Over the last decade or so there has been increasing interest in the foundation myths of various cities and groups in the Mediterranean, foremost among these the East Greek Ionians. It is now widely accepted that utterances of foundation myths are associated with fraught political contexts, where they were useful tools in diplomatic exchanges underpinning treaties or alliances between communities, or stressing the legitimacy and rights of various groups. They are mutable and often inconsistent, sometimes wildly so, across different ancient sources, evidencing a range of contextual deployments that scholars have aimed to investigate. While acknowledging this shifting nature, debate has also concerned whether or to what extent early archaeological remains at sites can be taken as evidence of immigration consistent with foundation stories recounted in the much later literary sources. Opinions can be polarised between old-fashioned positivism and seeing foundation stories as later fictions, although many have tried to steer a middle path that allows for both some historical truth in the myths as well as later manipulations – an issue anyone familiar with Troy will know well. The difficulty is how to explain this effectively.

For those who work on the history and archaeology of non-Hellenic groups in Anatolia, there is another set of foundation stories equally if not more intriguing, which have received comparatively little attention: stories that link, in varying ways, the origins of groups and settlements to Crete in the time of Minos. In this interesting book C.U. tackles this in the case of Caria, tracing permutations of the stories in literary sources, the potential emergence of the notion from the Bronze Age and particularities of its reception in Hellenistic period contexts. The term ‘cultural interaction’ in the title pertinently signals an underlying principle in the work: that the idea of Cretan heritage is embedded in long-standing interaction between Caria and the island that she aims to elucidate. The book is wide-ranging and erudite, treating disparate sources and interpretative issues with sensitivity and is a contribution that will be of interest to scholars of foundation myths, Western Anatolia, Crete and Hellenistic history alike, although it leaves one or two questions dangling, to which I will come back below.

The volume is divided into six chapters of relatively even size (45 pages max., most around 20–30), with a separate introduction and conclusion, and two appendices on important inscriptions (the ‘Origin Myth’ inscription [Magnesia 17] and the Mylasa ‘Cretan Dossier’). The introduction sets out the main question(s) in more expansive terms than just a tracing and examination of foundation myths: when and how did a Carian regional identity emerge, and what was the role of Crete in that? C.U. is careful to explain that these questions cannot be answered if Carians are conceived in a binary framework, simply contrasted with Greeks in the way that many Greek sources characterise them, or by taking isolated artefacts (e.g. double axes found at Iasus) as unproblematic signs of contact, as has been done in the past. Rather, the (ongoing) emergence of Carian identity and the Cretan contribution can only be understood by appreciating how Caria operated within the Aegean as a network – although she is as sensitive to problems involved in how ‘networks’ as a concept is employed in modern literature as she is to the vagaries of ancient texts and their uses. The next two chapters feel like expansions on the introduction, considering (Chapter 1) how the notion of ‘Carian’ is articulated in Greek sources and how it may be articulated by language and inscriptions, and in terms of geography, and (Chapter 2) providing an overview of the sources for the role of Crete. There is a bit of repetition here in terms of how the past was used in antiquity, but an admirably exhaustive laying out of the various traditions and sources for Cretan contact and heritage, which will form a valuable reference resource.

The third chapter tackles archaeology and contact, taking Bronze Age Miletus as a principle case, but also bringing in other sites such as Iasus, as well as considering what Hittite sources on Western Anatolia add. Here C.U. stakes her place between the above-mentioned poles in this debate, noting that later traditions were not invented simply in response to contemporary circumstances, but adapted from what had been passed down. It may not be possible to find positive evidence for the earliest parts of that transmission process, but, she argues, the weight of evidence for contact between Miletus and the Aegean, especially Minoan Crete, needs to be taken seriously as an indicator of the kind of setting from which such traditions could have originated. This does not, of course, mean that the stories are ‘true’ or even really that they have a ‘kernel of truth’. She does not say this, and in the current political environment it may sound worrying, but in the case of origin myths and archaeology we could do with forgetting about finding ‘truth’ or determining points of origin, and thinking more of development over deep time.

The final three chapters are all dedicated to Hellenistic Caria, evidence for contacts with Crete in that period and the examination of the emergence and deployment of traditions in particular contexts. Key here is mobility. In Chapter 4 C.U. shows that there is good evidence for Cretan mobility in piracy and diplomacy that brought them into frequent contact with Western Anatolia. Carian cities among others shared proxenia awards with Crete, and the ‘Cretan Dossier’ of 23 inscribed decrees from Mylasa (pp. 137–49) attests honours bestowed on the city and its citizens by Cretan cities after a delegation was sent to them seeking some kind of formal alliance. C.U. suggests (p. 159) that this was a proactive move to secure a positive position with the Macedonian powers between 217 and 205 bc, after Philip V was appointed leader of the Cretan koinon. In an in-depth look at the ‘Origin Myth’ inscription from Magnesia (admittedly not officially Carian, but with a possibly Carian founder and with territory south of the Maeander) and at the establishment of cults of ‘Cretan-born’ Zeus in Caria in Chapters 5 and 6, C.U. argues that both can be connected to increased mobility, including the presence of Cretan mercenaries in south-western Anatolia in the fraught Hellenistic period, rather than top-down Royal initiative as has been proposed in the case of the latter.

There is some repetition through the chapters as C.U. advances her discussion and seeks to reiterate and drive home points about ancient uses of foundation traditions. One also has an impression that the source material for and from Caria is actually quite scarce, since C.U. often swings into substantial discussion of juicier examples from elsewhere. The Classical period, and especially, considering this is Caria, the Hecatomnid period is a conspicuous gap. One assumes that there is simply a lack of good evidence, but if so, is it significant that there are not indications of Hecatomnid interest in Crete? The nature of the evidence could be more clearly outlined, and there are some areas that could be expanded on: the contexts of the erection of Carian inscriptions; Cretan society and culture in the Hellenistic period; and the wider conceptualisation of Crete and its Golden Age in ancient thought. But there is always more to do, and none of this undermines the exemplary quality of this book as a meticulous synthesis towards addressing a challenging question, and its success in bringing both Caria and the Cretan question to greater scholarly attention.