In both China and Greece, religion was an area in which women played prominent roles and received formal social recognition. If the distinct religious structures of China and Greece had profound implications for the forms and ideals of male sociability in the two societies, as shown in Part 1, what will we find when we turn to the other half of the population? We have seen that the centrality of the highly competitive public festivals and the secondary status of domestic religious practices in Greece corresponded and contributed significantly to the preeminence of the common domain in Greek society. Where did this religious structure leave the wives and daughters, who were denied political participation and expected to be fully devoted to their domestic duties? How did the women's extensive presence in various public religious occasions (particularly their participation in the female choruses at the festivals) on the one hand and the little knowledge that we possess of their religious activities at home on the other hand square with such family-centered expectations? If for men religious participation was a crucial means for asserting membership in a community of peers and for forging extrafamilial group solidarity, how should we characterize the role of religion in Greek women's lives if it seems to have encouraged the same values centered on extrafamilial homosocial bonding?

The disparity between gender norms and women's religious participation in Greece apparently did not exist for Chinese women.

This chapter – the second of three that examine the surviving copy of the Peutinger map from multiple perspectives – is divided into four principal sections. These consider the fundamentals of the map's design; the mapmaking practice that it reflects; and the map's various physical and cultural components, with special reference to the route network and associated pictorial symbols. Because, remarkably, no such detailed analysis of the map from a specifically cartographic viewpoint has ever been attempted, this chapter in its turn breaks new ground and may thereby contribute to the broader history of cartography. Uniting the chapter's sections is a concern to elucidate the range and quality of expertise that the map's cartography displays, as well as to identify what may be deduced about the aims that its maker had in mind. Findings here are incorporated into the wider appraisal of the context and purpose originally intended for the map, which is to follow in Chapter 5. The analysis in the present chapter depends upon the unverifiable assumption that the surviving copy does represent a sufficiently accurate rendering of the lost original as to permit a reliable discussion of its design and character by reference to the copy alone. To some degree or other, this assumption is likely to be flawed, and hence the issue of the copy's divergence from the lost original is specifically addressed in Chapter 4. In the absence of detailed testimony beyond the single copy, however, there is no alternative means by which to proceed.

The Greek protagonist of the warrior-banqueter-lover type finds a very different counterpart in the Chinese convivial discourse. Even though fighting was a key function of the Zhou aristocracy and festivities were an important vehicle for the expression of social values and the forging of group cohesion, the major material for the Chinese representation of convivial life came from kin gatherings and kinship solidarity. We see a striking contrast between the agonistic spirit and strong extrafamilial male homosocial bonds that predominate in the Greek sources and the preoccupation with domestic harmony and order in the transcribed thoughts and emotions of the Chinese merrymakers.

The analysis of this chapter falls into three major parts. We begin with Chinese religious festivities, including festivals in honor of deities and banquets associated with ancestral sacrifices. Then we move on to banquets celebrating military victories. Finally, we examine how the relationship between kinship and friendship was a serious question in the minds of the Chinese banqueters and how they reasoned about and formulated their answers. Comparisons will be made with Greece throughout the chapter.

Besides using bronze inscriptions, prescriptions for drinking rituals found in the Book of Etiquette and Ceremonial (Yili), and a few other sources as corroborating evidence, the bulk of the primary material analyzed in this chapter comes from the Book of Odes. This anthology consists of 305 poems in four divisions.

This book is a study of interpersonal relationships and structures of sentiment, with a special focus on their reflection in various sociable contexts and on the gender dimension, in ancient China and Greece (ca. 10th–4th centuries bce). By examining a wide range of sources (mainly literary and historical) that show men and women engaging in the collective pursuit of pleasure on such occasions as family banquets, public festivals, and religious feasts, the study aims to illuminate the different sociopolitical mechanisms, value systems, and human bonds in the two classical civilizations that have exerted far-reaching influences in numerous areas of human experience.

My inquiry steps outside the predominant subjects of study in the fast-growing field of China–Greece comparative research, namely, science, medicine, philosophy, and historiography. By focusing on human interaction in convivial settings, I seek to create a portrayal of the two ancient civilizations that has both structure and texture and that is both more dynamic and more concrete than earlier studies.

My study explores important topics in gender studies and family and women's history, including the relationship between the public and domestic domains, the dynamics of sexual rivalry and cooperation, the implications that homosocial bonding and gender relations have for each other, the role of religion and ritual in women's lives, and the relationship between female subjectivity and male imagination.

