
A Model of Respect
At last there’s someone who brings out the best in our Editor (see Hershel Shanks’s open letter to Colin Renfrew, Editor’s Page, AO 05:04). While I normally agree with what Hershel Shanks writes, I am sometimes less enthusiastic about the vehemence and bitterness he sometimes expresses. I never know, when opening your magazines, whether I am to be entertained (by rancour and shallow thought) or educated (by something more productive and useful). Shanks’s letter to Professor Renfrew is a model of respect for both the person and his ideas and a model of thoughtful argument—characteristics we could well do with more of in the “academic” debate that often graces your pages.
Calgary, Alberta
See Professor Renfrew’s response to Shanks, in Looting Forum. It too is a model of respect and thoughtful ideas.—Ed.
Contagion in Ancient Times
Ancient Life, AO 05:04 (“A Stitch in Time”), featuring surgery in Roman culture, is a very nice piece—though you might have noted that surgeons in ancient Judea were happy to reconstruct prepuces for Jewish customers who wished to fade into crowds at local public baths.
I would like to dispute your statement, however, that “ancient physicians knew nothing about bacterial infections.” As far as the physicians of the ancient Near East are concerned, I can bring lots of evidence to bear on the matter. But let me illustrate my objection by quoting one letter written in cuneiform on a clay tablet from the archives of Mari, a town on the Euphrates River in present-day Syria. King Zimri-Lim posted this message to Queen Shiptu around 1770 B.C.E.:
“I have heard it said, ’Nanna suffers from lesions.’ Since she is frequently at the palace, she might infect the many women who are with her. Now give strict orders: No one is to drink from the cup she uses; no one is to sit on the seat she uses, and no one is to lie on the bed she uses, lest she infect the many women who are with her. This particular lesion is very contagious (
In Mesopotamia, as elsewhere in the ancient Near East, it was convenient to use metaphors when speaking of illness—for example, “the hand of god” for disease, and the “meal of god” for epidemic. This was because Semitic languages (including Akkadian, the language of this tablet) cannot easily achieve abstraction. Such circumlocution is perfectly natural to the language; but when translated into our modern idiom, it invests ancient Semitic literature (the Bible, for example) with a quaintness, carnality or patriarchal quality scarcely relevant to the original. In passages on sickness and disease, this metaphorical language often makes people of the ancient Levant seem inordinately pietistic, even superstitious.
Our letter is somewhat different.
Although published almost half a century ago and frequently cited in specialized literature, this letter does not fail to surprise when I quote it to physicians and historians of medicine, many of whom wrongly imagine that medical knowledge began in Greece.
Those interested in the original text might consult Georges Dossin and André Finet, Correspondance féminine, Archives Royales de Mari 10 (Paris: Geuthner, 1967), pp. 188–189. Nice overviews about these matters are available in two accessible chapters on Egyptian (pp. 1787–1798) and Mesopotamian (pp. 1911–1924) medicine, in Jack M. Sasson, ed., Civilizations of the Ancient Near East (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000).
Vanderbilt University
Nashville, Tennessee
Hence the Bull
As a “non-scholarly” reader, I wonder if the following paragraph suggests an explanation for the puzzling bull mosaic at Selinunte (see Hershel Shanks, “Punic Double Take,” Destinations, AO 05:04):
“There is no doubt that Alexandria was the source of [the bull-god] Serapis and Isis, divinities to whom large temples were built in both Lepcis [Leptis Magna] and Sabratha [ancient sites in present-day Libya]; their cult came in through the tripolitan ports during the Hellenistic Age. Indeed, it is obvious that this occurred because, like the old Phoenician god Melkart, both Isis and Serapis together offered protection to navicularii—navigators and seamen” (Antonio Di Vita, Ginette Di Vita-Evrard and Lidiano Bacchielli, Libya: The Lost Cities of the Roman Empire [Cologne: Könemann, 1999], p. 35).
We also know that a fourth-century B.C. Punic trading post was established at Sabratha, where Phoenicians may have learned about the Serapis cult.
Lawrenceville, New Jersey
Carthago non deleta est
In “Punic Double Take,” Hershel Shanks states that “Even at Carthage … residential areas are nowhere to be seen, so thoroughly did the Romans destroy them.”
Ah, but there are Punic residences in Carthage, and they are well worth seeing. The most recently revealed are those on the Byrsa itself, excavated mainly in the 1980s. They give a good idea of the layout and size of the houses and, as I recall, of the individual cisterns. Moreover, the remains of houses with mosaic floors very similar to those described in the article have long been on display in Carthage.
Undoubtedly the Romans did a job on Carthage, but not even so vengeful an army could totally destroy every trace of a noble people.
Bloomington, Indiana
Hisarlik Was Not Troy!
I visited Hisarlik a few years ago during a tour of Turkey, and my only thought was that no one with an open mind and open eyes could possibly consider this provincial town the site of Homer’s Troy (see Rüdiger Heimlich, “The New Trojan Wars,” and the interview with Wolf-Dietrich Niemeier, “Greeks vs. Hittites,” AO 05:04). A town at Hisarlik would have been conquered in a day by a few thousand Achaean warriors with modest scaling ladders. The defensive walls are miniscule compared to the vast sloped defensive walls of Hattusa, capital of the Hittites.
The classical writer Strabo discussed this controversy almost 2,000 years ago in book 13 of his Geography: “[T]he people of the present Ilium, being fond of glory
and wishing to show that their Ilium was the ancient city, have offered a troublesome argument to those who base their evidence on the poetry of Homer, for their Ilium does not appear to have been the Homeric city.”Strabo observes that before Alexander’s visit, the site was a “mere village” with a “small” temple of Athena. Then Alexander “adorned the temple with votive offerings, gave the village the title of the city, and ordered those in charge to improve it with buildings.”
Park Ridge, Illinois
Hisarlik Was Troy!
If Hisarlik is not Troy, why was it alone revered as the site of Troy for centuries during classical times? And why did Alexander the Great—who, like Schliemann, is said to have traveled with Homer in hand—honor the already-ancient site with a temple to Athena, an enormous sacrifice and other gifts?
I cast my vote for Dr. Korfmann and his group. In the only slightly paraphrased words of Frank Calvert, the site’s first excavator, “If Troy existed, it could only have been at Hisarlik.”
Braintree, Massachusetts
Child Sacrifice was Common
Regarding human sacrifice (see Theodore H. Feder and Hershel Shanks, “Iphigenia and Isaac: Saved at the Altar,” AO 05:03), it seems that practically every ancient people we know of had it—though the Hebrews, Greeks and Romans consciously gave it up. The Etruscans had it, and the Phoenicians, and the Gauls …
Such sacrifice appears to have been considered “barbaric,” then, only by those who had given up their earlier ways. Similarly, Europeans today feel that the death penalty—which they gave up after the Italian Cesare Beccaria’s denunciation of it—is barbaric in the United States.
New York University
New York, New York