People
Gallienus
The emperor Gallienus was a controversial figure in antiquity. On the one hand, the Latin sources vilify him either as degenerating into the worst sort of effeminate, ineffectual tyrant (Eutropius), or having been of that nature from the very start (Aurelius Victor; the Historia Augusta). On the other hand, the Greek sources (Zonaras; Zozimus) portray him in a far more positive light, as struggling manfully to hold the empire together in the face of overwhelming odds. There is an obvious line of explanation. Gallienus got on badly with the Senate – he promoted men of obscure origins and may have excluded Senators from army commands – and Senatorial opinion dominated Latin historiography.
The only modern, book-length scholarly study known to me is L. de Blois, The Policy of the Emperor Gallienus (Leiden, 1976).
There is no certainty about when Gallienus was born. Estimates usually range between AD215 and AD218. I arrived at a slightly later date via the following steps. Gallienus’s father, Valerian, was ‘old’ when he came to the throne in AD253 – let us say sixty. So, Valerian was born around AD193. Elite Roman men tended to marry in their late twenties. Thus, Valerian probably would have wedded just before AD223. Gallienus seems to have been his eldest child – so may have been born in AD222. I had worked this through before I realized that it, most usefully, made Gallienus and my fictional Ballista exact coevals. Of course, every assumption and every stage of the reasoning may well be completely wrong.
Hippothous
In Lion of the Sun and The Caspian Gates, the life story Hippothous tells himself and others follows that of his namesake in An Ephesian Tale by Xenophon of Ephesus, up until the death of the old woman he married in Tauromenium. In the ancient novel, the character then travelled to Italy, Rhodes and Ephesus. In mine, he headed back to Cilicia, where he set himself up, via successful banditry, as a leading man of the town of Dometiopolis, until the Sassanid invasion caused him to throw in his lot with Ballista and become his accensus. An oddly unreliable narrator, Hippothous is lucky that Ballista’s former accensus Demetrius is away in the west and that none of the rest of the familia read Greek novels. (Ballista tried The Aithiopika of Heliodorus in Lion of the Sun, but did not get on with it.)
There is an excellent translation of Xenophon of Ephesus by Graham Anderson in B.P. Rearden (ed.), Collected Greek Novels (Berkeley, Los Angeles & London, 1989, pp.125–69).
Peoples
The Goths
There has been something of a boom in the last twenty-five years or so in scholarly studies of the Goths. Outstanding among them are H. Wolfram, History of the Goths (English translation, Berkeley, Los Angeles & London, 1988); and P. Heather, The Goths (Malden MA, Oxford & Carlton, 1996). Many of the most important sources are collected and translated in P. Heather, and J. Matthews, The Goths in the Fourth Century (Liverpool, 2004). Recently, M. Kulikowski’s Rome’s Gothic Wars (Cambridge, 2007) makes a revisionist argument that the Goths as a group only came into existence in the region of the Danube in the third century due to the influence of Rome. For this to be true, the first century Gotones mentioned in Tacitus, Germania 44 have not to be Goths, and Jordanes, Getica 3–4 on the origins of the Goths has to be completely wrong. It should be remembered that Jordanes was a Goth, and his evidence shows, at the very least, that Goths in the sixth century believed that their ancestors had migrated from the Baltic in the third.
The chronology of Gothic raids in the Black Sea and the Aegean during the AD250s–260s is hopelessly confused. As the Goths were a very loose confederation at this time, I have assumed a Viking model of raiding: endemic, low-level piracy, with occasional large-scale assaults.
The Sassanids
To the reading on the Sassanids (also known as Sasanids, Sassanians, and Sasanians) given in Fire in the East and Lion of the Sun can be added the provocative and wide-ranging overview ‘The Sasanid Monarchy’ by Z. Rubin in The Cambridge Ancient History XIV, edited by A. Cameron, B. Ward-Perkins and M. Whitby (Cambridge, 2000, pp. 638–61.
Places
Ephesus
Sources for this city were given in King of Kings.
Priene
Situated on the lower slopes of the Mycale mountain range, with views out over the Maeander plain and the sea, Priene is a magical and little visited site. Far and away the best book, although very difficult to find (at least in English; it was also published in German and Turkish) is F. Rumscheid, Priene: A Guide to the ‘Pompeii of Asia Minor’ (Istanbul, 1998). Useful short introductions can be found in G.E. Bean, Aegean Turkey: An Archaeological Guide (London, 1966, pp. 197–216); and E. Akurgal, Ancient Civilizations and Ruins of Turkey (London, New York & Bahrain, 2002, pp. 185–206).
