Originating from the fifth ‘Roman Family Conference’ held in 2007, this interdisciplinary book focuses on ‘the history of childhood, the concept of social memory, and the modes of construction and transmission of social identity’, areas of Roman social history generating much scholarly interest these days. The editors ask how ‘this complex process of bringing together collective memory with ancestral commemoration was conveyed to the Roman family on an everyday basis’ and take it ‘as a working assumption … that children were the key actors in this process’. The volume as a whole ‘focuses on the role of children in the transmission of social memory as an instrument for the construction of social identities within the family’ (9). Because of space constraints, I treat only those essays that struck me as especially noteworthy.

In Part 1 essays engage with memory and socialization within the family. Catherine Baroin looks at how families use memories of ancestors to build their identity, encouraging (or perhaps pressuring) children to imitate ancestral moral exempla by not just metaphorically ‘following in their footsteps’ but also imitating them in practices such as oratory, politics, and the military, and in the course of their lives. The descendant is the imago, or living memory, of the ancestor to others, to the extent that ideally the former is somehow superimposed on the latter. While the son cannot control whether or not his facial features resemble his father, he can consciously or unconsciously mould other aspects of his body to do so: his voice, his stance, his gait. Ann-Cathrin Harders examines ‘patchwork’ families to see how surrogate parenting, especially by cognate kin, affects socialization and shapes tradition. Given that children were socialized by imitating their fathers, Harders investigates what happened when fathers were missing: who took over the fatherly function, and what were the consequences of socialization by ‘imitatio alieni’ on these boys? Examining case studies from the late Republic, including the Gracchi, Cato the Younger and Brutus, Harders finds that fatherlessness ‘opened up the possibility of reshaping the family tradition, and in consequence one's own identity’ (70); her essay highlights the importance and influence of wider kinship networks in Roman life. Francesca Prescendi extends the discussion of the socialization of children via exempla by focusing on how that works in one important area of Roman life, religion. In the process of performing rites, children imitated adult non-verbal behaviour such as gestures, postures, gait, and paralinguistics (i.e. tones of voice). Prescendi examines children as the objects and the agents of rites, performing activities that symbolize their future gender rôles, such as soldier (the lusus Troiae, a ritual parade) and matron (the weaving of the rica for the flaminica). Children participated as ceremonial assistants in many different religious activities, learning by doing, but also acquired religious knowledge by studying it formally.

Michel Fuchs discusses landscapes on villa wall-paintings that depict scenes of ancient Roman daily life, especially the recurring motif of what seems to be a mother-daughter pair, often pictured near a shrine. Fuchs suggests that this motif indicates the close relationship between girls and their mothers, as girls shadow their mothers, learning their rôles through imitation. I would like to have seen Fuchs speculate as to why this scene was popular in élite villas. Did such mother-daughter scenes allude to the important public rôle that women played in religion, and imply to viewers that the women of the house performed this rôle admirably? Did such scenes help to create family identity and memory?

Véronique Dasen examines imagines maiorum in one of the most interesting essays of the book. After discussing what we know (and don't know) about the production and use of élite wax imagines, she collects evidence for and discusses alternate forms of imagines, such as plaster masks of imperial non-élite children, which may show freedmen reworking aristocratic practices of memoria. Dasen's section on children's plaster moulds and portraits found in funerary contexts is fascinating, with arresting illustrations of modern casts made from the originals. She speculates as to the reasons for making such moulds, which seem to show ‘a desire to keep a faithful memory’ of what these children actually looked like. Perhaps the creation of multiple copies of portraits of dead children served as a mourning strategy to help alleviate grief. On the other hand, a truly life-like portrait might prolong grief; Dasen proposes that idealized portraiture might have ‘represented a comforting compromise’ (144). In addition to funerary contexts, plaster and wax portraits of non-élite children served as a means to create family memory focused on descendants rather than ancestors.

Späth's essay uses Cicero's letters to discuss his emotional expressions regarding his son and daughter. To determine if his actions reveal what moderns construct as universal parental love, or ‘a specifically Roman type of parental affection’ (149), Späth identifies Cicero's stated concerns for his children and the gender-specific differences in his treatment of them. After examining their education and the different ways in which Cicero promoted their careers, Späth concludes that the orator and New Man loved his children as imagines of the Tullii Cicerones family who worked with him to construct their identity and memory.

Part 2 consists of essays investigating aspects of children of problematic status who are ‘excluded from tradition’ (12). Francesca Mencacci looks at the different kinds of speech allowed to free and slave children; whereas free children were socialized to exhibit self-control and modestia, vernae and deliciae were allowed verbal licentia. Relationships between masters and such slave children were close but of short duration, ending with adolescence. Mencacci outlines how this licentia served to ‘mark from early on the social barrier that divides the freeborn from slaves, making it immediately obvious and almost “naturalizing” it’ (239). She ends with Seneca's chilling account of running in to one of his former pet slaves, now an older, work-worn man. When the man asked if Seneca recognized him, he was treated contemptuously. Hence we get a glimpse of the emotional consequences for these small slaves, trained to behave in certain ways with their masters and rewarded with affection, only to be cut off from that relationship and booted out of the house at childhood's end. The final chapters concern threats to familial memory such as the sickness and death of children. Judith Evans Grubbs examines the dynamics of infant exposure in the imperial period and the ‘legal attitude toward those who abandoned infants and toward the abandoned infants themselves’ (293). In sum, the evidence shows that rescued expositi often lived as slaves in the same neighbourhood as their birth parents and exposers. Some families sought to reclaim their abandoned children later, a situation that often created conflict. If a person's free birth could be proven, his or her status was restored. It was a surprise to me that people often knew the real identity of these exposed children.

This is an interesting, generally well-edited book that extends our knowledge of the Roman family and children's rôles within it. The essays explore the ways in which actual practice could differ from the normative familial model, allowing for the messiness of ‘real life’ and its challenges for both the élite and non-élite. Those interested in ancient family life will profit from reading them.