A history of the Byzantine emperors during the century leading up to Psellos' own time. It covers the reigns of fourteen emperors and empresses, beginning with the almost 50-year-long reign of Basil II, the "Bulgar-Slayer" (976–1025), and ending some time during the reign of Michael VII Doukas (1071–1078).
Michael Psellos or Psellus (Greek: Μιχαήλ Ψελλός, Mikhaēl Psellos) was an eleventh century Byzantine monk, writer, philosopher, politician and historian.
Fourteen people ruled the Byzantine Empire between the years 976 and 1078, and the Byzantine historian Michael Psellus, in his Chronographia, provides a thorough totting-up of all their merits and flaws. Psellus’ classical education makes him a well-informed commentator, and one senses the spirit of the great Greco-Roman biographer Plutarch in the way Psellus provides commentary on the characters of various Byzantine leaders throughout the book that he called the Chronographia.
Psellus, a philosopher and theologian as well as an historian, was a courtier in the courts of several different Byzantine emperors, and therefore he had abundant opportunities to observe and evaluate their character traits and their approach to rulership. He saw how far Byzantium had drifted from its roots in the Eastern Roman Empire that Constantine the Great had established in the 4th century A.D., and he advocated that his medieval state take up anew lost traditions of classical learning. When he refers, throughout the Chronographia< to the Byzantines as “the Romans,” Psellus may be engaging in more than a bit of wishful thinking.
In case you were wondering who were the “Fourteen Byzantine Rulers” who give a title to this Penguin Classics translation of the Chronographia, here they are:
1. Basil II Bulgaroctonos, 976-1025. 2. Constantine VIII, 1025-28. 3. Romanus III Argyrus, 1028-34. 4. Michael IV Paphlagon, 1034-41. 5. Michael V Calaphates, 1041-42. 6. Zoe and Theodora, 1042. 7. Constantine IX Monomachus, 1042-55. 8. Theodora, 1055-56. 9. Michael VI Stratioticus, 1056-57. 10. Isaac Comnenus, 1057-59. 11. Constantine X Ducas, 1059-67. 12. Eudocia, 1067. 13. Romanus IV Diogenes, 1068-71. 14. Michael VII Parapinaces, 1071-78.
I can’t help observing a couple of things about all these Byzantine rulers. One is that, with a couple of exceptions, their reigns were generally rather short – a reflection, perhaps, of the political instability that was so often a feature of Byzantine life. The other is that, for all that many of these rulers no doubt worried about their place in history, and may have considered themselves immortal like the Caesars of centuries before, I had never even heard of most of them, with the sole exception of Isaac Comnenus. It is a telling indicator of the vanity of human wishes.
In considering the way in which all of these rulers governed Byzantium, Psellus makes a point to acknowledge that Byzantium as a state was anything but easy to rule. Late in the Chronographia, he provides eloquent testimony on the bloated nature of the bureaucratic state that was Byzantium: “We can liken it to a monstrous body, a body with a multitude of heads, an ugly bull-neck, hands so many that they were beyond counting, and just as many feet; its entrails were festering and diseased, in some parts swollen, in others wasting away, here afflicted with dropsy, there diminishing with consumption” (p. 306).
Depicting Byzantium as if it were a many-headed monster from classical mythology, Psellus makes clear his feeling that it would have been difficult for anyone to govern the Byzantine state well.
To this day, people who would have trouble distinguishing Constantinople from Chesapeake City refer to any state or organization with an excessively elaborate bureaucracy as “Byzantine” – and rightly so. The elaborate list of civil and ecclesiastical officers included curopalates (major-domo of the palace), eparch (“father of the city” or mayor of Constantinople), logothete (chancellor), magister (high court official), nomophylax (head of the Faculty of Law at the University of Constantinople), orphanotrophus (supervisor of the Constantinople orphanage), parakoimomenus (lord chamberlain), protospatharius (commander of the imperial bodyguard), and protovestiarius (curator of the emperor’s wardrobe).
Confused yet? The one thing that is most important to remember is that a great many of these titled people, at any given time, thought that they could do a much better job as emperor than whoever was actually sitting on the throne at Constantinople.
I mentioned Plutarch earlier in this reviews, because I detected strong echoes of Plutarch’s Parallel Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans in the swift, economical way in which Psellus set forth the personalities and characters of the various emperors, as when he says that Basill II “was more of a villain in wartime, more of an emperor in time of peace” (pp. 46-47), or states how Constantine VIII “neglected the affairs of his Empire while he devoted himself to his chequers and dice, for so ardent was he in the pursuit of gaming, and so enraptured by it, that even when ambassadors were waiting to attend on him he would disregard them if he was in the middle of a game” (pp. 57-58). Citizens of many modern nations may see, in Psellus’ portraits, foreshadowings of the characters of different leaders of their own countries.
I was particularly struck by Psellus’ description of Michael V: “He had an extraordinary flair for concealing ‘the fire beneath the ashes’ – that is to say, he hid an evil disposition under a kindly exterior….He showed no consideration for benefactors, no gratitude to anyone for friendship or solicitude or devotion on his behalf. But his powers of dissimulation were such that he could hide all that” (p. 102). When one combines that description of Michael’s moral nature with Psellus’ account of how “the emperor’s body was swollen, and nobody could fail to notice the hydropsy from which he was suffering” (p. 104), the picture that emerges is certainly a negative one. If Michael became “a pattern of piety after his accession” (p. 105), as Psellus claims, with many high-profile demonstrations of his devotion to the Christian faith, then his actions may have reflected anxiety about the state of his body and soul, or awareness that he had a public-image problem, or all of the above.
I also took particular interest in Psellus’ description of Constantine IX: “Constantine had no very clear conception of the nature of monarchy. He failed to realize that it entailed responsibility for the well-being of his subjects, and that an emperor must always watch over the administration of his realm and ensure its development on sound lines” (p. 179). In Psellus’ reading, it seems to be for that reason that Constantine IX faced, during his reign, not one but two major rebellions – one led by the general George Maniaces in 1042, and another conducted by the emperor’s own nephew Leo Tornicius in 1047.