Miletus
Published to tie in with an exhibition in Berlin in 2009–10, the essential work on Roman Miletus, with wonderful maps, plans and pictures, is Zeiträume: Milet in Kaiserzeit und Spätantike, edited by O. Dally et al (Berlin, 2009). As with Priene, above, brief introductions are in Bean, op. cit., 219–80; and Akurgal, op. cit., 206–22. Although focused on earlier periods, there are various informative studies by Alan Greaves, especially ‘Miletos and the Sea: A Stormy Relationship’, in The Sea in Antiquity, edited by G.J. Oliver et al (Oxford, 2000, pp. 39–61); and Miletos: A History (London & New York, 2002, pp. 1–38; 137–42).
Didyma
The standard book is J. Fontenrose, Didyma: Apollo’s Oracle, Cult, and Companions (Berkeley, Los Angeles & London, 1988), although, splendidly, the author only spent ‘a good part’ of one day on the site (p. x). Again, introductions in Bean, op. cit., 231–48; and Akurgal, op. cit., 222–31.
The Black Sea
My interest in the Black Sea was sparked by two texts, one ancient and one modern. Dio Chrysostom, Oration 36, The Borysthenetic Discourse, includes an incredible account of a trip the philosopher claims to have made to the city of Olbia (or Borysthenes, as it was also called) on the north-west coast. Neil Ascherson’s The Black Sea (London, 1995) is a fine mixture of popular history and travelogue. The latter has recently been joined by Charles King, The Black Sea: A History (Oxford, 2004): a splendid work of historical synthesis.
For anyone wanting to journey in their imagination in the Black Sea of antiquity, there are three essential classical texts. Voyaging west to east, Arrian, Periplus Ponti Euxini (in the edition of A. Liddle, London, 2003, with introduction, translation and commentary), and Apollonius of Rhodes, The Argonautica (several translations in print); heading in the other direction, Xenophon, The Anabasis (available in many translations).
For seafaring, as in Fire in the East, I have drawn heavily on the practical experiences of Tim Severin, The Jason Voyage: The Quest for the Golden Fleece (London, 1985), and the scholarship of J.S. Morrison, J.E. Coates and N.B. Rankov, The Athenian Trireme: The History and Reconstruction of an Ancient Greek Warship (2nd edn, Cambridge, 2000). The litmus test of an under-researched historical novel set in the classical world is the inclusion of slave oarsmen, usually complemented with anachronistic whips, chains and drums. The briefest glance at the magisterial Ships and Seamanship in the Ancient World by Lionel Casson (2nd edn, Baltimore, 1995, pp. 322–7), dispels any such notion.
The Caucasus
The outstanding work of modern scholarship is D. Braund, Georgia in Antiquity: A History of Colchis and Transcaucasian Iberia 550BC –AD 562 (Oxford, 1994). The single most important ancient text is Strabo 11.2.1–5.8.
I have drawn much from travellers’ accounts. Among Victorian ones, particularly useful are two by D.W. Freshfield, Travels in the Central Caucasus and Bashan (London, 1869; facsimile, 2005) and The Exploration of the Caucasus (2 vols., London, 1902; facsimile, 2005); and one by A.T. Cunynghame, Travels in the Eastern Caucasus, on the Caspian and Black Seas, especially in Daghestan and on the Frontiers of Persia and Turkey during the Summer of 1871 (London, 1872; facsimile, 2005). Two enjoyable modern ones are T. Anderson, Bread and Ashes: A Walk through the Mountains of Georgia (London, 2003); and O. Bullough
, Let Our Fame be Great: Journeys among the Defiant People of the Caucasus (London, 2010).
