2. Performance-Critical Caricature?

Compared to more established methods, performance criticism is a relatively new phenomenon in the world of biblical studies, and the literature on the subject is, admittedly, not extensive. Nonetheless, as Hurtado acknowledges, important research has been published in an array of journals, monographs and edited volumes.Footnote ⁹ Given the appearance of this literature, it is all the more striking that Hurtado's essay is based upon a limited engagement with the literature and, at times, provides a somewhat distorted portrayal of the discipline. Several examples exemplify this tendency.

According to Hurtado, scholars working in the field of performance criticism have misinterpreted the historical data by minimising the place of written texts. He argues that ‘in the recent advocacy of the “performance” of texts in earliest Christianity there is often the fallacy of a kind of zero-sum game in which emphasising the place of Roman-era “orality” is at the expense of recognising the significant place of written texts and their various uses in that period, producing an oversimplification of matters’.Footnote ¹⁰ Hurtado is particularly concerned to show that scholars have overdrawn the boundaries between oral and written media, and in the process marginalised the place of the written word. Though a fair critique in certain respects, as Hurtado concedes, initial discussions were dependent upon the exaggerated conclusions of classicists regarding the so-called ‘Great Divide’—that is, the relationship between oral and written media. What Hurtado overlooks, however, is that current discussions of performance generally embrace a more balanced perspective. Holly Hearon, for example, who has been a leading advocate of performance criticism, offers this assessment, which is worth quoting in full.

Such language is not uncommon in the literature and extended discussions of the subject are featured in the Biblical Performance Criticism series (Cascade) edited by David Rhoads. The symbiotic relationship between orality and literacy is explored at length in several volumes, and is reflected in chapter and section titles such as ‘Orality and Manuscript Culture in Early Christianity’,Footnote ¹² ‘Literacy and Orality in Preexilic Israel’,Footnote ¹³ ‘Literacy and Orality in Relation to the New Testament’,Footnote ¹⁴ and ‘The Complex Interface between Oral and Literate Traditions'.Footnote ¹⁵ All interact with the question of a media world informed by the rich interplay between textuality and orality and, though Hurtado references the series, his analysis does not interact with these works and, consequently, fails to appreciate the contours of the scholarly literature. Performance scholars have undoubtedly placed emphasis on the spoken word, but given the challenge of swinging the interpretive pendulum in a new direction, the ‘fixation’ seems justified. Despite Hurtado's insistence, performance critics have sought to use orality not as a ‘basis for minimising the place of texts’,Footnote ¹⁶ but to explore how communities typically encountered biblical texts in the ancient world.

Unfortunately, this kind of overgeneralisation is not an isolated issue but emerges at a number of points in the essay. The article begins with the claim that ‘[o]ver the last few decades a small but increasing number of scholars have postulated that in early Christian circles texts such as those that make up the New Testament were originally “performed” … involving (it is proposed) recitation of the texts from memory (not reading from a manuscript)’.Footnote ¹⁷ The first portion of the description provides a broad and accurate depiction of performance research, but the last assertion, when linked to the general portrayal of ancient media studies, is inaccurate. Hurtado seems to assume that performance involves the memorised delivery of a narrative, that the movement is virtually defined by the assumption, and that the concept therefore represents one of the ‘crucial claims and inferences’Footnote ¹⁸ made by performance critics.Footnote ¹⁹ While such a practice has certainly been discussed, memorised delivery is not a cornerstone of performance-critical research. Scholars such as William Doan and Terry Giles, Pieter Botha, Jeanette Mathews and Glenn Holland have all suggested that performers may have utilised written texts in the act of delivery.Footnote ²⁰ Even some associated with the position that Hurtado describes make important qualifications. Whitney Shiner, for example, offers this assessment:

An appreciation for this type of nuancing is absent from Hurtado's essay and is not insignificant. Further evidencing this trend, one might additionally note the repeated reference to the composition of the gospels in performance – a point that Hurtado argues lacks any historical basis. Although Wire has recently offered a lengthy argument in support of the position,Footnote ²² it is not the case that this approach to performance criticism or any of the above assertions are ‘crucial claims’Footnote ²³ or ‘key assumptions’Footnote ²⁴ as Hurtado suggests.