Psellus describes Tornicius as a man who “reeked of Macedonian arrogance”, and whose “mind was perpetually open to revolutionary ideas” (pp. 204-05). When Constantine’s illness seemed to create a power vacuum, Tornicius declared Constantine dead, was acclaimed emperor by the army, and besieged Constantinople itself – and then hesitated and lost, when he was at the gates of the city and victory seemed within his grasp.
Tornicius paid a high price for his attempt at seizing the throne, as the victorious Constantine condemned his treasonous nephew “to blinding on the spot. At that the pretender emitted a cry of anguish and basely lamented his fate” (p. 218). Blinding – sometimes accompanied by transportation for life to a monastery – seems to have been a common fate for Byzantines who gambled and lost in one game-of-thrones or another. Indeed, with monasteries providing one of the few forms of refuge from the constant dangers of political life in Byzantium, it is not surprising that Psellus himself, at one point, retired from public life and went to live as a monk.
Of Isaac Comnenus, Psellus writes that “In matters other than the civil administration, he advanced the welfare of his Empire by gradual progress, and had he followed the same policy in the non-military sphere also, by purging the state of its rotten elements, two things would have happened: he himself would have earned undying honour, and the body politic would not have been brought to utter ruin.” Unfortunately, we are told, “Isaac wanted to revolutionize everything. He was eager to lose no time in cutting out the dead wood which had long been accumulating in the Roman Empire.” Ultimately, Psellus informs us, “the task was beyond him, and in consequence he lacked faith in his own success” (p. 306).
This passage is characteristic of much of the Chronographia; one gets the sense that Psellus wants to be fair and broad-minded, and, at the same time, that the author can’t help pointing out how the character flaws of various emperors kept them from restoring Byzantium to its 6th-century glory days of the emperor Justinian. The Chronographia ends quite suddenly, and no one knows why – but it’s clear throughout that Michael Psellus loves his dysfunctional country. One is glad, for Psellus’ sake, that the Byzantine Empire struggled on for another four centuries after his death, so that Psellus never had to witness the fall of Constantinople and the end of Byzantium. No doubt he thought much about the possibility of such an unhappy ending – and perhaps he hoped that, by setting down the flaws and failings of all these Byzantine emperors, he might encourage some future emperor to do better.
An account of the reigns of fourteen emperors by a guy who lived through them all, which tells you a lot about the absolute state of the Byzantine empire around 1100 AD. Also, they might have found things easier if they hadn't all been called either Michael or Constantine, just saying.
This is a beautifully written/translated work--Psellus was a polymath, a rhetorician as well as philosopher, doctor, engineer, military expert, etc. Includes quite a lot about how extremely clever he is and how various emperors hung on his every word, looked on him as a god, suffered when they failed to take his advice, etc.
Very interesting and acute in places, grovelly in others--the account of Michael VII, written in that useless berk's lifetime, presents him as some kind of new Alexander. Very much focused on court shenanigans and politics rather than what was going on in the wider empire or the life of the common people, who should, on Psellus' account, be robustly ignored at all times.
A very readable translation of a memoir/history written roughly a thousand years ago, by a Byzantine scholar and government functionary who, through the vagaries of his near-century of life and service, witnessed, sometimes firsthand, the reigns and deaths of an ungodly number of succeeding Byzantine emperors. Emperor, relative of emperor, or high government official were all high-risk professions in that era, with penalties for failure besides death or exile including blinding, castration, or forced conversion into a monk or nun (although a few managed to wriggle out of the latter disempowerment, sometimes.) A lively, colorful, and occasionally bizarre narrative, at once very approachable and sometimes very alien. Reading between the lines, as well as what's on them, is recommended.
I would have been quite at sea if I hadn't watched a rather good Great Course on the Byzantine Empire a month or so ago ( http://www.thegreatcourses.com/course... ); as it was I was lost in a smaller swamp. This is a text that, for the non-scholar, could really have used about double its own weight in explanatory footnotes, but I'll have to look at other books for that. As it stood, it was that goldmine for the researching writer, a first-hand account, studded with the kind of telling details that general histories leave out. For my purposes, well worth it.
The fact that I could for a pittance pull this man's direct voice, as it were, out of the air (and onto my Kindle) across barriers of time and space and language a millennium after he lived is a source of wonder to me. Given that he was apparently a notable scholar of his time, as well as times, it's bemusing to imagine how it would have seemed to him, could he have been told about it.
Suetonian/procopian memoir, touching on the late Macedonian dynasty, the whole of the Doukai, and the beginning of the Komnenoi. General thesis is that the empire degenerated or decayed from the belle epoque of Basil II. Statement of Purpose buried deeply: “it was not my desire to write a history, nor to acquire a reputation for veracity in that sphere; what I wanted to do was compose a panegyric in honor of this ruler [Constantine IX]” (240).
Focuses on what we might regard as trifles of domestic life among the imperial house. Author seemingly has privileged access during several of the regimes, so it might appear incongruous to us that the great events of state and empire are hurried over or omitted. Different times, different chymes, I guess. Text is chatty, replete with Shandean moments such as “But I am deviating somewhat from the main course of my narrative” (107), a course that is not always obvious.
The Chronographia begins with Basil II and treats that fifty year reign in 20 pages or so. Barely mentioned are the Bulgar wars, and instead the narrative concerns several civil wars, schematically presented.
The text really shines in author’s frequent asides, such as in describing a controversy over the cause of the death of Phocas (whether Basil poisoned him vel non): “For my own part, I prefer to express no opinion on the subject and ascribe all glory to the Mother of the Word” (37).
All I recall from the short section on three-year reign of Constantine VIII is the number of arbitrary blindings and castrations.
Six-year reign of Romanus III begins with an awesome aside: “From now on the history [i.e., as presented in the Chronographia!] will be more accurate than hitherto, for the Emperor Basil died when I was a baby, while Constantine ended his reign just after I had begun my elementary studies. So I was never admitted to their presence, nor did I hear them speak” (63). I think this means that he’s writing the text from memory, rather than with rigorous reference to any other writings. By the time of Romanus III, Psellus is already talking about other persons who “added their own quota of evil as fuel to the general conflagration fired by their ruler” (71)--so, yeah, not happy times!
