It’s easy enough to forget that the great literary and philosophical works of classical antiquity are available to us only because of the diligence of many individuals and communities across time and space. Without those beautiful, isolated medieval monasteries — in which dedicated monks spent hours each day laboriously copying texts by hand — our knowledge of, and access to, some of the most profound works ever composed would be radically different. The same can be said for those scholars in the Renaissance who ardently sought to revive and preserve Greek learning, particularly after the fall of Constantinople. In our own time, scholars who meticulously study manuscripts play a crucial role in helping all of us to better understand and appreciate ancient texts.
In Imaging the Iliad (2007) viewers witness a kind of apex to all of the above, with the most recent, additional element being that of technology. An impressive bevy of scholars and specialists come together to digitally image every page of the Ventus A — the oldest (complete) surviving copy of the Iliad. While on the surface such a task may not seem overly daunting, the risks and technicalities involved are formidable. But the benefits of carrying out the task, if successful, are tremendous.
Created sometime toward the end of the 10th century, the Venetus A contains not only the full text of the Iliad but copious scholia, summaries, and illustrations. It is, as one classics professor in the film aptly puts it, like “the deluxe DVD version of the Iliad.” Unfortunately, though not surprisingly, it also has the trademarks of its thousand year old age. The manuscript is held in the Biblioteca Marciana, in Venice, where it is rarely ever seen or touched; it’s fragility and irreplaceable value make having it on display out of the question. While some immensely valuable objects from the past can be appreciated in person in the context of museums or exhibitions, this is certainly not one of those.
But one of the principal goals for the team in charge of imaging the manuscript is to allow anyone to view — and closely study, if they so choose — the manuscript. By doing so, not only will scholars have easy access to the manuscript, but so will a general audience that otherwise would never get the chance to examine this priceless artifact. Additionally, by imaging each of its pages in the highest quality possible, the team is also helping to ensure it survival for many years to come. While digital data is not impervious to everything, having Venetus A stored digitally is an important asset.
As we watch the team of scholars and experts assemble in Venice — after years of preparation and planning, we are told — we can readily understand some of the problems they face. Indeed, as just about anyone who has held a library book can attest, even a quality-bound book can fall apart or experience a break in the binding quite easily. This is true especially when a book is held open for long periods of time in the same position. The possible damage to Venetus A in the process of taking methodical imagery of every single leaf is one of the team’s major concerns. Another is the issue of the environment; the effects of room temperature, humidity, and light can hasten the degradation of the material. The team must further contend with a rather ill-suited environment in which to work: a small room on the second floor — which shakes when people cross over on the floor above — of the very old Biblioteca Marciana.
Some of the technical ingenuities employed to overcome these obstacles are quite elaborate. Most visually impressive is the expertly designed robot arm which performs the 3D scanning. On the photography side the technology is also impressive, as the team captures not just exceptionally high-quality images with powerful cameras, but also uses UV light to help see the Venetus A “as it was centuries ago.” This means that faded text can once again be seen — and the results of this process are revealing and magnificent. Case in point is a word found in the margins, from book 24, which helps illuminate a word (and a scene) in the main text. It’s discoveries like these which make the members of the team especially excited, and understandably so. It’s not everyday that one gets to intimately work with a 10th-century manuscript, let alone a manuscript of one of the most important works of Western literature.
Appropriately enough, the film takes time out from its coverage of the team working on the manuscript to include some information about the creation and evolution of the Iliad and the Odyssey. These two epics of Greek antiquity — though commonly ascribed to one person, Homer — were by no means necessarily composed by a singular individual. The evolution of the stories told in them, as Gregory Nagy notes, took place over a millennium, and they changed as different bards performed them. Eventually, after a long life as oral poems, they were put into their written form. This much we know; but many other details about these two great works and their composition elude us — and perhaps always will.
But as the scholars and specialists themselves learn during the course of working with the Venetus A, there is so much to gain from studying and exploring this manuscript of the Iliad (and others like it). Though the Iliad is some 3,000 years old, our knowledge of it is always changing and developing. And with the aid of technology, this is all the more true.
One of the best parts of watching this film is seeing the interaction between technology and the humanities (two fields which have not always gone hand in hand, at least not in the way that technology pervades certain other fields). But the merging of these two areas, when done appropriately, can yield highly beneficial results — for scholars and general public alike. As several of the specialists point out, the project of digitizing the Venetus A is fruitful in multiple ways. It of course preserves this rare artifact in a digital format, but it also makes possible a joint intellectual adventure as virtually anyone can now access the manuscript. It is a pleasing thought to consider that not only has the Iliad survived after all these millennia, but that everyone (not just a few) can partake of what it has to offer. Mary Ebbott in the film, speaking about the benefit of technology and the ethos of the Renaissance, says that “A digital environment gives us a new path for discovery, and that really is what the Renaissance is all about.” Fortunately, technology can enable almost anyone to venture on this path, which is ideally how it should be: as many people as possible discovering, enjoying, and interacting with the greatest texts ever composed.
The Ventus A project, and this film, were done in 2007. Anyone can now experience for themselves the beautiful and one of a kind Ventus A manuscript.
Spectatio 