Regrettably, these generalisations represent several of the primary concerns in the essay. Sensitivity to these nuances might seem like a benign oversight, but the collective impact creates a false impression that distorts the contours of the discussion. Though Hurtado, in places, seems to engage in a more qualified discussion with certain scholars,Footnote ²⁵ the title, abstract and introductory comments are articulated in a manner that depicts performance critics as a homogeneous group whose perspectives are represented in the pages that follow. As it stands, the portrayal of performance criticism reflects a limited engagement with the scholarly literature and erects something of a straw man. Ironically, the characterisation of performance criticism sounds more like oral tradition than a careful scrutiny of the manuscript tradition.

3. Ancient Literacies

The essay argues at length that reading and writing were more common in the Greco-Roman world than is often suggested. Hurtado makes a number of assertions that are intended to question the work of performance critics, who have typically assumed that the majority of individuals in the Greco-Roman world were incapable of reading (or writing) literary texts such as the gospels. Along these lines, Hurtado – citing the work of others, particularly Parker and Bagnall – affirms that ‘[w]riting was everywhere, and a very wide range of people participated in the use of writing in some fashion’.Footnote ²⁶ He concludes that ‘the assumption that Rome can be considered an “oral” society … is mistaken’,Footnote ²⁷ noting that performance critics have ignored the historical data and that there was a ‘widespread literacy’ in the ancient world.Footnote ²⁸

While perhaps true, these statements are left unqualified and are open to confusion. At issue is not the suggestion that many individuals were ‘literate’, or even possessed the ability to engage in the kind of private and/or silent reading that characterises modern notions of the concept. The question is in what capacity literacy can be deemed ‘widespread’ and to what degree ‘literacy’ can be spoken about in monolithic terms. As in every culture and time, literacy is a complex phenomenon, and defining the term is of crucial importance for making judgements about the relative levels within a society.Footnote ²⁹ Rosalind Thomas offers this perspective on the discussion:

Unfortunately, Hurtado does not define what he means by ‘literacy’, nor does he differentiate between the necessary skills required to engage various kinds of textual artefacts. Although Hurtado consistently refers to Greco-Roman ‘literacy’, many scholars now refer to ‘literacies’ (pl.) as a means of more accurately describing the variegated skills necessary to engage in literary activities across commercial, private and institutional sectors of the ancient world.Footnote ³¹ The absence of such a qualification is all the more startling given that Hurtado's work is dependent upon a volume entitled Ancient Literacies – the primary aim of which to explore the ‘the conception and construction of “literacies” in the ancient world’.Footnote ³²

For the purposes of Hurtado's essay, the absence of this qualification leads to a conspicuous conflation of evidence to advance the notion of a ‘widespread literacy’. In particular, Hurtado marshals data that may not be directly relevant or definitive in answering the broader question – that is, what percentage of individuals were capable of reading a gospel text or epistle? For example, Hurtado appeals to the numerous and diverse expressions of writing discovered at Pompeii as evidence of this ‘widespread literacy’.Footnote ³³ But, while it may be that over 11,000 artefacts reflecting some form of literary ability have been identified, the appeal to graffiti, shipping labels and ledgers is potentially a category mistake that obscures the question at hand.Footnote ³⁴ Such evidence is certainly valuable, but the mere presence of literary remains tells us relatively little about the level of literary ability, particularly whether individuals capable of rudimentary written expression were able to read (or write) sophisticated literary texts.Footnote ³⁵ Thus, the unanswered question in the essay is what exactly Hurtado means by ‘widespread literacy’ since most of the evidence supplied is not directly applicable to the question of reading gospel-like texts.

Although unstated, the evidence cited by Hurtado goes to establish a different notion, that is, that the Roman world was a ‘literate society’. In communal terms, M. C. A. Macdonald has defined a ‘literate society’ as one ‘in which reading and writing have become essential to its functioning, either throughout the society (as in the modern West) or in certain vital aspects, such as the bureaucracy, economic and commercial activities, or religious life’.Footnote ³⁶ In such contexts, because of a culture's dependency on the written word, a society may be classified as ‘literate’ even though the majority of individuals do not possess the requisite skills to read and/or write in any advanced sense. In this respect, it is legitimate to describe Rome as a literate society, despite the fact that the majority of individuals would have been incapable of reading or writing texts similar to those found in the biblical literature.

