Byzantine Matters by Averil Cameron (review)

In this thoughtful book, which transcends a typical survey of the state of a field, Cameron diagnoses a series of interdisciplinary academic discourses in which Byzantium should matter more than it usually does. The questions with which she frames her work—Was Byzantium an Empire? Was it an “Orthodox Society”?—invite Byzantinists to participate more fully in interdisciplinary conversations with scholars of comparative literature, art historians, and historians of religion. But Cameron also urges colleagues working in these related fields to pay more attention to Byzantium and Byzantinists. Standard narratives about Western culture and the formation of Europe have often neglected Byzantium, and current trends toward late antiquity, comparative empires, and pan-Mediterranean or Near Eastern history—and even world history—tend to blur the boarders of Byzantine studies. Where and how does Byzantium fit? Occasionally within her trenchant analysis of how Byzantinists both succeed and fail to engage their colleagues and the public, Cameron affords herself a plaintive tone to lament the insecurity of the discipline, especially in Anglophone universities: “It does not easily fit existing departmental structures, or feature among their priorities” (4). Positions have been cut and programs closed. What is the cost?

Cameron does not always answer her questions; instead, she illustrates their complexities and presents the case for nuance. She calls for greater theorization in a discipline that often lags behind developments in related fields. Even so, she acknowledges the emergence of a new generation of scholars well equipped not only with the necessary philological skills but also conversant in cultural criticism, and she applauds the inclusion of Coptic, Syriac, Armenian, and Arabic materials and engagement with the Western Middle Ages and the rise and formation of Islam.

Cameron reads widely in the field, intervening in balanced and constructive ways that guide further inquiry. She is particularly interested in debates about ethnicity and religion; she is fair but not necessarily gentle to those with whom she disagrees. She worries about the effects of nationalisms, especially Greek and Slavic, on Byzantine studies, even as she acknowledges Southeastern Europe as a region where Byzantine matters most acutely. She questions recent work, especially that of Kaldellis, in locating a Byzantine Hellenism relatively detached from Orthodox identity.¹ She expresses skepticism at the suggestion of Brubaker and Haldon that the Iconoclastic Controversy may have had little to do with the history of doctrine.² Some scholars struggle to imagine a Byzantine secularity, whereas others unreasonably assume that official Orthodoxy pervaded society and that norms of doctrine and ritual practice might be sufficient explanations for many aspects of Byzantine life. Worse, some have asserted that only those who are Orthodox can understand Orthodoxy. The academic study of Byzantine religion from a secular perspective remains underdeveloped, although Cameron might have missed its emerging vibrancy.

Blockbuster exhibitions of Byzantine art hold the public’s interest, providing an encounter that often exoticizes or sprititualizes Byzantium. Of pieces on display at a Royal Academy show in 2008/9, Cameron writes, “Many visitors found them hard to understand, but nearly all found them breathtaking” (71). The appeal of its art is both an opportunity and a trap for Byzantium. Cameron expresses caution about recent work, such as Pentcheva’s, that reflects on expectations of radiance, dazzle, and a mystified transcendent.³ Not everyone will agree with the judgments in this brief but stimulating book, but it provides perfect reading for societies, programs, and departments seeking to join the conversation about Byzantine matters.