If one theme can be said to unite the diverse group of texts known as the ancient Greek novels, it would be erotic love. Rachel Bird tackles this familiar issue from a fresh angle by focusing on sōphrosunē, which she argues is ‘abundantly present in characterizations and … intrinsic to the reading process’ (1). The choice to leave the term untranslated throughout allows Bird to explore its full spectrum of meaning with greater nuance, covering sexual chastity, moral prudence, emotional control and intellectual reasoning. As she rightly notes, there is no comprehensive treatment of novelistic sōphrosunē, and her monograph undeniably succeeds in offering a thorough and thoughtful analysis of this theme, albeit with some limitations.
The introduction surveys relevant scholarship, a history of sōphrosunē across classical literature and philosophy, spanning amongst others Euripides, Plato, Plutarch and a gesture towards Christianity, before describing the book’s structure. Bird outlines the organization of the work with admirable clarity, but less space is devoted to why this approach is necessary. Despite a short overview of scholarship which teases the importance of cultural context, feminist approaches and gender theory (2–4), exactly where this book sits within this landscape is unclear. Foucault’s famous and robustly critiqued theories are mentioned in passing (2), but Bird does not delve deeper into these wider debates about shifts in attitudes towards sexual ethics, or the distinctiveness of the novels’ portrayal of sexuality. Instead, Bird defines her approach as ‘working from the text outwards’ (1). This is an entirely reasonable methodology, but one which, given this lack of explicit contextualization, also raises questions about just how far outwards the book’s arguments should be extended.
The strength of the work lies in its close readings, and Bird consistently shows herself to be a perceptive novel reader. The first of the book’s three chapters, by far the longest and most dense, catalogues linguistic instances of sōphrosunē and associated terms within each canonical novel. While this is described as a focus on σωϕρ- terms (23), Bird wisely does not limit her analysis solely to these cognates, rightly arguing that hagneia (‘purity’ or ‘chastity’) in Xenophon of Ephesus (42–44) and parthenia (‘virginity’) in Achilles Tatius (76–80) also give insight into each novel’s depiction of sexuality. Bird’s analysis is thoughtful and frequently persuasive, as in her reading of Achilles Tatius through Plato’s Charmides (88–92), but the structure sometimes constrains the argument’s effectiveness. Although the wider discussion of Longus’ text is convincing, Bird somewhat tenuously hangs it on one of the only two instances of sōphrosunē in the novel, a passing reference to the name of the slave who abandons Daphnis as a baby (56). Similarly, although Bird describes Chaereas’ assault on Callirhoe as setting a precedent for the importance of self-control (31), this follows discussions of Dionysius and Artaxerxes, both of whom appear later in the novel. This nonlinear approach is not intrinsically problematic, but it does invite consideration of just how strongly sōphrosunē as a specific virtue, rather than a general concern for sexual ethics, is marked in each text from the outset.
The following chapters move beyond linguistic analysis to consider readerly responses to sōphrosunē, specifically audience voyeurism (Chapter 2) and metanarrative significance (Chapter 3). Many of the passages referenced here are well discussed, but Bird argues against the grain by considering opportunities for audience self-control rather than titillation, including in readers not traditionally considered through the lens of the ‘male gaze’. Yet Bird does not discuss the historical evidence for ancient readership which, although far from unproblematic, would have given more weight to the argument, as the careful speculation about female readers (151–52) otherwise risks resting on a potentially simplistic opposition between objectifying or identifying with novelistic heroines. The final chapter again retreads some well-covered ground, both in terms of passages discussed and narratological approach, but juxtaposes strikingly some of the most self-reflexive passages in Achilles Tatius and Heliodorus with the Ephesiaka (168–78), a text rarely assumed to possess such sophistication.
Bird’s analysis is insightful and precise, often building to convincing interpretations. Yet the focus on close textual readings in isolation from contextual concerns also limits wider conclusions. While the decision not to define sōphrosunē strictly is reasonable, this lack of broader contextualization allows it to slip from a culturally specific virtue to a more general antonym to erotic desire as the work progresses into increasingly self-reflexively narratological territory. In her conclusion Bird hints at a potential Christian resonance in Heliodorus’ representation of Charikleia (184), but otherwise the broader significance of novelistic sōphrosunē in the Imperial period and beyond remains an open question. This is not to chastise Bird’s work unduly for its limitations, since it undeniably succeeds in its stated aims. Given its success in building such a detailed and perceptive picture of sōphrosunē within the novels, however, hopefully Bird’s work will inspire further research beyond the texts as well.
