день знаний. 1-3 рим.
с началом академ года! в день знаний осознаешь,как тонок слой и узок круг-даже в третьем риме и в столице,бывшей после бывшей... как мало-то вас, коллеги,дорогие! и увы,за лето стало еще меньше(.и не только из-за летальных исходов. ..чуть больше тех,кто когда-то учился со мной вместе, но,к счастью,понял, что семью кормить надо не только духовной пищей: они звонятпару разв год-25.1 и 1.09: "ну ты давай там, самореализуйся по полной, читай хорошие книги!"
- да были б книги! .. но,-" заграница нам поможет", как говорили в обществе "меча и орала"(: медиевальное обозрение расстаралось: прислало рецензию на хорошую книгу.плюс -рецензия писана мэтром. хорошо, что именитые профессора не брезгуют и имеют досуг,-) выполнять, в общем, черную работу на корпорацию! временной охват книги большой и сложный,непременно нужна рецензия спеца с большим опытом!
кажется, -нужная для преподавания книга. мне хочется внимательнее посмотреть Mark Humphries, "From Emperor to Pope? Ceremonial, Space, and Authority at Rome from Constantine to Gregory the Great" (21-58) и Julia Hillner, in what may prove to be the most controversial and important essay in the book, "Families, Patronage, and the Titular Churches of Rome, c. 300-c. 600" бумажная книга у меня скоро будет. поделюсь... или-читайте обстоятельные электронные обзоры( "The Medieval Review" :
Cooper, Kate and Julia Hillner, eds. Religion, Dynasty, and Patronage in Early Christian Rome, 300-900. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2007. Pp. xv, 327. GBP 60, $112.00. ISBN:9780521876414.
Reviewed by Thomas F. X. Noble University of Notre DameThe editors of this exceptionally lucid and important collection of
essays propose on the one hand to stir things up and on the other hand
to set the record straight. They succeed on both counts. A recurrent
theme of the Introduction and of many of the essays is that, after the
Constantinian Peace of the Church, it has been too easy to assume that
the only real story in Rome is about the inevitable and inexorable
rise of the papacy to urban leadership. The contributors to this
volume do not argue that this is not what happened--indeed they
acknowledge that after the Gothic Wars the papacy was in charge and
that a papally sponsored "media revolution" both constructed and
articulated the new situation. Their concern, rather, is to show that
the process was not inevitable and that it proceeded along a twisting
road. Where the contributors stir things up is in their effort to
restore the traditional emperor-bishop-aristocracy triad and in
particular to recover a role for the aristocracy. The scholarship,
judicious and current, is impeccable. The prose is almost always
agreeably readable. The arguments presented are fascinating and, on
the whole, convincing. No serious student of the late antique world
can afford to miss this book.
Mark Humphries, "From Emperor to Pope? Ceremonial, Space, and
Authority at Rome from Constantine to Gregory the Great" (21-58),
begins with the arrival of Phocas's images in Rome in 603 and asks how
the emperor remained important and a presence in Rome. Actually, he
includes Theodoric, too. Humphries's special focus rests on the
ceremony of adventus but he also looks at the arrival of images,
coins, and law codes. He is able to demonstrate that the emperors had
many ways of making their presence felt in Rome whether they were
there or not. The collapse of the Ostrogothic realm and, worse still,
the destruction of the economic base of the senatorial class in the
Gothic Wars deprived Rome of the people and resources necessary to
sustain the significance of the emperor on the local scene. Kate
Blair-Dixon, "Memory and Authority in Sixth-Century Rome: The
Liber Pontificalis and the Collectio Avellana (59-76),
launches from the opening of the Avellana with its bloody account of
the election of Damasus in 366. Her point is that this set of letters
was never very successful as a canonical collection but that it may be
extremely revealing as a sixth-century specimen of papal self-
fashioning and memory making. The Avellana has been little studied
and is not well known. It is a collection of 243 papal letters
written between the fourth and the sixth centuries. It is probably a
body of materials not otherwise available in the papal archives. The
Liber Pontificalis, a product of the 530s in its initial stage (Dixon
provides a remarkably clear and concise review of the major arguments
about the Liber's emergence) takes a very different line on some key
issued than the Avellana does. For instance, Avellana treats Damasus
as too dependent on imperial support and tries to enhance the moral
standing of Vigilius while at the same time upholding Rome's adherence
to strict orthodoxy. Dixon's point is that whatever we think about
the rise of the papacy, in the sixth century there were different ways
of telling the papacy's story inside the papal government itself.