Regrettably, though such a conclusion would have been appropriate, Hurtado's discussion of ‘literacy’ does not proceed in this fashion, but instead focuses on literacy ‘rates’. The essay does offer a few qualifications noting, for example, that ‘reading became a feature of much wider circles than ever before’ – thus referring to growing literacy in historical terms or as it pertains to socio-economic status.Footnote ³⁷ However, the discussion of the subject begins by observing that ‘yet another oversimplification and error relates to estimates of rates of literacy, with advocates of “oral performance” typically emphasising that only a small minority of the Roman-era populace were literate’.Footnote ³⁸ Notwithstanding that the essay does not cite an example of this ‘oversimplification’, Hurtado neglects to explain how performance critics have misunderstood or misconstrued ancient literacy rates. Because of this potential confusion, coupled with the data allegedly evidencing a ‘widespread literacy’, the reader is given the distinct impression that performance critics have grossly underestimated the percentage of individuals capable of reading the NT, and that the relative proportion was much higher than typically assumed.

But if this is the oversimplification to which Hurtado refers, his conclusions are all the more perplexing given the affirmation of Harris' influential study. If only 10–15 per cent of the Roman population was ‘literate’ – that is, potentially able to read texts like the gospels – as Harris suggests,Footnote ³⁹ it is not entirely clear what Hurtado means by ‘widespread literacy’. Additional commentary would have been helpful, but Hurtado makes no attempt to clarify these potentially conflicting perspectives, nor does he demonstrate that a larger percentage of the Greco-Roman world was able to read literary documents (like the gospels). If the estimates are ‘broadly correct’,Footnote ⁴⁰ as Hurtado acknowledges, performance critics are right to emphasise ‘that only a small minority of the Roman-era populace’ would have been capable of reading the biblical texts.Footnote ⁴¹ Indeed, if the proposed rates were double or triple these figures, performance critics would be justified in affirming that the majority of individuals interacting with the biblical traditions did so through non-chirographic means, in a context where the textual artefact was mediated to the audience through a lector.

It may be that the Greco-Roman world was characterised by ‘widespread literacy’, but it was not widespread in the manner that Hurtado supposes. The evidence raised by Hurtado is indicative of a functional literacy utilised by individuals, such as merchants and shopkeepers, to carry out daily activities. This type of ‘everyday writing’Footnote ⁴² may have been relatively common, but it is not to be confused with the abilities obtained by a relatively small proportion of the population who were capable of reading and/or writing gospel-like texts. Performance critics (including myself) have not always appreciated the multifaceted character of ancient literacies, but considering the particular aims of the discipline, the locus of discussion has revolved around questions related to the dissemination of literary documents. In this respect, performance scholars have sought to understand the ‘publication’ of texts that, due to ancient literacies, virtually required oral performance for the sake of proclamation.

4. Ancient Delivery Practices

Essential to ancient media studies is the notion that the communication of ancient texts often involved performative dynamics. This assumption is widely held among performance critics, but represents for Hurtado ‘yet another problem’ alongside the other so-called ‘oversimplifications’.Footnote ⁴³ Specifically, Hurtado claims that scholars should not confuse ‘the reading of texts to groups with the actions of orators and/or actors’.Footnote ⁴⁴ He argues that those responsible for the reading of texts did not utilise the same techniques employed in rhetorical or theatrical settings.Footnote ⁴⁵ To obscure these differences is, according to Hurtado, a ‘category mistake’ that erroneously projects theatrical and oratorical practices upon the public reading of texts.

