Rick Sumner

Not exactly. You seem to think I'm on some hobby horse to that effect. I'm still not entirely sure where you got that construct from.

The present discussion came from a discussion of why there is so much rancour in the debate surrounding Jesus' historicity. What I took issue with (and led to the present discussion) was that your post--which I fundamentally agree with in the main--suggested appeals to plausibility have no place here.

I disagree. I think appeals to certainty have no place.

I requested the thread split for a reason. Though by then the focus had already shifted.

While I obviously have a destination in mind, my interest in how you address the problem is sincere. It's a matter of trying to flesh out where the lines are--how "known" does it have to be, how far from the "known" can we move in our speculation and so on. That is, after all, the principle thing I dispute--where the line is.

I'm genuinely doing my level best not to anticipate your responses. Any excercise like this is going to have someone driving. It's inevitable. That doesn't preclude productivity.

Unfortunately the only thing that meets this criteria that we both possess enough familiarity with to really engage is a subject we've already drawn battle lines in, as one can see easily enough by scrolling up. So it's not going to do much to further discussion on historiography. It would seem we're far more likely to engage the epistemological problems if that is our end rather than our beginning; if we use that dilemma to sharpen our insights, but forge the steel at another blacksmith.

spin

Not much here requiring anything, Rick. So pardon the repetittiveness of my response.
Plausibility is still no grounds in itself for the basic ontology of a field of history.

Without that knowledge base, that ontology, you have no known to push the boundaries of with literary data. Once you establish that base, which indicates that you have something real to analyse, then the evaluation of literary remains starts to become significant. Without such a... umm,... tether, you are merely doing a species of literary criticism.

You're still in that vehicle which is on a road that doesn't allure me. Your windows are up and you're speeding along and I'm half-heartedly watching you pass. Isn't it time for Sam and Dean?


spin

Celsus

Ok, having read Aichele et al now, and Van Seters response, I'll confess to having more sympathy with Van Seters than the Elephant authors, partly because Van Seters rightly points out that "historical-critical and postmodernist approaches are not symmetrical partners for a conversation." This of course refers to Aichele et al's postmodernism, as an attitude or stance (to which I share), whereas historical criticism ideally is a methodology or epistemology and in fact can be many things and done in many ways, which is a similar problem to trying to define "postmodernism". This seemingly minor equivocation really undoes their good arguments because I think these have been ignored as a result - especially on the nature of theory construction.

That's why I term myself an anti-realist as opposed to anything else, to emphasise my opposition to modernist historical criticism is a methodological one, perhaps motivated by a skeptical, postmodern stance, but fundamentally one about method, such as the problems of induction, underdetermination, fecundity, and other scientific issues. Intersubjectivity and the reading of texts (to which postmodernists like Derrida are extremely helpful) are but one small part of this range of issues about historical method that aren't taken seriously enough by many mainstream historical approaches.

Aichele et al are right that without postmodernisms institutional systems of thought might get away with their own constructions of myth, and they are also right that these constructions are always done in order to portray them as natural. Within the modernist historical schools, debates then tends towards ideological positions - as illustrated by the MJ/HJ debate, presumably with unquestioning methodologies that are assumed to be quite similar (since the HJ version is shorn of the miraculous and no longer requires the authority of canon or the interventions of God in their argument).

But the greater question of what fundamentally can be derived from texts is troubling. We all rely on texts, and histories are always written as texts. The author's intention, in writing the texts we read as histories, is often explicit, the methodologies laid out and the objectives clear. But 2,000 or more years ago, such things are not. We then require a theory of the author's epistemology and ideology in which to rely upon when drawing out what we need from their text. Sometimes we have help in this regard - through archaeology that allows us to correlate or eliminate alternatives. Other times we do not. This nested problem of theory within theory within theory is at the root of my contention of history as anti-realist. You can call it pomo as you want but I didn't need Derrida to come up with it.

What is problematic about Aichele et al's position, deploying postmodernism as a stance, is that (1) many people already do it (but perhaps not as symmetrically applied as they would wish) and (2) it's not clear what a methodology's direction would be if only defined in opposition to historical criticism. They rightly identify the troubling problem that postmodernism cannot exist without modernism, but then suggest these as poles in a debate. But they shouldn't be poles: postmodernism is rather a check on the moving target that always ends up being defined as 'modernist', whether it is in science or history or literature. Most pomos don't even know what positivism is anymore, so conflated have they made the Austrian positivist school with everything that goes on in science, and scientific defenders harp on this to illustrate the ignorance of pomos in order to justify their own positions. The truth is that the target of modernisms are always moving - positivism still exists, but not in the form of modernism of the 1920s.

