Open Access Books: Manual of Roman Everyday Writing Volume 1 and 2

 

Alex Mullen & Alan Bowman, Manual of Roman Everyday Writing. Vol. 1: Scripts and Texts (Nottingham: LatinNow ePubs, 2021).

Anna Willi, Manual of Roman Everyday Writing. Volume 2: Writing Equipment (Nottingham: LatinNow ePubs, 2021).

Recently I came across these two new(ish) open access books on Roman Latin writing and extant writing tools and artifacts. Here is the information about these resources quoted from volume 1.

"The manual is split into two volumes. Vol. 1 prioritizes the reading and understanding of Roman cursive and the documents in which it is found. Vol. 2 provides an overview and catalogue of Roman writing implements, the main writing materials and accessories, and information about archaeological finds, photographs, drawings, and literary and iconographic testimony. It also presents a commentary on the social aspects of literacy and writing." ("Scripts and Texts," pg. 9)

The first volume, Scripts and Texts, focuses on the development of Latin scripts across the various geographical regions. There are ample pictures of artifacts and tables of the various letter forms of the Latin scripts. This volume is valuable for the study of Latin Palaeography.

The second volume, Writing Equipment, contains several excellent essays on the mechanics of writing and composition and the use of ancient writing tools and media. There are ample pictures of extant artifacts that represent these various writing tools. There is an excellent final chapter that consists of quotations from ancient Greek and Roman literary sources that reference the use of writing tools or writing tools and media (pgs. 109-145). Here is just a random sampling of these quotations.

"To whom am I to present my pretty new book, freshly smoothed off with dry pumice-stone?" (Catullus 1.1-2)

"I suppose he has got some ten thousand or even more written out in full, and not, as is often done, put down on used sheets; imperial paper, new rolls, new bosses, red ties, parchment wrappers; all ruled with lead and smoothed with pumice." (Catullus 22.4-8)

"The wretched tablet, which I tire myself out waxing each month, lies orphaned before the bed-post next the wall, except when he looks at it as if it were Hades and writes nothing good but scrapes it all smooth." (Herodas, Mimes 3.14–18) 

"But as ink when handled leaves mark and stain, so ofttimes with unseemly verse poets put a blot on bright exploits." (Horace, Epistles 2.1.235–237) 

"We are informed that there are three kinds of sponge: a thick and very hard and rough one is called goat-thorn sponge, a less thick and softer one loose-sponge, and a thin one of close texture, used for making paint-brushes, Achilles sponge." (Pliny, Natural History 9.148)

"In her right hand she holds her pen, in her left an empty waxen tablet. She begins, then hesitates and stops; writes on and hates what she has written; writes and erases; changes, condemns, approves; by turns she lays her tablets down and takes them up again." (Ovid, Metamorphoses 9.522–525)

These two volumes are excellent open-access resources for those wishing to understand the writing tools, media, composition practices, and mechanics of writing in the Greco-Roman era. I think that it is very useful and valuable that students, professors, teachers, New Testament Textual Critics, and scholars of the New Testament more widely understand these processes in greater detail.

 

 

Roman Bookrolls and Tablets in Kansas City Missouri

Roman Muse Sarcophagus (Nelson Atkins Museum of Art)

Last year I had the opportunity to visit the beautiful Nelson Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City Missouri. If you ever get a chance, it is well worth the visit. Besides displaying famous artists like Monet, they have a modest collection of ancient artifacts, Egyptian, Greek, and Roman. One item in particular is a third century (ca. 240-260 C.E.) Roman marble sarcophagus that is quite striking for its detailed frescos. It is described as a “Muse Sarcophagus.” The museum description reads.

“The deceased, who stands in the center of this high relief, is flanked by five Muses to her right and Minerva with four Muses to her left. The Muses with their customary attributes appear in the following order (from viewer's left to right): Clio, Muse of history, with a scroll; Euterpe, Muse of music, with two flutes; Thalia, Muse of comedy, with shepherd's crook and mask of comedy; Melpomene, Muse of tragedy, with a club and mask of tragedy; Terpsichore, Muse of choral dance, with a lyre; Polyhymnia, Muse of hymns and religious dance; Erato, Muse of lyric and erotic poetry, with a cithara; Urania, Muse of astronomy, with a globe and staff; Calliope, Muse of heroic and epic poetry, with a stylus and tablet. The deceased holds a scroll, and Minerva, a spear. All the figures are standing. A striding griffin appears on each end of the sarcophagus and the back is plain.”

