Vilimonovic - Structure and Features of Anna Komnene's Alexiad

Structure and Features of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad
Central European Medieval Studies
The series focuses on the geographical centre of the European continent, but also
a region representing various historically changing meanings and concepts. It
challenges simplistic notions of Central Europe as a periphery to the medieval
‘West’, or, equally, a border between barbarity and civilization; an area of a
lively convergence of different ethnic groups, and a socially and culturally
framed common space; a point where different ‘Others’ met, or an intermediary
‘bridge’ between the Roman Catholicism and Latinity of the West, and the Slavic
Orthodoxy and Hellenism of the Byzantine East.
Editorial Board
Dr. Kateřina Horníčková, University of South Bohemia
Dr. Cosmin Popa-Gorjanu, 1 December 1918 University Alba Iulia
Dr. Zsolt Hunyadi, University of Szeged
Dr. Anna Adamska, Utrecht University
Dr. Trpimir Vedriš, University of Zagreb
Dr. Nada Zečević, University of Eastern Sarajevo
Structure and Features of Anna
Komnene’s Alexiad
Emergence of a Personal History
Larisa Orlov Vilimonović
Amsterdam University Press

Cover illustration: Greek amphora with Athena, Ajax and Odysseus pictured
Source: The British Museum (London_BM_1843.1103: Athena, Ajax and Odysseus), by
courtesy of professor Danijela Stefanovic from her private collection.
Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden

Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout
isbn 978 94 6298 038 9

e-isbn 978 90 4852 964 3 (pdf)
doi 10.5117/9789462980389
nur 684
© Larisa Orlov Vilimonović / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2019
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of
this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted,
in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise)
without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book.
Blame Homer,
Because of the hidden depths of his ideas
− Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 379 (645.648)
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments 9
Preface 13
Introduction: Behind the narrative poetics of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad 15
1 Technē historikē 25
Discursive frame of the Alexiad 45
Political debate: Anna Komnene and John Zonaras 63
2 Image of the Ideal Ruler 71

Refuting the invective 75
Shaping the new Iliad 81
In search of a paradigm – between a legendary hero and a legend-
ary emperor 103
3 Anna Komnene’s Periautologia 121

Preponderance of the Origin 124
The story of the Imperial Birth – essence of Anna’s political agenda129
Sprout from the Porphyra 129
Likeness to her father 130
Connection to the imperial branch of the Doukai 134
Connection with the parents 137
4 The Pain of Niobe and Cry of Electra 143

Anna’s Iliad of woes 144
Beloved husband 150
Setting of the Sun 153
Allegories of the emperor’s illness 154
5 Doukai – Construction of an Alternative Political Discourse 163

The rise of the Komnenoi and the problem of apostasia 166
The Doukai in the Alexiad 174
Dramatis Personae 177
Caesar John Doukas 177
George Palaiologos 194
John and Michael Doukas 203
Constantine Doukas 211
Maria of Alania 227
Eirene Doukaina 241
6 Komnenian Philia 269

Mother of the Komnenoi 271
How a hero is made 271
Where two Annas meet 281
Doulos and Despotes 285
A story without an ending 288
Orestes and Pylades 290
Isaac Komnenos – ἀπόρφυρον βασιλέα 290
The abstruse story of Adrian Komnenos 298
Conspiracy of John Komnenos 303
A thrice-beloved son 307
Timeframe of the Alexiad 307
Behind Anna’s psogos 314
John in the episode of the birth of the Porphyrogennetoi 319
The Birth of the Emperor’s Twins 329
In search of a lost hero 333
Conclusion 339
Bibliography 343
Index 353
Acknowledgments
This book presents the conclusion of a seven-year project, which started

with my PhD programme. Without constant and generous support of my
mentor, friend and colleague, Professor Vlada Stanković, and participation
on his project Christian Culture on the Balkans in the Middle Ages: Byzantine
Empire, the Serbs and the Bulgarians from 9th to 15th centuries, it would have
been impossible to finish this undertaking. I am deeply thankful to Vlada
Stanković for all my interest and ideas regarding the Komnenian epoch,
which were firstly introduced to us, young students, in the second year of
our undergraduate studies. Ever since then, he has been appreciative and
supportive of my advancement in this particular field. With his help, I have
chosen the theme of my academic interest, and with his encouragement, I
have continued my work on Anna Komnene’s Alexiad after the PhD defence.
When I decided to submit a book proposal on Anna Komnene’s Alexiad
to the Amsterdam University press, I had full support from the members of
my department, and all the necessary funds at my disposal to participate
in the several conferences that greatly contributed to my book. Especially
important were the conferences in Upsalla (Sweden) and in Munich (Ger-
many) hosted by Ingela Nilsson, to whom I am very grateful for her precious
and valuable comments on my papers and drafts, and her general support
for the young academics. In addition, I am greatly indebted to Anthony
Kaldellis who always found time to go through my papers, giving me a plenty
of insightful comments and remarks, and for his support while working on
the final version of the manuscript. I owe a debt of gratitude to professor
Dimitris Krallis, who was supportive throughout the final phase of my work
and who kindly accepted to read parts of my final draft.
As a young member of the department of history, Faculty of Philosophy, I
had immense support of the senior professors from my department. Firstly,
the head of the Seminar for Byzantine Studies, Professor Radivoj Radić,
was always supportive and ready to help me with his vast and thorough
knowledge of numerous aspects of Byzantine history, and I am heartily
grateful to him. I have always had immense respect and admiration for
professor Radić’s zealous research and the unwearying passion for Byzantine
history, which were highly inspiring for my own research. Also, I had support
and huge help from my colleagues from the PhD programme, Milena Repajić
and Dragoljub Marijanović. Our long and inquisitive talks were always a
leap into some new dimension of Byzantine history and the methodology
of research. Especially the talks I had with Milena Repajić, who successfully
10 STRUC TURE AND FEATURES OF ANNA KOMNENE’S ALEXIAD
concluded her PhD project on Michael Psellos’ Chronographia, helped me

immensely in my understanding of the possible correlation between the
two writers.
Professor of medieval environmental history, Jelena Mrgić, as a friend
and senior colleague, was also ready to comment and give valuable scholarly
advices, and I am very thankful for her understanding of young academics
and unconditional support.
In addition, I would like to thank professor of Ancient Studies and head
of our department, Danijela Stefanović, for all the logistical support she had
shown, and for her appreciation and support of young woman scholars. Her
outstanding scholarly outreach in international circles has always been a
stimulus for me to continue. She was also very kind to provide a cover photo
for my book from her private collection.
Without my first teacher of Greek and now a very good friend from the
Classical department, Assistant professor Il Akkad, I would not ever be able
to plunge into such a demanding Greek composition such as the Alexiad.
From my first steps in learning ancient Greek to the completion of this book,
he was always ready to comment, give advice and help me in untangling
the complicated structures of the Greek Language.
When it comes to friendship and ancient Greek, I would not be able to
conclude without mentioning my friend Aleksandar Jovanović, Teaching
Assistant at Simon Fraser University, Vancouver, Canada, who was all these
years my constant encouragement, and mental and emotional buttress.
The list of the people who have helped me all these years is long and goes
far beyond academic circles and there is not enough space to do justice to
all of them here. Nevertheless, one of the people I am mostly indebted is my
best friend Nataša Stanković, who has always checked my English and whose
knowledge and advice helped immensely in my progress with English. Apart
from that, she was my crucial support in the moments when I felt exhausted
from writing in a foreign language and I am especially grateful for that.
To conclude, all the professional support I had would not be enough
had not there been the constant crucial support from my family. My late
mother, Vesna Popivoda, remains in my memory as the strongest and most
outstanding woman I have ever known, and so many times in her life she
reminded me of the astonishing female members of the Komnenian house.
Her support for my work was immeasurable, and especially her incessant
encouragement and help, which she provided me in coping with both
career and motherhood. With my mother’s support, the hardest years of
my academic life and my motherhood were easy and fulfilling. She was a
modern woman and my role model who understood my needs to be fulfilled
Acknowledgments 11
in both career and motherhood. And last, but not least at all, my greatest
and deepest gratitude goes to my family, to my broad-minded and forbearing
husband Veljko Vilimonović, a wonderful father to our incredible sons,
Vuk, Constantine and Athanasius Noah. My husband and my children are
my constant source of energy, strength and inspiration. With all my love
and admiration, I dedicate this book to my family, with a wish that their
dreams be fulfilled.
Preface
For the English quotations of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad I have used Sewter’s
translation, since I did not want to mix all three translations (Dawes’, Sew-
ter’s and Frankopan’s). Where I thought that a more literal translation was
needed, I have made my additions in parentheses. For the transliteration of
the names and places, I have chosen to stick to the Greek version, where I
needed also to alter all the names of Sewter’s translation, who uses Latinized
version of names. For some names that are already widely accepted I have
used those versions, and not the Greek version, such as Constantine and
not Konstantinos, George and not Georgios, John and not Ioannes.
With regard to the other sources that are used, I have either used some
available English translations, or I have provided my own translations, for
which I take full responsibility.
Readers will notice the repetition of several passages from the Alexiad,
but that was due to the necessity to analyse some of the most important
literary aspects of Anna’s work, from various angles. Also, I felt a need to
highlight some words, phrases or sentences, which I consider to be crucial
for the argument.
Introduction: Behind the narrative
poetics of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad
The Alexiad of Anna Komnene is a masterpiece of Byzantine historiography,

which the first Komnenian princess wrote over the course of almost twenty
years in the middle of the twelfth century (ca. 1138-ca. 1153).1 Its central nar-
rative theme presents a history of the reign of Alexios I Komnenos (1081-1118),
the founder of the Komnenian dynasty. In its stylistic features, the Alexiad
belongs to the literary vogue set half a century before by the writings of
Michael Psellos.2 However, the structure, stylistic register, and rhetorical
virtuosity of Anna’s narrative position her literary endeavour within the
rich and blooming Hellenism of the Komnenian epoch, that engendered
new modes of literary expression by reviving and adapting long forgotten
ones and adding new flavours to the composite blend of twelfth-century
culture.3 Komnenian culture was marked by a resurgent interest in rhetoric
and Homer, and we see an increasing production of rhetorical treatises by
court intellectuals, an interest in theory and grammar, in profane, worldly
matters, in irony, criticism, and ridicule. 4 Trajectories of cultural trends
in the Komnenian epoch were a direct consequence of the fundamental
political changes that occurred in Byzantine society with the ascent of the
Komnenian dynasty. The profound changes that affected the social structure
and political constitution of the Byzantine Empire starting with the ascent
of Alexios, were visible in the next two generations of Komnenian rulers,
and inevitably left some powerful families dissatisfied with the sudden
eclipse of their influence.5 In an epoch of such profound and substantial
transformations, literature was both a leading medium for the expression
of political tensions and a means by which the dominant political discourse
1 The composition of the Alexiad was a process that lasted more than ten years. It is widely
accepted that Anna set out to write her history after her husband’s death, which is a thesis that
derives from her own testimony in the Prologue. This dating is coupled with the dating of John
II’s Syrian campaign, which was conducted in 1138. On the other hand, conventional wisdom has
it that Anna wrote until her death, for which J. Darouzzes proposed between 1153. or 1155., the
years in which George Tornikes, her eulogist was hypomnēmatographos – See Tornikes, Éloge,
p. 220, n.1, and Browning, 1990, p. 397.
2 On the close connection between this two works, and the literary trends of the Komnenian
epoch in general see Kaldellis, 2008, p. 225-228; Papaioannou, 2013, p. 253-259.
3 Kaldellis, 2008, p. 225-317.
4 Ibid; Magdalino, 1993, p. 355 et sq.
5 Magdalino, 1993, p. 185-187.
was perpetuated. In this changed environment, the first-born daughter