Though this assertion seems straightforward, Hurtado provides no specific examples nor does he interact with the performance literature. In light of the significance of the discussion, it is all the more perplexing that the evaluation is both brief and, at times, contradictory. As before, Hurtado leans heavily upon the work of Parker who claims that ‘elaborate precautions were taken to avoid tainting the poet-performer with the infamia of the actor’.Footnote ⁴⁶ He, along with Hurtado, concludes that the ‘reciter was always seated; he always had a text open before him; he did not use his hands; [and] he avoided facial expressions’.Footnote ⁴⁷ Though Hurtado concedes that such recitations included the use of ‘appropriate pauses, emphasis and pacing’ (an affirmation also shared by performance critics), he suggests that a lector is not to be confused with an orator and/or actor. As evidence of this assertion, Hurtado points to what he regards as a representative visual artefact from the House of the Tragic Poet in Pompeii. Specifically, he argues that the painting Admetus and Alcestis confirms this assumption since the image presents ‘a seated youth with an opened roll’ reading ‘to a small group of people, one of whom points to the text, apparently interested in its contents’.Footnote ⁴⁸

However, rather than solidifying the argument, the painting exposes the inherent weakness of the position. Conspicuously absent from Hurtado's description is a detail that suggests a potentially more complex scenario. Although the lector, the individual reading the text in the Admetus and Alcestis, is seated with an open scroll, he is explicitly using his right hand to gesture and is looking directly at one of the audience members. The omission of these elements is hardly trivial and represents at least one, and possibly two actions that were, according to Hurtado, atypical of lectors and often associated with orators or actors.Footnote ⁴⁹ While the depiction is a static image that may be open to other possible interpretations, the painting does not necessarily communicate what Hurtado suggests it does.

Even if it is broadly correct that lectors often displayed the characteristics indicated by Hurtado, it goes too far to assume that such characteristics ‘always’ defined their roles, that the performative boundaries between actors, orators and lectors were fixed, and that the early Christian communities necessarily and always adopted these practices for the reading of biblical texts. Hurtado proposes a rigid distinction between actors, orators and lectors, but such a view neglects the performative overlap between various practitioners in the ancient world. Take, for example, the delineation between actors and orators. The rhetorical handbooks made a concerted effort to differentiate performative styles between the groups. Quintilian encouraged his pupils not to emulate or take on the persona of an actor so as not to ‘lose the authority of the good and grave man’ (Inst. 11.3.182–4), and Cicero mandated that an orator should refrain from using gestures and movement borrowed ‘from the stage and the theatrical profession’ (De or. 3.59.220). But while fully acknowledging these kinds of statements, it would be a mistake to assume that orators adopted a wholesale rejection of the theatrical arts. Though such rhetoric may have been dictated, in part, by social concerns and the desire to differentiate the oratorical practices of the aristocracy from the more humble status of actors,Footnote ⁵⁰ if left decontextualised these statements gloss over the performative exchange between orators and actors. In fact, there is evidence indicating that some orators studied the theatrical arts for the purpose of enhancing delivery style.Footnote ⁵¹ Demosthenes, for example, was known to have significantly improved his delivery by studying with the actor Andronicus (Quintilian, Inst. 11.3.7; cf. Plutarch, Mor. 845B),Footnote ⁵² and Cicero benefited from a similar relationship with perhaps Rome's greatest actor, Quintus Roscius Gallus (Macr. Sat. 3.14.12), as well as Clodius Aesopus (Plutarch, Cic. 5.3). Gregory Aldrete has argued that despite the apparent distinctions between oratory and acting

This is not to suggest that all rhetoricians adopted this perspective, but it does indicate that some orators sought to learn from other artistic expressions and that the boundaries were not impermeable. The orator Quintus Hortensius was even known for his theatrical delivery style that delighted audiences and attracted the interest of well-known actors (Val. Max. 8.10.2). Thus, while the rejection of this kind of interchange by some orators might suggest a rigid bifurcation between performative styles, it more likely reflects a tacit affirmation of the performative syncretism that was likely on the ground. Though objectionable to some, the criticism of such practices was easier than disentangling the boundaries that had long since been blurred.

