AD 428

AD 428:
The History of a Year
at the End of the Roman Empire





This book about the Roman Empire in AD 428 is written by Giusto Traina, an Italian scholar who works at the University of Rouen in France.

His book has an unusual structure. He picks a year (AD 428) and then he tries to describe the situation in or around this year in different areas of the Roman Empire. The starting point is Armenia. From this location he travels around the Mediterranean Sea. He travels counter-clockwise, so first he travels west through the south of Europe and later he travels east through the north of Africa. The circle is completed when he arrives in Persia, Armenia's neighbour. Each chapter presents a new location and a new gallery of characters.

The English title - 428 AD - is unfortunate. The abbreviation BC (Before Christ) is usually placed after the year, whereas the abbreviation AD (Anno Domini) is usually placed in front of the year. The title should be AD 428 (not 428 AD).

The English subtitle - An Ordinary Year at the End of the Roman Empire - is unfortunate as well, because it claims that 428 was "An Ordinary Year." Traina makes no such claim in his book. The Italian subtitle is storia di un anno, i.e. The History of a Year, which fits the contents of the book very well. There is nothing "ordinary" about 428. This year was carefully chosen so that the author would have something to write about in each of the eleven chapters.

On the Amazon UK website there are excerpts from several positive reviews, including a review written by Kevin Winter in the Sacramento Book Review:

“The writing is crisp and clear, and while Mr. Traina introduces many different people to the reader in a short span, he carefully brings to life each one of them and gives us a glimpse into what life was like in an average year at the end of the Roman Empire.”

I do not agree with this. In the first place, the writing is not “crisp and clear.” I had to read several passages two or three times to understand them. I do not know who is to blame for this. The author? The translator? Or both?

Secondly, it is not true that the author “carefully brings to life” each of the persons mentioned in the book. In some cases there is a lack of ancient sources, and so the author is excused, but in other cases we have several ancient sources, and in these cases there is no excuse for a poor presentation.

Flavius Dionysius is the key person in chapter I. We do not know much about this person. All we know can be told in less than a hundred words. So how can a modern author bring this person to life? The answer is: it is impossible.

Theodosius II, his sister Pulcheria, and his wife Eudocia are the key persons in chapter IV. Since they are members of the imperial family, there are several ancient sources about them, but in spite of this fact, I do not feel that the author brings them to life in his book.

I think I get a better understanding of them by reading the chapter about the Theodosian dynasty in Annelise Freisenbruch’s book The First Ladies of Rome (2010).

Valentinian III appears in chapter V and VI. On page 41 Traina explains that the young man was engaged to Licinia Eudoxia (the daughter of Theodosius II) in 424, adding: “the wedding would take place in 439.” But the wedding took place in 437.

Augustine of Hippo is the key person in chapter VIII. Traina routinely refers to him as “Saint Augustine,” although we hear about his activities while he was still alive. To be a saint you must be dead.

What about illustrations? On page XIII the author explains:

“Michael Alram, of the Numismatic Commission of the Austrian Academy of Science, assisted me in finding some illustrations. My student Federico Montinaro produced the maps.”

Almost every chapter is illustrated by a map, so it is OK for the author to use the word “maps” in the plural. But apart from the maps (and a photo of the author on the back flap of the dust jacket) there is only one illustration in this book. How can he use the word “illustration” in the plural?

 

The lone illustration is a picture of a Byzantine coin, which appears two times: on the title page in black-and-white (diameter 3.6 cm), and on the front cover of the dust jacket in colour (diameter 12.3 cm). On the back flap of the dust jacket we find the following information:   

“Jacket image: Theodosius II. Für Aelia Pulcheria, Solidus MK RÖ 30162. Courtesy of the Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna.”

This coin was issued by the emperor to honour his sister, but the picture does not show the emperor or his sister. Pulcheria is on the other side of the coin!

Since every coin has two sides, it would be obvious to show both of them: the front (the obverse) as well as the back (the reverse). But here we have the back two times! Who is to blame for this? The author? The publisher? Or perhaps both?

This coin was issued in Constantinople around 414-419. The obverse shows a bust of Pulcheria facing right. The inscription reads AEL PULCHERIA AUG, i.e. Aelia Pulcheria Augusta. The reverse shows the goddess Victory facing right seated on a cuirass inscribing the Christogram (the Khi-Rho symbol) on a shield. The inscription reads SALUS REI PUBLICAE: “The welfare of the Republic.”

The exergue (the lower part of the coin) carries an inscription: CONOB, which stands for  “Constantinopoli obryzum,” i.e. a gold coin minted in Constantinople.

None of this is explained in the book. The picture of the coin is merely used as a decoration.

Both sides of this coin are shown in Freisenbruch, The First Ladies of Rome (illustration # 32). While the diameter here is only 4.8 cm, the quality is better than the large photo on the front cover of Traina’s book.

One of the reviews quoted on the Amazon UK website is written by Conor Whately in the internet magazine Bryn Mawr Classical Review (2009.10.31). The quote is accurate, but if you read the whole review, you will find that Whately does in fact have some important reservations about this book. Here are two examples:

Number one: 

“… the chapters seem to end rather abruptly, a point that hinders the unity of the book...”

Number two: 

“There are a number of points he mentions for which I think there might be other, more plausible explanations…”

Why do so many reviewers like this book so much? I suspect they were so enthusiastic about the unusual geographical structure of the book – the counter-clockwise tour around the Mediterranean Sea - that they forgot to think about how well the plan was implemented. I like the plan, too, but I think that the implementation is not so successful.

The author may have good intentions. But when we are dealing with a book, the only thing that matters is the result. In this case the result is not good enough, certainly not good enough to give it four or five stars. Therefore it can only get three stars.

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Giusto Traina,

428 AD: An Ordinary Year
at the end of the Roman Empire,
Princeton University Press (2009), 203 pages 

 

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