of the emperor Alexios set out to compose the story of his martial deeds.
Since the first English translation of the Alexiad by Elizabeth Dawes in
1928, and the following first scholarly monograph on the Alexiad of Anna
Komnene by Georgina Buckler in 1929, academic interest in the study of
this work remained steady. Anna Komnene’s history was always deemed
exotic and controversial, due to the gender of its author, the alternative
history of the First Crusade that it offers, and to the place and role that Anna
Komnene herself occupied within the Komnenian family. Firstly, the Alexiad
is considered a highly valuable source for the reconstruction of Alexios’ reign,
being the only sustained narrative dedicated solely to this emperor’s rule.
Thus, the Alexiad was an inexhaustible source for both Byzantinists and
medievalists in their pursuit of a better understanding of the First Crusade.
Secondly, the Alexiad is immensely valuable as a source that comes from the
pen of Alexios’ first and oldest offspring, providing us with information about
the family structure and power relations within the composite Komnenian
oikos at the onset of their rule. It is a rich narrative landscape of Komnenian
warfare, internal and international politics, diplomacy, Byzantine-Norman
wars, church politics, the Byzantine aristocratic mindset and much more.
Thirdly, if we move to the field of linguistics, the Alexiad opens a door for
scholars of language, style, structures, rhetorical figures and narrative
tropes. One of the first Byzantinists to focus specifically on literariness of
the Alexiad was Jakov Ljubarskij who also, not coincidentally, continued
his studies in Byzantine literature on the work of Michael Psellos and his
Chronographia. Some of the themes recurrent in the field of Byzantine
literature that Ljubarskij opened for discussion with regard to these two
histories were mimesis, authorial intrusions in text, subjective and personal
narration, building of the narrative, dramatis personae, context, dialectic
approach to characters, sculptural style, portrayal of characters, moral
qualities and psychology.6
Anna’s history, by this point, has been subjected to case-studies which
have shown that the Alexiad speaks through the cultural logic and political
context of the mid-twelfth century, and that its subtext is permeated with
veiled criticism of the emperor Manuel I Komnenos (1143-1180), her nephew.7
Nevertheless, Anna’s criticism of Manuel also contains some blatant accusa-
tions against his father, Emperor John II Komnenos (1118-1143). As Reinsch has
6 Ljubarskij, 1965; Ljubarskij, 1976; Ljubarskij, 1978; Ljubarskij, 1992; Ljubarskij, 1993; and esp.
Ljubarskij, 2000.
7 Thomas, 1991, p. 269-312; Magdalino, 2000, 15-45; Stephenson, 2003, 41-54.
INTRODUC TION: BEHIND THE NARR ATIVE POE TICS OF ANNA KOMNENE’S ALEXIAD 17
shown, the manuscripts of the Alexiad have undergone major interventions

because of their politically sensitive semantic value. As opposed to open
accusations, Anna’s silences were also considered an idiosyncrasy of her
literary style, used to discredit political opponents.8
Anna’s writing has also been examined in relation to her husband’s his-
tory, Nikephoros Brynneios and his Material for History, which was an issue
triggered by James Howard-Johnston in his long article on the questionable
authorship of Anna’s Alexiad. Howard-Johnston’s assumption that Anna
acted as an editor of Bryennios text, by putting in order the material her
husband had already provided, was convincingly rebutted in the articles
by Ruth Macrides and Dieter Reinsch. In addition, other papers from the
same volume dedicated to the life and work of Anna Komnene all show the
originality of Anna’s text, revealing specific authorial practices that could
have resulted only from Anna’s pen.9 However, the investigation of the
peculiar relationship between the spouses’ histories did not come to its end
in this volume. Vlada Stanković made a significant breakthrough in several
of his articles in which he dealt with important literary aspects of both
Bryennios’ and Anna’s histories.10 Stanković attributed the discrepancies
between spouses’ histories in their presentations of events and characters
to the different political perspectives of the two authors and the contrasting
final aims of their histories.11
Leonora Neville has also offered a somewhat different picture of the
mutual relationship between the spouses’ histories, arguing that, to a certain
extent, the Alexiad could be interpreted as an answer and corrective action
to Bryennios’ history, mainly in those parts that concern the characterization
of the emperor Alexios I Komnenos.12 Neville offered an insightful approach
toward both histories, delineating them as histories that perpetuated a
different cultural logic in presenting the leading character.
The question which arises at the very beginning of this book, is why we
need a third study of the Alexiad in the span of only four years (Buckley,
2014; Neville, 2016). In fact, the appearance of these monographs provided
a strong stimulus to continue, since the approach I have chosen to apply in
my reading of the Alexiad has not been exhausted yet. Penelope Buckley’s
interpretation of the Alexiad was the first of the two recent studies to be
8 see Leib 1958; Stanković, 2006.

9 Gouma-Peterson (ed.), 2000.
10 Stanković, 2007; Stanković, 2010; Stanković, 2011.
11 Stanković, 2007, passim.
12 Neville, 2012, p. 182-193.
published, and it gives us a grandiloquent reader’s experience of the Alexiad

that mostly concentrates on purely literary aspects of Komnene’s history and
on the artistic impression that Anna’s work leaves on its audience. Buckley
does not, however, address the reasons why Anna constructed her narrative
in such a way and why her characters were presented in that particular
fashion from the perspective of the historical context of that period. Buckley
does not speculate on the rationale behind the Alexiad, and in that sense
I offer a different reading of Komnene’s work, focusing on the motivation
behind Anna’s literary endeavour and the political agenda of her history.
Leonora Neville, who was particularly active in recent years on the topic of
Anna’s gender discourse and her position as a woman writer in the masculine
world of Byzantine historiography, published another industrious study of
the Alexiad in 2016. Neville has opened her inquiry about the Alexiad in her
book on Bryennios’ Material for History, which was a starting point for an
argument further expanded in several articles and finally scrutinized in a
single monograph. Neville’s approach has been distinctive for its focus on the
gendered aspects of Anna Komnene’s history, and for her doubts that Anna
participated in the conspiracy against John II Komnenos. Thus, she set out
to mitigate Anna’s unjustified portrayal in modern scholarship as a ‘power-
hungry conspirator’, inspecting that appraisal of Komnene as an outcome
of a scholarly gender bias, starting with Edward Gibbon and repeated ever
since.13 Gender aspects of the Alexiad should never be disregarded, and I
find Neville’s approach precious for the vindication of the uniqueness of the
Alexiad in that respect. However, I have doubts about Neville’s assessment
of Anna’s political activity and disavowal of Anna’s negative disposition
toward her brother John II. Neville has proposed to overturn Anna’s alleged
conspiracy against her brother John II in the light of the new reading of
the histories of both Zonaras and Choniates, with a different appraisal of
their gendered discourse. However, in this analysis, I would take issue with
the selection of the material from the Alexiad presented in the study, and
with the conclusions drawn about Anna Komnene’s silences.14 Conversely,
Anna’s omissions make a case for her argumentum ex silencio, which will
be discussed at length in the present study.
13 For the most recent discussion about the gendered bias of the modern scholarship see
Neville, 2016, p. 170-171.
14 Neville, 2016, p. 141-142; It is already clear that Anna’s silences were intentional, and that in
her case, as Stathakopoulos observed correctly ‘the pen was mightier than the sword’, through
condemnation of him to ‘deafening and awkward silence’ – Stathakopoulos, 2016, p. 1.
Even though Neville contends that the primary source for Anna’s con-
spiracy and hostility toward her brother is the highly problematic history of
Niketas Choniates, I will argue that it is precisely the Alexiad, which furnishes
the information in support of Anna’s political ambition, and her negative
disposition toward her brother. I will read the Alexiad against the historical
events of the fourth and fifth decades of the twelfth century, which were the
two most turbulent decades for the Komnenian dynasty, a period in which
John II Komnenos was determined to bring to fulfilment the idea about the
hereditary throne that solely benefited his direct male descendants.15 Some
might argue that such political concept had always been present in Byzantine
political thought and that it was already perpetuated by the members of the
Macedonian dynasty. However, such a detailed program as was envisaged
by Alexios I to keep the throne solely in the hands of his direct descendants
had become, in the time of John II, part of imperial politics and propaganda
promulgated through both discursive media and visual culture.16 We have
all been lulled by the uniform picture of the omnipotent Komnenian oikos,
which had established a composite family rule, discarding the complexity
of power relations among the aristocratic houses of the late 11th century.17
While Paul Magdalino dwelled on this particular subject in his pathbreaking
study on Manuel I Komnenos, his estimates of the aristocratic tensions
inside and outside the Komnenian oikos have not been pursued afterwards
by scholars. The especially problematic relations between the Komnenoi
and the Doukai have only been subjected to thorough analysis in a study
by Vlada Stanković about the evolution of the Komnenian oikos, that was,
and still is, unfortunately, unapproachable to non-Slavic readership.18 As
was clearly outlined by Magdalino and further substantiated in Stanković’s
study, through analysis of the ample discursive material of the Komnenian
epoch, the Komnenoi and the Doukai seem to have been at odds for the
greatest period of their joint family life.19 Although many aristocratic houses
15 This approach has been applied in the volume of collected essays Anna Comnene and her
Times, and also in the study of the Komnenian family by Stanković, 2006.
16 Stanković, 2006.
17 See Kazhdan-Epstein 1985, p. 56-120; Cheynet, 1990; Magdalino, 1993.
18 Stanković, 2006.
19 Stanković proposed arguably that Eirene Doukaina had formed a secluded circle inside the
Komnenian oikos, and that her intentions were to preserve the imperial legacy of the Doukai.
Stanković actually built on Magdalino’s correct estimate of the power relations between these
two aristocratic houses, and very similar political thread was observed by Neville in her study of
Bryennios’ history where she stated that he gives us the ‘politically apologetic portrayal of Caesar
John’, which was a part of the general positive presentation of the members of the Doukai family
in Bryennios’ history: Neville, 2012, p. 50-53. And even more important is Neville’s hypothesis
were absorbed into the Komnenian family structure, there were also those,
such as the Doukai, Gabrades, and Taronites that did not acquiesce to the
ambitious family program of the Komnenian dynasty.20 I push this thesis
further in my analysis of the Alexiad, taking as a starting premise the idea
that the Alexiad was a history that emerged from the side of the Doukai and
engendered an alternative political discourse in which the Doukai were the
rightful holders of the imperial legacy. In that alternative discourse, Anna
was considered an heir-apparent.
After the publication of the Byzantine Republic by Anthony Kaldellis, a
theory about Byzantine Roman identity has again come to the fore in our
understanding of Byzantine social relations and the political implications of
the imperial rule.21 The craving for the reestablishment of the ancient Roman
political values was recognized in the world chronicle of John Zonaras who
criticized Alexios for appropriating the empire for himself, acting as despotes
instead of oikonomos, and cancelling the res publica through promulgation
of the empire as the res privata of his family.22 Although Zonaras’ voice was
probably the voice of the senate, it definitely records a strong reaction to
a sudden change that took place in the constitution with the ascent of the
Komnenian dynasty.23 The imperial throne was never considered a vested
hereditary right, and it could not been claimed as property of one family,
although there were numerable challenges to this ‘constitutional clause’
throughout Byzantine millennial history.24 In that sense, Anna voiced
the view of a powerful aristocratic family, that of her mother, that was at
loggerheads with the political logic of Alexios’ appropriation of the throne
solely for his male successors.25 Zonaras’ republican ideas were expedient
for Anna’s political philosophy – the most meritorious individual should
on the existence of a history written by caesar John Doukas, a ‘pro-Doukas text’ from which
Bryennios had extracted important sections for his narrative in order ‘to make John Doukas look
good’: Neville, 2012, p. 49-59; and also Neville, 2008. These all amounted to the political discourse
of the secluded circle around Eirene Doukaina that was highly biased in favour of the Doukai.
20 Magdalino, 1993, p. 181 et sq.
21 Kaldellis, 2015; for the earlier discussion about Byzantine Roman identity see Beck, 1978.
22 For the discussion see Magdalino, 1983.
23 See Magdalino, 1983.
24 Although Byzantium never had a written constitution as such, nevertheless, Hans Georg
Beck discussed precisely the topic of the Byzantine constitution with regard to its republican
traditions. See Beck, 1978.
25 According to Magdalino, ‘Anna exaggerated the Doukai’s family contribution’ – Magdalino,
1993, p. 202 – which could have been understood clearly in terms of Eirene Doukaina’s policy
who put the interests of the family into which she was born before those of the family in which
she was married: Magdalino, 1993, p. 201.
be granted the imperial scepter. Behind that she actually vouched for the
supremacy of the other imperial oikos, that of her mother. In doing so, Anna
had to also provide an answer to Zonaras’ history. This accounts for those
parts where her narrative is at odds with Zonaras’ argument, specifically
in the image she constructs and the role she attributes to Alexios’ women,
Anna Dalassene and Eirene Doukaina.
My exposition so far has weaved together some of the most important
tenets of the analysis that will be conducted in the course of this book.
Nevertheless, I must do justice to the title of my book and present the
rationale behind such choices. Structure and features of the Alexiad mainly
refer to the ancient concept of the rules of poetics, which will be in the focus
of my research. With regard to this, we must go back to Aristotle and the
exordium of his Poetics:
Let us here deal with Poetry, its essence and its several species, with the
characteristic function of each species and the way in which plots must
be constructed if the poem is to be a success; and also with the number
and character of the constituent parts of a poem, and similarly with all
other matters proper to this same inquiry; and let us, as nature directs,
begin first with first principles.26
While thinking about the generic structure of the Alexiad, I was unable
to discern where the tragedy and epic give way to history and where the
rules of rhetoric yield to the rules of history. It occured to me that these
generic fluctuations were necessary for Anna Komnene to tell a particular
story. Some ends could have been attained only through carefuly chosen
genres – epic poetry and tragedy were ‘metrical representations of heroic
action’27 and the tragedy was ‘a representation of an action that is whole
and complete and of a certain magnitude, since a thing may be a whole and
yet have no magnitude.’28 Epic differed from tragedy only ‘in the length of
composition and in metre’, and was more advantageous than tragedy since
‘several parts can be portrayed as being enacted at the same time’, which
added to its richness and variety.29
My aim is to discuss in which way Anna presented her ‘poem in prose’
so that it would ‘be a success’. Tragedy and epic poetry were essentially
26 Aristotle, Poetics, 1447a.

