerged in Christian homilies and later entered historiography. L. Mordechai examines the epidemiological situation in sixth-century Antioch, taking into account all data on diseases affecting the city and its vicinity, thereby expanding the usual catalogue of local catastrophes. Eisenberg and Mordechai tend to downplay the value of written sources on the subject. While their focus on reconsidering the narratives and combining various types of evidence offers essential conclusions, there are some striking gaps. For instance, it seems worrying that Mordechai presents authoritative readings of extremely scarce, poorly preserved and understudied epigraphy. Eisenberg, like many other authors in the volume, investigates John Malalas’ narrative despite the apparent limited awareness of current criticism of the Chronographia’s transmission and authorship (e.g. E. Jeffreys, ‘The Manuscript Transmission of Malalas’ Chronicle Reconsidered’, in: M. Meier et al. [edd.], Die Weltchronik des Johannes Malalas [2016]). Only Saliou and Finkelstein address these issues seriously.
Last but not least, A.A. Eger concludes the volume with highly indicative reflections from the ‘post-interesting’, i.e. Islamic medieval Antioch, exposing scholarship’s ignorance of the city’s Arabic history. He delivers the most substantial proof of Antioch’s resilience and continuity: the cultivated memory of the ancient city by Muslim citizens who took pride in it even when the city came under Eastern Roman or Crusader rule.
How the urban past is constantly recast by its inhabitants over a thousand years of the city’s existence lies at the core of Magdalino’s book, which opens Brill’s new Research Perspectives in Byzantine Studies series. It is a rather discursive work written by an author whose oeuvre is widely recognised in Byzantine Studies. Therefore, it seems reasonable to expect a large number of reviews with closer attention to the later period (so far, by M. Garnczarska, Studia Ceranea 14 [2024]; J.J.H. Christensen, BMCR 2025.03.32 [2025]; N. Westbrook, International Journal of the Classical Tradition 32 [2025]). For these reasons, as well as the chronological overlap with Antioch, this review aligns more with my own expertise, thus leaning more towards the first part of the study.
Magdalino’s book concerns the local urban narrative in written sources engaging with the city’s history (fifth–tenth centuries) and aesthetics (eleventh–fifteenth centuries). He intends to shift attention from studying the city and its history to observing how the ‘Byzantine Romans’ communicated with it. To some extent, he detaches its role as a synecdoche of the state from its perception as a city. What is most innovative yet questionable is treating the ancient authors, especially those from earlier periods, as researchers. It would seemingly put more attention to the process of research, the intellectual work behind the texts, but the actual subject remains their narratives. The latter inevitably comes to mind when Magdalino essentially distinguishes two modes of engaging with Constantinople: memorial and aesthetic. If the purpose of the scholarly method ‘is literary and polemical rather than scientific’ (p. 3), are they really the modes of ‘research’ or rather the researchers’ narratives?
The central hypothesis of the book is that these two dominant approaches to Constantinople, as expressed by its literary inhabitants, are articulated through specific genres: first, focused on retrieving and commemorating the city’s ancient past in antiquarian histories and compendia, and second, on the spectacle of wonder and beauty revealed through rhetorical art. Magdalino argues that each trend answered specific contemporary needs. It first emerged in the fifth to sixth centuries, when authors seek to create a positive urban memory, use history to support Constantinople’s claim to the status of imperial capital and New Rome, and compete with other, more ancient cities. Magdalino differentiates between Christian and pagan narratives of the city’s foundation: the former dwelt on amplifying its Christian character, the latter on its ancient origins. It is assumed that pagan narratives might reflect especially the elite’s nostalgia for a history that could be lost with the fall of Rome. Magdalino speculates at great length about the lost Patria of Christodoros of Koptos, which could serve as their source and reflect the conscious attempt of the intellectual elites to create an ancient history of Constantinople. But the division can give the impression of being clear-cut, even if it is not intended as one. Unexpectedly, Magdalino overlooks the Christian dimension of Malalas’ narrative: Constantine’s ‘bloodless sacrifice’ marks a clear break from the human ‘tyche sacrifices’ performed by previous emperors (e.g. B. Garstad, Bouttios and Late Antique Antioch [2022], esp. pp. 74–8).
This peculiar antiquarian ‘research’ was conducted to uncover the city’s antiquities for both citizens and visitors. The official city-guides and compendia-like works, such as Parastaseis syntomoi chronikai or Patria Constantinopouleos, served as repositories of cultural memory and historical identity. Overall, those early historians of the city met the need for historical continuity and identity and, in Magdalino’s view, formed a ‘research culture’ that was carried forward by the bureaucratic and encyclopaedic antiquarianism of the imperial court.
The fundamental turn would take place around the tenth to eleventh centuries, marking the beginning of the aesthetic mode of rediscovering the city’s beauty. Constantinople had finally become an object of blooming rhetorical praise, a form of appreciation that persisted in various forms until its pinnacle, Theodore Metochites’ Byzantios, which mastered earlier tropes of presenting the city’s wonder. It is particularly fascinating how dramatic historical circumstances could fuel the dynamics of this image for the generation of 1204. Magdalino has intertwined these transformations with the parallel development of Western perspectives on the city, spanning from the Crusaders’ criticism of the city’s decay to the formation of Renaissance fascination, laying the ground for modern scientific research on Constantinople.