Romanus III wanted to build a temple to dwarf the Hagia Sofia, and in attempting to do so, “reduced everything else to ruin” (74). Psellus makes him a marker of imperial degradation insofar as “the whole of his body became festering and corrupted inside” (80), leading to his death, wherein “his mouth gaped open and there flowed gently from it some dark-colored, coagulated matter”--which strikes me as an early sighting of the black oil from the X-Files. Ancient aliens FTW!
Punchline for the description of Michael IV is that, “in my opinion, derived from a more than human prescience and direction - the fact, I mean, that the succession to the throne fell to the Caesar, and not to any other member of the family, because God knew it was through the Caesar that the whole family would be annihilated” (105). Alrighty then!
Twenty-page treatment of the one-year reign of Michael V is highlighted by a great digression on astrology: “Certain predictions were then offered to persons who asked for advice and their questions were answered. In some cases, too, they did indeed hit on the correct answer. I say this, because I myself have some knowledge of the science, a knowledge acquired after long and diligent research, and I have been of some assistance to many of these men and helped them to understand the planetary aspects. Despite this, I am no believer in the theory that our human affairs are influenced by the movement of stars” (133-34)--so, not exactly the most faithful interlocutor. (Another astrology polemic at 266-67: “it was no scientific reason that made me give up these ideas, but rather was I restrained by some divine force. It was not a matter of logical argument - and I certainly pay no attention to other methods of proof.”)
Lengthy discussion of the one-year reign of Zoe & Theodora admits that: “To put it quite candidly (for my present purpose is not to compose a eulogy, but to write an accurate history [!]) neither of them was fitted by temperament to govern. They neither knew how to administer nor were the capable of serious argument on the subject of politics. For the most part they confused the trifles of the harem with important matters of state” (157), which is of course a fine characterization of certain historical writings composed from memory, maybe.
Centerpiece is 100-page narration of author’s patron Constantine Monomachus. Passed over without the slightest mention is the schism of 1054. Noted: “It must be clear that in this account I have repeatedly passed over many great events that occurred during this period” (237-38). (Later, again: “I have inadvertently passed over many things” (372)--which occurs just after the place in the narrative where we should have received a description of Manzikert. WTF!)
Admits that some may consider him a “scandalmonger” (166)--I’ve had a hard time distancing him from Procopius, to be honest, on the basis of this presentation. Reminiscent of Ayn Rand when he states that “And you, who read my history today, will bear witness to the truth of my words. Philosophy, when I first studied it, was moribund as far as its professors were concerned, and I alone revived it, untutored by any masters worthy of mention” (173). Humility is not a Roman virtue, apparently.
Describes Athenian democracy as “inscribed on the citizen rolls [are] the names not only of the best persons and men of noble birth, but also of people whose origin is obscure” (225). In the Eastern Roman Empire, however, “this excellent practice has been contemptuously abandoned, and nobility counts for nothing. The process of corruption has been going on in the Senate for a long time; it is, in fact, a heritage of the past, for Romanus was the first to encourage the kind of confusion we see now. Today citizenship is open to all” (id.). Indeed, “our great offices of state are entrusted not to men of the stamp of Pericles, or Themistocles, but to worthless scamps like Spartacus” (226). Ergo: dude would preserve the anti-egalitarian aspects of Athenian democracy.
Author as Hero: “Many a time the emperor entrusted to me secret dispatches and ordered me to write them for him” (253). (And again at 267.) Nice digression on rhetoric and another on the typology of “souls” in Book VI.
Final section, Book VII, is a whirlwind tour of six emperors (Michael VI, Isaac Komnenos, Constantine X, Eudocia, Romanus IV, Michael VII). By the time we get to Isaac’s rebellion against Mikey VI, the “greater part of the nation had been changed from men into beasts” (310). Author has some hope that Isaac will regenerate the state, but he dies. Thereafter, just a toilet-spiral, apparently, until 1453--though Psellus ends abruptly in 1078, kinda like the dwarves’ book in Moria.
Recommended for those who avoided the despicable feminine trait of talkativeness, persons somewhat indiscriminate in the infliction of blinding as a punishment, and readers naturally inclined to sexual indulgence, but find no satisfaction in cheap harlotry.
A fantastic example of just why the adjective 'byzantine' has all the connotations it does in English. If you only read one book written in the 11th century this year, read this one.
Michael Psellus was the equivalent of one of those polymath technocrats who put the EU together - a man educated as far as possible as it was possible to be educated in his society, hovering at an exalted position in the corridors of power in administration after administration. It made me feel a little bit better about our world seeing the appalling way the society of this rolled gold genius was organised and the way his well-intentioned efforts usually made things worse. After the Battle of Manzikert, in the most vivid example, it seems in retrospect that his political advice was one of the factors ensuring that it would be “the most decisive disaster in byzantine history”. This book was a melancholy reminder, if I needed one, that people of great ability are often doomed to live their whole lives in times and places that are lurching inexorably suckwards.
Sometimes Psellus writes as a philosopher; sometimes as a medical doctor; sometimes as a historian making overt protestations of objectivity; sometimes as a sycophant; and sometimes he is just swept off into faerieland by his own writing.
The writing – at least in Sewter’s translation – is magnificent. It reminds me of Evelyn Waugh. I am really tempted to use up my whole 20000 characters with long quotes. Here is just one:
There is also a third class of people, with a finer temperament. If trouble should come upon them surreptitiously, it does not catch them unprepared. Certainly their ears are not dimmed with the crashes and noise around and outside them. Trouble does not scare them, cannot cow them into surrender. On the contrary, when all others have given up in despair, these persons stand imperturbable in the face of peril, relying for support not on material things, but on the soundness of reason and on their own superior judgment. I must admit, though, that so far I have not met with men of that sort in my lifetime.