27 Aristotle, Poetics, 1449b.
arts of ‘representing life in action’, two principle genres that aroused fear
and pity in spectators.30 On the other hand, evocation of pathos among the
audience was at the core of the art of persuasion. Furthermore, rhetoric was
a cornerstone of any literary endeavour since it thought basic elements of
the discourse structure.
To understand the poetic background of the Alexiad, I need to tackle the
issue of the Byzantine art of historical writing, which is the main topic of
the first chapter. With an inevitable recourse to Graeco-Roman historical,
philosophical and rhetorical tradition, I aim to underpin crucial concepts
of this evasive topic, and balance them with Anna’s reflections on the art
of history, its rules, its nature and its laws. Anna’s perception of history, the
ideas that lie beneath her theoretical deliberations present the main aspect
of my interest before plunging into deeper analysis of the plot, structure
and characters of the Alexiad. The inquiry about the idiosyncratic style of
Anna’s Alexiad will be squared with Michael Psellos’ observations on the
proper literary style and his genuine concept of history since Psellos was
arguably the most influential literary role model for Anna Komnene. His
intellectual legacy provided Anna with a stimulating textual and stylistic
landscape for embedding a personal political agenda into the narrative of
the allegedly objective historical truth. Finally, the first chapter concludes
with the thesis that Komnene’s Alexiad was part of the ongoing political
debate, in which she was making huge amends to the family of her mother,
and in some places was directly confronting Zonaras’ story.
An in-depth study of the Alexiad inevitably calls for an analysis of the
leading character of the history, Alexios I, and of the leading narrative, the
Byzantine-Norman war. These are the starting points for understanding
the author’s reasons and motives for constructing a highly idiosyncratic
narrative. This analytical trajectory should also lead to the assessment of
what could have been the possible impact of this kind of narrative presenta-
tion on the audience. As it has already been stressed, Anna was indeed
creating an image of the ideal ruler, by crafting a composite patchwork
of the Odyssean warrior and Eusebian ruler.31 I intend to show how Anna
crafted an image of her ruler through the rules of the imperial enkomion,
and how she answered some of the allegations against Alexios I, mainly by
John the Oxite who wrote an overt critique of the emperor and his family

31 For the Constantinian image of Alexios, see Buckley, 2014, 261-263; and for the Odyssean
like character see Macrides, 2000, p. 68-69; Neville, 2012, p. 189-90; Buckley, 2014, p. 143; Neville,
2016, p. 147.
rule. In another section, which I have dedicated to the analysis of Alexios’

war with the Normans, I have chosen to discuss its Homeric background.
The reason for this was to assess why such particular imagery was employed
by the authoress, in what manner, and what could have been the impact
of the Homeric imagery regarding the perception of the Alexiad in the 12th
century Constantinople. For although, as Aristotle exclaims, Homer deserves
praise for many things, he had also ‘taught the others the proper way of
telling lies, that is, by using a fallacy’, and he ‘conceals the absurdity by
the charm of all his other merits.’32 The idea of Homer as a versatile rhetor
and skilful stylistic trickster was not coincidentally embedded in Tzetzes
exegesis of the Iliad. The 12th century was the epoch of profound interest
in both Aristotle and Homer, and Anna intricately culled both to achieve
her literary success.
The third large section of the book focuses on Anna’s self-presentation and
gives us a glimpse into various authorial practices that she used for purposes
of positioning herself both within and against the Komnenian oikos. Anna’s
lament and the staged tragedy will be analysed with reference both to the
authorial practice of delivering an inoffensive self-praise under the guise
of ill fortune and to the rhetorical practice of arousing the emotions of the
audience for attaining unanimous consent.
The last two large sections will be dedicated to Anna’s portrayals of the
leading protagonists of her life story. I have, therefore, intentionally divided
them into two family groups, those of the Doukai and the Komnenoi. My
intention here was to show how Anna distorted some events, changed
focus, or gave agency to specific members of these groups that were person-
ally important for her political ambition. Through an analysis of Anna’s
characterisation and presentation of events, the turn of plot, or the applied
imagery I have tried to present the multitude of possibilities that Byzantine
authors used to embedd political messages into their narratives.
As a concluding remark, it would be appropriate to say a word about the
methodology I have applied for investigating the narrative poetics of the
Alexiad. My primary goal has been to pursue the politics of Anna’s text
through the images of family and power relations, the cultural logic of
Homeric discourse and political codes of vocabulary register during the mid
Komnenian century. In that sense, it was crucial to deconstruct the complex
architecture of the text, to understand its foundations, its scaffolding, and its
inner and outer appearance. I have tried to give an answer as to the meaning
of this text for Anna herself and for its wider contemporary readership,
32 Aristotle, Poetics, 1460a-b.