Historical criticism likewise, despite the longstanding philosophical positions often appealed to, has methodologically moved leaps and bounds from Schweitzer and Bultmann. But the postmodern critique applies as much to them as it does to Crossan or Ehrman - not because they use the same methodologies, but because postmodernism is always there to question the truths of the day, of the modern. This problem tells us something about where the poles (if applicable at all) should be in the debate. It says much about the instrumentalist nature of theory, and rather less about the nature of truth.

Rick Sumner

Interpretation of archaeological remains falls prey to the same criticism. For an example more to your field, look at the female drummer statues. They don't get quite the same perspective they did a relatively short time ago. The ultra-feminist intrepretations that once seemed self-evident now seem revisionist.

All the evidence in the world doesn't get you away from the fundamental criticism: You have no way of knowing if evidence makes it more likely to be true. Only that it seems more likely to be true. More specifically, it seems more likely to be true to you, based on your standard of evidence and your expectations of plausible speculation.

That criticism applies identically to any historical narrative. The only thing that makes your speculation better is your say-so, unless you have some objective, quantifiable standard the rest of the world is unaware of.

To paraphrase Borg, all history is "true," and some of it actually happened. But it is only "true" to the historian, and (at least he hopes) the eyes of his audience. If that audience shifts, "truth" goes with it. And all the "tethering" to the "known" in the world won't preclude that. You have no real claim to greater certainty.

This might have more force if the distinction you imply exists really did.

spin

This seems to me to be an effort in taking history out of your own grasp. How do you deal with coins issued by Augustus and/or the various statues from various points in his life and/or inscriptions either made by him or by his contemporaries that mention him? You can try to argue that despite the contextualisation of each item these things may not be what they appear to be, but you would ultimately be falling away from historical into philosophical issues that have little in themselves to do with history, but with the problem of knowledge in general.


spin

Rick Sumner

We're dealing with two separate issues. One is the question of whether and when speculation is justified. The other is whether or not we can make statements of fact. It's why I moved to Alexander's wedding.

We aren't speculating about whether or not Augustus lived. It's why the analogy doesn't work. You suggest there are times that speculation is warranted. I suggest that if you're in for a penny you're in for a pound, because you can't objectively tell what speculation is good and what isn't.

The existence of Augustus is a bad example of that in action, because you aren't speculating. Or at least aren't speculating in the same sense you are if you suggest a reason Alexander married Stateira II. Or a location for the authorship of the DSS.

It might help if you provided me a specific example of when you think speculation is justified. Or we can use an example you've already given--the Dead Sea texts are from the temple library.

As to it being a problem of knowledge, you acknowledge the problem's existence, but then only apply it where it works in your favour. Or at least that's how it appears to me. That is fundamentally the nature of the present dispute.

It's why the Alexander example I wanted to go with would have worked so nicely. As noted in my reply to Celsus, almost all of us will agree that there is a huge distinction between two very similar claims. It's a point where we all draw the line, but none of us would be able to explain--objectively--why we do so.

As an aside, I looked into the "tell from different parts of his life," because it gets repeated here a lot. Usually in the context of Julius Caesar. For Caesar it isn't true. The depictions on coins are at best erratic, and we only have one bust that was likely sculpted in Caesar's lifetime. Compounding the problem is semblence both bust and coinage have to deities. Worse still, that type of syncretism ran both ways in Rome--Gods were depicted in the likeness of the princeps at least as often as the other way 'round.

We make an educated guess about what Caesar looked like at various stages in his life. We don't know for sure. Our guesses aren't even based on anything terribly solid. If you think you know what he looked like, it's because you're speculating.

It might save me some digging if you could provide some specific artefacts in the case of Augustus. At least then I know specifically what to investigate. Though it might bear noting from the outset that Augustus frequently bears a startling resemblence to Alexander. Usually when they're copying earlier art. I'm not sure anyone was that interested in shownig us what Augustus really looked like.

ETA

On further reflection, I'm going to take this a step further. Given what we know about Roman imperial art, statues in Graeco-Roman times generally, and the frequent artistic conflation of Augustus with Alexander, I'll suggest that realistically we don't know what Augustus looked like at any stage of his life.

What we see in Roman art is an artistic conception of a paragon, that is based on Augustus. It's not simply that it isn't necessarily a valid representation of Augustus' likeness, it isn't intended to be, and that, on reflection, should have been evident to me in my notes above. The artist intends to show us greatness, authority, leadership. It's--rather obviously once we consider epigraphic evidence as well--the Divine Augustus, as much (or even more) than it is the depiction of the first emperor of Rome. I'd be willing to wager that--armed only with the depictions found in remains--we probably couldn't pick Augustus out of a crowd.

