Journal of the History of Philosophy

1313 pages, including 915 pages of text and 200 of bibliography; 51 authors—in about 800 words! The editor of the present Cambridge History makes plain that his new two-volume monument is the successor to Armstrong’s Cambridge History of Late Greek and Early Medieval Philosophy—8 contributors—and is intended to build on its strengths and correct its deficiencies in the light of some 40 years of highly successful investigation of the thought of late antiquity. The result is a professional structure in which the “giants” (Plotinus and Augustine) are awarded comparatively modest coverage, while figures often neglected, such as Damascius, of whom our understanding has greatly increased of late, are given much more space. Damascius secures 30 pages: the only individual to get more is Porphyry (33), while Augustine has 29 and Plotinus 24 (four more than Hierocles). There are those (as Tacitus might have put it) who will fear that the wood has been lost for the trees, and at least it must be said that one overall impression of these volumes is that some of their authors are recounting what will be of interest to a worldwide group of aficionados whose number can be counted on the fingers of a mutilated hand—and the importance of which lies less in philosophical achievement than in the handing on of a great tradition.

Gilbert Ryle is supposed to have asserted that in France everyone can talk about philosophy but that there are no philosophers; some of Gerson’s more philosophically minded readers may find their prejudices confirmed that in late antiquity there were many who talked about Plato and Aristotle but few who understood what they were trying to do. For it is clear that a general theme of the present volumes is that in late antiquity philosophers were largely concerned to “interpret” Plato and (especially after Porphyry) Aristotle while occasionally seizing the opportunity not merely to rubbish their similarly-engaged predecessors but to add (if shamefacedly) something of their own. Except, that is, for the Christians, whose enterprise was very different and who, quite properly, are more visible in Gerson’s account of late antique thought than in that of Armstrong (though there remain strange omissions in a work on this scale: Methodius, Ambrose, Evagrius).

Gerson has tried to contextualize his story by including short (and helpful) historical introductions by Elizabeth DePalma Digeser to the various epochs with which his volumes are concerned, and which can perhaps be divided into four sections: pre-Plotinian Platonism [End Page 136] (plus extras) from Cicero to Numenius; later pagan Platonism, including extensive treatment of the Neoplatonic commentators on Aristotle; Christian thought before Constantine; and later Christian philosophy-cum-theology. Rounding off the volume are introductions to the transition from “ancient” to “medieval” thought in the Latin West (Gersh), in Byzantium—a remarkably honest presentation of a largely stagnant philosophical world by Ierodiakonou and Zografidis—and (in a magisterial improvement on what is to be found in Armstrong) in Islam (Cristina d’Ancona) where (inter multa alia) the roots of the virtually inevitable later destruction of a flourishing philosophical tradition founded by al-Kindi and al-Farabi are identified in the more “orthodox” and theocratic approach—here there are Byzantine parallels—of the followers of al-Ash’ari (885).

Gerson’s readers can inspect philosophical wisdom and conceptual muddle among late antique intellectuals—Christians, a few Muslims, pagans—down to Scotus Eriugena and al-Farabi. But some of them may suspect that an opportunity has been lost to reflect on the origins and nature of early Christian thought, and to ask why Christians soon jumped for Platonism rather than Stoicism (Aristotle, let alone Epicurus, was not—yet—considered a serious option)—and that is not intended as criticism of the excellent, if brief, treatment of important Christian thinkers such as Origen. But it was an adventure for Christians to begin to philosophize, and when they embarked on this adventure—here the significance...