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Courtesans and Fishcakes: The Consuming Passions of Classical Athens
A most enjoyable book about enjoyment - Peter Stothard, The Times
James Davidson's concern is with ancient appetites: food, drink and sex in classical Athens. At one level, he provides a guided tour from bordello to Billingsgate; at another, an essay on the politics of consumption. Fish did loom large: it was a gourmet food, and therefore a social indicator. Literary critics found it extraordinary that the heroes of the Iliad lived on kebabs, though they were camped near the rich fishing grounds of the Dardanelles. This is a book of many pleasures, both in analysis and in anecdote. You can meet heroes of hedonism and martyrs of sensuality: Melanthios, who prayed for a neck like a heron's, so that he could linger long on the delicious mouthfuls; Philoxenos, who consumed a three-foot octopus (except for the head), and nearly died of dyspepsia; the anonymous alcoholic immortalised by Aristotle, who put eggs under his mat and sat on them and drank continuously until they hatched. Davidson presents a superior class of hedonism... His invigorating book paints the scene with polished scholarship and fine Hellenic gusto. - Peter Parsons, London Review of Books
Davidson blows away a whole heap of cobwebs, and at the same time shows up with merciless clarity the dissimulation and hypocrisy at the heart of some modern attitudes. We learn about where tarts took their clients, their tariffs and repertoire of sexual positions (the one called 'lion on the cheesegrater' is a puzzler); about the quaint games of kottabos (flicking the remains of one's wine at a target) and quail-tapping (you rapped a quail on the head and bet on whether it stood its ground or backed off); about the price of fresh eels and barracuda; about plonk and best vintage Chian wine. All students of antiquity will have to have this book. - Christopher Stace, Daily Telegraph
If little boys are still being made to learn dead languages, and expected to enjoy Everyday Life in Ancient Greece, I hope their Greek master reads James Davidson's fascinating and witty book, and tells them the best stories from it. This certainly ought to wake them up at the back of the class. - Humphrey Carpenter, Sunday Times
An excellent and learned exploration of a subject which for 50 years has crumbled to dust whenever touched. There are pleasures and authors who lie dormant for a century or more until a new kind of vividness, a super-freshness descends upon them. James Davidson has that skill. - Peter Levi, Spectator
James Davidson's concern is with ancient appetites: food, drink and sex in classical Athens. At one level, he provides a guided tour from bordello to Billingsgate; at another, an essay on the politics of consumption. Fish did loom large: it was a gourmet food, and therefore a social indicator. Literary critics found it extraordinary that the heroes of the Iliad lived on kebabs, though they were camped near the rich fishing grounds of the Dardanelles. This is a book of many pleasures, both in analysis and in anecdote. You can meet heroes of hedonism and martyrs of sensuality: Melanthios, who prayed for a neck like a heron's, so that he could linger long on the delicious mouthfuls; Philoxenos, who consumed a three-foot octopus (except for the head), and nearly died of dyspepsia; the anonymous alcoholic immortalised by Aristotle, who put eggs under his mat and sat on them and drank continuously until they hatched. Davidson presents a superior class of hedonism... His invigorating book paints the scene with polished scholarship and fine Hellenic gusto. - Peter Parsons, London Review of Books
Davidson blows away a whole heap of cobwebs, and at the same time shows up with merciless clarity the dissimulation and hypocrisy at the heart of some modern attitudes. We learn about where tarts took their clients, their tariffs and repertoire of sexual positions (the one called 'lion on the cheesegrater' is a puzzler); about the quaint games of kottabos (flicking the remains of one's wine at a target) and quail-tapping (you rapped a quail on the head and bet on whether it stood its ground or backed off); about the price of fresh eels and barracuda; about plonk and best vintage Chian wine. All students of antiquity will have to have this book. - Christopher Stace, Daily Telegraph
If little boys are still being made to learn dead languages, and expected to enjoy Everyday Life in Ancient Greece, I hope their Greek master reads James Davidson's fascinating and witty book, and tells them the best stories from it. This certainly ought to wake them up at the back of the class. - Humphrey Carpenter, Sunday Times
An excellent and learned exploration of a subject which for 50 years has crumbled to dust whenever touched. There are pleasures and authors who lie dormant for a century or more until a new kind of vividness, a super-freshness descends upon them. James Davidson has that skill. - Peter Levi, Spectator
372 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1997
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July 30, 2009
James Davidson’s 300 plus rather dense pages about the ancient Athenians can be boiled down to two related messages: 1) the ancient Athenians believed in self-imposed moderation, and 2) they rigorously monitored signs of private excess (gourmandising, whoring, gambling, squandering patrimony) because they felt that private excess would invariably lead to public excess (theft, bribery, demagoguery)—which in turn would threaten the safety and well-being of their young democracy.
Background: ancient Athens established the first true democracy (as far as we know) in the history of the world. And (except for women, non-citizens and slaves) it was a true democracy: every adult male citizen gathered several times a month in the Assembly to argue policy and pass laws. Anyone could bring up any issue; whoever wanted to could have his say; issues were decided and laws passed by simple majority vote. The new laws were then literally chiseled in stone, and the stone tablets placed prominently in public. Between sessions the city-state’s business was handled by the Council of 500, randomly selected annually from among the Assembly. The Athenians also had courts of law: juries were selected by lottery from the roster of male citizens over age 30.
Athens had no police force. In many ways its government was minimalist: no bureaucracy, no detailed record-keeping, few petty rules and regulations. The Athenians depended on the self-control of individuals—“Nothing too much” (meden agan). “In the ancient imagination the greatest threat to prosperity was not war so much as profligacy.” So the citizens jealously watched each other for signs of loss of self-control—gluttony, gambling, horse-breeding, boozing, extravagant dinner-parties, fornication, adultery. The reasoning was that those who indulged in such private excesses would squander their resources and then need to engage in public excesses to maintain their debauched lifestyles. What public excesses? Selling their votes, bribing, advocating attacks on Athen’s neighbors to acquire booty, conspiring to replace the democracy with an oligarchy or a tyrant. To sum up: people who indulged in private excesses could not be trusted honestly to acquit their public responsibilities as Athenian citizens.
