In Xenophon’s Oeconomicus Ischomachus instructs his wife in the management of their household. The detailed account of this subject which emerges has no parallel in Greek literature. Textile production is an important aspect of this household’s implicit self-sufficiency, which in this respect is still Homeric. Ischomachus’ division of his and his wife’s spheres of activity between outdoors and indoors also corresponds to Hector’s admonition to Andromache in the Iliad (6.490-93). There is a fundamental dissymmetry between Ischomachus and (...) his wife. His rationale for the division of labor between men and women reappears in another form in Aristotle’s account of the origin of the polis in the Politics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Xenophon, Oeconomicus: A Social and Historical CommentaryAlison BurfordSarah B. Pomeroy. Xenophon, Oeconomicus: A Social and Historical Commentary. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994. xii + 388 pp. 3 pls. 1 fig. Cloth, $75.00.Xenophon has often been dismissed as a light-weight essayist of considerable charm but limited analytical capacity. His dialogue, Oeconomicus, tends to be perceived primarily as a ragbag for social historians in pursuit of a reference. Both deserve better, (...) and this Sarah Pomeroy’s new commentary now provides. As its full title promises, it constitutes an invaluable supplement both to the study of Xenophon and to ancient social history. Discussion is well informed throughout, and many fundamental questions arise for consideration regarding modern perceptions of the ancient economy, Xenophon’s own economic viewpoint, and the true nature of the dialogue. The introduction, while inevitably addressing all the familiar topics, stands on the far less familiar premise that Xenophon pursues a coherent, consistent, and in some ways quite radical agenda, and that what has been widely regarded as episodic or anecdotal in nature is a unity in style and argument (5ff. and 14–20). Oeconomicus is for P. a combination of philosophical dialogue and agricultural treatise (263). The central theme, therefore, remains the obvious topic of household and estate management, with this difference that Xenophon intends an analysis of the domestic economy—its nature and what makes it tick, not a mere exposition of “how to run” a marriage, a house, and an estate—as his own dismissive remarks on manual-writers (xvi.1), and the sharp Socratic character of the dialogue might suggest. But the complex literary style and the telling dramatic character of the dialogue, of which her comments make us aware, are such as to suggest that Xenophon’s argument is even more authoritative than she allows.Amidst the commentary’s great wealth is the discussion of Ischomachus’ role. How historical a figure is he? P. gives a succinct account of the matter (259–64), and deals with Xenophon’s use of humor which has been variously interpreted. Some see the portrayal of Ischomachus’ marriage as a satirical joke against the historical figure, but P. while allowing for humor within the conversation between husband and wife considers that Xenophon’s overall intention is [End Page 492] serious, if not necessarily factual, and the ideal marriage is integral to the idealisation of the past which is part of the overall design. P. points out that the dramatic date of the dialogue is fixed very imprecisely within the later fifth century (18f.). At the same time Xenophon moves between past and present from the good old days to the less glorious now when, P. and others have argued, Athenian society had been irrevocably altered by the effects of the Peloponnesian War (47). She observes (31) that institutions may only elicit overt comment on the inception of their decline, so that Xenophon can be understood as recording the fading-away of traditional mores in marriage and the self-sufficiency of the household. Yet the existence of a written account need only signify a new interest within narrow literary circles in certain subjects—power-politics surely outlasted Thucydides’ time.Is it a problem that Xenophon appears both as a conservative traditionalist and as an analytical observer of Athenian society and domestic economy in its present state? We may simply regard the apparent contradiction as intentional on Xenophon’s part in this multifaceted and many-layered work, as P. does, or we can make additional assumptions. One might be that the war’s effects were less severe than P. supposes, and that Xenophon is both responding to a need to reenforce traditional values, rather than to recommend them to an age which has lost them, and commenting on the enduring good practices which have always produced beneficial results. Another might be that Xenophon certainly is playing many games here, the most complex of which is to refer to his real concerns by analogy, and that what seems to be the big picture (the domestic economy) is only the reflection. He does indeed idealise the past, as P. points out, particularly in his Persian section (iv, her commentary on... (shrink)

