In this sumptuously illustrated book, Joan Breton Connelly gives us the first comprehensive cultural history of priestesses in the ancient Greek world. Connelly presents the fullest and most vivid picture yet of how priestesses lived and worked, from the most famous and sacred of them--the Delphic Oracle and the priestess of Athena Polias--to basket bearers and handmaidens. Along the way, she challenges long-held beliefs to show that priestesses played far more significant public roles in ancient Greece than previously acknowledged.
Connelly builds this history through a pioneering examination of archaeological evidence in the broader context of literary sources, inscriptions, sculpture, and vase painting. Ranging from southern Italy to Asia Minor, and from the late Bronze Age to the fifth century A.D., she brings the priestesses to life--their social origins, how they progressed through many sacred roles on the path to priesthood, and even how they dressed. She sheds light on the rituals they performed, the political power they wielded, their systems of patronage and compensation, and how they were honored, including in death. Connelly shows that understanding the complexity of priestesses' lives requires us to look past the simple lines we draw today between public and private, sacred and secular.
The remarkable picture that emerges reveals that women in religious office were not as secluded and marginalized as we have thought--that religious office was one arena in ancient Greece where women enjoyed privileges and authority comparable to that of men. Connelly concludes by examining women's roles in early Christianity, taking on the larger issue of the exclusion of women from the Christian priesthood. This paperback edition includes additional maps and a glossary for student use.
Joan Breton Connelly is an American classical archaeologist and Professor of Classics and Art History at New York University. She is Director of the Yeronisos Island Excavations and Field School in Cyprus. Connelly was awarded a MacArthur Fellowship in 1996. She received the Archaeological Institute of America Excellence in Undergraduate Teaching Award in 2007 and held the Lillian Vernon Chair for Teaching Excellence at New York University from 2002 to 2004.
A bit of a misnomer. The author is pulling together evidence over the entire known history of ancient Greek, Homeric, Archaic, Classical, Hellenistic and even Roman, right up to the conversion, and seeing what is known or can be deduced, including changes.
Heavy emphasis on the differences. For instance, any given priesthood was a job like a magistrate's. It could be held for a year, or even just a festival. Particularly the ones for the unmarried maidens, as they would go on to marry. (Many dedications by priestesses of Artemis mention their mothers had also been priestesses.) Longterm priestess posts were compatible with marriage and children. Longterm celibate ones were for the elderly and widowed. A woman could hold several, for different goddesses, over the term of her life.
Again like magistrates, the roles were part of your family's tradition, and the priestesses were often related because theirs were the powerful families that put them forth and sometimes even bought the priesthood for them. (The Python at Delphi was an unusual exceptions.) Selling them was one known way to fill them, we have inscriptions of advertisements for selling them. Though you could also get one because a relative was a benefactor of the city, supplying the festival, and choose you. There were also elections, selections from hereditary priestly families, sortition (choosing by lot). Their prerogatives and powers. Two priestesses were used date events at sanctuaries -- the fifth year of her being the priestess of Demeter and Kore at Eleusis. One city even used a priestess to date secular events in the city.
Changes were known. All dedications for "hearth initiates" at Eleusis from Classical times are for boys; only two of them in Hellenistic, as girls apparently took over. On the other hand, that we have evidence in the form of dedicated seats in the theater only in Hellenistic times is not proof that they did not attend earlier.
What they wore is an elaborate subject matter. Many sumptuary laws. Many of them dressed as the goddess they served. Given that many tales recount the goddesses appearing in the guise of priestesses, it greatly complicates interpretation of images. Priestesses are often identified because they carry a temple key, such as would unlock the temple with its rich votives. Priests, on the other hand, carried knives for sacrifice; actually slaughtering the sacrifice was so male that a Greek writer is carefully to assure his readers that the exception he had wrote about had occurred, and he had seen the chairs where the old women responsible sat while the victim was brought in.