It is clear that in his analysis Davidson is arguing against other historians—notably “French Mandarin” Michel Foucault, who insisted that ancient Greece (and all other societies) were all about power: and that in Athens there were two classes of people—“the penetrators” (dominant male citizens) and “the penetrated” (females, non-citizens, slaves). Davidson makes it clear that this is a simplistic and even absurd view that betrays a lack of in-depth understanding of Athenian history—in other words, either Foucault failed to do his homework or he was blinded by his ideological obsession with power. Or both.
So what has all this to do with courtesans and fishcakes?
*Courtesans—For along time, historians considered the hetaerae (courtesans) a big deal, but apparently the younger generation of historians, influenced by Foucault and the feminists, have pooh-poohed the role of the hetaerae—reduced them to lowly victims (“the penetrated”). Davidson seeks to revive the hetaerae as significant players in ancient Athens. Theirs was, in fact, a very complicated role in a society in which adultery was punishable by death (if a male citizen caught someone in the act with his wife, mother, sister, or daughter, it was legal for him to kill the offender on the spot). With adultery so hazardous to the health, what was a male body to do? Well, there were always the common street whores, who hung out by the city gates and charged fixed rates for different positions. But these wenches were far too uncouth for the private dinner parties (symposia) so popular with the Athenians; the symposia required women who not only looked good but knew how to comport themselves. These were the hetaerae. Unlike the streetwalkers they were not paid for sex, but they did accept “gifts” from their gentleman friends. Some became wealthy and famous. Some were widely renowned for their beauty, others for their wit, still others for their skill at playing musical instruments such as the flute; all were expert at pleasing men. In the context of Davidson’s book the hetaerae are relevant because they could and did lure men into immoderate behavior. Some men would throw away their patrimonies in pursuit of a hetaera. Intense devotion to such women betrayed a want of self-control. It was all right to consort with them in the convivial atmosphere of the symposia; it was the excess that was suspect—obsession, losing one’s head, throwing away money.
*Fishcakes—Another sign of excess was over-eating—especially fish. The Athenians loved fish (their favorite?—eel). Immoderate consumption of fish raised the red flag because gluttony indicated lack of control and lack of control signified potential danger to the democracy. So Athenians eyeballed each other at the market, and anyone who bought a good deal more than he seemed to need—or started avidly scarfing hot fish right at the stall—was immediately suspect. The same was true of wine. The Greeks mixed their wine with water, and during symposia the amounts and the process were ritualized to ensure moderation (for example, the wine-water ratio was fixed, and the wine was sipped from very shallow cups). Those who drank wine unwatered and/or from deep cups were considered out-of-control—drinking to get drunk rather than to be sociable. Another warning sign.
Some other interesting observations/anecdotes:
*Origin of Democracy—Davidson thinks democracy might derive from the Greek tradition of religious sacrifice. How so? When the Greeks sacrificed an animal to one of their gods (say, Athena), they afterward divided the portions of meat equally among the citizens, without regard to quality of cut. If you were the wealthiest Athenian, you had just as much chance of receiving a cut full of gristle and bone as a choice loinsteak. Did this culinary equality lead to political equality? Perhaps. According to Davidson, Cleisthenes, the father of Athenian democracy, was known not as a political revolutionary but as a “fair distributor.” All this bears indirectly on “fishcakes”: because most animal meat was devoted to sacrifice and therefore equally distributed, it could not serve as a basis for gluttony—but seafood could, because fish were not used for sacrifice and therefore you could buy whatever types and quantity you could afford—or ill-afford.
*Power of Orators—Since in a democracy persuasion is key, skillful orators became very powerful—the politicians of the times. Hence, the perpetual Athenian fear of honey-tongued demagogues, who could manipulate the citizens into doing things against their own interests.
*Inconspicuous Consumption—Who put up the bucks to support the Athenian democracy? The rich. A very rich man was expected not only to subsidize festivals and erect public buildings at his own expense, but also to build, outfit and support a fighting ship (trireme) for the Athenian navy. For this reason, the rich tended toward inconspicuous consumption—and to hide their money (there were scant public records of wealth). There was even a law that if Rich Man A had been tagged to provide a trireme, he could bump the obligation to Rich Man B if he could prove that B was richer than he was.
*Hetaera Anecdote—Phryne, a hetaera famous for her beauty, was on trial for worshipping foreign gods; if found guilty, she could be executed. She was defended by Hyperides, one of the day’s great orators. He presented his arguments forcefully and well, leading up to the climactic moment—tearing off Phryne’s robe, he dramatically revealed to the male jurors her truly stunning body. She was acquitted.
Courtesans and Fishcakes makes for tough reading, even for someone with prior knowledge of ancient Greece. Still, for the aficionado the book contains some interesting hypotheses and a number of choice historical tidbits.
Background: ancient Athens established the first true democracy (as far as we know) in the history of the world. And (except for women, non-citizens and slaves) it was a true democracy: every adult male citizen gathered several times a month in the Assembly to argue policy and pass laws. Anyone could bring up any issue; whoever wanted to could have his say; issues were decided and laws passed by simple majority vote. The new laws were then literally chiseled in stone, and the stone tablets placed prominently in public. Between sessions the city-state’s business was handled by the Council of 500, randomly selected annually from among the Assembly. The Athenians also had courts of law: juries were selected by lottery from the roster of male citizens over age 30.