Fluidity of boundaries, both political and cultural, marked the peoples of the ancient Caucasus. Given this, I have moved some things around for this novel. The Mouth of the Impious (Ps-Plutarch, On Rivers 5) – which probably never existed at all – has migrated from Colchis to Suania. Albanian scapegoats (Strabo 11.4.7) have been imported to Suania, complete with a fictitious explanation. Control over the Dariel (or Daryal) Pass (the Caspian Gates in this novel) has been handed to the king of Suania. Usually, the king of Iberia is thought to have controlled it. Procopius (1.10.9–12), however, wrote that it ‘was held by many men in turn as time went on’, and, at the time he was writing about (a rare occasion when we have any evidence at all), it was not held by the Iberian king. Unable to find a classical name for the Cross pass, I named it the Dareine Pass from an unidentified pass through the Caucasus in the work of Menander Guardsman (10.5).
It is a pity the three Caucasian rivers in the novel had such similar names. The Alontas is the modern-day Terek, the Alazonios the Alazani, and the Aragos the Aragvi.
Things
Earthquake
For the physical effects of the earthquake that struck Ephesus, probably in AD262, I borrowed heavily from Edward Paice’s enthralling Wrath of God: The Great Lisbon Earthquake of 1755 (London, 2008). The classical ideas about earthquakes come mainly from Aristotle, Meteorologica II.7–8; and Ammianus Marcellinus XVII.7.9–14.
Exile
For the elite of the classical world, exile was an ever-present fear. The Roman emperors’ frequent imposition of the punishment on intellectuals encouraged a great deal of literature on the subject. The main texts used in this novel are Musonius Rufus, That Exile is Not an Evil (text and translation, C.E. Lutz in Yale Classical Studies 10, 1947, pp.68–77); Dio Chrysostom, Oration 13, In Athens, On Exile (text and translation in Loeb series, J.W. Cohoon, 1939); and Favorinus, On Exile (translated by Tim Whitmarsh as an appendix in his Greek Literature and the Roman Empire: The Politics of Imitation, Oxford, 2001, pp. 302–24).
Physiognomy
The ancient ‘science’ of reading physical externals to reveal character and thus uncover both deeds that have been committed as well as those still to come has been brought to the attention of students of mainstream aspects of the classical world by S. Swain (ed.), Seeing the Face, Seeing the Soul: Polemon’s Physiognomy from Classical Antiquity to Medieval Islam (Oxford, 2007) – a model of collaborative, wide-ranging scholarship.
Philosophers
In chapter six, the views of Gallienus on philosophers in the Roman empire are very close to those of H. Sidebottom, ‘Philostratus and the Symbolic Roles of the Sophist and Philosopher’, in E. Bowie and J. Elsner (eds.), Philostratus (Cambridge, 2009, pp.69–99) – which some might consider unsurprising.
Eunuchs
There has been less scholarship on this subject than one might imagine. Modern interest begins with K. Hopkins, ‘The Political Power of Eunuchs’, in his Conquerors and Slaves: Sociological Studies in Roman History, vol. I (Cambridge, 1978, pp.172–96). Things are taken much further in the essays collected in S. Tougher (ed.), Eunuchs in Antiquity and Beyond (London & Swansea, 2002) and S. Tougher, The Eunuch in Byzantine History and Society (London, 2008).
For the views of Mastabates in chapter sixteen on the prejudices of others against his kind, I played with two works of Lucian: The Eunuch and The False Critic.
Persian Punishments
In chapter 28, the ghastly Persian punishment is from Plutarch, Artaxerxes 16; variants of the symbolic one are found in Plutarch, Moralia 565A; Favorinus, Corinthian Oration (preserved in the works of Dio Chrysostom, Oration 37.47); and Ammianus Marcellinus 30.8.4. The historicity of them is uncertain. All come from non-Persian sources, and all refer to the Achaemenid dynasty. However, it is probable that the Sassanid dynasty regarded themselves as heirs to the ancient Achaemenids (although some scholars deny this), and it seems that the Sassanid royal court was to some extent Hellenized. Given those two things, it is conceivable that these punishments might have been ‘invented traditions’: the Sassanids reading them in sources from the Roman empire and then ‘importing’ them as ‘genuine Ancient Persian customs’. Whatever, they were too good not to include in this novel.
Other Historical Novels
As in all the novels in this series, I have included deliberate homages to a couple of historical novelists whose work has both proved an inspiration and given me a lot of pleasure.
The evocative hooming sound the Goths make is taken from Robert Low’s wonderful Oathsworn series – The Whale Road (2007), The Wolf Sea (2008), The White Raven (2009) and The Prow Beast (2010) – the very best of Viking novels.