The provenance is given as “Excavated in the Vigna Casali, Rome, 1872.”

When I entered the room where the item was poised, I immediately noticed the stylus and tablet of the figure on the far right corner of the sarcophagus. In the close up images, the edges of the wax tablet are clearly seen. The flat spoon used for smoothing out the wax can be seen opposite the sharp pointed writing edge of the stylus. There also appears to be an ear extending out on the top edge of the tablet that has what looks to be a hole in the center, giving the appearance of a modern clip-board. Perhaps this was used for a lanyard that either allowed the user to carry the tablet, or to tie the boards closed (or perhaps to hang on the wall, see Herculaneum fresco below).

The far left corner represents the muse of history and she is shown holding an open bookroll. The hand clutches the rolled up portion of the volume that would have contained the text already read while the opposite portion of the book would have contained the unread text. What was intriguing about this particular fresco is that it depicts the unread portion of the roll curving back behind the book rather than curving inside towards the user (for example, as shown in the famous Herculaneum painted fresco of a boy holding an open bookroll below). It appears that the book is open to the final portion and the last bit of the roll is folded behind the roll and clasped with the fingers behind the rolled up portion of the volume (see my crudely drawn reconstruction below). The right arm of the history muse is broken off but it may be that the orginal figure had a pen in this hand. The strange way that the roll is being help open would allow for the freedom of the right hand for writing. Just as the poetry muse is writing in the wax tablet in the opposite corner, it may be that the history muse is being portrayed as writing in an open bookroll.

The other aspect of these two figures is the representation of a book and a tablet. It is fascinating that the poetry muse holds the wax tablet, a device that is easily edited and rewritten, while the history muse is holding a roll, an object that carries its own image of refinement, permanence, and legacy (see Pliny's comments here).

The roman woman herself is depicted in the center of the sarcophagus holding a bookroll in her left hand. I noticed that next to her right foot, what looks to be a bookcase with the muse of choral dance (holding a lyre) resting her left foot on the lid. Though the diameter is small, it matches other depictions of book boxes from the roman period (see Herculaneum fresco below).

The Nelson Atkins Museum of Art is definitely worth a visit, be sure to give this fascinating sarcophagus a look! 

Close up detail of muse with wax tablet

Muse with wax tablet on right corner of sarcophagus

The muse of history holding an open bookroll

Close-up detail of muse of history bookroll

Muse of history holding a bookroll

 

 

 

Muse of choral dance with foot on book case (?)

Fresco from Herculaneum showing a youth holding an open bookroll

Fresco from Herculaneum portraying an open book case

Fresco from Herculaneum depicting an ink pot, pen, bookroll with name tag, open wax tablet and stylus, and tablet hanging from nail. Notice the far right tablet that has an ear with hole in the top edge similar to that portrayed on the muse sarcophagus.

Discontinuous Reading and the Christian Codex

Nag Hammadi Codex VI, opened at the center of the quire

The special issue of Early Christianity 12 published the presentations of the conference “The Material Gospel." It was organized by Jeremiah Coogan and David Lincicum and was held at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, on May 31, 2019. I found two of the essays in the issue especially intriguing, Clare K. Rothschild's "Galen’s De indolentia and the Early Christian Codex," and Jeremiah Coogan's "Gospel as Recipe Book."