Athens had no police force. In many ways its government was minimalist: no bureaucracy, no detailed record-keeping, few petty rules and regulations. The Athenians depended on the self-control of individuals—“Nothing too much” (meden agan). “In the ancient imagination the greatest threat to prosperity was not war so much as profligacy.” So the citizens jealously watched each other for signs of loss of self-control—gluttony, gambling, horse-breeding, boozing, extravagant dinner-parties, fornication, adultery. The reasoning was that those who indulged in such private excesses would squander their resources and then need to engage in public excesses to maintain their debauched lifestyles. What public excesses? Selling their votes, bribing, advocating attacks on Athen’s neighbors to acquire booty, conspiring to replace the democracy with an oligarchy or a tyrant. To sum up: people who indulged in private excesses could not be trusted honestly to acquit their public responsibilities as Athenian citizens.
It is clear that in his analysis Davidson is arguing against other historians—notably “French Mandarin” Michel Foucault, who insisted that ancient Greece (and all other societies) were all about power: and that in Athens there were two classes of people—“the penetrators” (dominant male citizens) and “the penetrated” (females, non-citizens, slaves). Davidson makes it clear that this is a simplistic and even absurd view that betrays a lack of in-depth understanding of Athenian history—in other words, either Foucault failed to do his homework or he was blinded by his ideological obsession with power. Or both.
So what has all this to do with courtesans and fishcakes?
*Courtesans—For along time, historians considered the hetaerae (courtesans) a big deal, but apparently the younger generation of historians, influenced by Foucault and the feminists, have pooh-poohed the role of the hetaerae—reduced them to lowly victims (“the penetrated”). Davidson seeks to revive the hetaerae as significant players in ancient Athens. Theirs was, in fact, a very complicated role in a society in which adultery was punishable by death (if a male citizen caught someone in the act with his wife, mother, sister, or daughter, it was legal for him to kill the offender on the spot). With adultery so hazardous to the health, what was a male body to do? Well, there were always the common street whores, who hung out by the city gates and charged fixed rates for different positions. But these wenches were far too uncouth for the private dinner parties (symposia) so popular with the Athenians; the symposia required women who not only looked good but knew how to comport themselves. These were the hetaerae. Unlike the streetwalkers they were not paid for sex, but they did accept “gifts” from their gentleman friends. Some became wealthy and famous. Some were widely renowned for their beauty, others for their wit, still others for their skill at playing musical instruments such as the flute; all were expert at pleasing men. In the context of Davidson’s book the hetaerae are relevant because they could and did lure men into immoderate behavior. Some men would throw away their patrimonies in pursuit of a hetaera. Intense devotion to such women betrayed a want of self-control. It was all right to consort with them in the convivial atmosphere of the symposia; it was the excess that was suspect—obsession, losing one’s head, throwing away money.
*Fishcakes—Another sign of excess was over-eating—especially fish. The Athenians loved fish (their favorite?—eel). Immoderate consumption of fish raised the red flag because gluttony indicated lack of control and lack of control signified potential danger to the democracy. So Athenians eyeballed each other at the market, and anyone who bought a good deal more than he seemed to need—or started avidly scarfing hot fish right at the stall—was immediately suspect. The same was true of wine. The Greeks mixed their wine with water, and during symposia the amounts and the process were ritualized to ensure moderation (for example, the wine-water ratio was fixed, and the wine was sipped from very shallow cups). Those who drank wine unwatered and/or from deep cups were considered out-of-control—drinking to get drunk rather than to be sociable. Another warning sign.
Some other interesting observations/anecdotes:
*Origin of Democracy—Davidson thinks democracy might derive from the Greek tradition of religious sacrifice. How so? When the Greeks sacrificed an animal to one of their gods (say, Athena), they afterward divided the portions of meat equally among the citizens, without regard to quality of cut. If you were the wealthiest Athenian, you had just as much chance of receiving a cut full of gristle and bone as a choice loinsteak. Did this culinary equality lead to political equality? Perhaps. According to Davidson, Cleisthenes, the father of Athenian democracy, was known not as a political revolutionary but as a “fair distributor.” All this bears indirectly on “fishcakes”: because most animal meat was devoted to sacrifice and therefore equally distributed, it could not serve as a basis for gluttony—but seafood could, because fish were not used for sacrifice and therefore you could buy whatever types and quantity you could afford—or ill-afford.
*Power of Orators—Since in a democracy persuasion is key, skillful orators became very powerful—the politicians of the times. Hence, the perpetual Athenian fear of honey-tongued demagogues, who could manipulate the citizens into doing things against their own interests.
*Inconspicuous Consumption—Who put up the bucks to support the Athenian democracy? The rich. A very rich man was expected not only to subsidize festivals and erect public buildings at his own expense, but also to build, outfit and support a fighting ship (trireme) for the Athenian navy. For this reason, the rich tended toward inconspicuous consumption—and to hide their money (there were scant public records of wealth). There was even a law that if Rich Man A had been tagged to provide a trireme, he could bump the obligation to Rich Man B if he could prove that B was richer than he was.
*Hetaera Anecdote—Phryne, a hetaera famous for her beauty, was on trial for worshipping foreign gods; if found guilty, she could be executed. She was defended by Hyperides, one of the day’s great orators. He presented his arguments forcefully and well, leading up to the climactic moment—tearing off Phryne’s robe, he dramatically revealed to the male jurors her truly stunning body. She was acquitted.
Courtesans and Fishcakes makes for tough reading, even for someone with prior knowledge of ancient Greece. Still, for the aficionado the book contains some interesting hypotheses and a number of choice historical tidbits.
December 31, 2024
Ever wonder about the hierarchy of women in ancient Athens and what laws they had to abide by? What about what was considered adultery and what was acceptable? What about how absolutely obsessed with fish the ancient Athenians were and how it played out in their daily lives? This book explains it all. Quite educational.