Xenophon’s Oeconomicusincludes an interesting treatise on married life, at the hearth of which is the figure of Ischomachus’ wife, such as she is described by Ischomachus’ words to Socrates. It is an almost innovative figure, because she shares the management of the oikosas being responsible for what is carried out within the oikos: her role is different from her husband’s, who runs and manages what is carried out outside of the oikos. Therefore husband’s and wife’s tasks are different, (...) though complementary. The difference in inclinations and, therefore, roles is shown as established by god, nature and custom. So Ischomachus’ wife is a collaborator and companion of her husband, even though she does not have an equal relation with her him: she manages the activities and people within the oikosaccording to her husband’s directives. Also in the sphere of sexual life she has to conform to his desires and convictions; her own status as a wife will be preserved only if she meets his expectations: paradoxically her own autonomy is other-directed. Even if she may be considered a “maîtresse de la maison”, nevertheless, as Foucault outlined with a very incisive expression, she is anyway the “maîtresse obéissante de la maison”. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Free as a Bird: Varro De Re Rustica 3C. M. C. GreenMarcus terentius varro is a most difficult writer to assess. The very high regard in which he was held by the greatest writers of his—or any—time is supported by a fragmentary structure made up of a mass of tantalizing titles, excerpts, and allusions gathered from later authors, the reflection of his Res Divinae in Augustine, the extant books (...) of his De Lingua Latina, and De Re Rustica. The last of these, De Re Rustica, is the only complete work of Varro’s we possess, and therefore on it must be tested all our theories and suppositions about Varro as a writer. Unhappily, the artistic weaknesses of this work seem only too apparent. 1 The subject—managing a villa economy—is not one to readily attract most readers in and of itself, and Varro’s undeniable learnedness is exhibited to us in a narrative full of “hasty remarks, conversational language, rhetorical nostalgia, and, crowning all, the anacoluthons,” all of which muddle his discussion, and produce a prose “style” that defies categorization, if not description. 2It is truly unsettling, then, that the opening of each of the books of [End Page 427] De Re Rustica presents to us a Varro whose urbane wit and literary skill are much more in accord with our expectations from the immensely learned friend of all the great writers of the late Republic, and particularly from the author of Menippean Satires. Such is the disparity between the charm of the dialogues’ setting and the dry exposition of the factual material, and so indifferently are they linked, that one could suppress the first, as Boissier suggests, 3 without noticeably affecting the second. The result, a learned and somewhat tedious discussion of agriculture, would be understandable: practicality and Cato’s crabbed example would naturally excuse Varro from the higher artistic requirements. Yet the dramatic dialogue suggests that the author intended more than a dry exposition of material—though it is a suggestion which is left unfulfilled and, at first sight, seems to do little more than demonstrate its irrelevance.My aim in this essay is to suggest that we have been taking Varro at once too seriously, and, paradoxically, not seriously enough. That is, we have been reading De Re Rustica so intently as a (lady-)farmer’s vade mecum—Varro began the project, he says, at the request of his young wife who wanted to know how to manage her new estate (1.1.1–4)—that we have not given its author’s wit and literary subtlety the attention they deserve. The ruthless either/or of academic categorization has misled readers; either Varro is joking, they tend to assume, or he is serious. That he might be both at the same time is an idea that needs more help than we have so far been given. It is my contention that his wit is more carefully wrought, and is reaching toward far more serious matters than the details of how to farm.If we begin, first, by allowing the possibility that Varro had a purpose beyond packaging some important agricultural information in a decent volume; and if we then proceed by taking the paradoxes of De Re Rustica as being intentional, and therefore having meaning, we may at least open the door to new observations. The genre is defined (or so it seems) immediately by the opening of book 1, the dedication to Fundania; it is a handbook, since that is what Varro’s bride asked for. Yet the dialogue form signals some kind of philosophical genre, taken more or less seriously. We look, therefore, to Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, in which Ischomachus and Socrates discuss farming and, in particular, Ischomachus’ [End Page 428] fifteen-year-old wife’s management of her part of the oikos. 4 Then there is the dramatic framing of the three books, each with a very distinctive and rather unphilosophical setting, and dates that are mutually discordant. 5 This, combined with the enchanting name-play lavished on most of the characters in the dialogue, 6 suggests a comedic influence. The whole mixed bag taken together—handbook, philosophical... (shrink)