thinking of the time in which Anna’s message could be apprehended when

it started to circulate, and of the possible impact of this literary endeavor in
the political context of the mid 12th century. The tools I used were mostly
intertextual analyses between Anna Komnene’s Alexiad and other preceding
or contemporary literary works that were not strictly limited to the genre
of history. My aim has been to pursue the main elements of the dominant
discourse of the mid Komnenian epoch in order to understand the tenets
of the alternative political discourse. Apart from intertextuality, I found
highly valuable tools in the rhetorical manuals, which provided me with
the means to read Byzantine sources and to decipher the codes of ethical
and esthetical values of the period in question. Finally, the tools provided
in the feminist narratology for understanding and hearing the female voice
in the literature have been fruitful for further investigation on the topic of
Anna’s gendered discourse.
Byzantine texts are unique for their composite architecture. The impres-
sion that they leave on their beholders varies a lot and even nowadays, as
the studies of Alexiad clearly show, the impression we get might be different
or even mutually exclusive. However, that does not betoken good or bad
readings; it just means that we have grasped different layers of the text.
Since 2000 we have achieved much. I hope that this study will prove an
insightful supplement to the understanding of the complexity and literary
richness of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad.
1 Technē historikē
Ever since Herodotus and Thucydides, ancients had been scrutinizing their
approaches towards history writing, giving a sort of unanimous appraisal
that it should be dedicated to truth and deprived of impartiality and favourit-
ism. In addition, a millennial tradition of history writing bequeathed the
idea that the deeds of great importance should not be left to the depths of
oblivion, which was a resounding echo from Homer who could be considered
a forefather of history writing.1 Yet, as Thucydides explained, Homer wrote
as a poet, and this meant that his literary style was subjected to rhetorical
embellishments that made his story more impressive.2 Thucydides himself
spoke about truth (alētheia) as the final aim of his work, about evidence
(tekmēriōn) that could support his sayings, and about the trust (pisteuōn) his
readers could have in him.3 Nevertheless, Thucydides, who lived and wrote
in the age of the First Sophistic, had also recourse to literary imitation. One
of the possible models for Thucydides’ written style, Woodman observes,
might have been Gorgias, who stressed the importance of the speech since
the ‘language we use to describe reality is not the same as the reality itself’,
wherefore all sophists and logographers ‘were communicating language and
not reality’.4 However, Thucydides the fair historian, whose standards, accord-
ing to Lucian, were very hard to meet, eclipsed Thucydides5 a rhetorician.6
1 According to Woodman ‘it seems that Herodotos wanted his own work to be seen in terms
of Homer’s work, and his own subject in terms of Homer’s subject.’, Woodman, 1988, p. 3.
2 Thucydides, 1.10.3.
3 Thucydides, 1.20-21.1.
4 Woodman, 1988, p. 11-28; Woodman has expressed serious doubts in Thucydides reliability,
which accounts from already acknowledged invention in speeches (see Cartwright, 1997, p. 6-7,),
and highly probable invention in the description of events, for whose writing various technical
terms were employed, such as enargeia, upotupōsis, mimesis, ēdonēs – Woodman, 1988, p. 25.
As for the autoptic part of Thucydides history, Woodman expresses doubts even in these parts
of his narrative, comparing it with the insightful conclusions from psychology that people are
not able to ‘record accurately incidents they witnessed with their own eyes’ and even more from
such critical periods of their lives, as wars, for example. – See Woodman 1988, p. 17-19; Also, more
than a century ago, Finley entertained a possibility of Thucydides imitation of the Tragedians
in his description of battles – Finley, 1942. p. 321 2.
5 This rhetorical dimension of Thucydides work was emphasised by Plutarch, as Woodman
noted: ‘Take Thucydides, for instance. In his writing he is constantly striving for this vividness
[enargeia], wanting to turn his readers into spectators, as it were, and to reproduce in their
minds the feelings of shock and disorientation which were experienced by those who actually
viewed the events.’, Woodman, 1988, p. 25.
6 Thucydides became a model for both historians and orators – De Jonge, 2011, p. 456 et sq.
In almost all preambles of Graeco-Roman histories, historians regularly

repeated the common mantra regarding the truth about the great deeds that
should never be forgotten. We encounter the same thread in the Prologue
of Alexiad. Apart from promulgating the historian’s conventional wisdom
about the truthfulness of writing, the prologue introduced the author to
the readers and presented the main scope of the narrative, while outlining
particular reasons behind such literary endeavour. In a way, Anna’s Prologue
could duly fit into the Lucianic mould. One might even admit that Anna was
a ‘fair historian’, according to Lucian’s standards. In fact, aside the Prologue,
in several places in her history, Anna dwelt on the issue of history writing,
putting together what Kambylis perceptively described as the ‘Programme’
of Anna Komnene.7 To understand that ‘Programme’, however, we first have
to consider the general norms of the historical genre.
In the metanarrative commentaries within the Alexiad, in which Anna
Komnene refers to the ways she wrote history, or to her general conception
on how a history should be written, we see that she was very well informed
about the theoretical underpinnings of this literary genre. She stressed that
she aimed to write a truthful account of her father’s deeds and that she would
not resort to rhetorical embellishments in her presentation of historical
events. In this sense, she was not departing from Thucydides’ norms. Yet,
what the author exhorts and what she eventually does, in the Alexiad, by no
means aligned.8 While, on the one hand, Anna exclaims that she will not
write enkomia about her closest ones, on the other, she does that very thing
and employs all sorts of rhetorical adornments where her arguments would
otherwise appear weak. In the portrayal of her father, she creates a picture
of the ideal emperor, a kind of New Constantine resurrected, and one might
legitimately ask if we are dealing here with an exhaustive basilikos logos of
Alexios I Komnenos or with the history of Alexios’ deeds.
Magdalino has noted that Anna produces many anachronistic distortions
of events to make the picture of Alexios I fit contemporary political discourse
about the ideal emperor. Thus, the achievements of John II and Manuel I
were assigned to Alexios I Komnenos and the focus of Anna’s narrative was
adjusted towards political questions that were current in the time of his
successors.9 However, this is only one issue out of many to be discussed.
7 Kambylis, 1975, p. 127-146.

8 For example, the case of Niketas Choniates, see Kaldellis, 2009, p.77-80; Authorial practices
in Byzantine historiograpahy were discussed in the volume of collected essays History as
Literature in Byzantium, 2010 – see esp. Jeffreys, 2010, p. 73-93; Scott, 2010, p. 115-133, Kaldellis,
2010, p. 253-275, and Angelou, 2010, p. 289-307
9 Magdalino, 2000, passim.
TECHNĒ HISTORIKĒ 27
After more than a decade of profound scholarly interest in the literary aspects
of Byzantine histories,10 we have come to better appreciate their ‘literariness’.
We no longer pursue ‘sound historical information’ nor approach histories as
‘repositories of factual knowledge’. Instead, we have come to appreciate that
the value of these texts lies in their composite narrative structures rather
than their plausibility or veracity.11 If we, after all, read Byzantine histories
solely for the purpose of establishing a factual basis for a specific historical
period, then we inevitably become unpleasantly surprised by the deceptive
nature of such texts.12 Furthermore, Athanasios Angelou has advised caution
when it comes to the assessment of Byzantine historiography in the whole,
since we do not have a fully fleshed out theory about this genre and will
likely fail to appreciate what any ‘practicing rhetorician of history is doing.’13
It is beyond doubt that Byzantine historiographers, apart from writ-
ing about the past events, also distorted events or even were lying, and
oftentimes constructing narratives that suited their personal interests
and hosted in them their political agendas.14 As Roger Scott has aptly
shown, the same story could have been adapted and readapted by opposing
groups as an effective means of political propaganda and this was just
one case out of many in the Byzantine historiography when a ‘fiction was
recorded as history’.15 Nevertheless, it is still a matter of dispute whether
such authorial practices were actually part of rhetorical techniques applied
within this particular genre for particular purposes. Much as there were
precisely def ined rules for the composition of deliberative, forensic or
epideictic rhetoric that aimed to align the occasion of a text’s delivery with
its final aims, there were certainly similar stipulations with regard to the
historical discourse within Greco-Roman historiography. In that sense,
10 The turning point in these developments within the field of Byzantine literature has been
the conference held in Nicosia in 2000, which entertained possibilities of narrative approaches
toward various genres of Byzantine literature. – Agapitos, Odorico (eds.), 2002, passim and for
the case of historiography esp. Magdalino, 2002, p. 167-184. One of the first complete studies
to fully appreciate the literary dimension of Byzantine historiography is Anthony Kaldellis’
monograph on Prokopios of Caesarea – Kaldellis, 2004.
11 Kaldellis, 1997, p. 295 et sq.; Nilsson, 2006, p. 47 et sq.; Efthymiadis, 2010, p.169 et.sq, Kaldellis,
2010, p. 254; Angelou, 2010, p. 289-290.
12 For the invented episodes in Byzantine chronicles and histories see for example Scott, 2010,
p. 115-133, where he discusses the appropriation of the ‘apple story’ by both Chalcedonians and
Monophysites to suit their own agendas.
13 Angelou, 2010, p. 290-291.
14 An astute article on Prokopios’ literary techniques convincingly unravels all these authorial
practices: Kaldellis, 2010, p. 253-273.
15 Scott, 2010, p. 121 .
the formulas we constantly encounter as crucial markers of the historical