Psellus seems the most modern of Byzantine historians. The others had great passions: Procopius hated the Empress Theodora; Anna Comnena revered her royal family, especially her father; Nicetas Choniates was bitter about how far his great city had fallen. Although his book is not without its entertaining moments, Psellus' greatest passion seems to have been himself. Perhaps his book is the earliest of the memoir of power that seeks to revise history. Not that he knew all fourteen rulers he wrote about personally. The early part seems to be that old trick of the ancients, copying the histories of older writers. But he was a participant at court, even taking a hand in the succession a few times. He takes sides -- Psellus constantly lauds the eccentricities of Constantine IX, who was a bit of friend, and who everyone else seems to think was inept, and gave himself a central role in the accession of Isaac Comnenus. Of all the characters he knew, the most interesting was the Empress Zoe, who it is believed helped drown one Emperor-husband and married a successor the following day, and was well-known for maintaining large perfume and ointment laboratories. Psellus, characteristically, omits the rationale for his temporary disgrace (he was subject to only one of the two usual Byzantine punishments short of death; he was sent to a monastery, but not blinded), or how he emerged from it to return to court. For all the careful nourishment of his reputation (and those of his royal patrons'), the manuscript breaks off in mid-story, clearly interrupted, and we don't know for certainty so much as when he died.
Despite his frequent protestations that he does not wish to write an account of his own deeds but a true and proper history of his times, the monstrous ego of our narrator nevertheless compels him to do so at every opportunity. The advice of this best-loved councillor of emperors was therefore supposedly behind many a triumph whilst many a disaster could have been avoided had only his advice been heeded. Others, as the foot notes make clear, tell a different story. Having enjoyed Psellus' account of the 10th Century Byzantine court immensely I will now have to track down a copy of John Skilitzes chronicle to get the alternative view.
Psellus begins his imperial chronicle at the tail end of what’s generally considered a golden age period for Byzantium, under the strict paternal brow of Basil II, who ruled for a stable and prosperous 49 years. Following Basil’s death, Psellus captures a long period of decay, turmoil and instability, with special focus on the tumultuous and cutthroat world of palace politics, where anything goes - from betrayals to marital infidelity to rumors of poisoning and hot tub assassinations.
His account - unbound by modern notions of good taste - can be, in a word, quite unhinged. Political rivals can be hyperbolically and viciously attacked even beyond what modern standards allow, and emperors can be described in decidedly unflattering terms both physically and psychologically. In particular, he doesn’t shy away from the gruesome details of illness and body decay. Fitting, since at one point he describes the entire bureaucratically overloaded political apparatus as a sickened body, fatty, swollen and bilious. The lingering impression left is of the generalized folly and childishness of people playing dress up in gold and purple.
Mikael Psellos er utvilsom en av mine favorittromerske forfattere. Dette er andre gang jeg leser hans Chronographia. Med unntak av en del sagalitteratur er det sjeldent jeg leser bøker om igjen – min ønskeliste av uleste bøker er dessverre (?) uendelig stor. Men med Psellos gjør jeg gjerne et unntak. Universalgeniet fra Konstantinopel skriver lett og engasjerende og det er en fryd å lese! Han er så til stede i teksten med observasjoner, meninger og fortellinger fra eget liv at det føles som om man blir kjent med denne mannen fra fortiden.
I Chronographia forteller Psellos historien til de 14 keiserne og keiserinnene som styrte det østromerske riket fra 976 til 1078. I følge ham selv ble han oppfordret av senatorer og kirkens menn i skrive sin tids historie. Denne oppgaven tok han ikke lett på:
"I was not particularly enthusiastic for the undertaking. It was not that I was lazy, but I was afraid of two alternatives, neither of which could be disregarded; I might pass over, for reasons which I will explain later, things done by certain individuals, or distort my account of them, and so be convicted not of writing a history but of mere fabrication, as if I were composing a play; or I might go to extreme lengths in hunting down the truth, and so become a laughing-stock to the critics."
Han begynner sitt verk med regjeringstiden til Basileios II (976-1025). En keiser han aldri selv møtte, men Basileios utgjør et unntak i så måte. For Psellos ble etter hvert godt plassert i maktens sentrum i hovedstaden. Følgelig kom han i nær kontakt med de fleste keiserne og keiserinnene han skrev om. Han er akutt klar over viktigheten av avgrensningens kunst:
"It is no part of the historian's duty to give a minute account of all that is said or done, nor is he required to write on what are comparative trifles. Where details are of little consequence, they belong to the province of the critic where they give occasion for praise, it is the panegyrist who must use them. If I have a few times made use of details myself – the sort which I am advising historians to shun - that need cause no surprise, for the province of history has no positive, clearly-defined boundaries. There may be places where it is even right to indulge in digression or parenthesis. For all that, the historian should waste no time in returning to his narrative. The important thing is to concentrate on the subject, and treat everything else with reserve."
Boka er en skattekiste av underholdende, rørende og fascinerende scener. Her vil jeg trekke frem hendelse som fint illustrerer Psllos' tilstedeværelse og tekstens umiddelbarhet. Keiser Mikael VI sender Psellos av gårde for å forhandle med en opprører kalt Isak Komnenos. Ved hjelp av sine retoriske ferdigheter virker det som om Psellos har klart å overbevise Isak om å komme til et kompromiss. Men mens Psellos er i Isaks leir blir keiseren kastet fra tronen i Konstantinopel. Frykten som griper Psellos i det øyeblikket blir formidlet på en måte som er umiddelbart gjenkjennelig:
"How my fellow-ambassadors passed that night I cannot say, but to me life seemed hopeless and I thought it was a matter of minutes before I should be sacrificed like a beast. You see, I knew that everyone was violently angry with me: there could be no escape. I would perish miserably, and all manner of throat-shtting and maiming would be my lot. Above all I was afraid of the new emperor. Perhaps he would recall the things I had said to him, and how I had persuaded him to remain an ordinary citizen; probably he would subject me to all kinds of vengeance and torture. So, while everyone else bad dropped off to sleep, I waited in solitude for my executioners. At the slightest sound of a voice or any noise round my tent, I was at once petrified with fear, thinking death was at hand. When the greater part of the night had passed in this way -I had no idea the time had elapsed - and when the dawn was about to break, I recovered somewhat, for it seemed a lesser evil to die in the light of day. Bending forward a little to peep out of my tent, I saw watch-fires burning and round the emperor's quarters lighted lamps. There was hurry and bustle everywhere, for the whole army had been ordered to make ready and pack for the journey to the capital. The sun had not yet risen, when suddenly Isaac rode out on horseback and we too left camp, not in his immediate entourage, but in the rear."