Rothschild's article gives five reasons for Galen's use of the codex in contrast to the bookroll. First, the codex format allows easy transportability for "repeated non-linear consultation" (pg. 35). Second, "open medium, meaning every page is instantly and equally accessible" to the reader (pg. 35). Third, the codex allows for the introduction of new material anywhere within the codex (pg. 36). Fourth, combining the information in Martial (Epigr. 1.66) with that in Galen's De indolentia indicate that the codex was "also a portable medium, ideal for travel" (pg. 37). Fifth, the codex format was intended more for private use (pg. 37). Applying these insights to the Christian use of the codex, Rothschild concludes,

"If use of the codex, as reflected in Galen’s letter-tractate De indolentia, can be extrapolated to understand early Christian usage of the codex, especially prior to the year 200 CE, we infer a utilitarian over an aesthetic purpose, with the combination of durability (transmissibility), accessibility, expandability, and portability as the format’s compelling attributes." (pg. 37).

Coogan's article compares the features of early Christian codices with features found in contemporary secular documents such as recipe collections and magical texts. Each of these share a common approach at accessing the material through discontinuous reading. What this means is that users of these texts do not read the material straight through from beginning to end. Instead, the texts are engaged with at various points where needed. Coogan compares the way a modern reader would engage with a phone book or dictionary as opposed to a novel or news article. The dictionary or phone book is accessed at various points wherever the relevant material is located in the text. Whereas a novel or news article would be read from beginning to end (pg. 41-42). Coogan concludes by arguing that,

"gospel codices invited nonlinear access and performative use in ways that paralleled other late ancient practical texts, such as ritual formularies, medical recipes, and agricultural manuals" (pg. 58).

I agree with Rothschild and Coogan that Christians seem to have preferred the Codex format for practical reasons. Along with the historical references found in Martial and Galen, there are theological considerations that may be behind the Christian preference. The two letters to Timothy in particular have several references to the study of the scriptures. In each of these passages, it is the practical application and teaching that is stressed.

"Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching." (1 Tim 4:13, ESV)

"Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching." (1 Tim 5:17, ESV)

"Follow the pattern of the sound words that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." (2 Tim 1:13, ESV)

"and what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also." (2 Tim 2:2, ESV)

"Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth." (2 Tim 2:15, ESV)

"All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work." (2 Tim 3:16-17, ESV)

Each of these references combine the study of the scriptures with the teaching of the scriptures. This teaching and preaching includes exhortation to action and service (Hebrews 10:24-25). These are very practical and dynamic settings that would likely necessitate the discontinuous reading of the Christian scriptures. The letters to Timothy are likely Paul's last letters, setting the tone of ministry for Timothy to carry forward to the next generation and for generations to come. The second letter of Peter, also likely written at the end of his life, already made reference to a collection of Paul's letters. Peter's reference to Paul's letters appears to be in the context of study and teaching.

"And count the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as our beloved brother Paul also wrote to you according to the wisdom given him, as he does in all his letters when he speaks in them of these matters. There are some things in them that are hard to understand, which the ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction, as they do the other Scriptures." (2 Pt 3:15-16, ESV)

Bookrolls could certainly be navigated for discontinuous reading by those adept to their use. Yet, the codex format is particularly useful for this type of access. Of course, the Jewish synagogue also had similar practical uses for their scriptures (teaching and exhortation), yet continued to read from bookrolls. Christian practice was different in that it was more mobile, with itinerate preaching (Col. 4:16), and less tied to a specific location, such as house Churches (Acts 1:13; 2:2, 46; 12:12) or meeting in public places (Acts 17:17; 19:9), than one would find in the Jewish Synagogue. This would seem to make the codex more inviting for discontinuous reading and study than the bookroll. 
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For earlier blog posts on the early Christian preference for the codex see the following links,

The Textual Mechanic: Revisiting the Shift from the Roll to the Codex Book Form

The Textual Mechanic: From Scroll to Codex: Early Christian Book Technology

The Christian Codex And The Pocket Sized Bookroll

Scholars often attribute the compactness and portability of a codex as the impetus for Christians to have adopted this format for their scriptures at an early date. For example, the itinerate preaching of the early apostles and evangelists could have necessitated the compactness and portability of the codex over the roll (Epp, "The Codex," 20-22). As is often counter argued, these types of modern attitudes towards the codex are likely influenced by anachronistic ideas about the book (Larsen and Letteney, "Christians and the Codex," 390-391). With this in mind I came across a few references in Aulus Gellius's Attic Nights (2nd cen. CE) that shed light on the alleged portability of the codex verses the roll.