After two papers that invite reflection on the rise of the papacy,
Kristina Sessa, "Domestic Conversions: Households and Bishops in the
Late Antique 'Papal Legends'" (79-114), shifts the focus from bishops
to householders and from ecclesia to domus to see how Roman
householders might have resisted, accepted, or even welcomed the
bishop's participation in household affairs. Her inquiry rests on a
close study of two texts from the gesta martyrum, a large body
of poorly edited and little known material. She concludes that
bishops sometimes intervened in coercive ways and sometimes in
collaborative ways. There was no single pattern. Hannah Jones,
"Agnes and Constantia: Domesticity and Cult Patronage in the
Passion of Agnes (115-39), looks at households in a quite
different way. The sources for the erection of the church of St.
Agnes manage to conflate Constantine, Constantia, Constantina, and
Agnes herself is various ways. In the Passio the theme of imperiled
virginity serves to show how civic, ascetic, virginal, and matrimonial
ideals could flow together to affirm the civic community. The key
point is that by means of a careful reading of the Passio Jones
uncovers interesting details about lay patrons. Also making use of
texts from the gesta martyrum, Conrad Leyser "'A Church in the
House of the Saints': Property and Power in the Passion of John and
Paul (140-62), studies the church of Sts. John and Paul in the Clivus
Scauri. This complex text reveals the only two saints martyred and
buried in their own house along with the story of the senator
Byzantinus and his son Pammachius who supposedly found the bodies,
erected the church, and founded the cult. In its various strains the
text reveals an attempt to isolate John, Paul, and their house perhaps
to stress monastic stability and flight from the world; a struggle
between lay donors and the imperial government; and finally a
contribution to the papal-imperial quarrels of the sixth century. In
all the text constitutes a "triumph over earthly justice and a
ferocious vindication of property" (162).
Kate Cooper, "Poverty, Obligation, and Inheritance: Roman Heiresses
and the Varieties of Senatorial Christianity in Fifth-Century Rome"
(165-89), comes back directly to lay aristocrats by looking at the
famous letter of Albinia to Augustine. At issue were the spectacular
donations of Albinia's daughter Melania the Younger and her husband
Pinian. Augustine believed that instead of huge one-off donations the
couple should have founded and endowed churches and monasteries.
Senatorials evidently preferred a conservative philanthropy that left
them in a position to discharge their traditional responsibilities.
The intricate relationships among wealth, asceticism, property, and
family duty had not yet been resolved. There was apparently a great
deal of generosity that did not result in permanent foundations of a
sort that would have left records. The same kind of theme is broached
by Anne Kurdock, "Demetrias Ancilla Dei: Anicia Demetrias and the
Problem of the Missing Patron" (190-224). Demetrias was a well-
connected woman known mainly from the letter Pelagius wrote to her,
the letter Augustine wrote to her mother, and the letter Jerome wrote
to her grandmother. The point of the essay is to establish a method
for understanding how powerful men sought to gain the good will of key
families through the women of those households. Women were not inert
and invisible as patrons and as maintainers of the status of their
domus if one knows how to look for them.
Julia Hillner, in what may prove to be the most controversial and
important essay in the book, "Families, Patronage, and the Titular
Churches of Rome, c. 300-c. 600" (225-61), surveys the contentious
scholarship on the origin and structure of the title churches and
offers a new and, to me, compelling interpretation. Briefly, titulus
seems to have been a term used by the bishops of Rome to indicate that
they had secured property justly. Personal names in the genitive
attached to most title churches identify and honor the person who
founded and endowed the church, although a titulus does not have to be
understood exclusively as a church endowed by its original founder.
