Artifact and Artifice: Classical Archaeology and the Ancient Historians by Jonathan M. Hall (review)

The complex tapestry of ancient history, notably the study of classical Greece and Rome, has undergone dramatic changes in recent decades. Seismic, if often inconspicuous, shifts in interpretation, methodology, and theory have led to much more complex interpretations of even well-known developments and events. A new generation of interdisciplinary research seems imminent, indeed long overdue, as classical scholars from fields as diverse as art, archaeology, and philology grapple with a fundamental problem—What are the strengths, limitations, and potentials of data acquired in field and library by scholars with different methodologies and perceptions?

Hall’s Artifact and Artifice examines the implications of these new historical narratives by using nine case studies of familiar issues that continue to generate scholarly disagreement, approaching them all with the assumption that history is “an active, forensic practice” involving the examination of fragmentary clues, in a spirit of “self-critical awareness” (2). After an introductory chapter that includes a valuable historical survey of classical archaeology, Hall plunges into the case studies—or cautionary tales, as he dubs them—starting with the long controversies about ethylene emissions and the Delphic oracle. In this instance, as in the others, Hall is careful, and correct, to leave the issues open-ended, given that his book concerns historiography. He argues that any emissions at the Delphic oracle were a “physical indication of a divine presence” to the Greeks (32). Undoubtedly, the debate will continue.

Hall next visits the Persian destruction of Eretria and the issue of whether the chronology of Greek material culture can be revised by a half-century or so based on archaeological evidence alone. The Sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Eleusis provokes a complex back-and-forth between archaeological discoveries and conventional historical sources that involves, among things, the Oath of Plataia, allegedly sworn in 479 b.c. Is it possible to identify the structures in Athens through which Sokrates moved? Again, Hall rightly advises extreme caution. When he turns to the royal graves at Vergina, and their associations with Philip II, he enters the realm of archaeology, history, and political narrative, to which he brings detailed, open-minded analysis.

Hall describes the birth of the Roman Republic as “a messy and drawn-out experiment” (163), arguing that the presence of earlier monuments shaped the historical narratives. Was the Emperor Augustus’ palace austere, as some accounts hint? This question prompts an interesting debate about the primacy of archaeological sources. Hall describes the archaeological footprint as “ethereal,” an apt characterization of the virtually nonexistent archaeological evidence for St. Peter. In his discussion of the controversies about the bones of St. Peter under his church in Rome, Hall skillfully navigates a morass of conflicting archaeological and historical data. He points out that the identification of Peter’s remains and the location of the tomb are separate, unresolved issues fraught with ideological and political baggage.

Artifact and Artifice makes clear that textual evidence and archaeological evidence must be situated within a broader literary and material context. No research field, regardless of its cumulative perceptions, is one-dimensional; nothing is as simple as it appears. Textual and the material sources inhabit entirely different discourses. Hall argues that a neutral discourse of analysis should focus closely on methodological issues. What questions should historians ask of archaeological evidence, and vice versa? His book demonstrates that, notwithstanding the divisions of the traditional academic structure, promising avenues for a fruitful dialogue between disciplines are certainly in the offing.