In Gellius's account, Scipio Africanus was being accused in front of the senate of taking a bribe from King Antiochus. In response to this Gellius recounts,

"Thereupon Scipio arose, and taking a roll from the fold of his toga, said that it contained an account of all the money and all the booty; that he had brought it to be publicly read and deposited in the treasury. "But that," said he, "I shall not do now, nor will I so degrade myself." And at once, before them all, he tore the roll across with his own hands and rent it into bits, indignant that an account of money taken in war should be required of him, to whose account the salvation of the Roman State and its power ought to be credited." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 4.18.9-12)

In this account, Scipio wasn't carrying a proper bookroll containing a lengthy literary work. It appeared to be some sort of leger of smaller size because Scipio was able to tear it into shreds fairly easily. This would have been much more difficult for a normal full-sized literary roll.

Later in the work, Gellius recounts a personal story in which he was in a book shop and a "foolish man" was boasting that he was the only person who could truly understand Marcus Varro's Satires.

"At the time I chanced to have with me a book of those Satires, entitled Ὑδροκύων, or The Water Dog. I therefore went up to him and said: "Master, of course you know that old Greek saying, that music, if it be hidden, is of no account.​ I beg you therefore to read these few lines and tell me the meaning of the proverb contained in them." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 13.31.2-3)

This account is a fascinating retelling of a duel of minds, with Gellius exposing the "foolish man's" ignorance of the text. In this instance, the bookroll carried by Gellius was a proper roll containing literature. Thus, in the same manner as Scipio, Gellius was able to carry this roll on his person and produce it quickly and rapidly find the relevant passage with ease.

Later in his work, Gellius recounts a story in which a bright young man was having a conversation in a public space about an historical fact concerning a passage in Homer's Illiad. Some "half educated fellows" were present and ignorantly interjected themselves into the conversation.

"One or two half-educated fellows who were present there, of the class that the Greeks call ἀγοραῖοι, or “haunters of the market-place,” laughed in derision of this statement, and declared that the man who had made it had read a copy of Homer which happened to lack the following verse: "And rotted the ship's timbers, loosed the ropes (σπάρτα)." Then the youth, in great vexation, replied: “It was not my book that lacked that line, but you who badly lacked a teacher, if you believe that σπάρτα in that verse means what we call spartum, or 'a rope of Spanish broom'.” They only laughed the louder, and would have continued to do so, had he not produced the twenty-fifth book of Varro's Human Antiquities, in which Varro writes as follows of that Homeric word: “I believe that σπάρτα in Homer does not mean sparta, or 'Spanish broom,' but rather σπάρτοι, a kind of broom which is said to grow in the Theban territory. " (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 17.3)

In this account, it is not exactly clear where the story takes place. Judging by the description of the "half-educated fellows" it likely occurred in a public marketplace of some kind. The bright young man happened to be carrying a roll that contained a copy of the twenty-fifth book of Marcus Varro's Human Antiquities. This was a literary work written in a bookroll and the youth had no problem finding the relevant passage quickly and producing it for the other "foolish-men" to read for themselves.

In each of these cases recounted by Gellius, a bookroll was easily carried by the hero of the story. The relevant passage was quickly located and produced for the protagonist to read for themselves. Though limited in scope, this evidence reveals the anachronistic tendencies of modern arguments for the Christian preference for the codex. It seems that an educated itinerant preacher would have had no problem carrying a gospel in a roll format, producing it during an evangelism event, and finding a relevant gospel passage from which to engage with the listeners.

EDIT: A reader of the blog, Viktor Johansson, responded with some excellent observations through private message. Some important objections to my quick take on Gellius, especially concerning the account at 17.3, are these: 

First, I can't assume that the discussion with the educated young man takes place in a marketplace outdoors. This account could have just as easily occurred in a personal library or outside of a public library where texts like Varro's would have been readily available.