Hva skjer så med Psellos? Vel, det skal jeg ikke avsløre her. Les boka og finn ut. Chronographia anbefales på det sterkeste til alle historienerder!
‘Do you really believe’, he said, ‘that this imperial robe has been put on me with my approval? Do you think that if it were possible for me to run away I would refuse to escape?’
A history book written a thousand years ago called ‘Fourteen Byzantine Rulers: The Chronographia of Michael Psellus’, does not, admittedly, sound like a page-turner. So imagine, rather, a strange, bloody fairy tale that could begin: ‘Long ago, in a land far away, there lived an old Emperor who had three daughters. The second of these, and the most beautiful, was named Zoë.’
The story of Zoë, her sisters and her numerous husbands and lovers takes up the majority of the book. The tale involves at least one assassination, many more blindings, a nun snatched unwillingly from a convent to be crowned Empress, a love affair between a court jester and an Alan princess, perfume, poison, revolts, wars and a seemingly endless line of plotting courtiers.
As one of those plotting courtiers, the author Michael Psellus is an eyewitness, and even a key player in many of the most dramatic events recounted. That is something of a double-edged sword, since although we are granted unparalleled access to the events in the imperial palace, it is often difficult to trust that he is being entirely candid. That is most evident in the latter part of the book, focused on the Dukas family, where his account of the still-reigning Emperor Michael VII reads as pure hagiography:
‘As I write these words, I find myself overcome by the same emotions as I often feel when I am in his presence: the same wonder thrills me. Indeed, it is impossible for me not to admire him. And I would ask my readers not to distrust my account, nor to regard with suspicion the words that I shall presently write here, because they are penned during this emperor’s lifetime. The very reason why I undertook to write this history was, in fact, none other than this, that men might know there exists a human nature of such divinity, one that far surpasses all others that we have ever known before.’ (This is undercut somewhat by the translator’s footnote which begins ‘The truth is that Michael [VII] was a despicable person’).
In discussing those safely entombed Psellus seems more even-handed and - despite some occasional self-promotion - he is a terrific storyteller and an insightful guide to the imperial power politics of Constantinople in the high Middle Ages.
As the name would suggest, this book is about 14 Byzantine rulers, from Basil II to Michael VII (976-1078). In the decades from Basil’s death in 1025 to wherever Psellos leaves off in Michael’s reign, the Byzantine Empire falls from economic and military success and stability not seen since Heraclian times, to a historic collapse from which it would never recover.
At the center of it all is Psellos himself, a courtier and later monk who was in the inner circles of most emperors/empresses from Constantine IX Monomachos (1042-55) onwards.
For people who are concerned with ‘historical accuracy’ this may not be the book for you: Psellos is avowedly biased in favor of his favorites, spending pages trying to justify how the inept Constantine IX was in fact a good emperor, and inserting himself as a causal agent in all events. Whilst he was politically influential the extent to which he does so is oftentimes comical (for instance, it is his rhetoric that personally persuades Isaac I Komnenos to abandon his rebellion and accept Michael VI Bringas’ terms, and 2 years later him to personally persuades Komnenos to abdicate). Likewise there is an amusing passage where ‘for the benefit of the narrative’ he deems is necessary to interrupt the narrative and expound on his own education for several pages. Another highlight is when he (a civilian burocrat, who implausibly appears to have been taken on campaign) criticises Romanos IV Diogenes’ military tactics on the basis of having read about military tactics in books. Then again, would be hard for a general to perform worse at Manzikert than Romanos IV.
Indeed, there is little mention of military events, and those which where mentioned are often described vaguely without date or location. Rather, what we have is a vivid array of character studies of 14 individuals and various supporting characters, which bring 11th century Byzantium to life.
Psellos’ style, which he professes to tread a middle line between the dissolute Roman histories and the functional contemporaneous histories, is very readable. There are certain passages of great beauty and nobility; Constantine’s stoic acceptance of blinding juxtaposed with his nephew Michael V’s cowardice, and Isaac I Komnenos’ triumphal sunrise journal to Byzantium are stirring.
I grant you that Byzantine history is a rather niche subject, and for those who do read it, as non-academics, the subject generally is either the Emperor Justinian or the fall of the city in 1453. The fact that there is something like a thousand years in between is something that generally seems to have been missed by Western European readers. Within Byzantine history, the 11th century is probably even more niche. The Chronographia was written by Michael Psellus, who was a key player in the Empire’s history. It covers the period from the accession of the Emperor Basil II (the Bulgar Slayer) in 976AD to the threat of deposition to the Emperor Michael VII in 1078. In English history that would cover the period from the accession of Ethelred II the Unready in 978AD to the reign of William the Conqueror. Ethelred II was famously a disaster. His mother murdered his way to the throne. His kingdom was overrun by the Danes under Sweyn Forkbeard and his son, Canute. He did, however, fulfil one of the first duties of a monarch. He had sixteen children. Seven were killed before Ethelred II died, and two were killed in battle with Canute. Basil II, on the other hand, fought off all his enemies, even overrunning the Tsardom of Bulgaria. But he did not marry and he did not have any children to secure the dynasty. His brother Constantine did marry and had three daughters. Basil II did not arrange any marriages for them. Eudoxia retired to a convent and then died. Zoe did not marry until she was 50 and when she was well past childbearing age, and Theodora did not marry at all. There was no successor for the Macedonian dynasty. In what was a hereditary autocracy, that was a recipe for power-grabs and civil war. Psellus says that he is writing a history, nit a panegyric for the various Emperors and Empresses. He was certainly in a good position to do so. From the reign of Romanus III (1028-1034) he was involved in the business of governing the Empire, and from the reign of Michael VI (1056-1057) he was a leading figure of that government. He does however have the views and prejudices of his time. He makes it clear that he is of the view that only the nobles should be involved in the government, and is very dismissive of people who he thinks are of low birth. As for the idea of reigning Empresses, he