Ballista’s habit of calling on his distant ancestor Woden as Allfather derives from Votan (1966) and Not for All the Gold in Ireland (1968) by John James. I had forgotten this, until I reread them last year. Both are enthralling works and do not deserve to be out of print.
Quotes
The lines from Seneca’s Medea at the heading of sections of the novel are from the splendid translation by Emily Gowers, Seneca, Six Tragedies (Oxford, 2010), which also underlies Pythonissa’s curse at the end of the book.
Thanks
In every novel, I thank mainly the same people, but neither my gratitude nor pleasure diminish.
First, the professionals: Alex Clarke, Jen Doyle, Tom Chicken, Francesca Russell, Katya Shipster at Penguin; Sarah Day for copy-editing; and James Gill at United Agents.
Next, Oxford: Maria Stamatopoulou, Louise Durning, and Janie Anderson at Lincoln College; and John Eidinow at St Benet’s Hall. A couple of colleagues – Al Moreno at Magdalen College, and Lisa Kallet at University College; and a couple of postgraduates – Richard Marshall at Wadham, and Chris Noon at Christ Church – have helped more than they know by teaching some of my students. Two of the latter, Matt Elstrop and Will Gibbs, escaped neither my tutorials nor endless talk of Ballista.
Then friends: Jeremy Tinton for Maximus-related stuff; Adi Nell for the killing of animals, especially horses; Jeremy Haberley for inhabiting Rutilus; Kate Haberley for what remains the best obscenity in the novel; Steve Miller for the Turkish driving (‘anticipation’); and Peter Cosgrove for the foreign travel, the photos, the office, and lots of other stuff.
Finally, my family for their love and support. In Suffolk, my mother Frances and aunt Terry. In Woodstock, my wife Lisa and sons Tom and Jack.
Glossary
The definitions given here are geared to The Caspian Gates. If a word or phrase has several meanings, only that or those relevant to this novel tend to be given.
Ab Admissionibus: Official who controlled admission into the presence of the Roman emperor.
Abasgia: Kingdom on the north-east shore of the Black Sea, divided into an eastern and a western half, each with its own king.
Ab Epistulis: Official in charge of imperial correspondence, who usually wrote the emperor’s letters.
Abonouteichos: Town in Pontus where the holy man/ charlatan Alexander founded the cult of a serpent-bodied god named Glycon. The town was renamed Ionopolis.
Abritus: Town south of the Danube; in marshes nearby, the Goths defeated and killed the Roman emperor Decius in AD251.
Accensus: Secretary of a Roman governor or official.
Achaea: Roman province of Greece.
Achaemenid: Persian dynasty, empire founded by Cyrus the Great c. 550BC, and ended by Alexander the Great 330BC.
Adyton: Greek, inner sanctuary.
Agora: Greek, marketplace and civic centre.
Ala: Unit of Roman auxiliary cavalry; usually around five hundred-, sometimes a thousand-strong; literally, a wing.
Ala II Gallorum: Roman cavalry unit, originally raised in Gaul, stationed at Trapezus on the Black Sea (modern-day Trabzon in Turkey).
Alamanni: Confederation of German tribes.
Alani: Nomadic people north of the Caucasus.
Alazonios: Alazani river in modern Georgia.
Albania: Kingdom to the south of the Caucasus, bordering the Caspian Sea (not to be confused with modern Albania).
Alontas: River in the Caucasus, the modern Terek.
Amastris: Greek town on Black Sea, modern-day town of Amasra in Turkey.
A Memoria: Official responsible for reminding high-status Romans, and especially the emperor, of the names of the people they meet.
Amicitia: Latin, friendship, might be as much political as emotional; opposite of inamicitia.
Amicus: Latin, friend.
Andreia: Greek, courage; literally, man-ness.
Andron: Room(s) reserved for the men in a traditional Greek house; in practice, the functions of rooms may have changed during the course of the day, i.e. the andron may have been occupied by women during much of the day when the men would be out.
Angles: North German tribe, living in the area of modern Denmark.
Aphrodite of Cnidus: Famous nude sculpture of the goddess of love by Praxiteles.
Aquileia: Town in north-eastern Italy, where the emperor Maximinus Thrax was killed in AD238.
Aragos: River in the Caucasus, the modern Aragvi in Georgia.
Argonautica: Greek epic poem of the voyage of Jason and the Argonauts written by Apollonius of Rhodes in the third century BC.
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