April 24, 2010
The best way to explain what this book is like to read, is this: it's like you are attending a symposium with lots of different history lectures to attend, and you decide to attend the one called "Drinking, Lust and Gluttony in Classical Athens" because you think, "hey, this has to be entertaining, it's about sex and booze", so you go, and the lecture is just endless and incredibly hard to follow, and you start to doze off, but you keep waking up whenever the speaker starts talking about sex, then you realize that he is just revisiting some point that he already made twenty minutes ago, and you fall asleep again. Then you wake up at the end and yawningly applaud.
There has to be a way to arrange this book in a more easily readable way. The primary point that Davidson seems to be dancing around the entire time is that Athenians were mainly concerned with losing control of one's appetites, and this was what they found threatening. So, seeing prostitutes or even being a prostitute wasn't so bad as long as one could control one's spending on such hedonistic pleasures. Same thing with drinking: totally fine as long as one wasn't blowing huge amounts of money.
But Davidson never states anything clearly here, and he comes back to certain events over and over again, without adding anything new. I finished this book through sheer force of will. If you cannot get enough of classical Athens, I suppose you might like it, otherwise, stay away.
Great historical tidbit though: "This is probably where the famous punishment of a radish up the arse came into play, the penalty of 'aporhaphanidosis', although as Kenneth Dover points out, in all probability this 'radish' was not simply the very small root we call radish but a generic name covering some much larger species'.
So yes, the Greeks not only punished people by stuffing radishes up their rear ends, but they had a special name for it, and it was a really big radish.
There has to be a way to arrange this book in a more easily readable way. The primary point that Davidson seems to be dancing around the entire time is that Athenians were mainly concerned with losing control of one's appetites, and this was what they found threatening. So, seeing prostitutes or even being a prostitute wasn't so bad as long as one could control one's spending on such hedonistic pleasures. Same thing with drinking: totally fine as long as one wasn't blowing huge amounts of money.
But Davidson never states anything clearly here, and he comes back to certain events over and over again, without adding anything new. I finished this book through sheer force of will. If you cannot get enough of classical Athens, I suppose you might like it, otherwise, stay away.
Great historical tidbit though: "This is probably where the famous punishment of a radish up the arse came into play, the penalty of 'aporhaphanidosis', although as Kenneth Dover points out, in all probability this 'radish' was not simply the very small root we call radish but a generic name covering some much larger species'.
So yes, the Greeks not only punished people by stuffing radishes up their rear ends, but they had a special name for it, and it was a really big radish.
August 5, 2012
A fine scholarly work that takes its subject--sex and food--quite seriously, while digging down at it in a lively manner. (I learned all about quail-tapping, which I now believe is the most hilarious gambling method ever devised.) And of course it's about politics, since it's about Athens. In fact, that's a central point of the author's argument; trying to take court cases and plays and histories and dialogues that talk about food and sex, and treating them as if they're ONLY about food and sex, means misinterpreting and missing out on an awful lot that has to do with the politics of the day.
There are a lot of precise, polite, brilliant jabs at Foucault, which I admit pleases me greatly. The dissection and rejection of the phallocentric method of reading Athenian culture isn't the main point of this book, but it's done with skill and verve. The text as a whole ranges from the hilarious to the nigh-pedantic, depending on what the immediate argument is. (At times I found myself wishing there were a little more clarity for, let's say, those of us who don't know French, or would like a little more info on the Juvenalian satire being referred to.) Those with no interest in Ancient Greece to start with are unlikely to find it rewarding as a whole, but I'd strongly recommend it to anyone who's already interested in the topic. It's almost never dry, and there's a lot of great stuff in here.
There are a lot of precise, polite, brilliant jabs at Foucault, which I admit pleases me greatly. The dissection and rejection of the phallocentric method of reading Athenian culture isn't the main point of this book, but it's done with skill and verve. The text as a whole ranges from the hilarious to the nigh-pedantic, depending on what the immediate argument is. (At times I found myself wishing there were a little more clarity for, let's say, those of us who don't know French, or would like a little more info on the Juvenalian satire being referred to.) Those with no interest in Ancient Greece to start with are unlikely to find it rewarding as a whole, but I'd strongly recommend it to anyone who's already interested in the topic. It's almost never dry, and there's a lot of great stuff in here.
June 23, 2017
A really interesting slice of micro-historical text that explores virtue and vice as consumption in the classical Hellenic world. I went into this book thinking it would be about recipes and gossip but instead it's more of a study of what luxury actually MEANT to the ancient Greeks. How they viewed indulgence, moderation, and abstention (Abstention was often viewed as worse than indulgence in the average man).
This book is dense but fun and once things really get going, it's easy to fly through it provided you have no distractions. It definitely makes me want to read more of Davidson's work and I'd definitely recommend this to anyone who is interested in the more obscure aspects of life classical Athens.
This book is dense but fun and once things really get going, it's easy to fly through it provided you have no distractions. It definitely makes me want to read more of Davidson's work and I'd definitely recommend this to anyone who is interested in the more obscure aspects of life classical Athens.
June 12, 2019
I loved this book. I felt the final chapter wasn't quite as good as the rest, and a couple times in the conclusion I wanted to do a Wikipedia-style "citation needed" when Davidson made a statement about "our times" versus Classical Greece. (This one was a particular head-scratcher: "In contrast to our simple sexuality and our straightforward recognition of the salience* of sex, their erotic world seems unnecessarily complicated and terribly difficult to pin down." I think he must mean because the ancient Greeks had so many classes of prostitute?)
At first I really wasn't sure about the organization of the book--from tuna to tyranny!--especially given my lack of basic background on Athenian society, but by about two-thirds of the way through I thought it was really ingenious. It is very difficult to organize a survey like this, and I found Davidson's solution both brilliant and persuasive. He presents a picture of a people filled with anxiety that they aren't as good or worthy as their forebears--particularly ironic, since by the European Renaissance, Westerners were looking to Classical Greece as a pinnacle in human social achievement. He also puts in context the way their society and view of life differed from the later Christianized Europe, even as the reader sees striking similarities between their society and ours (particularly in the realm of politics).
