It is remarkable to think that the author survived Auschwitz (where he was on “sewer command”) and a subsequent Death March. Did he make any connections with his own history and early Greece? Or did he see Hellas as an escape from Hell? We can’t tell from this book. I think it is to his credit that so little of the author’s personality obtrudes and what we have here is an elegant, brief, but comprehensively succinct introduction to an important and fascinating subject. Of course, it is by now a bit dated. Nowadays one could hardly write a book about this subject and gloss over in silence the subject of same-sex relations. (At least he doesn’t excoriate them as “bourgeois deviations” – despite having been an enthusiastic Communist in his youth – which is hardly surprising – Marxist theory doesn’t crowd out real history too much here).
At the time of writing (December 2019) Professor Oliva is still alive and, one hopes, enjoying the happy retirement, garlanded with honours, which his writing and his career has earned. The Greeks were not the first nor the only culture to value drinking wine with friends while talking about the meaning of life. And it wasn’t all sunlight and philosophy (I’m always struck by the gold death masks of the Mycenaean rulers because they look like utter thugs – which they probably were). But reading this – especially by the hearth on cold, dark nights in the depths of a northern winter – I yearn for a sunlit courtyard surrounded by friends whose conversation is as noble as the vintage we are drinking and remind myself that I too am an heir to this culture (despite having no Greek blood). Amidst the terrible suffering of his early life, was Professor Oliva also sustained by the thought that he too was, in a sense, and like almost all of us – also a Greek?