If you truly think you can state confidently that we can watch Augustus age in Roman art, then you're doing what you condemn. Speculating. The only thing that ages is the imperial conception of Augustus.

spin

Oh yes you are. That's where the discussion started and you have repeatedly been trying to duck out of the issue. It's Augustus and Julius and Vespasian and Hadrian. It's establishing an ontology as a bed of reference for further discussion. Until you can deal with this you're going to beat yourself up trying to say something meaningful.

It's a bad example for you, and I'm trying to keep you focused on where this discussion came from, because you are trying to get out of having the starting prerequisites.

You don't need justification to speculate. To do history you need the tether.

You keep wanting to talk about anything other than the christian literature and how one can do history with it.

The Dead Sea scrolls present their own historical quandaries. They will only lead into further tangents.

This is an interesting attempt at a turn around. You have attempted to shift the discussion away from history into a species of not being able to know anything and you are now attempting to project the issue onto me.

Dressing a statue up is one thing, you need to look at the features to see them change with age as the person represented grows older. You can do this with the statuary of Augustus. I chose Augustus for this reason. That may be why you chose to talk about the statuary of Caesar instead.

The coinage is not usually an issue of who is represented on them, but of the historical information they convey, what the politician wanted to propagandize. There is direct historical material about people and events.



The statues available here might be a starter (though some were clearly not based on him at all). Can you see a startling resemblence to Alexander? Didn't think so. Go from these to the wonderfully preserved reliefs on the Ara Pacis (they're on display in a pavilion by the Tevere: go to Google maps satellite view and type in "Ara Pacis" and choose D, and you'll see the form of the Mausoleum of Augustus to the east). You get the extended family which you can compare with individual statues.

But then I'd just say that you are clueless.

Some of this you may be right about.

I think you'd lose your wager, but then you're pretty safe from getting the opportunity.

Perhaps you should investigate the available material before making any comments.


spin

Rick Sumner

Just wanted to touch on this one a little, because I just happened on a neat example of it in action, while re-reading NT Wright's The New Testament and the People of God.

In the preface, Wright offers us a brief explanation of his use of the term "story," an explanation that would fit nicely in the pages of any discussion of "post-modern" historiography.

He then goes on to explain the problems of subjectivity. He often tells his classes, he says, that everything he says may well be wrong. That if he knew why he might do something to fix it, but it's impossible to know every presupposition, every bias, that shapes his work. He implies both here and throughout his text, that his "story" is at best and inherently partly autobiographical. That his reconstruction belongs to a specific milieu--his milieu--every bit as much as his history hopes to fit the milieu of the first century.

Despite this, Wright assures us (much like spin) that he is no post-modernist. Perish the thought. He just uses post-modern insights to sharpen his "critical-realist" perspective. It's born, in part, of post-modernist criticisms. But post-modern? God forbid! There's that line again, always in front of the speaker.

The reality of it is that, as you note, "many" (I'd say "most") of us already do it. Critical enterprises that cannot, by some definition and to some degree, be grouped under a "post-modern" banner just seem quaintly naive now. Blindly trusting of things most would now think we should view with a jaundiced eye.

But the term itself has a sort of euphemistic pejorative connotation to it. Post-modernists are those ultra-feminists. The socialists. Ideology masquerading as insight, and empty statements hiding behind gibberish. Just look at Sokal!

Dropping the term would probably--at least help--drop the pejorative connotations associated with it, and forward the discussion a great deal.

Rick Sumner

Apologies for the delay in response. I'll get the above portion when I have more time to engage it. Been quite busy.

Unfortunately, while those statues might be a good start, they might not be too. And, indeed, you note yourself that some of it won't help me at all, not being of Augustus. It's not helping me much here.

More what I have in mind is a specific chain of statuary, and their chronology. Surely you have such a list in mind if you're making such a bold claim about what we can see in it?

And that handy qualifier that doubles as an abstract quantifier--"some"--kind of precludes your question about semblance to Alexander. Unless you'd suggest that "some" is inaccurate, it's not really relevant.

Though I'm mildly insulted that you think I haven't seen the Ara Pacis. I'm at least equally amused that you seem to think that the intent of the sculptor is to give an accurate picture of anyone there, least of all Augustus. We can use it to identify other statues, and indeed compare the art, but not much more than that. It's agenda is--quite overtly--political and (by extension in the Pax Augusta) religious. Somewhat ironically, you would be hard-pressed to find art better suited to my claims, not yours.