is appalled. This is unfortunate, because he had to deal with three of them, two of whom were rather good at the job. It should also be noted that when the Empresses married, their husbands became Emperor and took over the business of government. This was not necessarily an improvement. Psellus does not give an analysis of the problems which were confronting the Byzantine Empire in the eleventh century. Basically, it was very rich and attracted the attention of its neighbours, who were constantly trying to raid its territory. This meant that part of the need of government was to maintain a strong army and navy to repel these attacks. This meant that the Empire had to have the resources to pay for this. Basil II apparently left a full treasury, but his successors allowed the funds to be squandered and allowed taxes to be embezzled. Psellus praises the Emperors for their generosity which allowed them to buy popularity. It did not however lead to firm or even long-lasting government. Of the 14 Emperors and Empresses, one reigned for 50 years, which means that 13 reigned for a total of 52 years. Some of them barely lasted a year. The Empress Zoe reigned for 22 years, but she married three times and her husbands automatically became Emperors, that is Romanus III, Michael IV and Constantine IX. Michael IV arranged for his nephew to be adopted, who became the Emperor Michael V, hoping to solve the succession crisis, but he did not last a year. Psellus claims that he understands military strategy. He does not seem to have understood what Constantine IX Monomachus was doing when he allowed an attacking fleet of Russian Vikings from Kiev to sail into the Propontis from the Bosphorus. Constantine IX then sailed his fleet into the Propontis, trapping the Vikings and destroyed their fleet with Greek Fire. We do not know what the ingredients were (the Byzantine Emperors kept that a secret, which died with the last Emperor in 1453). It was some kind of incendiary device that was catapulted onto enemy ships, destroying them. Constantine IX did not have to worry about the Kievan Rus again. There are some strange omissions from the text. There is no mention of the conquest of the Byzantine territories in Italy by Robert Guiscard, nor of the conquest of Sicily from the Saracens by his successors, the Hauteville kings. There is no mention of their attacks on Epirus on the Adriatic coast. Even more astonishing is that the destruction of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, the holiest site in Christendom, in 1009 by the Fatimid Caliph Al-Hakim is not mentioned. [Al Hakim is a controversial figure in both Islamic and Christian histories]. This can be explained because it happened in the reign of Basil II, and Psellus freely admits that he cannot say much about the reign of Basil II because it was before his time. Even so, I would have thought that this deserved a mention in a chronicle by an Orthodox monk. Psellus’ concentration is on events in Constantinople itself. That is a limitation, book it is what makes the book fascinating. Psellus is very fulsome in his praise of the Ducas emperors. This is hardly surprising as he was a leading figure in making sure that they secured the throne. This is especially the case after the defeat and capture of the Emperor Romanus IV Diogenes at the Battle of Manzikert by the Sultan Alp Arslan. Psellus says that Alp Arslan released the Emperor to demonstrate his virtue. In my view, it was my likely that he wished to ensure that the Byzantine Empire was distracted while he waged war on the Sultanate of Bokhara. Whatever the reason, Romanus IV tried to repossess his throne, which Michael VII had seized. Michael Psellus was one of the leading supporters of Michael VII, and took a leading role in his administration. The last chapter is full of praise for the Emperor and his family. The Chronicle ends abruptly with a letter from Michael VII to Nicephorus Phocas who has risen in rebellion. Michael VII was overthrown and Nicephorus Phocas became Emperor, known as Nicephorus III. We do not know what happened to Michael Psellus. There is the possibility that he could have been blinded and imprisoned in a monastery, but he could have dictated the rest of his chronicle. It is more likely that he was murdered, quietly in some prison cell, rather than being publicly executed. The eleventh century was clearly a period of political and dynastic turmoil in the history of the Byzantine Empire. It was to end with the Emperor Alexius I Comnenus, the successor to Nicephorus III, as a direct result of the policies of the Caliph Al Hakim inviting a Crusade to capture Jerusalem. In 1099, the Crusaders stormed the city.
This is a fun read. Very simple prosaic delivery and unadorned presentation of various soap-operas and political intrigues from the 1000's and 1100's. The age of Byzantium!
The Byzantine Empire certainly is fascinating. A heady mixture of pagan impulses and Christian idolatry. Soothsayers, chiromancers, and astrologers-- combined with saints, priests, cathedrals, penitents, nunneries, and hermits.
This strange era yielded ferocious sea-battles, military campaigns, barbarians-at-the-gates, sieges, feasts, wrong-doers sent into eternal exile; poisonings, people going around with daggers concealed in their cloaks. There's frequent eye-gougings, brandings-with-hot-irons, immolation, castration, forced-exiles, monastic confinement, banishment. There are terrible plagues and debilitating sicknesses; agonizing, illnesses ending in agonizing deaths. It was a harsh world.
Psellus himself is somewhat of an oddball: growing up in Constantinople at the end of the reign of Romanus; and then ambitiously making of himself something of an orator, scribe, royal messenger, royal envoy; practicer of rhetoric; and eventually the close companion to several of monarchs in succession.
However, he then chose to abandon courtly life for the monastery. Perhaps it was the safest course back then, (especially if you wanted to keep your eyes from being gouged out, or your testicles from being cut off).
Nevertheless, in the pages of these biographies he lacks somewhat the humility of the monk. He is not a little flattering to himself. Self-pride was certainly his one weakness. Whenever possible, he delights in explaining how certain bits of gossip came to his ears; what role he was performing at the time; who whispered-what-to-whom. The vanity on display and the relish of court-gossip weakens the narrative greatly.
Psellus is just not all that likeable. He's effeminate and mincing; repeatedly offering sly confidences as to how adored his speeches and writings were by all who ever heard them; how all his utterings were likened to the finest music; etc.
He boasts of his studies of astronomy, botany, zoology, law, rhetoric, and philosophy; who his illustrious mentors were; on and on and on. There are several of these digressions each lasting 5-7 pages at a shot...one can safely skim over these episodes and get back to Zoe, Theodora, the Michaels, John the Eunuch, and Basil. Ribald, kooky, blood-soaked rulers who's names are unknown to modern ears today.
