Llewellyn-Jones’ The Persians is a fantastically engaging and thorough study of Persian history, through Persian sources. He focuses on archaeology, cuneiform tablets, and accounts from the Persians themselves to tell their story, instead of the more traditional sources which are largely Greek and, therefore, very biased against the Persians.
As a Greek myself, having been introduced to the ancient world at at Greek school in London, I first learnt about the Persians through a biased lens. I was taught the Battle of Marathon as an incredible Athenian victory, against all the odds, a defence of democracy to which we owe our freedom today! When I later continued to study the ancient world through GCSE and A-level, I was exposed to Herodotus’ Histories and countless Greek artefacts, namely vases and sculptures, that depict the Persians as effeminate and weak, wearing stripy long-sleeved, skin-tight clothes. It was only at university that a new course on Achaemenid history first made me challenge these ideas that I long took for granted. It was then that I first heard the at the time baffling idea that the Battle of Marathon was likely not important at all for King Darius, who saw it as a minor event on the borders of his vast empire. This blew my mind. Reading Llewellyn-Jones’ book has continued to do this, in the best possible way. And it has made me reflect and challenge my teaching of GCSE Ancient History. I strongly encourage anyone who is studying this period study, who is interested in fifth century history, who has Iranian heritage, or simply wants to broaden their mindset beyond a Western European viewpoint to read this – you won’t be sorry!
How is the book structured?
The book is structured chronologically, which makes it really clear and easy to follow. Llewellyn-Jones starts with an introduction to who the Persians were, the geography of their empire, and the societies that existed and dominated before Cyrus created his Persian Empire. Halfway through Darius’ reign, he stops to look at how the empire was run, which was fascinating. He looked at the political structures used, the postal and road networks that were established, and the role of women in the court. He then returns to the end of Darius’ reign and continues through until Darius III and the victory of Alexander the Great.
The final chapter looks at the impact of Achaemenid history in three moments of Iranian history an culture:
The use made of Achaemenids by their Sasanian successors, the last pre-Islamic dynasty of Iranian kings.
The poetic mythology which grew up around the ancient Persian kings in Iranian epic storytelling.
The use of Achaemenid period in the politics of twentieth-century Iran and the Islamic Revolution which ended its monarchy.
Are any Greek sources referred to?
Of course. Llewellyn-Jones isn’t aiming to ignore the wealth of Greek sources available and he credits their worth and contribution to understanding this time of Ancient History. However, he doesn’t put this at the forefront of his work, or use it as the main bulk of evidence available. He starts with Persian sources and when he does refer to Greek, he points out the bias and discusses the reasons why it is perhaps untrustworthy.
What did you learn that was particularly interesting?
Three things stood out for me:
The names of the kings that we use are not correct!
This changes so much! By depriving the Persians of their own names, we’re both missing out on the huge significance of the meaning of their names, but we’re also starting out by looking at them through a Western perspective. As Llewellyn-Jones says, this ‘is a sad indictment of the corrupting process of Western historiography and the crushing of a genuine Persian cultural distinctiveness.’
Xerxes’ family relations.
While I had always studied Xerxes by looking at his Gate of All Lands at Persepolis and focusing on his Greek campaigns, I had no knowledge of his familial relationships, namely those with his wife and other women of the harem. In Chapter 16, entitled ‘Les Liaisons dangereuses’, we learn about the disastrous love triangle between himself, his wife and queen Amestris, and Artyante. Artyante was his niece, whom he had promised to his son Dariaios, but with whom he had a relationship. I won’t give too much of it away, but the affair had horrific consequences, resulting in someone (I won’t spoil the surprise) having their nose, ears and lips cut off, and tongue torn out.
Roads.
Not as mind-blowing as the revelation that the names were entirely wrong, nor as sordid as Xerxes’ affairs, but nonetheless incredibly important, the book taught me about the roads and way stations the Persians had set up. In an empire that stretches across Egypt to the River Indus, connectivity and accessibility is crucial but daunting, to say the least. The Royal Road, for example, ran a staggering 2,400 kilometres. These were first rate! Roads constructed and excavated at Gordion and Sardis date to Darius’ reign and measure 5-7 metres in width, to give us a sense of how heavily used these were by travellers, horsemen and carriages. What’s truly impressive, and for me thought-provoking, is that way stations were set up at 6kilometre intervals, to provide accommodation for humans and pack animals. Clearly they’d thought of the need to rest and replenish and ensured both were provided for. I love this because it makes us think of the reality of this vast and impressive empire, the real need to rest and eat, and of the many people and animals who relied on these services.
Who should read this?
Anyone studying Persian history as part of Ancient History GSCE, or is learning about fifth century Athens, as so much of Greek history is related to the Achaemenids.