Second, and most importantly of all, because the heroes of these stories are educated well-to-do men, they most likely had a retinue of slaves at hand with them. These would have been invisible in the story. Any one of these attendants could have gone and fetched the book for the protagonist either from the location at hand (in a public or private library) or had been carrying it upon their persons.

All in all, this excellent response reveals my own anachronistic assumptions that I bring to the text of Gellius. At best these accounts from Gellius reveal that educated men in the high Roman empire were adept at handling a bookroll and could easily find the relevant passage a roll.

EDIT#2: Johansson responded again with some more excellent observations on these passages in Attic Nights. Gellius, speaking in the first person, recounts a scene where he visits Fronto who was sick and sitting on a couch "surrounded by men famous for learning, birth, or fortune." In the middle of this scene, Fronto is being shown plans for a bath "drawn on little pieces of parchment." A dispute suddenly arises over the meaning of a word that Fronto uses. To settle the matter, a famous grammarian sitting nearby is pointed out. The grammarian argues that the word is "better known in the talk of mechanics than in that of cultivated men." Fronto replied in the following manner.

"But Fronto, raising his voice and with a more earnest expression, said: “Sir, does this word seem to you so degraded and utterly faulty, when Marcus Cato and Marcus Varro, and the early writers in general, have used it as necessary and as good Latin?” And thereupon Julius Celsinus reminded him that also in the tragedy of Ennius entitled Iphigeina the very word about which we were inquiring was found, and that it was more frequently corrupted by the grammarians than explained. Consequently, he at once asked that the Iphigenia of Quintus Ennius be brought and in a chorus of that tragedy we read these lines: . . .When this had been read there, then Fronto said to the grammarian, who was already wavering . . . ." (Gellius, Noctes Atticae, 19.10)

This account is fascinating and should be read in its entirety. I only wanted to quote the relevant few lines here because they paint a vivid picture of the scene. Fronto is ill, surrounded by many educated men in his private home. A dispute arises with a grammarian and Fronto asks his attendants (not mentioned up to this point) to fetch a specific book of literature. Gellius doesn't specify who reads the text, whether Fronto himself or an attendant, or perhaps the grammarian himself. Either way it appears that the text was read out loud to everyone present. This account sheds light on the other reading events quoted above, especially at 17.3. It is possible that these events took place in a similar situation as 19.10 with attendants present and in a location with books readily available.

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Eldon J. Epp, "The Codex and Literacy in Early Christianity and at Oxyrhynchus: Issues Raised by Harry Y. Gamble’s Books and Readers in the Early Church" in Critical Review of Books in Religion 11 (1988): 15-37.

Matthew D. C. Larsen, Mark Letteney, "Christians and the Codex: Generic Materiality and Early Gospel Traditions" in Journal of Early Christian Studies 27.3 (2019): 383-415.

William A. Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study of Elite Communities (New York: Oxford University Press, 2010), 129 footnote 54.

Book Review: The Pauline Corpus in Early Christianity by Benjamin Laird

The Pauline Corpus in Early Christianity: Its Formation, Publication, and Circulation. By Benjamin P. Laird. Peabody: Hendrickson Academic, 2022, xx + 371 pp., $59.99 hardback.

Investigations into the theology of the Pauline corpus abound, yet few studies have examined the historical circumstances that gave rise to the Pauline corpus as a letter collection. The Pauline Corpus in Early Christianity is a fresh in-depth analysis of the historical evidence, both physical and literary, into the development of the Pauline letter collection. Benjamin P. Laird (PhD University of Aberdeen) is Associate Professor of Biblical Studies at the John W. Rawlings School of Divinity at Liberty University in Lynchburg, Virginia.

This book is an expanded and revised version of Laird's doctoral thesis. It is composed of an introduction, six chapters, and three appendices.

The introduction begins by highlighting the fact that Paul preferred personal interaction to letter writing, yet Paul is known today through his extant letters (pp. 1-3). Paul's epistles were likely the earliest Christian writings to be valued, circulated and collected (p. 3). After a summary of the contents (pp. 4-9), Laird concludes by discussing the challenges to this study (pp. 10-11) and the wider implications that this volume might have on Pauline scholarship (pp. 11-15).