The churches did not belong to collegia of priests. Hillner's essay
supports Cooper's and Kurdock's in arguing that in pre-Christian and
Christian times endowment donations were comparatively rare. Families
preferred grand, one-off gestures that did not risk disinheriting
heirs or permitting heirs of the original donation to use property for
other than its intended purpose. The tituli were the property of the
Roman Church. Problems abound: we do not necessarily know of all the
tituli; not all the property of a titulus had to have been donated by
its original founder; lay donors certainly did support the bishops
church and did not prefer decentralized and personal foundations;
aristocratic founders may not have trusted the popes. The most
serious problem is that in the past the evidence for the tituli has
been read selectively and tendentiously.
In the volume's last essay, "To Be the Neighbor of St. Stephen:
Patronage, Martyr Cult, and Roman Monasteries c. 600-c. 900" (262-87),
Marios Costambeys and Conrad Leyser open up the odd fact that while we
can name some 100 Roman monasteries, we know almost nothing about
them. We can resign ourselves to our ignorance or we can develop a
new methodology to get at the social, spiritual, and institutional
life of Roman monasteries. The authors trace the cult of St. Stephen,
perhaps the patron saint of Roman monasticism, to show that
traditional monastic history which emphasizes a charismatic founder
and the institutionalization of his achievement in a rule, does not
work for Rome and may not be an omnicompetent model for monasticism as
a whole. The first church in Rome founded by a lay patron--
Demertrias, see above--and mentioned by the Liber Pontificalis was
dedicated to Stephen. In the massive donation list included in the
Liber's life of Leo III under the year 806/7 no fewer than six
churches were dedicated to Stephen. At, perhaps, the end of the
eighth century the Translatio of the relics of Stephen may have
been a riposte to Frankish interest in the saint's cult. The text
shows Rome mobilizing one of its main saints by expressing pride in
Rome, the memory of Gregory the Great, hostility to the Greeks, and
suspicion of northerners. From the mid-sixth century to the late
ninth, by means of the Liber Pontificalis, the popes had a
stranglehold on the fashioning of institutional memory in the city.
Monastic identities in the city were more focused on cult. This essay
is speculative, slightly rambling, and not entirely convincing on the
importance of St. Stephen, but it is, as its authors claim, "good to
think with."
- да были б книги! .. но,-" заграница нам поможет", как говорили в обществе "меча и орала"(: медиевальное обозрение расстаралось: прислало рецензию на хорошую книгу.плюс -рецензия писана мэтром. хорошо, что именитые профессора не брезгуют и имеют досуг,-) выполнять, в общем, черную работу на корпорацию! временной охват книги большой и сложный,непременно нужна рецензия спеца с большим опытом!
кажется, -нужная для преподавания книга. мне хочется внимательнее посмотреть Mark Humphries, "From Emperor to Pope? Ceremonial, Space, and Authority at Rome from Constantine to Gregory the Great" (21-58) и Julia Hillner, in what may prove to be the most controversial and important essay in the book, "Families, Patronage, and the Titular Churches of Rome, c. 300-c. 600" бумажная книга у меня скоро будет. поделюсь... или-читайте обстоятельные электронные обзоры( "The Medieval Review" :
Cooper, Kate and Julia Hillner, eds. Religion, Dynasty, and Patronage in Early Christian Rome, 300-900. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2007. Pp. xv, 327. GBP 60, $112.00. ISBN:9780521876414.
Reviewed by Thomas F. X. Noble University of Notre DameThe editors of this exceptionally lucid and important collection of
Click to viewessays propose on the one hand to stir things up and on the other hand
to set the record straight. They succeed on both counts. A recurrent
theme of the Introduction and of many of the essays is that, after the
Constantinian Peace of the Church, it has been too easy to assume that
the only real story in Rome is about the inevitable and inexorable
rise of the papacy to urban leadership. The contributors to this
volume do not argue that this is not what happened--indeed they
acknowledge that after the Gothic Wars the papacy was in charge and
that a papally sponsored "media revolution" both constructed and
articulated the new situation. Their concern, rather, is to show that
the process was not inevitable and that it proceeded along a twisting
road. Where the contributors stir things up is in their effort to
restore the traditional emperor-bishop-aristocracy triad and in
particular to recover a role for the aristocracy. The scholarship,
judicious and current, is impeccable. The prose is almost always
agreeably readable. The arguments presented are fascinating and, on
the whole, convincing. No serious student of the late antique world
can afford to miss this book.
