I welcome Edward J. Watts’ new book on the survival and resilience of the Roman state. Tracing the history of Rome from its origins with Romulus and Remus to the destruction of Constantinople and the breakup of the remaining provinces by the Fourth Crusade in April 1204, W.’s study will make a valuable and insightful addition to the libraries of classicists, Byzantinists, and historians of ideas. At the time of writing this review, Byzantine studies are experiencing a change in the way the eastern Roman world is recognised and studied. A school of thought is emerging that argues for the abandonment of the term ‘Byzantine’ and its replacement with ‘Roman’, the very term with which those people referred to themselves. W.’s work provides a powerful advocation for that argument.
With consistency and tenacity, W. presents the multifaceted degrees of continuity that characterised the Roman state from its foundation to its destruction. He argues that this state survived for nearly two millennia largely, if not entirely, because of transformative resilience: a skilled ability to balance constructive continuity with organic evolution promoted an unbroken succession that survived and flourished from 753 B.C. until 1204 A.D. (pp. 4-8, 622-7). As a result, the peoples that inhabited this state throughout all the forms it took should be referred to collectively as Romans, since they not only inherited and inhabited the same state, but even subscribed to many of the same ideals that said state championed (pp. 2-3). W.’s book thus succeeds in occupying an important place in both classical and Byzantine scholarship that he believes has until now been lacking; a study that emphasises the links between these two branches of historical research (p. 2). W. presents his assessment confidently and eloquently, often providing obscure observations and interpretations to substantiate his thesis. These make his work vital both to the undergraduate and the seasoned academic alike, providing both with creative but critical new ways to engage with both the classical and Byzantine periods.
Particular commendation must be given to the structure of the study. The book is divided into forty-six chapters (plus an introduction and conclusion), most of which follow a largely conventional chronological narrative. Unexpectedly, though, W. also includes two chapters on the reign of Theodoric in Italy and that of Pepin and Charlemagne in the kingdom of the Franks. Both enable the author to illustrate many important links between the various eras discussed (pp. 193, 198, 382-3, 455-7, 570, 586-8, 600). The aforementioned chapters also distinguish convincingly between the continuity of the Roman state and other polities that sought to emulate but were not directly related to it (pp. 370-80, 473-83). The structure therefore enables W. to further showcase the legitimacy of his overall argument, and simultaneously extends the appeal and relevance of his book to those with broader medieval interests.
It suffers, however, from some minor formatting imperfections. The endnotes are laid out in a consistent and well-presented style, and the references to secondary studies are perfect. The references to primary sources, though, leave out any information on the specific edition and/or translation, or other publication details (pp. 435-92). While this is unlikely to be a major problem for experienced scholars, undergraduates may find it more difficult to trace these references so that they may follow up on the primary sources for their own studies. This is a pity because, as mentioned above, the overall book would make a great addition to the reading lists of undergraduate courses alongside those of postgraduate researchers.
Similar can be said of some linguistic conventions. W. convincingly makes his case for why he does not use the term ‘Byzantine’ at the very beginning of his text, but other terminological choices are left without explanation (pp. 2-3). He refuses, for example, to use the word ‘Monophysite’ and instead substitutes this with ‘anti-Chalcedonian’ (pp. 391-3, 412-3). As above, this is no problem for an expert, but it may inadvertently confuse newer students. The author undoubtedly has critical and rational reason for adopting this convention and others like it, but an explanation of why he has done so would have alleviated any potential confusion, and possibly even promoted a philological discussion on top of the historical.
It is also sparsely illustrated proportionate to the size and scope of the narrative. Make no mistake, the illustrations that are included are superbly detailed and beautifully rendered. But there are only nine of them in total, which I had to count manually because there is also no list of illustrations. Three of them are found in the opening pages before the introduction commences, and the remaining six are only found at the beginning of each main section (pp. xiv-xvi, 106, 214, 302, 404, 500, 572). Moreover, almost all of them take the form of territorial maps. Given the high standard and relevance of the illustrations that are present, a greater volume and variety would have promoted this strength even further. For example, W. uses the Severan Tondo to make a very interesting point about the demographic of the Roman empire in the late-second and early-third centuries (p. 265). Including a facsimile of the Tondo itself would have greatly helped to consolidate this observation.
However, these are all only minor flaws and do not severely detract from what is otherwise an excellent publication. W.’s new book succeeds brilliantly in emphasising and substantiating the links between the classical and Byzantine worlds that it set out to demonstrate and provides a valuable perspective on the topic for students and academics of both specialisms.