Chapter 1 examines first century letter writing practices in the Greco-Roman world (pp. 19-31). This chapter advances the notion put forward by several recent studies that Paul worked with secretaries in the writing of his letters (pp. 31-34). Along with this, these secretaries made duplicate copies for Paul's personal collection or those of his associates (pp. 34-39). It is likely that these personal collections were the source from which an early edition of the Pauline corpus was produced.

Chapter 2 looks into the extant Greek textual witnesses (pp. 40-64) and ancient translations relating to the earliest state of the Pauline collection (pp. 89-101). As a corollary to the discussion, the advent of the codex book form and its rapid adoption within Christian communities (pp. 64-73), and the origin and use of the letter titles are examined (pp. 73-89). Along with this, early testimony from historical figures such as Marcion, Origen, Eusebius, Athenasius, the Muratorion Fragment, and Church councils are taken into account (pp. 101-112).

Chapter 3 delves into a diversity of writings written from the late-first through to the early-fifth centuries. The familiarity these authors had with the various Pauline epistles is ascertained and weighed (pp. 123-189). References from 1 Thess 5:27, Col 4:16, and 2 Peter 3:15-16 are analyzed for the light they might shed on the development of the Pauline canon (pp. 113-123). Most of the chapter is given up to culling through Patristic references to the Pauline writings (pp. 123-189).

Chapter 4 investigates the external evidence for the Pastoral Epistles and Hebrews. Laird wrestles with the various scholarly challenges to the authenticity of Hebrews (pp. 202-232) and the Pastorals (p. 190-202) and their canonical relationship to the undisputed letters. According to Laird, the Pastorals and Hebrews have a more tumultuous reception history when compared with the rest of the Pauline corpus. Larid proposes that "the text of Hebrews was a Pauline speech that was later produced as a literary document" (p. 233).

Chapter 5 surveys and evaluates the many influential scholarly theories that attempt to account for the initial development and acceptance of the Pauline canon. These theories are separated into four categories, The first includes those theories that propose a formation of the collection after long years of neglect or limited circulation (pp. 236-241). The second category includes theories that generally postulate that the collection developed gradually as new writings were produced and the writings became more well known (pp. 241-261). The third category contains theories that hold to a gradual development by a Pauline school that may have had a hand in writing pseudepigraphal letters in Paul's name (pp. 261-268). The fourth and final category includes theories that hold to an early development, circulation and collection of Paul's letters (268-278). This collection was initially organized by Paul himself shortly before his death or immediately after his death by his close associates.

Chapter 6 provides an overview of the formation, publication, and circulation of the Pauline letter collection. The chapter identifies the earliest editions of the corpus that circulated and standardized the letter titles and the orientation of the writings with reference to each other within the collection (pp. 280-317). The theory proposed in this chapter takes into account both the external and internal evidence laid out in the previous chapters. The main proposal is this,

"[A]t least three major archetypal editions of the corpus began to circulate as early as the first century or soon thereafter, each of which circulated for several decades until a fourteen-volume edition became widely recognized by the fourth century." (p. 9).

There are a few places where the discussion and evidence do not seem to support some of the conclusions. First is the idea that the letters must have by necessity been bound together in a type of edition for the Pauline epistles to have been recognized and the titles of the epistles to have been standardized. This does not actually accord with the manner in which books were conceptualized in antiquity. In the Greco-Roman world a written piece was often composed of separate and unbound rolls. It was not uncommon for a reader to possess only some of the bookrolls. Nevertheless, these other bookrolls were still conceptually linked in the mind of the reader as a complete work. This can be illustrated with P. Oxy 2192. In this papyrus fragment in a postscript the sender of the letter makes a request. 

"Have a copy made of books six and seven of Hypsicrates’ Men Who Appear in Commedies and send it to me. Harpocration says that Pollio has them among his books, and probably others may have them too. And he also has prose epitomes of Thersagorus’s Myths of Tragedy.” 

