Artifact & Artifice is concerned with the relationship between the archaeology and the history of the ancient world. Jonathan Hall agrees with David Clarke that ‘archaeology is not history’ (212), in so far as historical documents and archaeological evidence sometimes require different analytical methods. Yet ‘history’ is not just the discipline that studies texts, but the human past as a whole, irrespective of whether documentary or material evidence is used: ‘There is no a priori reason why historical narrative cannot, or should not, be written on the basis of archaeology alone’ (215). The relationship is explored via nine case studies, an introductory and a concluding chapter.

H. examines both the material and written evidence for each case study authoritatively and in commendable detail. The case studies represent a somewhat arbitrary selection, over half of them centred on hypotheses that stations in the life of famous figures, or their final resting places, have been traced through archaeology, be they Romulus, Numa Pompilius, Socrates, Macedonian royalty, Augustus or St Peter. H. is able to demonstrate that the evidence is invariably not quite as strong as some would have us believe. He argues persuasively that it is sometimes more fruitful to regard literary traditions as attempts in antiquity to make sense of ruined antiquities on view (for example, 141–2). Yet, one cannot help the impression that case studies are picked to prove the hypothesis that material and written evidence are hard to reconcile and tell different stories. That is often true, but not always. One would have wished for a more balanced selection, featuring, for example, one of the mausolea or victory monuments whose identification is not in doubt. We indeed ‘should not assume that scattered literary notices and isolated archaeological features are the inevitable reflex of one another’ (207), but it should have been emphasized also that neither should we assume that they are not. Might, to cite just one example, the recently discovered Harzhorn battlefield, far beyond imperial frontiers in northern Germany, not be best explained with the, previously dismissed, reports in the Historia Augusta (Maximini 11.7–12.11) and by Herodian (7.2) that Maximinus Thrax ventured deep into enemy territory (cf. H. Pöppelmann et al. (eds), Roms vergessener Feldzug (2013))?

Commendably, H. repeatedly refers to modern scientific techniques, be they analyses of spring water and gas emissions at oracular sites, human osteology or modern dating techniques. Radiocarbon dating — indeed of limited use during the eighth- to fifth-century b.c. plateau in the calibration curve — is referred to. In other respects it is a rather traditional account. Case studies are taken exclusively from Greece and central Italy with the occasional reference to other Mediterranean sites and, scarcely, territories further afield where H. is less sure-footed. The claim (196) that ‘Josephus (Jewish Antiquities 18.9) tells us that the Jewish community in Babylon was all but annihilated by the emperor Gaius’ is evidently untrue. Neither was Gaius responsible for the massacre, nor does Josephus claim that he was, nor was ancient Babylon within or even close to the Roman frontiers then, and the passage refers to Babylonia, not just to Babylon (cf. T. Rajak in J. Wiesehöfer (ed.), Das Partherreich und seine Zeugnisse (1998), 314–17). Whilst one admires the authoritative knowledge with which both Greek and Roman case studies are otherwise presented, one wonders why the Greek and Roman world is geographically reduced to such a narrow core, hardly representative of the Roman Empire, the vast realms of Hellenistic kings or even the Greek world prior to Alexander.

H. argues (216–17) that it is ‘unrealistic to expect’ that one can acquire an in-depth familiarity with the ‘unwieldy abundance of data, methods, techniques and approaches’ in classical archaeology as well as what is expected of the ancient historian, notably in terms of mastering relevant languages. Is it really unrealistic to master some of these at least to the level that the meaning of key terms and statements can be interrogated whilst also knowing archaeological techniques and data? Many examples to the contrary could be cited. H. urges classical archaeologists to consider ‘the availability of textual documentation … a cause for celebration rather than — as inexplicably often seems to be the case — a source of embarrassment’ (215). Surely, this is explicable precisely through the growing unfamiliarity of archaeologists with documentary evidence, a state of affairs unlikely to improve if we accept H.'s argument that archaeologists and ancient historians have to go their separate ways and focus on their preferred methods. Artifact & Artifice makes a rather half-hearted plea for marginal improvements on the status quo. The division of scholars of the ancient world into ancient historians and archaeologists is here to stay, but more dialogue is much to be encouraged (219). Since having advocated a much more radical approach a decade ago (E. Sauer (ed.), Archaeology and Ancient History (2004)), I have observed little headway in bridging the divide, just the odd step forward, the odd step back and most scholars venturing no further out of their comfort zone. H.'s expectations may be defeatist, but perhaps indeed realistic.