‘Pseudo-Kodinos’ is the name given to an anonymous compilation of the mid-fourteenth century which offers information on court ceremonial and incorporates various earlier protocols, with a focus on hierarchical status as reflected in standing (not sitting) arrangements, attire —above all, hats and staffs—, colour codes, spatial partitions, forms of address, and the like. It is a rich source of information for historians of all persuasions (political, social and cultural), philologists, art historians and social anthropologists, and we are all much indebted to Ruth Macrides and her Birmingham team of researchers for making this marvellous text available in English translation, producing an excellent commentary (in the footnotes attached to the translation) and offering an in-depth analysis of Pseudo-Kodinos in the Introduction and in the ‘Studies’ that make up the second part of the volume (pp. 275–467). Buy this book!

The book faithfully reproduces Verpeaux's edition of the Greek text, with a few minor changes (and a few minor typographical errors); by some unlucky chance, part of the text is missing at item VI of the Greek index (p. 24). I find some of Verpeaux's and the editors’ readings doubtful: 112.5 (Verpeaux 187.3) εἰσδούλευσεν (the unaugmented form is too vulgar for Pseudo-Kodinos), 114.8 (188.16) δροῦγγα (the military unit is called a δροῦγγος), 148.10 (205.23) εἰτανίων: read ἐϊτανίων (ἐϊτάνιον < ἀϊτάνιον < γαϊτάνιον), 200.17 (246.24) τζάγκαν and 202.6 (247.12) τζάγκας, but 80.2 (172.2) τζαγκὰς (in all three instances one would expect τζαγκᾶς for a person who makes τζαγκία), 226.15 (263.8) συνελοῦντα (?): there is no verb συνελέω, read συντελοῦντα. The translation is generally excellent, but is sometimes a bit too literal: e.g. pp. 248–9 ταῦτα γὰρ τὰ μὲν παλαιὰ ζητεῖται· (ὁ δὲ βασιλεὺς κτλ.), ‘The headdress used of old is sought’ — in my view, the correct translation is: ‘As for this headdress, what it was like in the past is unknown (but the emperor Kantakouzenos etc.)’.

In his edition Verpeaux had pointed out that the passage in protocol I (p. 26.18–19 in the Birmingham edition): ἐποίησεν τὸν μέγαν δομέστικον τὸν Καντακουζηνὸν Ἰωάννην, ὃς ἐγεγόνει καὶ βασιλεύς, ‘appointed John Kantakouzenos, who became also emperor [later], as megas domestikos’, indicated that Pseudo-Kodinos compiled his text after Kantakouzenos had abdicated. Macrides (p. 18) thinks that he is overstating his case: as she rightly points out, a pluperfect often has the meaning of an aorist or an imperfect in Byzantine Greek. However, even if we were to substitute ἐγένετο for ἐγεγόνει, the most logical interpretation would still be that Kantakouzenos was no longer emperor at the time of writing. This combined with the fact that Pseudo-Kodinos tells us that the emperor carries the akakia wrapped up in a handkerchief, just as John V does in a no longer extant mosaic in Hagia Sophia whereas Kantakouzenos is portrayed with an akakia without handkerchief (see p. 14), strongly suggests a date after 1354 for this compilation of ceremonial protocols.

Another bone of contention is the date of the ‘epithalamium’ and the miniatures in Vat. gr. 1851, which show striking similarities with Pseudo-Kodinos, not only in the part that deals with the reception of foreign brides, but also in the description of court attire. Traditionally dated to the twelfth century, there are very good reasons to see it as a product of the Palaeologan period: palaeography, iconography, language. Table III of this book, which lists the earliest attestations of ceremonies and items of clothing, quite often mentions Vat. gr. 1851 as the oldest text witness; but in fact, it is probably contemporary with Pseudo-Kodinos.

I would like to end with two queries. First, why do we see this sudden flurry of lists of precedence in the fourteenth century (Pseudo-Kodinos, Matthew Blastares, Constantine Harmenopoulos and others [see pp. 280–289]), after three centuries of apparent neglect? While the editors rightly point out that the Palaeologan protocols serve different political agendas (pro- and anti-Kantakouzenos), the fact remains that we have nothing similar for the Comnenian period. Knowing one's place is important for the Macedonian dynasty (Philotheos’ Kletorologion, taktika, Book of Ceremonies) and for the Palaeologan dynasty. Is court ceremonial less important in the intervening period? Second, granted that ‘Pseudo-Kodinos’ is a compilation of protocols, why did the compiler not include more? There is nothing on imperial wedding and funerals, nothing on embassies to and from foreign powers, and little on the major feasts of the liturgical year. Does this indicate that protocols regarding such events were not readily available to the compiler? Or is this compilation a project abandoned halfway through?

As Macrides and her colleagues rightly stress throughout their commentary and studies, Palaeologan court ceremonial is a mixture of tradition and innovation: some elements are Comnenian or even older, others derive from the Nicaean intermezzo, but most date from after 1261. It is worth noting that Pseudo-Kodinos, whenever he deals with innovations that did not take place in living memory, is at a loss to explain the course of events or describe how things were before these innovations occurred. His repeated phrase is ‘ζητεῖται’, indicating that the prehistory of certain practices and rituals ‘is unknown’ and ‘needs further research’. It shows an acute historical awareness on his part, but it also shows how little the Byzantines knew about their own past and how much they were groping in the dark — just as we are, trying to make sense of Pseudo-Kodinos and related sources, and anxious about wearing the wrong hat for the occasion.