I do admire the frequent and outspoken disapproval (by Psellus) towards those empresses and emperors who so often let their sexual passion and their 'favorites' (bed-partners) get in the way of wise, temperate administration. You can hardly blame the writer; seeing the Roman treasury depleted every few years for some cheap trollope or pretty-boy consort must have been fairly galling. It's a good reminder of the ills of monarchies in general.
Were this book more widely known; today's "special-interest groups" and "lobbyists" would have rip this tome apart with their objections and whining. (You will only see these shenanigans on Goodreads; thankfully; since a book like this will never be taught in our schools).
However, this same quality also makes it--unfortunately--the kind of book which we can't even guarantee future descendants will ever savor. It's far too blunt. But its wonderful reading as far as I'm concerned. So, enjoy it while you can.
The "Chronographia" ("Times," as in "my times"; trans, E.R.A. Sewter, 1953, usually seen around in the Penguin edition) of Michael Psellus (1018-96?), along with the Alexiad of Anna Comnena (also trans. E.R.A. Sewter, usually you see the 1969 edition), constitute two towering historical works written in the Middle Ages. Psellus, who was a courtier, tutor of emperors in Constantinople, and held other posts, covers the period from Basil II (reigned 976-1025) to about 1078, roughly 100 years. He was not only a recorder of events, but took part in them, in some cases stood by the emperors, and frequently saw first-hand what was happening on the streets in New Rome (Constantinople). One of the mysteries of this period is how Constantinople, which one might argue was the strongest power west of China at the death of Basil II in 1025, with control of territories stretching from Armenia to the gates of Rome, by the end of the 11th century collapsed--or at least fell under severe stress--to the point of losing all territories in Italy, half of Asia Minor, and so on. Psellus sheds some light on this precipitous decline (and indeed, may he not share some of the blame for it? Since Emperor Michael was his student, he participated in the mobilization of Emperor Romanus IV, and so on--). Students of this period usually point to the battle of Manzikert (Aug 26 1071), against the Seljuk Turks, as a turning point for the eastern empire, but why was the "Roman" army of 1071 so inferior to the army of 1025? Further, scholars have asked, even if the battle was lost and the emperor captured (that didn't help, definitely), those setbacks should not have led to the loss of so much territory. Why did they? Both Psellus and the later account of Anna Comnena (who was aware of the account of Psellus and mentions him by name; indeed you might say her account could not have been written without his example) sometimes leave out names and other details. These members of the court (Psellus was later forced to go into a monastery; Anna Comnena failed to secure the crown for her husband or herself) are not free to tell us everything. I cannot resist adding one personal note (me, retired DOD), pertaining to John, brother of Emperor Michael IV (1034-41): Psellus relates (93) that whenever anyone brought John information that was vital to the state, "he used to pretend he had known it a long time ago, and then upbraid the man for his slowness." Oh boy, the bureaucracy was the same 1000 years ago! I have yet to read Anna Comnena's work, but that's on my shelf. See what you think of the account of Psellus. Enjoy!
"I believe the house is doomed when the mortar that binds its bricks together becomes loose... although the start of the trouble passes unnoticed by the majority."
A palace-centric history of the Byzantine empire covering the period 976-1078, during which every imaginable treachery, scandal, wealth-squandering and malicious cruelty seems to have taken place. Psellus often reads a bit like Suetonius in how he manages to embody a vast story of empire into the lives of a few select individuals, but (thanks to the likes of Empress Zoe) there is much more eye-gouging.
"Cut down the governors who become over- proud. Let no generals on campaign have too many resources. Exhaust them with unjust exactions, to keep them busied with their own affairs. Admit no woman to the imperial councils. Be accessible to no one. Share with few your most intimate plans."
Psellus himself often takes a central role in some of the key troubles of these times, and these passages in particular make for great reading, especially the siege of Tornicius against Constantine IX and the defence of Michael VI against Isaac. As a writer he occupies a rather curious position, Psellus seems to have had one foot in the classical tradition and another in the Christian, and then attempted to reconcile and apply the two to rather practical and pressing affairs of state. As such, his considerable learning often seems to carry him only so far... and for all the noble qualities of many emperors (Michael IV among them) this book does feel like an uphill struggle against a dark and self-serving 'deep state' of Eunuchs and sycophants.
Byzantine intellectual, chief minister and court tutor Michael Psellus claims to be writing history but this is a far cry from an objective chronological account. His focus is rather the characters of the individual emperors and how they measure up the ideal philosopher-king type ruler that the platonic scholars of the time placed high value on. Thus the idle and pleasure-loving Constantine IX and X get high praise (also due in no small part to the fact that both helped further his career). He's head-over-heels for his pupil Michael VII, who by all accounts sounds like a real wimp. The biographies of the Ducas are essentially eulogies. Military affairs are glossed over and abbreviated as much as possible.
The Chronographia has value as a window into the outlook and values of the courtiers in Constantinople: the one's who were generally running the show in the 11th century. It's easy to read: a tribute to the excellent translation. However it is biased and any sense of the state of the empire beyond the walls of the palace is extremely vague. It's also a testament to the chronic dysfunction at the heart of the empire at a time when it could least afford it.
Note: The Penguin edition hasn't been updated since the 1960s and includes a not-very-useful map (not that one's really needed), some bare family trees (with errors) and some basic footnotes which are sometimes helpful, occasionally suspicious. Needs an update!
How much primary source material for history is really "primary"? A lot of it is second hand, or decades or even centuries in the past. So be careful.
That said, Psellus' Chronographia is entertaining both because of the stories he tells about the various Byzantine emperors and empresses during the gaudy, corrupt, and doomed eleventh century, and because of how he reveals his own brilliant, self-important, narcissistically wounded personality.
Do you really need to understand the way the Byzantine Empire lost its mojo and a lot of its key territories to Seljuk Turks in order to navigate the modern world? Probably not. But for an example of how elites can neglect the tedious, essential, thankless tasks of maintaining an empire in favor of political infighting, extravagant purchases, and sexual intrigues, the book will always be relevant.
I read this book a few decades ago, on a trip to some of the territories of the old Byzantine Empire, during which an emotional relationship came to an emotionally draining end, so it may retain some of the hectic inanity of my personal life, but great works are fractal, reflecting both our grand ambitions and our petty failures.