For a wonderful discussion on the role of the imperial cult and the Augustan Golden Age in the Ara Pacis, see Holliday, "Time, History, and Ritual on the Ara Pacis Augustae," The Art Bulletin, Vol. 72, No. 4 (Dec., 1990), pp. 542-557

The piece is available online at:

http://courses.knox.edu/latin212/Holliday_AraPacis.pdf

There's no "may" about it. Statuary simply wasn't intended to function in the way you're applying it. Not just imperial statues (or republican statues, if we let Augustus have his way for the moment), but all statues. They weren't pictures, they were intended to tell a story to every bit the degree Virgil or Horace were. Just in a different way. They're art, not photography.

For an excellent discussion I just closed the cover on, see Stewart, Statues in Roman Society (or via: amazon.co.uk) (OUP, 2003).

The argument (which you put out a lot) is starting to look to me like one you get away with because nobody has called you on it. We'll see though, still researching. Might take a bit to get entirely to the bottom of it, since I must confess that while the Age of Augustus is fascinating, Augustus himself bores me to tears. It's like reading a theoretical reconstruction of a Commons discussion on a land bill.

If you want to see "age" in statuary, take a look at the Barberini Togatas. Augustus never ages in the same sense. The entire style has, in fact, been described as an "ageless classicizing style." (Susan Treggiari, note to figure 4, "Women in the Time of Augustus" in Galinsky (ed) The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Augustus (or via: amazon.co.uk), commenting on a statue of Livia as sharing the Augustan style).

But either way, I'm not "pretty safe" because of chronology so much as neurology. You don't recognize faces with the same part of your brain when they're statues vs. actual. Subtle slips of the chisel would stick out like a sore thumb with flesh over them.

Perhaps I should. And indeed have every intention of doing so.

But I'm beginning to suspect you should do the same. You might be right about what we can see in the statuary, time will tell, but I'm not convinced that you actually know if you are or not.

Rick Sumner

So, having investigated still further, I find one portrait of Augustus from c. 30 BCE, where he looks particularly young (and is quite beautifully preserved). Certainly in later portraits we see that his face has filled out somewhat, though it's difficult to tell how much of that is artistic license.

But once we hit the principate, shift in the statuary stops almost dead. The Primaporta type becomes canonical, and explodes across Rome and the provinces with such speed that there can be little doubt that Augustus has stopped posing for portraits. They're just copying what they already have.

There are also noticeable shifts in the appearance of Augustus. Shifts that can't be attributed to age, features such as the jawline and chin have become reshaped. That's artistic license.

The Primaporta style probably arose when Augustus was around 40. Though he looks 25 or 30 in it--and is clearly intended to. Augustan age sculptures consistently attest to an Augustus who stayed forever young.

In late Augustan portraits (usually as pontifex maximus) we see absolutely no signs of aging, save the occasional worry lines around the mouth, which are almost certainly representative of a generic "aging" rather than any feature of Augustus himself. His youthful appearance is still clearly based on the Primaporta style, despite the fact that somewhere around four decades had passed. Augustus was extraordinarily long-lived.

The style of earlier generals and leaders--Pompey, Caesar, Cicero, and countless lesser figures--wears the signs of aging with pride. Crows feet, wrinkles, a battle-worn face; these were marks of a life served in the name of Rome. The Augustan style so bucks this trend. It is--up to that point--such an anomaly in Roman sculpture.

Even during the Augustan period, if we compare early sculptures of Livia with some of the later work--particularly some of the sardonyx cameos that are incredibly preserved and absolutely beautifully created (if one is inclined to dig for them, some of them are, if you'll excuse my enthusiasm, fucking incredible), you see the years are apparently less kind to her than they are to her eternally young husband. Interestingly, sculptures of her follow the Augustan trend generally--ageless--while other pieces are far more detailed and far less flattering.

Ultimately the earlier sculpture--following the earlier, more realistic style--probably gives us our best look at what Octavian looked like. Once you move into the imperial period it would seem that the busts do not give us a picture of Augustus whose features changed with time. It gives us an artistic reinterpretation of the Primaporta Augustus.

I am certainly no art historian, so would hesitate to commit solidly one way or the other, but I would be comfortable, having taken the time to look into it a bit, suggesting that you are wrong. If you have some evidence to the contrary, I'll be delighted to see it, but it's going to take a bit more than "Look at this web site! And the Ara Pacis!" to convince me, at this point.

This isn't to say that Augustus serves as a good analogy to Jesus. He doesn't. It's a horrible analogy. But you get the right answer for, as near as I can see, the wrong reasons.