He achieves some of his best writing, though, when he is confronting Queer Theory. I find (and I think Davidson would agree) Queer Theory to have been extraordinarily valuable in sociological discourse, but it has one fatal flaw--ultimately Queer Theorists are interested in finding the Grand Unified Theory of Homophobia, and since homophobia is irrational, there is no one rationale behind it, therefore this search is futile (and forcing evidence to fit it does a disservice to the unique aspects of the societies studied). And yes, the ancient Greeks present an example of society that was deeply misogynistic, but not particularly homophobic, or at least not in the same way ours is (or even ancient Rome was). I found Davidson very convincing, despite having familiarity with the idea of Kyriarchy already, and its ultimately classical origins, and generally agreeing with it as a way of describing our own society. Some of this, of course, is an artifact not of Classical Greek culture itself, but of later European thinkers looking back at Greece and interpreting what they found there to fit their own values--with different interpreters coming up with very different interpretations. Davidson's key chapter on this subject ("Politics and Politicians") therefore felt like a stronger conclusion than the final chapter (although the ideas in it were fascinating, and it's a shame they weren't developed quite as fully or as well as what went before). This final line: "It seems very obvious and it is amazing that so many have overlooked it, but the crucial point about prostitutes is not what they get up to in bed, for ultimately that is mere speculation; it is that they are for sale." is I think the British classicist equivalent of a mic drop.
I knew virtually nothing about classical Athens before reading this book and I found myself needing/wanting to know more about the political and social systems. I would like to find a basic primer on classical Greek culture that would explain more about how slavery worked**, marriage, the economy, a basic outline and timeline of the Persian, Peloponnesian, and Macedonian wars, etc. I also needed a map (with the ancient names). Those were beyond the scope of this book. However, this book was missing some key information. I could have used a single sentence explaining the denominations of the money, especially since values seemed to change (perhaps reflecting a real change that occurred over time?). I really needed a better explanation of what sykophants and parasites did and what, if any, difference there was between them. And I was left desperately involved in the saga of Timarchus the (maybe-not-actually a) common prostitute, and unsatisfied by where we left him. Did he get off? (Er, pun not intended.)
Davidson's language was mostly accessible, minus a few typical academic tics ("problematize" was the word of the day), and the annoying habit of randomly leaving a quote in French or German without rephrasing. He did it more toward the end, so much so I was almost grateful he hadn't left the Greek quotes in Greek, which, as you probably can guess, is all Greek to me. Ha.
Over all, though, it was sometimes amusing, very informative, and exactly the kind of resource that writers of fantasy and historical fiction alike eat like catnip. I expect to refer to it often in the future.
*Jumping?
**I had imagined I suppose that the slavery of the ancient world was somehow less bad than the systematic enslavement of Africans in the New World in more recent history, but Davidson's brief description of the lifelong obligations to their "masters" of even freed people, and the legal torture of enslaved people, as well as the usual abuses common to our slavery and theirs, disabused me. Instead I was left thinking the Roman stoic Seneca the Younger's instruction to Lucilius that he make friends with his slaves (my previous exposure really to classical slavery) even more extraordinary and naive than I had thought when I first read it!
At first I really wasn't sure about the organization of the book--from tuna to tyranny!--especially given my lack of basic background on Athenian society, but by about two-thirds of the way through I thought it was really ingenious. It is very difficult to organize a survey like this, and I found Davidson's solution both brilliant and persuasive. He presents a picture of a people filled with anxiety that they aren't as good or worthy as their forebears--particularly ironic, since by the European Renaissance, Westerners were looking to Classical Greece as a pinnacle in human social achievement. He also puts in context the way their society and view of life differed from the later Christianized Europe, even as the reader sees striking similarities between their society and ours (particularly in the realm of politics).
He achieves some of his best writing, though, when he is confronting Queer Theory. I find (and I think Davidson would agree) Queer Theory to have been extraordinarily valuable in sociological discourse, but it has one fatal flaw--ultimately Queer Theorists are interested in finding the Grand Unified Theory of Homophobia, and since homophobia is irrational, there is no one rationale behind it, therefore this search is futile (and forcing evidence to fit it does a disservice to the unique aspects of the societies studied). And yes, the ancient Greeks present an example of society that was deeply misogynistic, but not particularly homophobic, or at least not in the same way ours is (or even ancient Rome was). I found Davidson very convincing, despite having familiarity with the idea of Kyriarchy already, and its ultimately classical origins, and generally agreeing with it as a way of describing our own society. Some of this, of course, is an artifact not of Classical Greek culture itself, but of later European thinkers looking back at Greece and interpreting what they found there to fit their own values--with different interpreters coming up with very different interpretations. Davidson's key chapter on this subject ("Politics and Politicians") therefore felt like a stronger conclusion than the final chapter (although the ideas in it were fascinating, and it's a shame they weren't developed quite as fully or as well as what went before). This final line: "It seems very obvious and it is amazing that so many have overlooked it, but the crucial point about prostitutes is not what they get up to in bed, for ultimately that is mere speculation; it is that they are for sale." is I think the British classicist equivalent of a mic drop.
I knew virtually nothing about classical Athens before reading this book and I found myself needing/wanting to know more about the political and social systems. I would like to find a basic primer on classical Greek culture that would explain more about how slavery worked**, marriage, the economy, a basic outline and timeline of the Persian, Peloponnesian, and Macedonian wars, etc. I also needed a map (with the ancient names). Those were beyond the scope of this book. However, this book was missing some key information. I could have used a single sentence explaining the denominations of the money, especially since values seemed to change (perhaps reflecting a real change that occurred over time?). I really needed a better explanation of what sykophants and parasites did and what, if any, difference there was between them. And I was left desperately involved in the saga of Timarchus the (maybe-not-actually a) common prostitute, and unsatisfied by where we left him. Did he get off? (Er, pun not intended.)
