We do not glean very much about society or life in general in towns and
settlements outside the capital from surviving literature, that is, from writings
in Greek composed for more than ephemeral purposes.No term in use
among the Byzantines corresponds precisely with our ‘literature’ and what
they wrote has been termed a ‘distorting mirror’, designed to reflect other
than reality.21 Works recounting the deeds and reigns of emperors could
amount to extended narratives, purporting to be ‘Histories’ while retaining
strong rhetorical traits, for example the Life of Basil (see below, pp. 292,
294). Such works tended to emanate from court circles, whereas chronicles,
less polished presentations of events, often from a religious angle, were less
committed to an establishment viewpoint, and were much read (see below,
pp. 82, 103).
The Byzantines’ writings vary greatly in intricacy of style and in the
kind of Greek they use, and fashions and preoccupations changed over
time. Rhetorical and grand historical works were written in classical –
‘Attic’ – Greek, for reading or declaiming primarily among members of
the metropolitan elite. Thanks to private secondary schooling, the handful
of senior officeholders, churchmen and scholars were at home with an
all but dead language far removed from the everyday Greek spoken in the
countryside or even in the capital’s streets.22 Authors writing in these circles
presupposed familiarity with the antique world23 but could cross-cut to
figures or themes from the Scriptures or to sayings from the church fathers.
The collections made of these sayings, like the full-length chronicles, some
sermons and many saints’ Lives, tended to be written in plainer Greek,24
more akin to the spoken word.
This sprawling, still partly unpublished, body of literary materials is
not easy to categorise, and perhaps the most authoritative general history
of Byzantine literature remains that of Karl Krumbacher.25 Nonetheless,
several histories of branches of Byzantine literature are available, as are histories
of particular periods,26 and the later twentieth and early twenty-first
centuries saw studies on the subject burgeoning. Some are wide-ranging survey
projects, or introductions,27 while others examine Byzantine rhetoric,
poetry and letter-writing,28 besides more technical issues such as palaeography,
epigraphy and the nature and uses of Byzantine books (codices)
and libraries.29 Byzantine literature and texts written in Byzantine Greek
are more approachable by students, now that the classical Greek–English
Lexicon of Liddell and Scott is reinforced by such works as the Lexikon zur
byzantinischen Gr¨azit¨at.30
It is becoming clear that poems such as the tale of the border-lord
Digenis Akritis (in its surviving versions) are the product of complex interplay
between litt´erateurs in the capital and the composers of stories and
ballads and reciters of songs at popular level.31 Some acquaintance with
letters might be expected at village level, and while the priest was likeliest
to be capable of functional literacy, laypersons could have reading skills, or
access to social superiors possessing them, for example through confraternities.
32 It was perhaps partly via confraternities or comparable groups that
texts in everyday Greek recounting visits to the next world and visions of
the wicked receiving punishment circulated. It is quite possible that they
were countenanced by churchmen, venting grievances about the workings
of church and secular administration, yet counteracting dissidents overtly
opposed to the imperial order.33 Such a cellular structure of orthodoxy has
to be deduced, and is not directly attested in our sources, yet it probably
constitutes an important strand in the fabric of Byzantine society. Such
hidden strengths of the empire are what Byzantine literature in its broadest
sense can intimate.