discourse are basic tenets for understanding the theoretical background
of Byzantine historiography. Although they encompassed certain literary
norms, histories also entertained the possibility of generic variability and
quite often included many rhetorical forms, easily identified. Thus, when
discussing a theory of Greco-Roman historical discourse, we immediately
become conscious of the allusiveness and narrative complexity of Byzantine
histories, in a sense that we are usually not dealing with one uniform genre,
but rather with a composite blend of genres within one sustained narrative.
This further implies that we might be dealing with a polyphonic narrative
and that within each text we might have a subtext, or even embedded
esoteric narrative.
Common denominator amongst ancient historians when it comes to
epistemological meaning of history is their attempt to bequeath the ‘truth’
about the past events to the later generations in order that the story about
them could be useful for all. Didactic purpose of history is a dominant
motive, as well as historians’ presupposed allegiance to the truth. However,
disjunction between reaching the ultimate truth and balancing personal
inclinations of the author was also an overarching rhetorical topos within
Greco-Roman historiography. In this sense, histories were always ‘engaged’,
that is, they served authors’ political agendas promulgated through texts.
Historiography of the Macedonian dynasty is a proper example of this
phenomenon. Their ascent to the imperial throne was problematic enough
to give rise to politically engaged literary activity, which sought to exculpate
Basil I’s ascendance to the imperial throne. This was not coincidentally
conducted under the supervision of his grandson emperor Constantine VII
Porphyrogennetos, whose own ‘imperial right’ was seriously challenged in
his early years. Political controversies usually reinforced the emergence of
histories, and their writers always claimed allegiance to the truth. This was
the author’s or purchaser’s way to construct his own reality, and to give voice
to those events that were inevitably sentenced to collective oblivion. Thus,
the Alexiad should least be understood as the ‘truthful history of Alexios
deeds’, as the author suggests in the Prologue. The Alexiad certainly supplies
us with a multitude of valuable historical information, but these data should
be analysed according to their intertextual logic. Only in this manner we
are able to understand what Anna’s story was about, and not what Alexios’
story was about. Alexios, as the leading character, only presents a mode of
annunciation for the author.
It is a conventional wisdom that characters’ speeches are an artful liter-
ary technique, which authors used to embed safely their own political
observations or more often, allegations.16 But there was much more to it.
Authors ascribed specific aesthetical and ethical values to the protagonists of
their histories to share political opinions and to praise or criticise. Precisely
through pen-portrayal of her protagonists, Anna conveyed specific messages
to her audience, and shaped them according to the cultural values of her
epoch.17 However, the choice of history as a generic category for a specific
cadence of Anna’s authorial voice was itself rooted in strong political motives.
The histories we are dealing with do not represent a mere sequence of
events. On the contrary, they are carefully structured narratives. In a recent
comprehensive article on the literary principles of the Byzantine histori-
ography, R. J. Lilie properly discussed the Invention method of Byzantine
historiographers, through careful selection of the most problematic recurring
episodes in the Byzantine historiography.18 The rhetorical dimension,19
as well as the literary dimension of the Byzantine histories has already
been acknowledged, and Lilie posed a valuable question when he asked
if we are dealing with a completely different concept of historiography
than we assume.20 However, I am not convinced that the Byzantines had
some completely odd and esoteric conception of historiography, but that
their approach towards discourse and prose composition was significantly
different from ours, and conformed to the rules of rhetoric. Since, to be a
skilful writer, one had to be a skilful rhetorician too.
Historians, just like rhetors, professed their ideas through characters,
actions, deeds and speeches. They distorted events, switched the focus of
narration, magnified, mitigated or abated, whenever those actions made their
arguments stronger. However, that was nothing new. As all other educated
people of Rome and Byzantium, historians were trained through rhetorical
manuals.21 Thus, they learned how to praise or to rebuke the same person,
16 For this kind of analysis see Kaldellis, 2010, with regard to Prokopios history, and Efthymiadis
with regard to Theophylakt Simokatta, history, where he stated that the speeches were ‘critical
weapon that grants narrative advantages to any historian who follows the classicizing tradition
to enshrine political ideas shared by the ‘playwright’ and author’ – Efthymiadis, 2010, p. 173.
17 See, for instance, Neville, 2012, p. 187.
18 Lilie, 2014, p. 157-210.
19 See also Angelou, 2010, passim.
20 Lilie, 2014, p. 168; This ‘different concept of historiography’ was most properly analysed by
Kaldellis in his various articles and books. The earliest treatment of this issue was conducted
in relation to Agathias – see Kaldellis, 1997; Kaldellis, 1999a; Kaldellis, 1999b.
21 As Kennedy explained vividly ‘a rhetorical education came to perform other functions
in addition to training in public address: it taught literary composition; it offered training for
future bureaucrats in the civil service; it served as an introduction to dialectic and thus to
philosophy; ultimately it provided training for preachers and controversialists in the Christian
event or act, to arrange arguments to prove the case in point, to defend the
accused one, to support and enhance their own stances.22 The rhetoric lay
in the core of every prose composition with its basic purpose to persuade
the audience.23 We read from Aristotle that the ethos of the speaker was
supposed to be virtuous in order to be persuasive. However, the moral side
of the act of persuading and not reaching the ultimate truth, in the time
of the First Sophistic, gave way to the criticism that emerged in the works
of Plato.24 In the dialogue Gorgias Socrates poses the following question:
Are you, as the teacher of rhetoric, to teach the person who comes to you
nothing about them – for it is not your business – but only to make him
appear in the eyes of the multitude to know things of this sort when he
does not know, and to appear to be good when he is not?25
Pretence, appearance and falsehood were all side effects of rhetoric whose
main purpose was persuasion. However, its potential to make ‘bad things
look god’ was a powerful discursive means in persuasion, but highly prob-
lematic one from the moral side, as Plato reprimanded in his dialogues.
The essence of persuasion was the process of gaining the audience for the
cause, even in the case when that cause was not unanimously accepted or
was morally dubious. Thus, sometimes, blameless were blamed, and the
unpraiseworthy were praised. This was especially the case with epideictic
oratory, from which sprung most of the rhetoric of the later Roman empire.26
According to Kennedy, ‘the most obvious political function of epideictic is
in expression of loyalty to the state by an individual, sometimes a suspect
individual […] Epideictic oratory thus performed some of the functions of
a state-controlled press in a society which lacked newspapers. Finally, in
the mouth of a courageous or subtle orator, epideictic could, while keeping
Church’ – Kennedy, 1983, p. 4. Thus, rhetoric was the basic element of any sort of oral or literary
expression.
22 Kennedy, Invention and Method; Kennedy, Progymnasmata; Gibson, Libanius’ Progymnas-
mata; general overview – Kennedy, 1983, p. 3-103; Pernot, 2005, p. 24-83; Worthington (ed.), 2007;
especially Byzantine rhetoric Jeffreys (ed.), 2003.
23 First orator that wrote his speeches and did not deliver them publicly was Isocrates who is
considered the father of the written style – Kennedy, 1983, p. 18; Pernot, 2005, p. 28-30; Voliotis,
1988, p. 26-27.
24 Namely, Gorgias, Menexenos, Symposium and Phaidros – for detailed discussion see Pernot,
2005, p.46.
25 Plato, Gorgias, 459e.
26 According to Aristotle, rhetoric was divided in three main groups – judicial, deliberative,
and epideictic.
within established traditions of decorum, convey to a ruler some of the

qualities which he lacked and could also convey to a perceptive audience
a criticism of the addressee.’27
Manuals of prose composition, called progymnasmata were filled with
instructions on how to put together all necessary elements of narration,
which figures are most suitable to express specific ideas, and what style is
the most appropriate. We read from preliminary exercises that ‘the virtues
of narration are five: brevity, clarity, persuasiveness, charm, grandeur, but
according to others only persuasiveness.28 It is interesting that we find as
a locus communis among ancient historians and their Byzantine successors
their fondness for brevity and clarity, without any notion of persuasive-
ness. That is quite expected, since the history per se presupposes the truth.
Where there is a truth, there is no need for persuasion. However, this does
not mean that histories were devoid of the art of persuasion. Contrary to
that, persuasion was the backbone of the art of writing which sprung from
the art of speaking.29 Nevertheless, it is not always easy to infer what we
are supposed to be persuaded of. However, it is neither our mistake nor
shortcoming; it is how the system of inference functioned.
Here we enter the field which, I argue, presents the core of the whole
system of historical reasoning, which brings us back to the very roots of
the Greek paideia, and that is Aristotle’s dialectic, the art of ‘how to argue
successfully in a debate organised in a certain way’. Greek thought was
essentially dialectical. Their art of reasoning was supported by precisely
established method. Aristotle claimed that ‘if we have method, we shall be
able more easily to argue about the subject proposed’.30 So the method of
reasoning, of leading a debate and handling the argument was there, estab-
lished in the IV century B.C., and it presented a crucial pillar of Greco-Roman
scholarship. It was a gymnastic exercise for the mind. Aristotle developed a
method to reason syllogistically, that is to advance the premises and draw
conclusions from them.31 The basic idea of Aristotle’s dialectical method was
a dialogue between two opponents, where a question posed elicited an an-
swer that served as a premise in argumentation.32 The participants’ primary
27 Kennedy, 1983, p. 24-25.

28 Kennedy, Progymnasmata, p. 137.
29 The father of the written style was Isocrates who was the first orator who did not deliver
his orations orally but wrote them down. See Kennedy, 1963, p.70-74.
30 Aristotle, Topics, p. 12.
31 Aristotle, Topics, p. xiii.
32 The process of argumentation might have been either through deduction (syllogismos) or
through induction (epagoge), and it could be either rhetorical (demonstrative) or dialectical.
goal was to refute the opponent by the use of the opponents’ premises.33
This implied further, that protasis, ‘a problem that has been put forward’
or the question asked should have been already universally accepted. For
leading a successful debate, the questioner ‘had to determine in advance
what the answerer will accept’.34 The building of the argument rested on the
already acknowledged and accepted opinions. Premises were accepted only
if they were endoxical, that is, if they reflected the opinion of majority, or the
wise, and which were not paradoxical, that is, against the common sense,
implausible and incredible.35 To put it simply, the process of argumentation
followed this pattern: ‘if I wish to convince you of something I may do so
by deducing it from other propositions you already accept.’36 Dialectical
argument rests on the interlocutors’ own opinion, which, therefore, proves
to be a powerful means for persuading them. The contentious character of a
dialectical debate nursed the ambition among contestants, who were ‘eager
to win’. This, without any doubt ‘explains why some of Aristotle’s advice
to competitors borders on the deceptive (e.g. shuffling premises around to
make it harder to see where the argument is going, or confusing an answerer
by adding irrelevant premises)’.37 Aristotle stresses that ‘if the opponent
realises that a protasis clearly leads to the conclusion which is the opposite
of his thesis, he will promptly refuse to grant it.’38 Furthermore, ‘there is no
way of concealing the conclusion which is clear from the start’.39 Therefore,
the conclusion of a dialectical debate should be inferred by deduction, and
very well hidden, wherefore Aristotle proposes ‘auxiliary protaseis for the
concealment of the final conclusion’. 40 One should never put forward the
proposition that is supposed to be established.
Having this in mind, it is easy to understand the very notion of the art of
argumentation – the idea was always to have interlocutor involved in this
process, where, no matter if dialectical or rhetorical (demonstrative), the
final conclusion was always left hidden and was supposed to be inferred.
A successful argumentation was the one that would lead its listeners or
questioners smoothly to the very end, without giving them ample space to
deduce the conclusion in advance, before all the premises had been put in
33 Aristotle, Topics, p. xiv.

34 Aristotle, Topics, p. xxiii.
35 Aristotle, Topics, 1.2.2., Slomkowski, 1997, p. 20.
36 Ibid.
37 Aristotle, Topics, p. xxi.
38 Slomkowski, 1997, p. 28.
front of them. One should not expect to see blatant arguments shattered
all around the text revealed without a slightest attempt to apprehend by
interlocutors since: ‘syllogism is an argument in which certain things being
laid down, something other than these necessarily comes about through
them.’41 Hence, the argument is not what we see or hear but what we deduce
from the seen or heard.
The Greek art of reasoning was by its essence dialectical and agonistic.
When dealing with the written legacy of someone who was trained to lead
his argumentation through this composite system, and whose mind was
‘gymnastically trained’ in this method of reasoning, then our understanding
of histories becomes much clearer. In our pursuit of a historian’s argument we
must at least have some basic knowledge about the method of argumentation.
Luckily, Aristotle’s Topics, Prior Analytic and Sophistical Refutations provide
us with the anatomy of this method. However, without going further into
Aristotle’s opus, from these basic tenets of the process of deduction, one can
easily explain the compositional process of Byzantine histories. Firstly, the
conclusion or the main argument of the history should not be visible. 42 It
is supposed to be very well hidden. If it is apparent from the start, then the
writer probably did not reach the summit in his dialectical training. Since
we deal with the composite structures and not with the simple dialogues,
the writers’ arguments are inevitably filled with all auxiliary premises that
would either render the argument clearer, or would hide it from listeners
through irrelevant premises, which was finally an individual choice of the
each author. The conclusion is not given, it is supposed to be inferred.
This means that we, as readers of these texts, participate in a debate as
imaginative questioners. Or, if someone finds this hard to accept, then it is
possible to explain the reading process through rhetoric, where deduction
takes place ‘through assertion of its premises in the monologue’, after the
manner of demonstration. 43 Either way, it is the process of deduction. The
only difference is whether that process is lead through dialogue hence being
dialectical, or through monologue, hence being demonstrative and rhetorical.
The next important tenet is that dialectic was also deployed in
philosophical reasoning, which means that it should lead to truth and
knowledge. Problem of the truth in historical treatises has been discussed