Mark Humphries, "From Emperor to Pope? Ceremonial, Space, and
Authority at Rome from Constantine to Gregory the Great" (21-58),
begins with the arrival of Phocas's images in Rome in 603 and asks how
the emperor remained important and a presence in Rome. Actually, he
includes Theodoric, too. Humphries's special focus rests on the
ceremony of adventus but he also looks at the arrival of images,
coins, and law codes. He is able to demonstrate that the emperors had
many ways of making their presence felt in Rome whether they were
there or not. The collapse of the Ostrogothic realm and, worse still,
the destruction of the economic base of the senatorial class in the
Gothic Wars deprived Rome of the people and resources necessary to
sustain the significance of the emperor on the local scene. Kate
Blair-Dixon, "Memory and Authority in Sixth-Century Rome: The
Liber Pontificalis and the Collectio Avellana (59-76),
launches from the opening of the Avellana with its bloody account of
the election of Damasus in 366. Her point is that this set of letters
was never very successful as a canonical collection but that it may be
extremely revealing as a sixth-century specimen of papal self-
fashioning and memory making. The Avellana has been little studied
and is not well known. It is a collection of 243 papal letters
written between the fourth and the sixth centuries. It is probably a
body of materials not otherwise available in the papal archives. The
Liber Pontificalis, a product of the 530s in its initial stage (Dixon
provides a remarkably clear and concise review of the major arguments
about the Liber's emergence) takes a very different line on some key
issued than the Avellana does. For instance, Avellana treats Damasus
as too dependent on imperial support and tries to enhance the moral
standing of Vigilius while at the same time upholding Rome's adherence
to strict orthodoxy. Dixon's point is that whatever we think about
the rise of the papacy, in the sixth century there were different ways
of telling the papacy's story inside the papal government itself.
After two papers that invite reflection on the rise of the papacy,
Kristina Sessa, "Domestic Conversions: Households and Bishops in the
Late Antique 'Papal Legends'" (79-114), shifts the focus from bishops
to householders and from ecclesia to domus to see how Roman
householders might have resisted, accepted, or even welcomed the
bishop's participation in household affairs. Her inquiry rests on a
close study of two texts from the gesta martyrum, a large body
of poorly edited and little known material. She concludes that
bishops sometimes intervened in coercive ways and sometimes in
collaborative ways. There was no single pattern. Hannah Jones,
"Agnes and Constantia: Domesticity and Cult Patronage in the
Passion of Agnes (115-39), looks at households in a quite
different way. The sources for the erection of the church of St.
Agnes manage to conflate Constantine, Constantia, Constantina, and
Agnes herself is various ways. In the Passio the theme of imperiled
virginity serves to show how civic, ascetic, virginal, and matrimonial
ideals could flow together to affirm the civic community. The key
point is that by means of a careful reading of the Passio Jones
uncovers interesting details about lay patrons. Also making use of
texts from the gesta martyrum, Conrad Leyser "'A Church in the
House of the Saints': Property and Power in the Passion of John and
Paul (140-62), studies the church of Sts. John and Paul in the Clivus
Scauri. This complex text reveals the only two saints martyred and
buried in their own house along with the story of the senator
Byzantinus and his son Pammachius who supposedly found the bodies,
erected the church, and founded the cult. In its various strains the
text reveals an attempt to isolate John, Paul, and their house perhaps
to stress monastic stability and flight from the world; a struggle
between lay donors and the imperial government; and finally a
contribution to the papal-imperial quarrels of the sixth century. In
all the text constitutes a "triumph over earthly justice and a
ferocious vindication of property" (162).
