Thousand-Year-Old Texts, Brand New Discoveries

For his dissertation, history PhD candidate Alex Magnolia is studying the correspondence of key historical figure Patriarch Nicholas Mystikos. Supported by the Theofanis G. Stavrou Eastern Orthodox History & Culture Fellowship, Magnolia traveled to Greece for firsthand archive research. This in-person investigation resulted in new discoveries and conclusions.

What did your research look like? What methods did you use?

My research in Greece was conducted in a medieval monastery's archives on the island of Patmos. Given my training as a historian, I first learned of the archive from a printed volume of letters that form the source material for my dissertation. My project examines the 200-letter collection of Patriarch Nicholas Mystikos, the leader of the orthodox faith from 901 to 907 and 912 to 925. Reading his letters in their original tenth-century manuscript format enabled me not only to use my skills in Medieval Greek language and paleography, but also allowed me to draw new conclusions from the material that would not have been possible by simply reading the printed letters.

Did you learn anything unexpected?

I arrived at the Monastery of St. John the Theologian on May 8, which is the feast day for the institution's patron saint. I was surprised to find the entire town of Chora packed into the monastery and had the unparalleled opportunity to observe a special two-hour liturgy before being allowed into the archive. When reading the manuscript, I discovered several marginalia as well as notes written to accompany the original medieval text, which I am now in the process of translating and interpreting.

Additionally, I learned that the manuscript contains one drawing, which I will be including as part of my dissertation research. These kinds of experiences and conclusions would simply not have been possible by only engaging with a printed version of the letters that I study. Moreover, the material elements of the manuscript also presented new fodder for analysis, such as analyzing the kind and quality of parchment that formed the manuscript. What might it mean, for example, that this thousand-year-old document was preserved not on the highest quality vellum sheets, but middling-quality parchment? The document showed signs of repair as well, with medieval or later scribes sewing up damaged areas and lacunae of the parchment. I also had the opportunity to view a 12th-century paper manuscript which contains other letters of my subject; this document, by contrast, was in poor condition, leading me to other conclusions.

What did your fellowship allow you to do that might not otherwise have been possible?

I received research funding from the Stavrou Fellowship of the history department. Traveling for research is extremely expensive, so I certainly would not have been able to travel to Greece without support from the Stavrou Fellowship. While I could have asked the monastery to scan the folios of the manuscript I needed, this also would have incurred significant cost (one has to pay for the images of each folio), and I would not have been able to experience the document in the same way.

What were the biggest takeaways from this project?

One of my key takeaways from the project was learning that the manuscript was copied or created in the late 10th century with a degree of organization and structure in mind; the medieval scribes who worked on the text included several crucial notes attesting to the ways in which they organized the letters. This insight is highly revealing for how Byzantine people thought about preserving and organizing knowledge. After I conclude my translation and interpretation of the marginalia, I also hope to be able to shed further light on how this manuscript or these letters were received by the people who, perhaps centuries later, doodled and jotted in the margins. 

This story was edited by Max Pritchard, an undergraduate student in CLA.