Scholars in recent memory have almost universally concluded that ancient Greek women were marginalized, silent, almost invisible and confined to their households and to their roles as wives and mothers. While this may have been true in some cases, Joan Breton Connelly convincingly disproves this hypothesis in the case of a notable exception - the role of women in religious ritual. Connelly begins with the hypothesis that through participation in cult service, ancient Greek women were able to attain power and influence within the polis. She delineates significant evidence for the existence of priestesses and attributes modern scholarship's dismissal of this group to two seemingly divergent factors: Victorian sensibilities that considered women of lesser status, and feminists of the 1970s whose worldviews had been shaped by a male-dominated society. Connelly explains that not only did priestesses exist, but they were extremely influential. Ancient Greek priestesses came from the wealthiest and most aristocratic families of the Greek city-states and could be appointed, selected from a lottery (although even the lottery was only open to the most aristocratic candidates) or even purchased their religious offices. The cults were organized in a clearly demarcated hierarchy, from little girls who, as new initiates, served small roles as temple attendants, to priestesses of the most venerated shrines, such as Athena Polias or Demeter and Kore. The head priestess of a cult such as Athena Polias or Demeter and Kore would be expected to make significant financial contributions, and Connelly explains that these contributions often came from the priestess's private means, or, even if a female priesthood was financed through the priestess's male relatives, she seemed to have no trouble in accessing the money. With the financial expectations came significant remuneration. Priestesses were honored for their service, "as a good woman deserves," through financial compensation, the right to collect duties and penalties, a share in all sacrificial offerings to the goddess the priestess served, (often) a public coronation, reserved seats in the front row of the theater and sporting events, and the right to argue legal cases before the city's governing body. Priestesses were honored and revered during their lifetimes and commemorated after their deaths with lavish funerals and tombs, as well as portrait statues dedicated in a priestess's memory and given pride of place either in the sanctuary she served or in some public location. Using evidence from literature, historical documents, and uncovered statuary and other artifacts, Connelly portrays Greek priestesses as powerful, vocal women who occupied great prestige and exercised considerable influence in their communities.
Not a perfect book, but very good, and the conclusions in the end almost raised it to five stars for me. Refreshing to find an approach to the subject of women in Ancient Greece that is not narrowly ideological and actually wishes to understand ancient societies.
One thing drove me insane though...to have a lavishly illustrated book that most of the time does not give the approximate date and finding place of the sculptures, vase paintings, inscriptions etc that are shown and discussed!? Why? How? Who on earth can think it is a good idea to make the book unusable in that way? Which museum has the image now is useful additional information for further research, yes (could be added as an appendix), but the dating at least is essential info while reading the book.
Honestly, I have no words for how much this book blew my mind about women in antiquity. Scholarly books can be a bit of a challenge, but this one was so compelling that I couldn’t put it down. Conelly’s comparisons with Christianity made this book feel relevant and timely, like I was unlocking a history that pertains to my own as a Pagan girl who grew up Catholic. All in all, it just gave me a lot to think about- about our understanding of Hellenic religion, and of my own calling to sacred service.
Small thing but I was reading a random page and I saw a picture of a vase painting with a girl around my age- she was serving as a priestess of Demeter and Kore. My mind went, “I know her!!” and I got chills. Past lives are a mysterious thing…
This is a text book masquerading as a fun book. I loved it. I learned about traditional Greek cult practices that will inform my modern worship. It was a dense, meaty read that took a minute, but if you're interested in Greek polytheism, the role of women, or Ancient Greece, then this is one you should read.
There were some bad things about this book, and some good. The bad first:
I can't say that I enjoyed reading this. I did not. It was a little painful. Often times it was overkill. Connelly spent pages and pages talking about how priestesses carried temple keys. Delving into the visual record was interesting, but after four vases and three steles I was done: I began to lose focus and skyme because I was not really absorbing information anymore. The writing style was usually nice, but it got irritating at times for no particular reason. A lot of the opinions where well voiced however it annoyed me that she would present her own interpretations (or interpretations she agrees with is more accurate) then present the opposition then back up her own opinions but fail to provide any rebuttal/evidence for the other interpretation's reasoning. This is a good tactic, and it does not make her points any less valid, however it irritated me because it made the study look more objective than it was. Another thing I had a problem with was how casually she referred to a lot of Greek terms and made Grecian references without explaining them. Maybe this book was just too far over my level, but an example of what I mean is when she mentions hetaera and their festival as an example of something or other she does not explain to us lay people what hetaera are. I only remember that instance because I actually know about hetaera and was proud for getting to reference. It also bugged me that the notes and bib were half the size of the actual book, but in hindsight that was actually a good think, right? Finally, I must admit I am disappointed. I was hoping for a book that would help me see into all aspects of a Priestess's life, but most specifically what they do on a daily basis and how they interact with other temple personnel. Where do they live? Ect.