Davidson's language was mostly accessible, minus a few typical academic tics ("problematize" was the word of the day), and the annoying habit of randomly leaving a quote in French or German without rephrasing. He did it more toward the end, so much so I was almost grateful he hadn't left the Greek quotes in Greek, which, as you probably can guess, is all Greek to me. Ha.
Over all, though, it was sometimes amusing, very informative, and exactly the kind of resource that writers of fantasy and historical fiction alike eat like catnip. I expect to refer to it often in the future.
*Jumping?
**I had imagined I suppose that the slavery of the ancient world was somehow less bad than the systematic enslavement of Africans in the New World in more recent history, but Davidson's brief description of the lifelong obligations to their "masters" of even freed people, and the legal torture of enslaved people, as well as the usual abuses common to our slavery and theirs, disabused me. Instead I was left thinking the Roman stoic Seneca the Younger's instruction to Lucilius that he make friends with his slaves (my previous exposure really to classical slavery) even more extraordinary and naive than I had thought when I first read it!
December 6, 2020
Zowel toegankelijk voor het algemene publiek als voor academici. Zalig om te lezen!
November 24, 2025
I found this a fairly choresome read, which was a bit of a disappointment when you consider that sex, food, and ancient Greece are pretty much my three favorite things. The writing, when Davidson has the discipline to eschew the cute, is strong and the argument (that the Greeks, lacking the clear cardinal directions of the proscriptive Judeo-Christian moral compass, were extremely anxious about moderation and self-control - nothing radically new) for the most part solid, but the book feels bloated. Davidson will frequently back up a point with six to eight evidentiary quotes, which ends up feeling more insecure than thorough.
I will give him props for having the balls to assert, uniquely, I think, in my reading experience, that Foucault is wrong (in this instance about the social significance in classical Attica of taking the passive role in sodomy). I was most interested in Davidson's discussion of the Athenian obsession with eating fish, the synecdoche for luxurious living in Attic culture. Since the Athenians were a legendary maritime culture, I would have thought that fish would have been a staple, but, apparently, the Mediterranean is notoriously fish-poor, at least with respect to delectable varieties.
C and F could really have used an editor with a heavier hand. It did make me drag out my Greek books, though.
I will give him props for having the balls to assert, uniquely, I think, in my reading experience, that Foucault is wrong (in this instance about the social significance in classical Attica of taking the passive role in sodomy). I was most interested in Davidson's discussion of the Athenian obsession with eating fish, the synecdoche for luxurious living in Attic culture. Since the Athenians were a legendary maritime culture, I would have thought that fish would have been a staple, but, apparently, the Mediterranean is notoriously fish-poor, at least with respect to delectable varieties.
C and F could really have used an editor with a heavier hand. It did make me drag out my Greek books, though.
May 24, 2021
I read a review on Goodreads that called this book dull and densely written. Doubtless this person took the book's base subject matter of seafood and prostitutes at face value, expecting a cheeky popular history for the casual reader. That is not at all what this is.
I'm so glad I didn't let myself be put off of it by that review, choosing to trust that my pre-existing knowledge of ancient Athenian customs, culture, and developmental history would carry me through. This book was incredible, a truly breathtaking and thought-provoking work of scholarship on the Athenian psyche as relates to pleasure, indulgence, and its broader social impacts. Through examining the underlying anxiety constantly simmering below the surface of Athens' otherwise unapologetically pleasure-seeking society, Davidson draws an unwavering line from the obsession with eating fish all the way to the collapse of democracy—the inevitable outcome, in the eyes of the ancients, when men are unwilling or unable to temper their appetites for food, wine, women, boys, and power. His illustration of this point through analysis of Aeschines's famous speech Against Timarchus was particularly compelling, as was his discussion on common prostitutes vs. courtesans and the latter’s commodification of sex within the guise of the gift economy. A truly excellent read!
I'm so glad I didn't let myself be put off of it by that review, choosing to trust that my pre-existing knowledge of ancient Athenian customs, culture, and developmental history would carry me through. This book was incredible, a truly breathtaking and thought-provoking work of scholarship on the Athenian psyche as relates to pleasure, indulgence, and its broader social impacts. Through examining the underlying anxiety constantly simmering below the surface of Athens' otherwise unapologetically pleasure-seeking society, Davidson draws an unwavering line from the obsession with eating fish all the way to the collapse of democracy—the inevitable outcome, in the eyes of the ancients, when men are unwilling or unable to temper their appetites for food, wine, women, boys, and power. His illustration of this point through analysis of Aeschines's famous speech Against Timarchus was particularly compelling, as was his discussion on common prostitutes vs. courtesans and the latter’s commodification of sex within the guise of the gift economy. A truly excellent read!
January 30, 2008
Wow, this kid knows from Greek, I tell ya. Not a read for someone just beginning to explore the ancient Greek civilization, this is a book for someone well versed in the culture because the author writes to that audience. But if you have a couple of books or continuing ed course down already, give it a shot. Just be warned that he likes to write in omegas and taus and stuff. If you can get through the first chapter on Greek attitudes towards food, especially bread, and gluttony without tossing this out a window, you are in for a real treat. The book brings a strange, foreign people to life. And somehow gives me hope for democracy.
July 3, 2025
Decadent! Delicious! Davidson writes about pleasure and it permeates his prose, makes it quick-witted and exciting, earnest in its honesty and acknowledgement of nuance. His Classical Athens stands in sharp contrast to—although not necessarily in opposition with—that of Paul Cartledge, where class, economies, desires, sex-workers, even fish exist on a spectrum we can’t totally make out from our two-thousand-years-removed standpoint. He unspools stories, little Greek oddities, lines from Aristophanes’ comedies and orator’s pettiest grievances into a network of anxiety about desire: a Greece where pleasure is not something to forfeit or triumph over but to sample delicately lest the whole house come tumbling down. The presence of pleasure is political; the expression of it is political; its sources, publicity, power all have political consequences in the Athenian arena. I’m not sure if fish were really the source of Athenian democracy—that’s a historian’s pet project peeking through—but the attitudes around fish (and hetaeras and gift giving and orators and wine) go a long way towards explaining a strange country like classical Greece.