42 This was pointed out by Kaldellis in his earliest studies, and since then, by and large,
discussed and analysed – see Kaldellis 1997, p. 296 – ‘Their central messages are almost never
stated clearly and unambiguously‘.
43 Aristotle’s Topics, p. xxii.
a lot – history has been equated with the truth, but modern scholars are
somewhat perplexed by the concept that lies behind this axiom, since the
‘truthfulness’ does not seem to be always present in the histories we deal
with.44 However, according to the ancient epistemic value, history becomes
closer to philosophy than to rhetoric. History, as a truth and knowledge
we should attain about the past events, is supposed to teach and advise,
according to Lucian, and to be taught about the truth, one needs to know
the method of reasoning. In this sense, histories did serve a particular,
mainly ethical purpose, and were filled with mainly ethical protaseis and
problemata. Furthermore, all premises, whether those in dialectic, hence
syllogisms, or those in rhetoric, hence enthymemes, were constructed
according to the corresponding topoi. 45 The problem of the present topoi
in the ancient and even more, Byzantine histories was another problem
of the recurrent interest. It is maintained that the topoi to which we refer
in historiography are not corresponding with the koinoi topoi we find in
the rhetorical treatises, progymnasmata. However, if we apply the whole
system of deductive reasoning to our reading of histories, then the topoi we
encounter in histories acquire the same function as in Aristotle’s system – the
enthymemes (premises) are warranted by the principle expressed in the
topos. Topoi were considered to be principles (arxai). 46 For instance, ‘If
the less likely thing is true, the more likely thing is true as well’ is a topos,
according to which a subsequent enthymeme is constructed: ‘A man who
strikes his father also strikes his neighbours’. 47 Thus, the topoi in histories
could be understood as the principles according to which the arguments of
histories were constructed. In addition, starting premises, from which the
whole reasoning process derived were usually opinions of the majority or of
the wise and respectful men, a set of shared and accepted cultural values.
In addition, I find it hard to accept that the end behind some perplex
and recurrent episodes, which might seem irrelevant and distracting, or
amusing and entertaining, was solely for the entertainment of the audience.48
I believe that all additions to the central story, which at first convey the
impression of inconsequentiality, are actually ordered in the narrative
44 For example, Lilie, 2014, p. 163.

46 Slomkowski, 1997, p.45-46.
47 Aristotle, Rhetoric, B23, 1397b16f.
48 With regard to the episodes he analysed, and in particular those which he denoted as
‘timeless episodes’ Lilie has concluded that they were ‘a basic stock of Byzantine literary material’,
‘primarily used to enliven the subject matter, even if primarily intended for moral edification’
and ‘were not necessarily factual’ – Lilie, 2014, p. 197-200.
to support the central argument. This coincides with Aristotle’s idea –

‘to render the argument more clear’, one was supposed to use examples
(paradeigmata) or illustrations (parabolai) that were supposed to ‘be to
the point and familiar, such as those from Homer, not from Choirilos’. 49
Unfortunately, it might happen that we fail to understand the meaning and
right purpose of all these addenda, but we definitely should not discard
them as empty and unnecessary embellishments present in the text only
for their aesthetic appeal.
Aristotle’s exordium to his Rhetoric conveniently summarises the idea
that rhetoric or dialectic were intrinsic part of the art of argumentation,
reduced to a system:
Rhetoric is a counterpart of Dialectic; for both have to do with matters

that are in a manner within the cognizance of all men and not confined
to any special science. Hence all men in a manner have a share of both;
for all, up to a certain point, endeavor to criticise or uphold an argument,
to defend themselves or to accuse. Now, the majority of people do this
either at random or with a familiarity arising from habit. But since both
these ways are possible, it is clear that matters can be reduced to a system,
for it is possible to examine the reason why some attain their end by
familiarity and others by chance; and such an examination all would at
once admit to be the function of an art.50
In the opening lines of the Alexiad Anna prompts us that she too acquired a
good knowledge of the Aristotelian system and Plato’s dialogues, that she had
impeccable command of the Greek language and was ‘not unpracticed’(ouk
ameletetos) in rhetoric, which correlates with Aristotle’s advice on leading
a successful debate – if ‘we are unpracticed (ameletetoi), even though a
point is clear to us, we are often too late for the right moment (ton kairon)’.51
Anna’s appraisal of famous John Italos shows clearly that he lacked ‘gram-
mar skill’ and ‘rhetorical grace’ to be fully successful in his writings, while
acknowledging his dialectical skills.52
Thus, Anna’s self-representational passage in opening lines of the Prologue
acquires greater significance when contrasted to her appraisal of Italos. The
greatest intellectual after Psellos lacked rhetorical subtlety to be recognised

50 Aristotle, Rhetoric, 1.1.
51 Aristotle, On Sophistical Refutations, p. 20.
52 Alexias, V 8,6, p. 163-163.
as Psellos’ intellectual successor. Anna had aptly introduced herself as the

one who did not lack any of the supreme technai to be fully successful in
the argumentation.
In conclusion, the process of reading histories makes us comparable to
the audience that listened to the speeches of orators and followed their
arguments, being either persuaded or dissuaded. Many of the Byzantine
histories were envisaged to be performed in front of the intended audi-
ence, and not just to be read.53 Thus, the reading process presupposes the
knowledge of the whole system of prose compositions, which is as precise
as mathematical system. Rhetoric had its formulas with its variables that
were thought and practiced. Slight alterations were always welcome, but
the formula was constant. In this sense, writers were free to combine the
elements of their narratives by shuffling motives, themes, ideas and tropes
from established literary cannons, since their arguments were strongest if
couched in the already accepted and acknowledged values. Also, as part
of the performative character of the Byzantine histories, apart from be-
ing useful (to chrēsimon), they also had to be agreeable (to terpnon) to the
audience.54 Hence, historians always had to keep up appearances.
The paradoxical dichotomy of the ‘original style’ of every historian on
the one hand and the mutual resemblance among each one of them using
the recurrent topoi, motives and ideas, on the other, can only be explained
through Aristotle’s system of argumentation. To be successful in argu-
mentation, one had to couch his premises in already accepted theses, but,
simultaneously, he had a freedom to add weight to his arguments through
various methods, to hide the conclusion before the very end of the exposition.
To put it simply, each writer had an idiosyncratic variability of the
established formulas in his style to tell his own story. One can plainly say
that Byzantine historians wrote in codes, and that our task is to ‘decode’
their writing.55 However, this is not an easy task at all, since ‘excessive
praise of the mildness of a tyrant can be used as indictment of his brutality’,
and since ‘we rarely know enough about the personalities involved, their
predictable reactions, the circumstances governing the occasion, or the tone
of delivery.’56 In addition to this, the models used in their writings should
53 Such is the case with the histories of Agathias and Theophylaktos, whereas Prokopios was
probably intended for reading. – Kaldellis, 2012, p. 206.
54 Even though Lucian actually advises the contrary, namely that histories had to be only
useful. For the discussion on this aspect of Lucian treatise see Kaldellis, 1997, p. 304.
55 With regard to this especially influential are contributions from Anthony Kaldellis on
Michael Psellos, Kaldellis, 1999, and on Prokopios, Kaldellis, 2004.
56 Kennedy, 1983, p. 25.
always be double-checked, since comparison with the heroes always left

room for ambiguity. A cursory glance towards Libanius progymnasmata
reveals possibilities of praise and blame of the same topic, hero, city or event.
For instance, Libanius used Achilles, the most prominent Homeric model
of a hero, as a theme for both enkomion and invective.57 Thus, he reveals us
a plethora of different interpretations when it comes to our understand-
ing of the moral qualities or presupposed motives connected with these
legendary heroes.58 How can we be certain that specific author, by making a
comparison of his protagonist with some hero from the past, was delivering
a praise of that character? Aristotle’s advice could be helpful in this sense:
Contradictions in terms must be examined in the same way as an oppo-

nent’s refutations in argument, to see whether the poet refers to the same
thing in the same relation and in the same sense, and has contradicted
either what he expressly says himself or what an intelligent person would
take to be his meaning.59
Blame and irony in the text appear to be the most evasive. Except simple
exercise on psogos, we do not encounter any advises on how to criticise under
the veil of praise.60 Neither there are clear rules for embedding an irony in
the text. If we accept that the topoi were present in the texts as principles on
which the arguments were based, are we still able to grasp the very notion
of those principles? With regard to this, the person of the author becomes
of crucial importance, since only through historical contextualization of
the circumstances of his life, we can get closer to the understanding of the
decoding system. Are we dealing with ‘Artaxerxes’s physician’ who trembles
before the emperor ‘hoping to get a purple cloak, a golden chain, a horse
of the Nisaean breed, in payment for his laudations’, as Lucian suggests, or
with the person that only seeks to ‘attain his own end under the guise of
writing history’, as John Scylitzes warns, many centuries later?
Anna Komnene applied enfiguration to construct a history of Alexios’
deeds, meaning she ‘encoded her reality’ to express specific concept, inherent
in history. According to Lucian, this concept might have been purely didacti-
cal, but as much as it was instructive, it was also doctrinal and political.
57 Gibson, Libanius’ Progymnasmata, p. 221-229; 267-277.

58 We will see further in the text the invective of John Tzetzes on Odysseus.
60 I concur with the possible approaches to this problem proposed by Mullett – see Mullett,
2013, p. 247-263.
This idea, however, goes back to Aristotle who explained that ‘every art and
every investigation, and likewise every practical pursuit or undertaking
seems to aim at some good: hence it has been well said that the Good is that
at which all things aim.’61 By the same analogy, the art of history also aims
‘over and above the mere exercise of the art; and in the arts whose ends are
certain things beside the practice of the arts themselves, these products
are essentially superior in value to the activities.’62 The end of history is
the ‘truth’ and therefore, without any exception it falls into category of the
‘master of arts’, whose aim is highly desirable. History in its goal to present
the Truth, in order to be useful, comes very close to Aristotle’s concept of
politics as master-science, whose subjects studied are ‘moral nobility’ (ta
kala) and justice (ta dikaia).63 Nevertheless, Aristotle points out that such
premises are surrounded by uncertainty, as well as the concept of Good,
‘because it frequently occurs that good things have harmful consequences’,
wherefore those dealing with such undetermined premises ‘should be
content if they succeed in presenting a broad outline of the truth.’64 This
presents the epistemological core of the variability of the elusive concept
of truth in histories since they do not deal with universalities but with
particularities of human experience.
By virtue of the title of Anna’s work, she set in advance the mode in
which she would annunciate her story. It seems as if she failed to meet
Lucian’s austere rules for historians at the very beginning by mixing the
mode of epic and tragic poetry with that of a history.65 Lucian was explicit
that history should be differentiated from poetry, since ‘poetry enjoys
unrestricted freedom’ and ‘it has but one law – poet’s fancy’.66 However, it
looks as if Anna did not fail to meet Aristotle’s observations on the art of
poetry. Moreover, I am convinced that Komnene was more inclined toward
Aristotle’s conclusion about poetry’s precedence over history that ‘poetry
is something more scientif ic and serious than history, because poetry
tends to give general truths while history gives particular facts.’ (διὸ καὶ
61 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1.1.