All that being said, you would think I would give it a one star. And honestly this staring was hard because all that said, it was a two. But there are some aspects of this book that are worthy of five stars.
The good: First, on my disappointment, I need to understand that the kind of information I am looking for is probably lost in time. Also, despite the fact that it made many references I could not catch it managed not to go over my head. I understood what I was reading, even if I did not understand every example. Connelly did a fantastic job of working with the material she had to form a conclusive picture of what it was like to be a Priestess. She addresses the major duties of Feminine Sacred Servants and gives lots of details where they are available. It is an awesome compilation of resources and I feel that after reading it I understand Greek religion and cult practices much better. It will be very useful. Connelly does a great job of "signposting" and this book is very organized. IT was easy to take notes from and I could skip things that I knew would be of no use to me. I am happy I read it and it was well worth the time I poured into it. There were lots of pictures and stories which made life easier. I appreciate that when she was guessing or unable to solidly prove an idea/interpretation with definitive evidence that she flat out said so. I also appreciate that she used a wealth of sources.
Read it, but keep a dictionary and google on hand.
I loved this book. Perhaps, at least partially, because it purported a theory I've held myself; namely that women in Ancient Greece had more of a life outside of the home than we have been led to understand. It is worth noting, however, that by far most of the evidence for this is from the 5th Century BCE through the Hellenistic and even Roman times. There is little evidence before that.
Citing the literary evidence; plays, poems and fragments of other writings, concerning a variety of female dominated religious festivals, the author makes the case that women were not only active outside of the oikos but also honored and respected. Most of the epigraphic evidence cited is for priestesses but those women, while from well-to-do and respected families, were more numerous than one would think. Those positions often experienced frequent turnover.
Beyond the persuasive text, this title has stunning illustrations. It is full of photos, drawings, and images that support the author's inescapable conclusions.
This is a gorgeous book! Not only is it insightful, it provides detailed and beautiful artwork and photos of archaeological finds. The hardcover edition is a big book, appropriately sized for a coffee table if one should choose.
When we moderns look back at the world of antiquity, we tend to view it anachronistically through the lens of our preconceptions and therefore to stress above all the role of the political and altogether to miss the centrality of the religious to the ancients. Yet the dynastic maneuverings, political affairs and military exploits we so sedulously survey in the histories represent but a veneer covering what for most contemporaries would have been the implacable inertia of everyday life, which for a pagan prior to the disenchantment brought about by the advent of Christianity was always saturated with religiosity. Joan Breton Connelly, who is a professor of art history and classics at the New York University and who has experience in the field as an archaeologist, has devoted a full-length monograph to one aspect of religious experience that loomed large for the pagan Greeks, namely, the participation of women in the cult as priestesses, in her Portrait of a Priestess: Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece, published by the Princeton University Press (2007).
The reason supporting this practice turns out to be as simple and logical as could be: a male divinity ought to be served by male priests, while a female divinity, by female priests. Connelly covers all aspects of priestesses in the ancient Greek world in ten thorough chapters accompanied by a rich selection of glossy photographs of cultic objects depicting priestesses going about performing the duties of their office, in ceremonial processions, sacrifices, benedictions and the like. Thus, descriptions of their recruitment and typical duties, depending on degree of initiation. The well-known institution of the college of Vestal virgins in Rome, who took a thirty-year vow of celibacy, saddles us moderns with a somewhat misleading portrait of what priestesses would have been like across the rest of the Mediterranean world. Indeed girls as young as nine would be inducted into service at the temples but their virginity was temporary and once the young women had concluded their delimited term, returned to secular life and married, they could become eligible to resume office as priestesses in more senior positions appropriate to a matron or to an elderly widow. Another theme Connelly is concerned to draw out is that of the social significance of women’s priestly functions having to do with the education of the young in girls’ choruses, protection of the city’s fortunes by placating the goddess and winning her favor etc. Far from looking down on women’s integral role as priestesses in the religious culture of the polis, Greek society memorialized them by erecting monuments and statues (as we know from their inscriptions) and often accorded them civic recognition and honors, such as the right to be seated in the front row of the amphitheater.