This kind of cross-fertilisation was not limited to the realm or oratory and theatre but, as suggested by the Admetus and Alcestis, transcended other contexts as well, including the reading of literature. This performative interchange is further illustrated in a letter from Pliny the Younger to Suetonius, in which Pliny requests advice about a personal dilemma concerning the recitation of poetry at an upcoming presentation (Ep. 9.34). Pliny has been told that his reading style is less than desirable and, after acknowledging the issue, questions whether it would be beneficial to employ a lector for the recitation of his work, for the purpose of creating a more enjoyable ‘reading’ experience. In what is an unusual twist – at least according to modern standards – Pliny then considers his own participation during the lector's reading. Specifically, Pliny inquires whether he should sit quietly among the audience during the recitation or, like others he is aware of, allow the lector to supply the vocal presentation while he himself provides visual accompaniment with lips, eyes and gestures.

Admittedly, the context in Pliny's letter is limited and one might have hoped for more description. Nonetheless, even if Pliny's query is light-hearted and ironic – thus mocking those who engage in such a practice – the point is essentially the same. At least some recitations followed a pattern whereby the reading of the text was accompanied by a dramatic presentation.Footnote ⁵⁴ As Raymond Starr has argued, the passage in question ‘shows the absence of a standard practice [among lectors]: some people let the reader handle the entire presentation, while others used him or her merely for the sound while they provided the visual effects, as it were’.Footnote ⁵⁵ Not only does such a scenario complexify Hurtado's envisioned model, it further underscores the kind of performative cross-fertilisation in the ancient world. Though unusual, the delivery practice described by Pliny was not created ex nihilo, but instead, as Quinn observes, reflects the techniques utilised by professional mimes and adopted in the oral ‘reading’ of poetry.Footnote ⁵⁶

Given this kind of performative interchange between orators, actors and lectors, we should not think that a single model or practice was followed among early Christians, particularly in the manner that Hurtado envisions.Footnote ⁵⁷ Not only does this seem reductionistic in light of the broader Greco-Roman evidence, to assert that lectors ‘always’ followed a certain delivery practice is strained (even) in view of the NT data. Hurtado suggests that there are a ‘number of places in early Christian writings that describe texts being read’ but that none portrays a ‘theatrical’ performance.Footnote ⁵⁸ The NT does include several places that mention the ‘reading’ (ἀνάγνωσις, ἀναγιγνώσκω) of texts, including Acts 13.15; 15.21; 2 Cor 1.13; and 1 Thess 5.27, but it is important to note that none of these passages actually ‘describe texts being read’ as Hurtado suggests. The passages in question reflect summary accounts that supply minimal detail about the actual reading event (e.g. Acts 15.21, ‘For from ancient times in every city Moses has those who preach him, because he is read in the synagogues every Sabbath’), and thus provide little probative value for assessing or dismissing the performance of NT texts.

There is, however, one text that requires additional commentary. Hurtado rightly points to the scene in Luke 4.16–21, where Jesus is depicted as reading from the prophet Isaiah. According to Hurtado, ‘Jesus [is] pictured as being handed a copy of Isaiah and opening it to a passage for reading out. Thereafter, he closes the scroll and hands it back to an attendant, and then speaks to the text read.’Footnote ⁵⁹ As a summary, this represents a fine depiction of the scene. But considering the scope of Hurtado's argument, there is a significant detail that is ignored. The text explicitly states that Jesus ‘stood up’ and read from the specified passage (καὶ ἀνέστη ἀναγνῶναι, Luke 4.16). While the orientation of Jesus' body might seem inconsequential, the episode is noteworthy in view of what Hurtado describes as one of the crucial features of a ‘skilled reading’. Most problematic is Hurtado's suggestion that the individual responsible for reciting a text was ‘always seated’. Here, however, in one of the few texts that provide information about the public reading of scripture in the NT, the scene reflects a different delivery practice: Jesus rises to read the text and returns to a seated position only after the completion of the designated text (καὶ πτύξας τὸ βιβλίον ἀποδοὺς τῷ ὑπηρέτῃ ἐκάθισεν, Luke 4.20). Unlike Hurtado's proposal regarding the appropriate body posture for a lector, Luke's portrayal evidences a different scenario.

