Galilee Blooming: First Palynological and Archaeological Data from an Early Byzantine Cistern at Horvat Kur

Preliminary archaeological and palynological results are presented from an early Byzantine cistern of the village Horvat Kur in eastern Lower Galilee/Israel. The rural site was settled from the Hellenistic until the Early Arab period, its synagogue was constructed shortly after 425 AD and renovated sometimes during the 2nd half of the 6th century AD. It was abandoned probably as a consequence of the earthquake of 749 AD. The intact and properly sealed cistern contained complete or fully restorable pottery. Two cooking pots from the early 5th century AD comprised sediments which was sampled for palynological purposes. Both samples, as well as a sample from the soil beneath one of the pots and a modern surface sample from the site, revealed well preserved palynomorphs in comparably high concentration showing a great potential of the cistern as a pollen archive. The pollen content points to an open, grassy semiarid landscape with an apparent scarcity of cultivars and trees in the vicinity of the site and an abundance of herbs, especially Asteraceae, which are still commonly found in modern regional vegetation.

Dein Gott ist ein Esel. Griechische und römische Tierkarikaturen als Spiegel antiker Wertvorstellungen

Die Doktorarbeit “Dein Gott ist ein Esel. Griechische und römische Tierkarikaturen als Spiegel antiker Wertvorstellungen” hat sowohl die lange und intensive Beziehung zwischen Mensch und Tier als auch das antike Humorverständnis zum Thema. Trotz seiner verschiedenen Rollen als Helfer und Freund blieb (und bleibt) das Tier der Stereotyp des ‚Anderen’, das Gegenbild, das alle Menschen teilen. Das Lachen und damit die Karikatur wiederum helfen uns, zu reflektieren und Distanz zu den Dingen und vielleicht zu uns selbst zu gewinnen. Tierkarikaturen sind deshalb besonders geeignet, ein Spiegel menschlicher Fehler und Schwächen zu sein. In der Regel handelt es sich bei den antiken Tierkarikaturen um Bilder von Menschen, die tiergestaltig ‚verzerrt’ sind, zum Beispiel ein Lehrer mit dem Äusseren eines Esels. Solche Darstellungen sind ab dem 6. Jh. v. Chr. zu finden und werden in hellenistischer und römischer Zeit häufiger, wo der Fokus der Arbeit liegt. Meist sind es Terrakotta- oder Bronzefiguren, die verschiedenen gesellschaftlichen Bereichen zugeordnet werden können wie Religion, Politik, Freizeit usw. Unter Berücksichtigung des spezifischen kulturellen und funktionalen Kontextes jedes Stückes sowie zeitgenössischen schriftlichen Quellen wird die Bedeutung dieser Karikaturen erarbeitet.

Aristeas the Tourist

"Herodotus the Tourist" was the title given by James Redfield to his inquiry into Herodotus's ethnological system (Classical Philology, 80.2, 1985: 97-118). Redfield's insights, together with François Hartog's monograph The mirror of Herodotus (University of California Press, 1988), definitively modified our interpretation of Herodotus's Histories. In the present paper, I analyse the so-called Letter of Aristeas from a narratological perspective, suggesting that the anonymous author of the Letter deliberately constructed his main character ("Aristeas") as a Herodotus-like figure, who visits Judea and Jerusalem as yet another "tourist". In so-doing, the author's pseudo-ethnographic text produces a specific Jewish self-definition and identity in the Hellenistic period, mirroring both Greek representations of the Jews as a people of philosophers, and a Jewish interpretation of the ideal bios philosophikos, best typified through the Jewish compliance with the Mosaic legislation.

Leaving Home: Philo of Alexandria on the Exodus.

For Jewish-Hellenistic authors writing in Egypt, the Exodus story posed unique challenges. After all, to them Egypt was, as Philo of Alexandria states, their fatherland. How do these authors come to terms with the biblical story of liberation from Egyptian slavery and the longing for the promised land? In this chapter I am taking a close look at Philo’s detailed discussion of the Exodus and locate it within the larger context of Jewish-Hellenistic literature (Wisdom of Solomon, Ezekiel’s Exagoge). In Philo’s rewriting of the Exodus the destination of the journey is barely mentioned. Contrary to the biblical narrative, in the scene of the burning bush, as retold by Philo, God does not tell Moses where to go. Philo’s main concern is what happens in Egypt: both in biblical times and in his own days. The Exodus is nevertheless important to Philo: He reads the story allegorically as a journey from the land of the body to the realms of the mind. Such a symbolic reading permitted him to control the meaning of the Exodus and to stay, literally and figuratively, in Egypt.