Here the writer of the postscript conceptually links all the books (i.e. separate bookrolls) of Hypsicrates’ Men Who Appear in Commedies even though they are not physically bound together with his own copies of books one through five (assuming he possessed them already). Another example are the titles to the canonical gospels. P.Bodmer II (P66) is a codex that only contains the Gospel of John and has ευαγγελιον κατα ιωαννην written at the top. This title conceptually links this gospel with the other three even though it is not physically bound together with the other three in a single codex. 

Further still, the titles themselves could have been standardized by use and convention organically through circulation without having to have been derived from a single official edition with the letters physically bound together. The titles could have been derived from the addressees written on the backs of the letters (see previous post). The titles might have derived from the letter carrier as directed by Paul himself, perhaps when it was read out before the congregation. In either case, none of this necessitates that the letters be physically bound within a single codex or edition for them to be conceptually linked by the apostle Peter in 2 Peter 3:15-16. Just as the writer of the postscript in P.Oxy 2192 conceptually links all the separate bookrolls of Hypsicrate's woks, Peter could have conceptually linked all of the extant letters of Paul that were not physically bound together. These factors seem to nullify the need for postulating various bound editions with seven, ten, thirteen, or fourteen letters contained in a single codex. Despite this, Laird is careful to note that an officially published edition of Paul's epistle do not negate the fact that the letters also circulated amongst the various Christian communities for a time (p. 316).

Despite the criticisms noted above, Laird provides an exhaustive look into all the physical and literary evidence for the Pauline letter collection. Though there is disagreement with the necessity for an official edition of the Pauline epistles, it is likely that such an edition did arise. The most compelling argument made in the book is the notion that Hebrews was likely an oral speech by Paul that was taken down and prepared for publication by Luke or another of Paul's associates (pp. 225-234). This appears to take into account all of the available evidence and best explains the early acceptance of Hebrews and its close connection with Paul from an early period. Despite some minor criticisms mentioned above, Laird's monograph is an excellent resource that contains all of the evidence for the circulation of the Pauline canon in a ready handbook.

Timothy N. Mitchell

PhD, University of Birmingham, UK

Cicero On Repairing His Damaged Books

Repairing a loose fragment of P.Oxy 3203 using small ‘tabs’ applied with tweezers.
Image from the British Museum Blog
Faith after the pharaohs: Egyptian papyri conservation - British Museum Blog

I have written elsewhere of the various circumstances that could shorten the useful life of ancient books (See Here). Not only could books be outright destroyed, ancient documents could be damaged by use and environment to such an extend as to be almost unusable (See Previous Post Here). Cicero (106 BCE-43 BCE), was sent into exile to Thessalonica by a law introduced by Publius Clodius Pulcher. In his absence, Cicero's library had been damaged, dispersed, and a portion of it possibly destroyed (Houston, 218). Upon his return from exile, he began to re-assemble and repair his library. In order to do this, Cicero aquired the services of the Greek Scholar Tyrannio of Amisus. Cicero also turned to his friend Atticus, asking him to send slaves that could repair damaged papyrus and parchment, and to attach titles to rolls.

"It will be delightful if you come to see us here. You will find that Tyrannio has made a wonderfully good arrangement of my books, the remains of which are better than I had expected. Still, I wish you would send me a couple of your library slaves for Tyrannio to employ as gluers, and in other subordinate work, and tell them to get some fine parchment to make title-pieces, which you Greeks, I think, call "sillybi." But all this is only if not inconvenient to you. In any case, be sure you come yourself, if you can halt for a while in such a place, and can persuade Pilia to accompany you. For that is only fair, and Tullia is anxious that she should come. My word! You have purchased a fine troop! Your gladiators, I am told, fight superbly. If you had chosen to let them out you would have cleared your expenses by the last two spectacles. But we will talk about this later on. Be sure to come, and, as you love me, see about the library slaves." (Att. 4.4b)

From this interchange it can be seen that the care of a library in antiquity took a considerable amount of work by scholars and slaves alike. It goes to show how precious and valuable it is that we have so many manuscripts that have survived (in various states of completion) from antiquity.