This is a marvelously detailed account of when the mighty Byzantine Empire started to go pretty literally down the toilet, culminating in the awful defeat of Manzikert in 1071 when the Anatolian peninsula was largely lost to the Seljuk Turks. Michael Psellus provides the reader with a literal, you are there perspective, privileged to be an eyewitness to many crucial events in the Greek empire's devolution, from the death of the powerful Emperor Basil followed by a succession of various weak or otherwise flawed rulers. Fans of Byzantine history will find plenty to revel in here, with graphic accounts of palace intrigues, military revolts, blindings, maimings and any other number of horrid tortures, a former Emperor forced to abdicate and don a monk's cowl, and so forth in the same cruel vein. Psellus recounts one event after another, often digressing to lay a deeper background for incidents he's about to describe, a practice that can seem tedious, but is rewarded by continued reading. Even if you don't care anything about this one period of medieval history, it's still quite an entertaining read.
Criticized by some historians for his overweening ambition and political duplicity, Psellus made lasting contributions to Byzantine culture, including the reform of the university curriculum to emphasize the Greek classics, especially the Homeric literature that, with Platonist thought, he interpreted as precursory to Christian revelation. Manifesting encyclopaedic knowledge, Psellus composed treatises and poetry, all characterized by forceful and sometimes virulent expression, on themes in theology, philosophy, grammar, law, medicine, mathematics, and the natural sciences.
The chronographia, recounts the events from the accession of the emperor Basil II in 976 to that of Nicephorus III. Psellus’ most enduring legacy, however, was his reversal of emphasis from Aristotelian thought (as promoted by the 9th-century patriarch Photius) to the Platonic tradition. With this change, Byzantine thought returned to the idealism of early Greek Christianity as exemplified by the 4th-century Cappadocian school of Gregory of Nazianzus and Gregory of Nyssa.
Źródło historyczne o bardzo ciekawym stylu i charakterze. W nim podobne nieco do Historii Sekretnej Prokopiusza z Cezarei, jednak nie tak brutalne i bezpośrednie. Idące bardziej w stronę pamiętnika i pomnika Michała Psellosa dla samego siebie, będąc jednocześnie przedstawieniem życia dworskiego stolicy Cesarstwa. Świetna pozycja dla ludzi szukających czegoś innego niż opisy bitew i działań politycznych. Źródło skupia się na ocenie panujących cesarzy i cesarzowych. Psellos będąc na dworze cesarskim przekazuje wiele faktów. Dzięki Michałowi można poczuć piękno stolicy, jednocześnie odczuwając blichtr i przepych. Michał skupiał się na opisie wyglądu postaci, dodatkowo opisując ich charakter. Władców oceniał szczerze i czasami w dość ostrych słowach. Nie bał się przekazywać historii romansów i innych dworskich intryg których nie uświadczymy w innych źródłach w takiej ilości. Pozycja przy której czytelnik często zaśmieje się w głos. Przekazuje wiele ciekawostek dotyczących zainteresowań najważniejszych ludzi w państwie oraz ich stosunków na stopie prywatnej.
Psellus es uno de las grandes hombres de las letras y la política de su tiempo. Su crónica que se ha transformado en este libro con su narración de la vida de 14 emperadores en los primeros años del segundo milenio es espectacular. Es una gran ventana para ver el mundo de la corte imperial en Bizancio, con todos los chismes e intrigas políticas, los errores y desastres que fueron desangrando al poderoso Imperio Romano del oriente.
Psellus fue un hombre de poder, un hacedor y educador de emperadores, un gran conocedor del mundo clásico, filosofo, historiador, medico, diplomático y ante todo político. Las historias de Psellus son un gran ejemplo de como los imperios más poderosos se destruyen así mismos desde dentro, por las ambiciones sin medida de sus lideres, por sus divisiones internas, por el descuido de las funciones del Estado y el descuido de sus arcas.
Si les gusta el chisme, la política y la historia es un relato imperdible.
"I myself admire the inflexibility of such a mind, but its proper place, in my opinion, lies not in time, but in eternity: not in this present life, but in the existence hereafter. The absolutely unemotional and the completely inexorable, I believe, are above all the spheres, outside the circumference of the universe. But human life, just because it is lived in the wider circle of society, is better fitted to encounter the vicissitudes of its present existence -- in other words, the emotional element in the soul reacts harmoniously to the physical stimuli in the body."
Probably unbeatable as a look into 11th century Byzantine political and intellectual life. Psellos himself is a fascinatingly self-important figure with the wit to match. By the end, he seems like a classic pompous, Nabokovian unreliable narrator.
This books feels much more personal and modern than other ancient and medieval books I have read. It’s a lot of fun to read one man’s often candid description of emperors who ruled the byzantine empire a thousand years ago. There are some notes in the book regarding Psellus’ unfairness in his assessments of the emperors, but this only makes it more personal and interesting.
What you will get is a history of the biggest events in Byzantium from the reign of Basil II to almost the end of the 11th century. Almost no emperors are spared scathing remarks or denouncement of some deed, and Psellus himself was personally involved in several of these events. It's a fascinating peek into a world long gone.
A very enjoyable window into the Byzantine politics before the Crusades, seen through a well-spoken, but biased and conceited man (but very modern mind that is easy to relate to). If you like history to come alive through eyewitnesses, this is a book worth perusing. Byzantine politics are less deadly, but with a lot of gouging out eyes or forcing people into becoming monks or nuns before being promptly dispatched to a far away monastery. And there are many instances of ruling by proxy which usually end up in new power struggles.
Michael Psellus presents 80 or so years of Byzantine history from his point of view. It is interesting, provocative, and worth reading for the specialist. It is also biased (according to the translator who includes information from other sources via footnoting), fawning, often off-topic, digressing, and excusing his delivery as well. His book is worth a read, but take plenty of salt grains along for the ride.
This book is an amazing insight into Byzantium at a crucial period.
Psellus, a creature of court intrigue spends a truly bizarre amount of time talking about his own intelligence and influence. He appears to be always right, plays favourites and denigrates those he dislikes. He had limited interest in military affairs and so ignores almost all of the key military events of the Empire.