Lastly, the subject possibly of greatest interest to the modern reader may be that of the oracles delivered by the priestess, not only at Delphi but at numerous sites across the Greek-speaking world. Connelly’s account of the oracle at Delphi [pp. 72-81] is somewhat revisionary – indicating that wild flights of the imagination on the part of old-time scholars must be unrealistic and that the sibyls themselves may have been less passive mediums of their oracles than previously supposed. The interested reader may wish to compare Connelly’s extensive treatment of the subject of priestesses in Greek paganism with pericopes in Elaine Fantham et al., Women in the Classical World [pp. 93-95] or Walter Burkert, Greek Religion [pp. 45-46, 95-98, 109-118].
If Connelly’s historical reconstructions are to have relevance to us in the twenty-first century, the most likely juncture would be in a continuation of the institution of prophecy, for it remains as true today as it ever was back then that decadent mankind has to be prompted to hearken to God’s revelation. Therefore we wish to reflect for a moment on the nature of frenzy. What, ultimately, drove the sibyls into their cryptic utterances? Only a simpleton could imagine that the immediate occasion, inhalation of intoxicating vapors, was all that went on in their minds. Rather, liminal consciousness freed from distraction by quotidian minutia perceives the heart of the matter with what is going on in the world. The prophet or prophetess will be one who having undergone an initiatory experience or ordeal has learnt to see the face of God and, inspired thereby, feels compelled to tell forth the mystery to his endarkened contemporaries.
Archetypal figures of the priestess include Cassandra, daughter of king Priam of Troy and the Pythia at the oracle of Apollo at Delphi. Nor was any prophetic status for women unique to Greek pagan religion. In the Old Testament, we know of Isaiah’s wife whom he calls the prophetess [Isaiah 8:3] or נְבִיאָה = nebiah, a feminine form of נָבִיא = nabi, used also of Miriam [Exodus 15:20] and Deborah [Judges 4:4]. Just because out of humility she prefers to leave public proclamations to her husband and thus remains herself silent in recorded scripture, we have no cause to suppose her irrelevant to Isaiah’s prophetic mission, as if she had been part of his life solely to provide material support by cooking and housekeeping. The medieval abbess Hildegard of Bingen in the twelfth century was subject since girlhood to mysterious and portentous visions, as she describes in her Scivias. What does she make of them? Read her Scivias to find out their content, but their effect was to impel her to go into the Rhineland and to preach against the clerical corruption then rife in the Latin Church – she was not content to whine and feel sorry for herself for not having been ordained to holy orders, as if she could have been, but confidently knew her eminent place as herald of the Holy Spirit and compelled the bishops to authorize her right thus to preach. Laity nowadays, especially would-be feminist women swept along more by the alien spirit of the age than by attachment to the perennial vocation of the Christian, tend to be confused as to sex roles in religion and, one could hope, might derive clarification from an improved awareness of the practice of the early church such as they could win from the astute, if provocative analysis by the German emeritus professor of New-Testament theology at the University of Heidelberg, Klaus Berger [Ehe und Himmelreich: Frau und Mann im Urchristentum, Herder (2019)]. In a nutshell, his thesis suggests that the practice of the early church recognized a dual complementarity between the respective roles of the two sexes, in that, in descent from the apostles, men could occupy formally organized religious functions in numerically fixed offices [Gremien], such as the presbyteriate and later the college of cardinals, whereas women played a more charismatic and prophetic role and were not limited to a fixed number of formal hierarchically ordered offices. Medieval Catholics, of course, would have been accustomed to and comfortable with women exercising leadership functions as ladies and queens, abbesses and above all as mystics. Only in the early modern period did women’s fortunes suffer eclipse in society at large, especially in northern Europe. After all, it was the magisterial Protestant Reformers who, by shuttering the monasteries, first promulgated the idea that henceforth a woman was to be confined to the career of housewife.