Kate Cooper, "Poverty, Obligation, and Inheritance: Roman Heiresses
and the Varieties of Senatorial Christianity in Fifth-Century Rome"
(165-89), comes back directly to lay aristocrats by looking at the
famous letter of Albinia to Augustine. At issue were the spectacular
donations of Albinia's daughter Melania the Younger and her husband
Pinian. Augustine believed that instead of huge one-off donations the
couple should have founded and endowed churches and monasteries.
Senatorials evidently preferred a conservative philanthropy that left
them in a position to discharge their traditional responsibilities.
The intricate relationships among wealth, asceticism, property, and
family duty had not yet been resolved. There was apparently a great
deal of generosity that did not result in permanent foundations of a
sort that would have left records. The same kind of theme is broached
by Anne Kurdock, "Demetrias Ancilla Dei: Anicia Demetrias and the
Problem of the Missing Patron" (190-224). Demetrias was a well-
connected woman known mainly from the letter Pelagius wrote to her,
the letter Augustine wrote to her mother, and the letter Jerome wrote
to her grandmother. The point of the essay is to establish a method
for understanding how powerful men sought to gain the good will of key
families through the women of those households. Women were not inert
and invisible as patrons and as maintainers of the status of their
domus if one knows how to look for them.
Julia Hillner, in what may prove to be the most controversial and
important essay in the book, "Families, Patronage, and the Titular
Churches of Rome, c. 300-c. 600" (225-61), surveys the contentious
scholarship on the origin and structure of the title churches and
offers a new and, to me, compelling interpretation. Briefly, titulus
seems to have been a term used by the bishops of Rome to indicate that
they had secured property justly. Personal names in the genitive
attached to most title churches identify and honor the person who
founded and endowed the church, although a titulus does not have to be
understood exclusively as a church endowed by its original founder.
The churches did not belong to collegia of priests. Hillner's essay
supports Cooper's and Kurdock's in arguing that in pre-Christian and
Christian times endowment donations were comparatively rare. Families
preferred grand, one-off gestures that did not risk disinheriting
heirs or permitting heirs of the original donation to use property for
other than its intended purpose. The tituli were the property of the
Roman Church. Problems abound: we do not necessarily know of all the
tituli; not all the property of a titulus had to have been donated by
its original founder; lay donors certainly did support the bishops
church and did not prefer decentralized and personal foundations;
aristocratic founders may not have trusted the popes. The most
serious problem is that in the past the evidence for the tituli has
been read selectively and tendentiously.
In the volume's last essay, "To Be the Neighbor of St. Stephen:
Patronage, Martyr Cult, and Roman Monasteries c. 600-c. 900" (262-87),
Marios Costambeys and Conrad Leyser open up the odd fact that while we
can name some 100 Roman monasteries, we know almost nothing about
them. We can resign ourselves to our ignorance or we can develop a
new methodology to get at the social, spiritual, and institutional
life of Roman monasteries. The authors trace the cult of St. Stephen,
perhaps the patron saint of Roman monasticism, to show that
traditional monastic history which emphasizes a charismatic founder
and the institutionalization of his achievement in a rule, does not
work for Rome and may not be an omnicompetent model for monasticism as
a whole. The first church in Rome founded by a lay patron--
Demertrias, see above--and mentioned by the Liber Pontificalis was
dedicated to Stephen. In the massive donation list included in the
Liber's life of Leo III under the year 806/7 no fewer than six
churches were dedicated to Stephen. At, perhaps, the end of the
eighth century the Translatio of the relics of Stephen may have
been a riposte to Frankish interest in the saint's cult. The text
shows Rome mobilizing one of its main saints by expressing pride in
Rome, the memory of Gregory the Great, hostility to the Greeks, and
suspicion of northerners. From the mid-sixth century to the late
ninth, by means of the Liber Pontificalis, the popes had a
stranglehold on the fashioning of institutional memory in the city.
Monastic identities in the city were more focused on cult. This essay
is speculative, slightly rambling, and not entirely convincing on the
importance of St. Stephen, but it is, as its authors claim, "good to
think with."