We have a very extensive squeeze collection here at From Stone to Screen. 1051 squeezes, to be exact – although about 200-300 of them are duplicates. The point of this entire project has been to digitize the squeezes, which we have diligently been doing, and to put them up on an online database. This hits a snag sometimes when we can’t identify where exactly the squeeze is from. Such as last Friday when Lisa came across this gorgeous squeeze while she was working at the Digital Initiatives lab.
Normally, we identify our squeezes by an index that was written up by Professor Nigel Kennell in the ’70s or by the handwritten notes by Professor McGregor that has the IG (Inscriptiones Graecae) number or the EM (Epigraphic Museum) number somewhere on the squeeze. With the delicate state of some of our squeezes, we are very grateful for these references. When Lisa couldn’t identify this stunning squeeze, though, she decided to try and take it to social media. She sent out a tweet on Friday afternoon calling all Greek epigraphists to help identify the squeeze which was quickly retweeted around the small but active epigraphic community.
Monday morning we tweeted out the image again hoping to catch some more scholars who hadn’t seen it before the weekend (because, in all honesty, it was late Friday afternoon). Within a couple of hours we had a very helpful reply that identified the squeeze as a stelae from Aixone.
Lisa compared the two images and agreed- they’re a match! We’re thrilled to have an answer to our mystery so quickly, through the wonders of the internet. This is one of the first times that we have gone to the public like this for help and it was fun to see how many people were thinking about the squeeze, proof that what we’re working towards will be used by other scholars in our field.
We are also deeply amused by how much simpler this process was than the debates that took place in the 1930s. One of our favourite parts of our squeeze collection is actually a letter between ‘Mac’ (Malcolm McGregor) and ‘Gene’ (Eugene Schweigert) from 1935 arguing over certain transliterations from a fragment of the Athenian Tribute Lists. Considering Mac was at the University of Cincinnati and Gene was at Johns Hopkins, the debates must have taken quite a while to come to a resolution. With how difficult squeezes are to read, it’s understandable that there was a lot to discuss. Plus, if you’ve read our previous posts about the process of digitizing squeezes, you know that one advantage to our new images of them is that epigraphists no longer needs to be able to read Greek backwards. Don’t forget, too, that epigraphic Greek was written in all capitals with no spaces or punctuation, it’s no surprise that sometimes the arguments came down to a single letter. Which was backwards. Today’s accessibility to images enables us to quickly compare images instead of relying on other peoples’ squeezes and readings of the inscriptions.
Beyond that, this letter also gives us an amazing insight into a man who is a legend in our department and a key player in the research on the Tribute Lists. When this letter was written he would have been finishing up his doctorate at the University of Cincinnati and only 25, around the same age as most of us who are working on this project. The two men are obviously friends and Gene begins the letter with “Short but violent spell of nostalgia now over. Its reoccurrence after some… puzzled famous Johns Hopkins physicians. Nature finally performed her cure.” Then he goes on to refute some of Mac’s theories and cheekily writes in the middle “Don’t worry about ἐξ ἀπογραφῆς or ἐδήμευΓαν etc. Your guess is just as likely.” Whether or not Mac was reassured that his guess was just as likely we’ll never know, but this conversation is reminiscent of ones heard around our department all the time.
This letter was written four years before the first volume on the Athenian Tribute List was published by McGregor, Merritt and Wade-Gery. Both men are mentioned in the letter and at the end Gene says that he wishes he could spend more time with Mac and West. Allen Brown West, though, died in a car accident in 1936 and the first volume was dedicated to his memory. The forward in the volume makes it quite clear that his work was invaluable to their research and that his friends missed him very much. Reading the letter, it’s not hard to see the similarities between these men who were at the beginning of their academic career 80 years ago and those of use who are working on this project today. It’s comforting, and entertaining, to see that they had to adapt to having long distance friends (which anyone in academia can tell you is a occupational hazard). In our department, working on a project at this magnitude is only possible because we rely on each as friends as well as colleagues, and it was nowhere near the scale as the ATLs. Who knows? It could always keep growing.
The question is, are our letters to each other just as entertaining at the one below? I think you’ll have to wait 80 years and accidentally find a copy of our e-mails in a drawer to find out. Until then, here is the sign-off from Gene’s letter.
I often think if I possessed Aladdin’s lamp I would wear it out wishing that I could transport you and West here. Merritt would like that, too. He said he would like a month’s session of pow-wow with West… Merritt is a jolly fellow. You should have been here this afternoon when he brought me – well, I haven’t enough room. Another time.
If you would like to read more about the adventures of Mac, Gene, West, Merritt and Wade-Gery, the forward of the first volume of the Athenian Tribute List has some more details on their journey to publish the ATLS.