Hence, notwithstanding Connelly’s polemics in her final chapter, the vital role played by priestesses in ancient Greek religion persisted and was universalized after the coming of Christianity. For as the Roman Catholic catechism specifically states, baptism not only releases one from the guilt of original sin but also confers an indelible sacramental character or seal by which the baptized shares in the priesthood of Christ, in his prophetic and royal mission [§1268] – which applies to everyone and is to be distinguished from the ordained ministerial priesthood of holy orders proper. For a woman, then, this means that she acquires the baptismal seal as a priestess and prophetess. Perhaps an understanding of these things, so clear to the early Christians, became obscured during the early modern period. Can we denizens of the post-modern world have come around full circle, though? Could Greta Thunberg be the Cassandra of the twenty-first century? Nor is she alone, see the New York Times feature article on other young women at the recent Glasgow climate conference, from November 6, 2021.
Connelly’s careful and erudite scholarship shows up the limited conceptual space in which our cultural imagination moves in modern times – to this recensionist’s knowledge, there has never been a Disney movie starring a priestess as protagonist! Why? For a girl to grow up to become a priestess in action [agendo] must rest upon a sound foundation of heartfelt and tenacious piety, yet among all the virtues piety happens to be the one most furiously despised and contemned by post-modern feminists and secular liberal ideologues. In point of fact, Aquinas in the Summa theologiae ii-ii, q. 81, a. 6 contends that piety is the greatest virtue of all, preeminent even over the classical foursome of prudence, justice, courage and temperance! For as Aquinas states loc. cit., a. 3, ‘Now it belongs to religion to show reverence to one God under one aspect, namely, as the first principle of the creation and government of things’ – but unfortunately to show reverence towards God as the first principle of the government of things would necessarily entail a resolve to obey the commandments, and here is where the liberal must part company – who at all events could tolerate having to accept the teaching of the magisterium? Yet as John the evangelist declares in the prologue to his gospel:
The Word [Λόγος] was the real light that gives light to everyone; he was coming into the world. He was in the world that had come into being through him, and the world did not recognize him. He came into his own and his own people did not accept him. But to those who did accept him he gave the power to become children of God. (John 1:9-12a)
In every age, God responds to the exigencies of the moment by calling on his children to witness once again to his ways. The historian knows well the revitalization of religious culture which, long ago, was brought about by the contribution of a Benedict to monasticism in the early medieval Latin West or by Francis of Assisi and Dominic through the founding of the mendicant orders in the early thirteenth century. We have yet to see what God will do in the twenty-first century, but it would offer a great hope to our dismal world if women were to awake to the full potentialities inherent in their baptismal promise to become priestesses and prophetesses.
In this beautifully illustrated and well-researched book, the author provides a comprehensive cultural history of priestesses in the ancient Greek world for those who have an interest in this topic.
Contrary to past written histories that women in ancient Greece were considered second class citizens and could be neither seen nor heard, we learn that the reverse is true.
Either men or women could be priests, depending on which god they would serve. People could obtain multiple priesthoods. Priesthoods were often hereditary and were seen as an honorary office to obtain. These were positions of great influence and power.
This was a really thorough book and argued its points very well. I definitely feel like I learned a lot reading this, and it certainly sheds new light on the role of women in ancient Greece!
It's been a while since I read this one but I really loved it. A carefully researched scholarly work that is also a riveting read! I need to revisit it to give a more fulsome review.
Full of good information and luscious pictures of pots/stelae/statues/&c., but the modern academic writing style made me grit my teeth the whole way. Observe:
"A further inspiration or the title is my wish to underscore the narrative quality of the material presented. The fragments of sculpture, paintings, inscriptions, and texts gathered here preserve stories of lived experience. They are not just distant data onto which we can project the concerns and agendas of our own times, but are robust survivors of authentic ancient narratives to which we should, instead, listen."
Disappointingly dull, ponderous, and tedious. The book itself is beautiful visually, but the contents leave much to be desired. Dry, academic style of writing and surprisingly little fresh or interesting content given the length and literal heaviness of the book. It does provide ample evidence for the role and value of the priestess in Ancient Greece, information which likely could have been condensed quite nicely into a twenty page journal article.
A fantastic look at every aspect of priestess in ancient Greece and Rome. It made me realize that most of my beliefs about women in ancient Greece and Rome needed to change, and in fact because of religion women were much freer than once believed.