THE MAP IN RELATION TO CLASSICAL CARTOGRAPHY

Our ignorance of large Greek and Roman maps in general, and of the Peutinger map's original in particular, is so profound that it remains impossible to determine with confidence just how creative a work the latter really was. It is at least conceivable, however, that no previous mapmaker had been so bold as to take a frame of such extreme dimensions and then to set the entire orbis terrarum within it, with the city of Rome as the center point – all of which required that the landscape be remolded on an epic scale. There seems no reason to doubt that the large maps of which we are dimly aware reflect, by contrast, the scientific tradition of Hellenistic Alexandria with its concern for accurate representation of the world. To be sure, such cartography still offered ample scope for parading Roman achievements, and it was undoubtedly exploited for this purpose, as Eumenius illustrated at Augustodunum in the late 290s.

Naturally enough, it had been the Romans's traditional habit to envisage their surroundings from the vantage point of Rome and Italy at the center. This outlook was reflected in the so-called miliarium aureum or “golden milestone,” evidently a pillar (now lost) that Augustus set up in the forum at Rome in 20 B.C.; it recorded distances between Rome and communities throughout Italy.

The sole testimony to the claim that Johann Hugo Wyttenbach (1767–1848) had discovered a lost piece of the map is a notice published in the Trier'sche Zeitung on March 24, 1835:

N.B.: Citation styles, etc. have been left as in the original article.

VODNIK'S COPY OF THE TABULA PEUTINGERIANA

Jože Kastelic

A particularly interesting item, kept in the Archaeological Department of the National Museum, is an 1809 copy of the Tabula Peutingeriana. The first available edition of the Tabula from the Vienna original was produced by F. C. Scheyb in Vienna in 1753. In 1809 the French military commissar Étienne Marie Siauve, a well-known archaeologist, who at that time perhaps was preparing De antiquis Norici viis, urbibus et finibus epistola (published Verona 1811), tried to get hold of Scheyb's edition from Zois. Siauve gave a new impetus to Slovene archaeology, which at that time was represented by Vodnik; he trained Vodnik in epigraphy and numismatics, and acquainted him with the archaeology of ancient Emona. Zois sent the order for Scheyb's edition to Kopitar in Vienna, but in Vienna the famous book was out of print. Only with difficulty, and after a long search, Kopitar borrowed a copy from the Library of the Discalceate Carmelites, on condition that it was returned by New Year 1810, and he sent it to Ljubljana on October 10, 1809. At the same time he sent, in addition, a critical study of Scheyb's edition, a manuscript written in German by the Court Librarian, the ex-Jesuit Josef Benedikt Heyrenbach (1738–1779). But Zois returned the book with Heyrenbach's essay only at the end of January 1810.

Vodnik wrote out his Latin summary of Heyrenbach's German twice on both sides of three pairs of pages (approx. size 19 cm wide × 23 [7½ × 9 in.]), that is, covering a total of twelve sides. For the version followed here (Plate 9), the sheets have narrow margins at lefthand and right; the other version likewise has a narrow lefthand margin, but a wider one to the right. The lettering of this other version is rather less florid.

It is hard to be sure which version Vodnik wrote first, and the minimal degree of difference between the two renders the question unimportant. There are some minor variations in punctuation. In both versions, plenty of small slips have been corrected. Occasionally an apparent slip remains in one version but has been corrected in the other; in the handful of such instances where the version I follow is faulty, I have taken over the correction.

Where the ms. underlines once, I italicize; where it underlines twice, I add an underline to my italic.

Censura

Tabulae Peutingerianae adservatae in Bibliotheca augusta Vindobonensi; auctore Josepho Heurenbach custode ejusdem Bibliothecae; latine brevius reddita opera Valentini Vodnik lectore publico Poëticae, Geographiae et Historiae, in Lyceo Labacensi, in Carniolia Provincia Illyrici, anno 1809.

Heurenbach succincte redditus e Germanico, ita de hac tabula judicat:

Veritatis amore ductus de Tabula Peutingeriana dicam, quod sentio.