62 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1.2.
63 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1094b.
65 For instance, Agathias was a poet and a historian, and the idea found in the preface of
his Histories that the only difference between history and poetry laid in the matter of metre
– Agathias, The Histories, p.5. Of course, one should not disregard the fact that Agathias was a
lawyer and a poet, which heavily resonates with the excellence in rhetoric – see Kaldellis, 1997,
p. 295-305.
66 Lucian, The Way to Write History, p. 114.
φιλοσοφώτερον καὶ σπουδαιότερον ποίησις ἱστορίας ἐστίν: ἡ μὲν γὰρ ποίησις

μᾶλλον τὰ καθόλου, ἡ δ᾽ἱστορία τὰ καθ᾽ ἕκαστον λέγει.).67 Metre was not a
trait that made crucial distinction between the two, since, as Aristotle
observed ‘Herodotus could be put into verse and yet would still be a kind
of history.’68 Therefore, Anna was probably doing the opposite by putting
an epic poetry and tragedy into prose. In contrast to the bare sequence of
events, she was more concerned with the unity of the plot, which does not
derive from the idea that the composition will necessarily and only deal
with a single hero. As Aristotle exclaims, one should not render everything
that concerns single hero, such it was, for example in Heracleiad or Thesiad,
but do instead as it was done in the Odyssey – one should construct the
poem around single action or deed.69 Homer did the same in the Iliad. Many
actions and events that preceded the plot of the Iliad were omitted from
the poem. Aristotle thus concludes:
As in the other arts of representation a single representation means a

representation of a single object, so too the plot being representation of
a piece of action must represent a single piece of action and the whole
of it; and the component incidents must be so arranged that if one of
them be transposed or removed, the unity of the whole is dislocated
and destroyed. For if the presence or absence of a thing makes no visible
difference, then it is not an integral part of the whole.70
Although epic poetry, due to its length cannot acquire a unity of plot like
tragedy, Aristotle admits that Homer’s epic poems acquire supreme excel-
lence when it comes to the art of poetry (technē poitikē):
The composition of these poems is as perfect as can be and each of them

is – as far as an epic may be – a representation of a single action.71
Aristotle compares epic poetry with tragedy and concludes: ‘The story of
the epic poetry is constructed as in tragedy, dramatically, round a single
piece of action, whole and complete in itself, with a beginning, middle and
end, so that like a single living organism it may produce its own peculiar

68 Ibid.
70 Ibid.
form of pleasure. It must be no such as we normally find in history, where

what is required is an exposition not of a single piece of action but of a single
period of time, showing all that within the period befell one or more persons,
events that have a merely casual relation to each other.’72
Aristotle’s exposition about the art of poetry is telling for our understand-
ing of the composite generic structure of the Alexiad, and the reasons for
Anna’s swerving from the presupposed rules of the genre of history. Anna’s
historicism was subjected to the rules of Aristotle’s techne poitike, in a sense
that she did not disclose history as a sequence of events ‘in a merely casual
relation to each other’, but rather suited her history to conform to the rules
of the unity of the plot. The resounding echo of Homer’s epic poems in the
title of Anna Komnene’s work already in advance sets the scene for the story
of one hero’s deeds that will focus only to several parts of that hero’s life.
The main plot is the story of the Byzantine Norman war that, in its greatest
length, is enmeshed in the Homeric imagery. When it comes to tragedy
that is also incorporated in the Alexiad, it is actually Anna’s personal life
story that is more vivid, and is recounted through character-portrayals,
their actions and mutual dialogues, has sudden changes of fortune, and,
most importantly, tells a story about her own sudden and unexpected
change of fortune. Another very important trait of this ‘tragic plot’ in the
Alexiad is that it tells a story about one family which also conforms to
Aristotle’s estimate that ‘to-day the best tragedies are written about few
families – Alcmaeon for instance and Oedipus and Orestes and Meleager
and Thyestes and Telephus and all others whom it befell to suffer or inflict
terrible disasters.’73
Another important premise between poetry and history is that ‘For
poetic effect a convincing impossibility is preferable to that which is
unconvincing though possible.’74 The most convincing impossibility in
the Alexiad that was rendered as truth was a story about Anna Komnene’s
imperial right.
On the other hand, paradoxically, Anna displayed historians’ conscious-
ness about the proper historical work according to Lucian’s advises. At the
very beginning Anna exhorts she does not write in order to praise herself,
that she will not deploy lies or construct an enkomion, but a history of her
father’s deeds – μή ποτε λογίσαιτό τις τὰ τοῦ ἐμοῦ πατρὸς συγγράφουσαν τὰ
ἑαυτῆς ἐπαινεῖν, καὶ ψεῦδος ἅπαν δόξῃ τὸ τῆς ἱστορίας πρᾶγμα καὶ έγκώμιον

ἄντικρυς, εἰ τι τῶν ἐκείνου θαυμάζοιμι.75 Eulogy, according to Lucian ‘may pos-

sibly please one person, the eulogised, but will disgust everyone else’.76 It
seems as if Anna was aware of Lucian’s harangue against introduction of
eulogy into the history, wherefore we constantly encounter in the course
of her narrative disclaimers of this kind. The main weight is added to the
argument that a historian is a ‘lover of truth’, which is contrasted to the
lies inherent in encomiastic compositions. This generic categorization
of the two heavily contrasted poles, history and enkomion, has another
dimension, that was of greater concern for Anna Komnene and which
pertains to the domain of ethics. It conveys the idea that each of these
categories presents the actual ethos of the speaker, that is, of the writer.
According to Aristotle:
Falsehood is in itself base and reprehensible, and truth noble and praise-
worthy; and similarly the sincere man who stands between the two
extremes is praised, and the insincere of both kinds are blamed, more
especially the boaster. Let us discuss each of the two, beginning with
the truthful man.77
Aristotle analyses a man who is truthful both in his speech and conduct (ἐν
λόγῳ καὶ ἐν βίῳ ἀληθεύει), and considers such sincerity a ‘moral excellence’
(δόξειε δ᾽ ἂν ὁ τοιοῦτος ἐπιεικὴς εἶναι).78
In the final book of the Alexiad, Anna delivers fulsome explanation of
her literary endeavour:
At this point I must again beg the reader not to rebuke me for being
boastful […] In any case there is nothing (as far as truth is concerned) to
prevent a person loving his or her father and at the same time respecting
veracity. I chose to write the truth about a good man, and if that man
happens to be historian’s father, it is right that his name should not be
omitted; […] But of course, the history must by its very nature be founded
on truth. […] The reader can rest assured that I would never betray the
truth under the guise of history […] If, as I said, this chance proves that
75 Alexias, Prol. 2,2 (30.31), p. 6.

77 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1127a.20.
78 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1127b.1.
I love my father as well as truth, the reader will not be able to complain
that I have suppressed the facts.79
‘πάλιν δ’ἐνταῦθα γενομένη παραιτοῦμαι τὴν μέμψιν ὁτι περιαυτολογοῦσα

καταλαμβάνομαι ἀλλὰ πολλάκις ἀπελογησάμην ὁτι οὐχ ἡ τοῦ πατρὸς εὔνοια
τοὺς λόγους τούτους παρέχεται, ἀλλ’ἡ τῶν πραγμάτων φύσις. τί γὰρ κωλύει,
πρὸς ἀληθείας αὐτῆς καὶ φιλοπάτορα εἶναι κατὰ ταὐτὸν τινὰ καὶ φιλαλήθη;
ἐγὼ μὲν γὰρ τἀληθῆ προειλόμην ξυγγράφειν καὶ περὶ ἀνδρὸς ἀγαθοῦ· εἰ δὲ
τὸν αὐτὸν ξυμβέβηκεν εἶναι καὶ πατέρα τοῦ ξυγγραφέως, τὸ μέν τοῦ πατρὸς
ὄνομα προσερίφθω ἐνταυθα καὶ κείσθω ἐκ τοῦ παρέλκοντος. τῇ δὲ φυσει τῆς
ἀληθείας ἀνακείσθω τὸ σύγγραμμα. […]οὐ μὴν ἐν τῷ τῆς ἱστορίας χρήματι
καταπροδοίην ἂν τὴν ἀλήθειαν.’
Anna’s deliberations on the history and truth are essentially Aristotelian.

What she means under the heading of ‘lover of truth’ is to be found in
Nicomachean Ethics:
For the lover of truth (ὁ γὰρ φιλαλήθης), who is truthful even when nothing
depends on it, will a fortiori be truthful when some interest is at stake,
since having all along avoided falsehood for its own sake, he will assuredly
avoid it when it is morally base; and this is a disposition that we praise.
The sincere man will diverge from the truth, if at all, in the direction of
understatement rather than exaggeration; since this appears in better
taste, as all excess is offensive.80
Anna’s definition of her writing brings us back to philosophical dimension

of history, where Anna’s phrasing that she set out to write ‘about the Good
man’ (περὶ ἀνδρὸς ἀγαθοῦ) recalls again the very introduction to Nicomachean
ethics, where Aristotle set himself a goal to write about a universal Good
(agathon), which is the object of his search. She stresses further, that if by
any chance, it occurred that her treatment of the universalia brought up a
particular person as an example, it was not for any premeditated reason.
Thus, Anna concludes her history as a philosopher, a lover and a seeker of
truth, and hence, morally excellent person, which embarked on a road to
give an ethical treatise about the universal good, which happened to be
her father.
79 Alexiad, p. 478; Alexias, XV 3,4, p. 468.