The concluding paragraph, which I think is a gorgeous piece of work:
Despite or because of its politicization, the Greek approach to pleasure was vigorously rationalistic and humane, talking appetites down, engaging with the present world and its urges without waiting for the next, confident enough to insist on personal responsibility in managing appetites, never so frightened of pleasures as to flee them in panic. While Buddha is commemorate as a skeletal figure meditating under a Bo tree and Jesus is monumentalized in triumph over the flesh on a cross, Socrates is best remembered in conversation at a lavish symposium, fretting that another guest is being greedy with the opson, or arguing gently in favor of the small cups.
The concluding paragraph, which I think is a gorgeous piece of work:
Despite or because of its politicization, the Greek approach to pleasure was vigorously rationalistic and humane, talking appetites down, engaging with the present world and its urges without waiting for the next, confident enough to insist on personal responsibility in managing appetites, never so frightened of pleasures as to flee them in panic. While Buddha is commemorate as a skeletal figure meditating under a Bo tree and Jesus is monumentalized in triumph over the flesh on a cross, Socrates is best remembered in conversation at a lavish symposium, fretting that another guest is being greedy with the opson, or arguing gently in favor of the small cups.
November 8, 2024
SOMETHING FISHY ... IN THE STATE OF ATHENS
This wasn't the book I thought it was going to be. It's a scholarly treatise (complete with extensive footnotes) about how "fish" --literally and figuratively-- anecdotal, metaphorical, double-entendre, et al -- infiltrated every aspect of the society of ancient Athens. So much referencing of fish got to be a tad tiring. Some of the reference thereto, especially some pulled from the texts of Greek comedies, brought this reader to occasional bouts of yawn-boredom. If I'd known what I know now about this book, at the time I bought it, I likely wouldn't have bothered with the purchase.
This wasn't the book I thought it was going to be. It's a scholarly treatise (complete with extensive footnotes) about how "fish" --literally and figuratively-- anecdotal, metaphorical, double-entendre, et al -- infiltrated every aspect of the society of ancient Athens. So much referencing of fish got to be a tad tiring. Some of the reference thereto, especially some pulled from the texts of Greek comedies, brought this reader to occasional bouts of yawn-boredom. If I'd known what I know now about this book, at the time I bought it, I likely wouldn't have bothered with the purchase.
July 18, 2014
I never actually finished reading this book, as I got bored with the last quarter and it was due back at the library, but what I enjoyed what I got to read about the world of food, drink, and sex in Ancient Athens, especially since I've just finished my summer digging at one of the ancient Athenian sites mentioned in the book. I did lose interest halfway through, though, so I'd only recommend it to friends of mine who are seriously interested in the classical world. I also have to give props for the catchy title, even if the book wasn't as lively as I hoped it would be.
September 4, 2018
An intriguing title for a scholarly anaylsis of classical Athenian culture. Using a variety of pamphlets, comic satires, forensic speeches and a number of Greek authors of the time, Davidson provides an alternative view of ancient Athenian culture based upon his linguistic, historical and literary analysis of these various sources.
It is well written and organized, but, unless one is interested in this area, it is not a great read.
It is well written and organized, but, unless one is interested in this area, it is not a great read.
April 25, 2010
One of my favourite non-fiction books ever! Utterly fascinating, at times hilarious, always entertaining, this book is not only perfect for the Classics lover, but for anyone who enjoys a good a meal. :)
January 21, 2013
I'm not convinced about a few of his conclusions. the eurymedon vase seems to be a real spanner in the works for his reading of attic attitudes to sexuality. but otherwise, interesting, intelligent, etc etc
November 11, 2015
I was primed to not like this because of some reviews I read that mistakenly (?) seized upon Davidsons Foucaultian leanings - which I am happy to say were wrong. Chatty, seemed longer than it was, lots of sex and fish.
December 11, 2019
I so wanted this book to be fun, but alas, Davidson's lugubrious academic writing weighed it down. Completely misrepresented by the sexy title and cover design, which were clearly meant to attract a popular audience, as was the fact that the Greek was all transliterated.
December 3, 2014
I found this rather hardgoing and did not finish it. It was interesting, about the life of classical Greece, how one's diet, and way of life could lead to political attacks.
April 26, 2013
I feel Davidson got rather repetitive in the chapters about women. I ended up thinking I'd read much of the content several times over.
November 28, 2015
A doctoral dissertation expanded to tenure-bait length.
June 10, 2016
Good look into some odd aspects of life in ancient Greece, but fairly slow-moving.
September 12, 2024
7/10 hm my attention span couldn’t handle this but it was defo interesting
March 17, 2023
This closely-observed account of Athenian attitudes to pleasure is both an entertaining read and a refutation of the Foucauldian focus on the power dynamics of penetrator/penetratee as the heart of Greek ethics. Davidson enumerates the pleasures of the table and the couch in describing Athenian anxiety over the ties between tyranny and loss of self-control: the man who is slave to his bodily passions will readily enslave others to gratify them. Slices of hot tuna and hetaerae are harbingers of the ruination of the state when they overrun the channels of appropriate consumption.
Davidson notes that the Greeks had a healthy appreciation for the inherent pleasures of good things: desire is normal because the gratification of the body is natural, and it's foolish to pretend otherwise. He contrasts that with our modern view of addiction as a disease or sinful failing of the flesh. The Greeks understood that a river of desire flows through us, and that the ethical aim is to regulate its flow rather than stanch it. The difference between a just man and a degenerate is one of quantity. A good guy keeps it in the symposium, while the dangerous libertine is a cistern of needs (the lovely Greeks referred to him as wide-assed -- you can't fill him up no matter how you indulge him).