It has been suggested that the depiction of the synagogue in Luke-Acts represents a post-70 formalism that has been retrojected onto the text,Footnote ⁶⁰ thus raising questions about the act of standing as a normative practice for scripture reading. However, as Oster has argued, the scene in Luke 4 is not anachronistic.Footnote ⁶¹ The act of standing to address a Jewish assembly was regarded by some as a universal practice in the first century. Indeed, Philo (Spec. 2.62) observes that this manner of delivery was practised in ‘every city’. Though such a categorical declaration may be an overstatement, even if the affirmation is an exaggeration, the adoption of the tradition by some Jewish assemblies may well have influenced the scriptural reading practices of certain Christian communities.Footnote ⁶² Again, this is not to deny the possibility of what Hurtado envisions, but it does suggest other potential influences upon the reading of biblical texts, which, at the very least, challenge the rigid assumptions about ancient delivery.

It therefore seems overly optimistic to affirm that the individuals responsible for ‘reading’ NT texts (including those who may have provided visual accompaniment) were always seated, always had a text open before them, and always refrained from non-verbal forms of communication, particularly since such recitations were not regarded as overly effective (cf. Pliny, Ep. 2.19.2–4). To posit that early Christian communities in various regions were somehow insulated from the delivery and performative practices in the wider cultural arena – either Greco-Roman or Jewish – or that they adopted a uniform model of scripture reading ignores the diverse performative winds blowing from various quarters within the Empire. Considering that the office of the lector was not institutionalised in the early church until the beginning of the third century,Footnote ⁶³ though some Christian communities may have employed individuals in the fashion suggested by Hurtado, it is equally probable that other communities of faith, situated in their own social locations and influenced by different delivery practices, enjoyed more expressive scriptural performances, replete with gestures, facial expressions and physical movement.

5. The Heart of Performance

Finally, and perhaps most problematically in an essay that is centred around a discussion of ‘oral fixation’, it is particularly telling that a primary point of emphasis advanced by performance critics is almost completely neglected. Considering the attention devoted to issues presented as being foundational (but are not), the essay conspicuously ignores the question of oral/aural reception – one of the indisputably central themes in ancient media studies. Whether texts were memorised by performers or composed in performance is a matter of debate among performance critics, but a decision on these matters is secondary to the larger enterprise of the emerging discipline. Of primary concern is that for the overwhelming majority of people in the ancient world, texts were experienced in an oral context. That is, although manuscripts may or may not have been present and/or used at the time of presentation, the audience encountered ‘the text’ through oral recitation.

While Hurtado appears to acknowledge that many early Christians would have heard the NT,Footnote ⁶⁴ he requires little interaction with this foundational assumption, other than to dismiss subtly the notion that silent reading and oral performance require differentiation. Throughout the essay, he refers to the individual responsible for the oral narration of texts as offering a ‘skilful reading’ because, as Hurtado asserts, ‘the point is that the action in question was reading from a manuscript’.Footnote ⁶⁵ Though descriptive in some respects, the characterisation betrays a chirographic predilection that ignores the complexities of the media event and minimises the dynamics at work in the communicative exchange. To confuse silent reading with public recitation ignores a host of interpretive issues and reflects a misunderstanding of media types. It may be that texts were read in a public environment, but it should not be assumed that audience experience is virtually identical with the act of private reading. As John Miles Foley has argued, performance is something ‘palpably different … [from] turning pages in a detached textual artifact’.Footnote ⁶⁶

Hurtado not only minimises this oral/aural exchange, his selection of terminology (i.e. ‘skilful reading’) is curious in that the essay is dependent upon research that continues to use the language of ‘performance’, even in contexts where a lector was responsible for the reading of the text.Footnote ⁶⁷ Johnson, for example, in discussing Lucian's polemic against a wealthy Syrian provincial who was more concerned with the status of texts than their content, describes the ‘reading’ experience as being driven by aesthetic and performative concerns. Johnson summarises:

Johnson's analogy decidedly situates the public reading of texts within the world of performance. For Hurtado to refer consistently to the recitation of texts as a ‘skilful reading’ minimises the aesthetic quality and performative dimensions at work in the oral arena. Even more problematic, to describe the scenario in this fashion nudges the conversation towards old paradigms (based upon literary perspectives) and ignores a significant component of the performance-critical discussion.