From here on, my attention no longer focuses on the surviving copy of the map but turns to the lost original. This chapter addresses its fundamentals: authorship and date; sources; context and purpose. By their very nature these aspects are interrelated, and any conclusions drawn about them can only be tentative at best in view of the loss of the object itself. But the importance of the questions to be raised justifies the attempt to formulate responses, however imperfect. Taken together, those proposed here envisage the original map as a bold experiment in combining and developing established approaches to cartography. A novel form of map is the result, with the forceful ideology of Diocletian's Tetrarchy (c. A.D. 300) as its principal inspiration.

AUTHORSHIP AND DATE

In antiquity it was rare for products of technical or artistic expertise to carry their maker's name. Thus the absence of any such name on the surviving copy of the map is no surprise, and the likelihood is that none appeared on the original in the first place. The only scholar who has proposed a named individual as the maker of the original is Konrad Miller. He dated it to the late fourth century and attributed it to Castorius. This identification derives from the fact that one Castorius happens to be the source most often cited in a Cosmographia (by an anonymous cleric claiming to be from Ravenna, c. 700) for information likely to be somehow derived from itineraries.

Map C outlines the Peutinger map's rivers eastward as far as the Euphrates and Tigris on BAtlas bases;

Map D outlines the Peutinger map's routes on BAtlas bases – but not beyond Maps 87 and 89, because too little is known for certain hereon;

Map E outlines the Antonine Itinerary's routes (ItAnt) on BAtlas bases;

Map F outlines the Bordeaux Itinerary's routes (ItBurd) on BAtlas bases.

Maps C–F may be overlaid upon one another. Each has the same “mosaic” of bases, which allows the user to proceed seamlessly through BAtlas. A Locator Outline (Fig. 7) of the BAtlas maps comprising the mosaic forms part of this Appendix. Each individual BAtlas map can be brought into the mosaic, or removed, as the user wishes. Be aware that, where two or more overlap, the upper map may need to be removed in order for certain data marked on the lower to be seen.

The mosaic presents these BAtlas maps at a consistent scale, which the user may enlarge or reduce freely. Caution: These maps were all produced for presentation at either 1:1,000,000 or 1:500,000 scale (shown on the Locator Outline); as with any map, the results are liable to prove unsatisfactory if an enlargement is attempted far in excess of the original scale. The lack of high definition in the maps' presentation reflects their intended role as no more than background here.

As Yvon Garlan has noted, the centrality of the warrior was asserted on all levels and in all realms of Greek society, from artistic representations of domestic life to the attributes of the Olympic deities to moral prescriptions on human good. Throughout Greek history, the image of a courageous fighter and loyal comrade was an ideal to which a Greek man was expected to aspire.

In this chapter I examine various aspects of this image as it appears in Greek literary representations of festivities. Military banquets were by no means the only or even the major places where both high competitiveness and strong extrafamilial homosocial bonds were nourished among the champions and citizen-soldiers of Greece. Nor were such bonds restricted to coeval adults. There was great continuity between a military agon (contest) and the agon in the athletic and musical competitions at the numerous public festivals, and the famous Greek pederastic love in its normative, educational function was governed by the same rhetoric of comradeship and agon. At parties and in the gymnasia, the older lover strove to prove himself the worthiest mentor and companion by transmitting his prowess, competitiveness, and social and political wisdom to the boy beloved and by helping the youth grow into a qualified citizen-soldier. The warrior ethos, with its dual valorization of camaraderie and rivalry, fully informed Greek sociability and accounted for the prominence of the comrades, citizens, and boys in Greek literary sources on male convivial life.

Seldom are visitors to the Manuscript Collection of Austria's National Library in Vienna permitted to inspect its set of eleven parchment segments that together form an elongated, squat, and not quite complete map of the Roman world, the so-called Peutinger map. The bold manipulation of landmasses, the detailed plotting of land routes with names in Latin, and the vibrancy of the color on most of the segments are just three among the wealth of impressive features that at once strike the viewer. Here is a major map that in its reshaping of continents recalls the futuristic Atlantropa project devised by Herman Sörgel (1885–1952). Altogether, however, it is a map without close match in any period or culture worldwide. Not least because autopsy is inevitably such a rare privilege, the primary purpose of this book is to render the map more widely accessible and more comprehensible with the support of up-to-date scholarship and technology. At the same time, the opportunity is taken to reconsider the map's design, purpose, history, and significance in the light of current ideas and methods.

The book proceeds on the basis of the long-standing view that the map itself is not an original creation, but a copy at several removes of a lost Roman forerunner. Such copying is the typical means by which texts from antiquity have been preserved. Even so, a vast range of classical authors' works no longer survives.