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English translation of Cicero's letter to Atticus by Evelyn Shuckburgh
Letters to Atticus/4.4b - Wikisource, the free online library

Houston, George W. Inside Roman Libraries: Book Collections and Their Management in Antiquity (Chapel Hill: UNC Press, 2014)

The Philosopher and the Tightly Wound Bookroll

My father, who has been reading through the moral letters of Seneca the Younger, alerted me to an interesting passage in Seneca's Letter 95 (ca. 65 AD). In this epistle Seneca is trying to explain a particular aspect of philosophy that Lucilius, the recipient of the work, had asked Seneca to expound upon. He begins the epistle with tongue-in-cheek that Lucilius may be requesting something that he does not really want. To illustrate this Seneca gives an example he thought that Lucilius could relate with (and probably many educated Romans at the time).

"There are many things that we would have men think that we wish, but that we really do not wish. A lecturer sometimes brings upon the platform a huge work of research, written in the tiniest hand and very closely folded; after reading off a large portion, he says: "I shall stop if you wish;" and a shout arises: "Read on, read on!" from the lips of those who are anxious for the speaker to hold his peace then and there." (Ep. 95.2)

The portion of the illustration that I zeroed in upon had to do with the description of the "research" that was being read by the lecturer. I give it in English and in the Latin below.

"A lecturer sometimes brings upon the platform a huge work of research, written in the tiniest hand and very closely folded"
"Recitator historiam ingentem attulit minutissime scriptam, artissime plicatam."

When I first read this reference I immediately wondered if Seneca could be describing a codex. The English translation states that the book was "closely folded," which gives the impression of folded pages. At first glance, this wording gives the impression of a compact, tightly folded codex that was written in a small script. This English translation is not unlike the phrase Martial uses to describe a codex.

"You who wish my poems should be everywhere with you, and look to have them as companions on a long journey, buy these which the parchment confines in small pages. Assign your book-boxes to the great; this copy of me one hand can grasp."
"Et comites longae quaeris habere viae, Hos eme, quos artat brevibus membrane tabellis: Scrinia da magnis, me manus una capit." (Epigr. 1.2)

It is pretty clear that Martial is referring to a parchment codex that is compact in size and contains a great deal of written material. His use of "brevibus membrane tabellis" makes this explicit as "membrana" is referring specifically to it's material, animal skin, and also it's form. Quintilian, uses the same word for his obvious description of a parchment codex in Institutio Oratoria 10.3.31. Martial also employs the word "tabellis" which was a common term for the ancient writing tablet.

On a closer examination however, it appears that Seneca does have a Roman bookroll in view. He uses the term "historiam," which is obviously the classic term used for a work of history and this type of work would have been more at home in the Roman bookroll in the first century. Most interesting is that Seneca is attempting to describe the density and detail of this work of literature.

First, by noting that the script is written in a small hand, "minutissime scriptam," which means that more written material could fit in the physical medium of the book.

Second, he indicates that the book is, "artissime plicatam." The adverb "artissime" is the superlative form of "artus," having the meaning of; close, strait, narrow, confined, short, brief. Together with the verb, "plicatam," the perfect passive participle of "plico"; to fold, to lay or wind together, to fold up, double up. The translator chose to use the sense of "folding," yet the verb can also have the sense of "coiling" or "winding" like a snake. Thus the verb can be used to described the coiling up action of winding a bookroll.

These descriptors help to paint the picture of a very large quantity of research material almost forcefully confined within a single bookroll by using very small handwriting, and tightly winding the parchment into a compact bookroll. When compared with the description Martial gives for the codex, this history looks to have been an unwieldy object!

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Martial, Epigrams (Walter C. A. Ker, trans. Vol. 1. LCL. London: William Heinemann, 1919).

Seneca the Younger, Ad Lucilium Epistulae Morales (Richard M. Gummere, trans. Vol. 3. LCL. London: William Heinemann, 1925).

The Latin definitions are derived from;

A Latin Dictionary. Founded on Andrews' edition of Freund's Latin dictionary. revised, enlarged, and in great part rewritten by. Charlton T. Lewis, Ph.D. and. Charles Short, LL.D. Oxford. Clarendon Press. 1879.

Which can be access here.