In the course of this, you get fascinating dissections of the classes of bodies for sale, from the openly transactional street prostitute to the ambiguous companionship of a hetaera, which depends on the possibility of failed reciprocity to build its erotic charge. The uncertainty of receiving the courtesan's favors in exchange for your gifts takes it out of the money economy and into the realm of the interpersonal bonds, which also forms the backbone of the democratic system. For the Athenians, bodily pleasures are intensely political. The invective of Aeschines against Timarchus is Davidson's primary source for teasing apart these relationships, although he discusses plenty of others.
My only real complaint is that Davidson could have achieved his aims faster. The book circles back to the same points repeatedly. While most of it is fun to read, it does drag a bit near the end. The overt political analysis was already baked into the preceding specific examples, so I'm not sure it needed the concluding chapters to make it exhaustively explicit. This is a minor complaint about a text that I found entertaining and illuminating. Highly recommended.
Davidson notes that the Greeks had a healthy appreciation for the inherent pleasures of good things: desire is normal because the gratification of the body is natural, and it's foolish to pretend otherwise. He contrasts that with our modern view of addiction as a disease or sinful failing of the flesh. The Greeks understood that a river of desire flows through us, and that the ethical aim is to regulate its flow rather than stanch it. The difference between a just man and a degenerate is one of quantity. A good guy keeps it in the symposium, while the dangerous libertine is a cistern of needs (the lovely Greeks referred to him as wide-assed -- you can't fill him up no matter how you indulge him).
In the course of this, you get fascinating dissections of the classes of bodies for sale, from the openly transactional street prostitute to the ambiguous companionship of a hetaera, which depends on the possibility of failed reciprocity to build its erotic charge. The uncertainty of receiving the courtesan's favors in exchange for your gifts takes it out of the money economy and into the realm of the interpersonal bonds, which also forms the backbone of the democratic system. For the Athenians, bodily pleasures are intensely political. The invective of Aeschines against Timarchus is Davidson's primary source for teasing apart these relationships, although he discusses plenty of others.
My only real complaint is that Davidson could have achieved his aims faster. The book circles back to the same points repeatedly. While most of it is fun to read, it does drag a bit near the end. The overt political analysis was already baked into the preceding specific examples, so I'm not sure it needed the concluding chapters to make it exhaustively explicit. This is a minor complaint about a text that I found entertaining and illuminating. Highly recommended.
May 1, 2019
This was a re-read of a book I first picked up many years ago, and one that has stuck in my memory. As others have commented, the book is not for the novice. It assumes an existing familiarity with the history and society of ancient Greece, and delves into particularly specialised topics including colloquialisms and philology, gourmet and gourmand obsessions, body image versus attractiveness in others, and generally explores the thin line between pleasure and vice and how indulgence could be used in political narratives. If you’re not up for quite that level of detail, you may find yourself lost and/or bored reading this book. I however relished the read, and still do, mainly because the intimate understanding it offers into ancient Greek thought processes enabled me for the first time to ‘get the joke’, and that’s always a powerful moment for a student seeking to comprehend a distant alien culture from the past. It’s worth noting that the text is heavily slanted in favour of an Athenian perspective, but nonetheless, it’s an insightful read.
February 5, 2025
There were some really interesting parts to this book and also some... not so interesting. I love ancient greece and so reading more about day to day life, including a lot of sources I haven't dipped into myself was the goal.
The most interesting thing I took away was the cross over between sex work and spinning/weaving which I'd never heard of before. The chapters about these parts are some of the best but perhaps that's because I don't really care about how some people REALLY liked eating fish.
Was it informative? Yes. Did I learn new things? Yes. Would I rush back to read it? No
The most interesting thing I took away was the cross over between sex work and spinning/weaving which I'd never heard of before. The chapters about these parts are some of the best but perhaps that's because I don't really care about how some people REALLY liked eating fish.
Was it informative? Yes. Did I learn new things? Yes. Would I rush back to read it? No
July 31, 2017
The sort of effortless erudition to which one aspires. Davidson, through careful reading of plays, speeches and pottery art, reconstructs the the appetites of classical Athens.
The ancient Greeks felt very strongly about fish, and their caste system of courtesans seems quite foreign to us (though not perhaps to the Victorians, Davidson points out).
This book is recommended to anyone who wishes to travel to that world, and who already posses some background in the plays of Aristophanes, the philosophy of Plato and the histories of Thucydides and Xenophon.
The ancient Greeks felt very strongly about fish, and their caste system of courtesans seems quite foreign to us (though not perhaps to the Victorians, Davidson points out).
This book is recommended to anyone who wishes to travel to that world, and who already posses some background in the plays of Aristophanes, the philosophy of Plato and the histories of Thucydides and Xenophon.
August 4, 2017
This is a thorough though at times repetitive book on the views of Classical Athenians on food, drinking and sex. It was well argued and meticulously backed up and rather enjoyable. It was educational and at moments very funny. Complex ideas are well explained and cited and great use is made of contemporary writings.
I'm not invested in whether he is 'Right' as some reviewers seem to be and I enjoyed the book a lot. He seemed to make his arguments well and his sense of Athens will remain with me.
I'm not invested in whether he is 'Right' as some reviewers seem to be and I enjoyed the book a lot. He seemed to make his arguments well and his sense of Athens will remain with me.
September 3, 2024
James Davidson shows an astonishing knowledge of Ancient Greek literature and culture and throws light on our modern understanding of this history from over two thousand years ago. I particularly enjoyed the opening chapter on the Greeks infatuation with delicious fish and seafood. My interest did wane overall as content was dense with different authors, philosophers and quotes that meant was not exactly an easy read. An interesting read for lovers of history, philosophy and Ancient Greek culture.
February 9, 2018
3.5
Kinda repetitive.
Kinda repetitive.
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