It likely reflects my preferences, but this book about the Parthenon was at its best when it wasn’t really about the Parthenon. The first 100 pages of this brief, 200-page book is really a history of the Ancient Greeks: David Stuttard punchily takes us through the key events, from the earliest flowering of democracy in Athens, its rivalry with Sparta, their union to withstand the Persian threat under Darius then Xerxes, all culminating in Athens’ hegemony after the Persian wars.
It is during this time that Pericles took to rebuilding the temples on the Acropolis, decimated by Xerxes in 480 BC. Central among these is, of course, the grandest of them all: the Parthenon. In doing this, Pericles was making use of the huge amount of money Athens was taking in from the other Greek states (the Delian league) by having them pay for protection by the superior Athenian fleet.
This description of the events leading up to the building of the Parthenon is heavily reliant on Herodotus but, having read that work recently, this is a far easier and quicker introduction than the man from Halicarnassus’ tome. Even in the brief space Stuttard affords himself, historical figures are well characterised (“cunning Themistocles” or “flamboyant Peisistratus”) and, for a book about a building, the history really pulls you in and brings the world in which the Parthenon was built to life. As a 100-page tour of this period it really can’t be beaten, though there is of course a fair amount of foreshadowing of the fabled building itself which would be a little peculiar if taken out of context.
In a similar manner the final thirty-odd pages of the book are well edited, engagingly written history too. This covers the downfall of Athens at the hands of their Greek neighbours in the Peloponnesian war, something Stuttard at any rates almost relishes as deserved by the Athenians’ arrogance and hubris during their period of money-making - ‘lord-it-over-their-neighbours’ - dominance.
It is in the main event, however, that the book falls down. I probably could have overlooked the lengthy descriptions of the building itself and the onerous attention to detail (exceptionally lengthy descriptions of metopes anyone?). This was all anticipated, but the level of detail is a little much, particularly as so much imagery is repeated around the Parthenon and the wider Acropolis site, meaning you will hear about Theseus and the Amazons and other Athenian favourites time and again in different architectural settings.
This, as I say, could have been overlooked if the author did a better job of actually illustrating what he’s talking about. I spent the majority of time with barely a clue where what was being discussed was actually located on the temple itself. All that would have been required was a simple diagram of the Parthenon, some arrows pointing at the key bits and definition of key terms (I refer you back to my use of the word ‘metope’, a rectangular decorative panel above the columns, between the – sigh - triglyphs).
This singular diagram would have done wonders. Throw in zoom outs from a full image of the Parthenon showing the specific metopes or triglyphs or whatever else is being discussed so the reader knows what’s what, and the architectural portion of the book could have been a nice complement to the dynamic, concise history Stuttard has offered up in Parthenon: Power and Politics on the Acropolis. As it is, I ended up floundering in the middle of the book, becoming increasingly annoyed I couldn’t follow the discussion. This book is still worth reading for its great overview of a major period in Greek history, but it could have been perfect with just a few adjustments in its central, eponymous section.