80 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1127b.1.
The idea that a philosopher should write a history was nothing new in
Anna’s time. An example was set a generation before in Michael Psellos’
Chronographia, of whom Anna Komnene was a keen emulator. Neverthe-
less, even Psellos was not the one who invented philosophical approach
toward history. In Lucian’s treatise, we learn about the type of a ‘philosophic
historian’:
He subjects his readers to a dialectic catechism, his thesis being the

highly philosophic one, that no one but a philosopher should write
history. Very shortly there follows a second logical process, itself followed
by a third; in fact the whole preface is one mass of dialectic f igures.
There is flattery, indeed, ad nauseam, eulogy vulgar to the point of
farce; but never without the logical trimmings; always that dialectical
catechism. I confess it strikes me as a vulgarity also, hardly worthy of
a philosopher with so long and white a beard, when he gives it in his
preface as our ruler’s special good fortune that philosophers should
consent to record his actions; he had better have left us to reach that
conclusion for ourselves--if at all.81
In order to contextualise such a mixture of seemingly contradictory premises

when it comes to Anna Komnene’s art of historian, one should first ask
what could be the aim of such an endeavour. The rationale delivered by the
authoress in the Prologue is embedded in a sweeping generalization about
the expectations of a history. However, even here the authoress entertains
a possibility that the story of Alexios’ deeds might also be a story of her
own ‘calamities of the past’. At the end of the Prologue, she set scene for
her own tragedy:
My own lot has been far from fortunate in other ways, ever since I was
wrapped in swaddling-clothes in the Porphyra, and I have not enjoyed
good luck – although one would not deny that fortune did smile on me
when I had parents an emperor and an empress, and when I was born in
the Porphyra. The rest was full of troubles, full of revolution. Orpheus with
his song moved rocks and forests, even inanimate nature; Timotheus the
flute-player by his Orthian strains once stirred the Macedonian Alexander
to take up the sword and arm himself without delay for battle; the story
of my afflictions would move no one physically to arms or battle, though

it would stir the reader to weep with them and wring sympathy from
nature, animate and inanimate alike.82
At the very beginning, the readers are not sure if the story of Alexios’ deeds
will entail also the story Anna’s own afflictions. However, Homer’s poems,
as Aristotle explains, did provide the most excellent narrative landscape
for both epic and tragic stories. In the words of Anna’s contemporary, John
Tzetzes, Homer was the most skilful rhetorician also. And one cannot deny
Homer being a philosopher who supplied the inventory of human knowledge
with universal protaseis about the human ethos.
In that sense, Anna was both a rhetorician and a philosopher. As a
rhetorician, Anna set off to persuade her audience in her own truth. As
a dialectician, she aimed at winning. As a philosopher Anna chose his-
tory to reach the supreme truth, invoking her audience to participate in
this epistemological query through the processes of both deduction and
induction.
The readers actively participate in the reading process – they act as
interlocutors in the imaginary dialectical debate, and are expected to infer
the hidden conclusions. The existence of the audience implies that some
kind of final judgment will be made. And ‘since the object of Rhetoric is
judgment […] it is not only necessary to consider how to make the speech
itself demonstrative and convincing, but also that the speaker should show
himself to be of a certain character and should know how to put the judge
into a certain frame of mind.83
The ethos of the speaker reveals itself during a speech, and it should
arouse listeners’ emotions for his cause. That is how the process of ‘mind
framing’ functioned in the art of oratory, and the same process was applied
in the Alexiad through figures and tropes Anna used to encode her ‘reality’.
Although Thucydides was historian’s ‘noble legislator’, who ‘drew the line
which parts a good historian from a bad’, and bequeathed a work to be a
possession forever, not a bid for present reputation’,84 Anna had one more
prominent example she decided to emulate: Michael Psellos, the most
renowned philosopher historian, a master of the art of rhetoric.
82 Alexiad, p. 20-21.
83 Aristotle, Rhetoric, 2.1.2.
Discursive frame of the Alexiad
That era produced few men of erudition, and even they stood only at the outer
door of the Aristotelian doctrines and merely repeated the Platonic allegories,
without any understanding of their hidden meaning or of the philosophers’
studies in dialectic or proof by syllogistic deduction. There being no proper
criterion, their judgement on these great men was erroneous. […] The palace
indeed clothed itself in the outward form of philosophy for all to see, but it was
all a mask and pretence: there was no real test, no real quest for truth.
− Michael Psellos, Chronographia, p. 64
Probably the greatest intellectual of Byzantine millennial history, Michael

Psellos, was renowned as a philosopher, rhetorician, teacher, imperial
advisor and politician. Psellos’ lifetime (1018-c. 1078) coincided with the
rise of the two most important aristocratic houses of the late 11th and 12th
centuries, namely, the Komnenoi and the Doukai. Political ties extended
beyond familial or kin relations and Michael Psellos was admitted to the
house of Constantine Doukas, most probably as a tutor to his children.85
In the tumultuous years following the death of the emperor Constantine
X Doukas in 1067, Psellos became the closest associate of the Caesar John
Doukas, the brother of the late emperor. Psellos and Caesar John, were
side-lined from the court in the time of Michael VII (1072-1078) due to the
activity of logothete Nicephoritzes. Psellos’ letter collection reveals an
intimate relationship between these two highly influential figures, and
Skylitzes Continuatus narrative reveals disgraceful side of their political
collaboration.86
Caesar John was grandfather of the empress Eirene Doukaina, Anna
Komnene’s mother. Papaioannou suggested that, because of these close
relationships, one might assume that ‘Psellos letters were present in the
libraries of Anna and other twelfth-century writers’.87 This conjecture might
as well extend to many other highly valuable manuscripts of Psellos’ other
85 On the structure of the Byzantine aristocratic oikos see Magdalino, 1984, p. 92-111, esp. 96-97.
86 The appraisal of Jeffreys on Psellos letters to the members of Constantine X Doukas family
says that ‘no such letters are datable to other reigns, suggesting unusual familiarity’ – Jeffreys,
2010, p. 82. For letters of Psellos to caesar John see Jeffreys, 2010, p. 82, esp. n. 35; One example
for Psellos relationship with caesar John Doukas in the letter collection – Papaioannou, 2011b,
p. 46-49; On the negative attitude of Skylites Continuatus, see Synexeia, p. 152,23; 156,7.
87 Papaioannou, 2012, p. 316.
works, such as, for example, the Chronographia.88 Psellos’ most widely known
literary undertaking, the Chronographia, a history of the Byzantine rulers
from Basil II to Michael VII Doukas, was preserved in only one manuscript.89
In comparison to the number of manuscripts in which his letter collec-
tions were preserved, this occurrence presents a paradox of its kind.90 It is
impossible to tell whether this state of affairs in the manuscript tradition
of Psellos’ literary heritage is commensurate with the greater popularity of
his letters, or it is on behalf of inevitable loss of the potential manuscripts
of Chronographia in the tempestuous historical circumstances.91 However,
it is interesting to think of Psellos’ popularity in the subsequent centuries
in terms of his other works and not the Chronographia. This conjecture can
be easily explained in relation to highly disputable ‘nature’ of his history,
since Psellos was involved in many controversial affairs of 11th century, and
even two times in his life found himself in the role of a political ‘outcast’.92
Psellos’ relations with the powerful aristocrats and the emperors are still a
matter of scholarly dispute, and his Chronographia has been assessed as a
narrative landscape for his ‘literary revenge’ against emperor Constantine
IX Monomachos.93 The historical genre with presupposed truth served
Psellos’ own literary revenge against Monomachos who was responsible
both for the philosopher’s success and later downfall.94 Nevertheless, this
was not the only argument of his complex ‘history’. His characterisation
of the emperors, their lives, their illnesses and deaths, were all means of
expressing Psellos’ political and personal views, doubts, constrains, beliefs
and accusations.95 Problematic and to some extent controversial nature of
Michael Psellos’ history was most probably immediately recognised among
88 I am grateful to Stratis Papaioannou for having shared with me his thoughts on the manu-
script of Chronographia.
89 Kaldellis, 1999, p. 22; As Jeffreys noticed, Psellos’ Chronographia ‘has eclipsed everything
else that Psellos himself wrote’ – Jeffreys, 2010, p. 73.
90 Papaioannou, 1998, p. 67-117.
91 For Psellos status as a ‘model epistolographer’ see Papaioannou, 2012, 314-328; esp. 317-318.
92 In the time of the emperor Constantine IX Monomachos he lost his high status at the imperial
court and he was forced to a monastery. Second time he fell from favour of the emperor Michael
VII Doukas due to the increased influence of the logothete Nicephoritzes.
93 This notion of Psellos’ Chronographia as a ‘literary revenge’ against emperor Constantine
Monomachos was employed and explained by Milena Repajić – see Repajić, 2015, Repajić,
2016. However, for earlier appraisals of Monomachos in Chronographia see Kaldellis, 1999;
Pietsch, 2005, p. 66-97; Jeffreys has denoted Psellos’ style in case of Monomachos as ‘reductio
ad absurdum’ – Jeffreys, 2010, p. 78.
94 Repajić, 2015, passim.
95 The most recent dissertation deals in detail with these issues – see Repajić, 2016, passim.
his contemporaries.96 Byzantine intellectuals and people who composed

histories in the 11th and 12th centuries were all members of the same group of
people and spent most of their lives and careers in Constantinople. Among
them, Psellos was a name to conjure with. Psellos’ Chronographia found its
way into at least four histories in the next fifty years after its composition.
Those were histories of Skylitzes Continuatus, Nikephoros Bryennios, John
Zonaras and Anna Komnene.97 The latest edition of Psellos’ Chronographia
gives us a vivid insight into the intertextual brotherhood between this work
and the Alexiad. Nevertheless, even before Anna, her husband, Nikephoros
Bryennios, had culled the Chronographia to shape his own narrative of
Alexios’ war deeds.98 This peculiarity caught my attention especially since
the Chronographia came down to us in only one manuscript, which certainly
does not testify in favour of its wide consumption among Constantinopolitan
audience.99
Being preserved in only one or several manuscripts, Psellos’ literary
legacy was doubtlessly at Anna Komnene’s direct disposal. However, it is
not the availability of his written material which made Psellos Anna’s role
model. From the political viewpoint, the most satisfactory explanation of
Anna’s mimesis of Psellos lies in the prominent position he occupied within
her mother’s oikos. The crucial political argument of Anna’s Alexiad was
firstly espoused in Chronographia, in the account of Constantine X Doukas’
accession to the imperial throne. According to Psellos’ Constantine X Doukas
was a God-chosen emperor, who supposedly refused imperial sceptre on
behalf of Isaac Komnenos is 1057 (ὁ δὲ ἀπεβιάζετο καὶ ὑπεχώρει λαμπρῶς.
καὶ τῷ Κομνηνῷ Ἰσαακίῳ παρεχώρει τοῦ πράγματος).100 Psellos’ narrative
continues in the same fashion – ‘So God, long before his accession guided his
actions, wishing him to come to the throne by legitimate means’ – suggesting
that Constantine Doukas rise to the throne was legal, and chosen by God
(οὕτω τοῦ θεοῦ πόρρωθεν οἰκονομῦντος τὰ κατ’αὐτὸν, ὡς ἂν ἐννομώτερον ἐπὶ
τὴν ἀρχὴν ἀναβαίη).101 The second part of Psellos’ Chronographia spoke in
96 John Skylitzes and Skylitzes Continuatus.

97 For Psellos’ influence on these writers see Kaldellis, 2008, p. 225-228.
98 The most prominent example is Bryennios refashioning of Andronikos’ role in the betrayal of
Romanos Diogenes. – Bryennios, Histoire, 133-139; His text relies upon Psellos’ Chronographia, but
his narrative is more focused on the apology of Andronikos, whereas Psellos’ on his self-apology.
This clearly shows how the borrowings from the text functioned and how they were accustomed
to new circumstances and different needs.
99 Papaioannou, 2013, 255-265, esp. n.18.
100 Chronographia (R), 7.100, p. 254.
101 There is no such clear distinction between illegal and legal accession of Isaac Komnenos
and Constantine X Doukas respectively in the history of Michael Attaleiates. See Attaleiates,
favour of the Doukai, with regard to their imperial right. The seed of discord
between these two prominent families, Doukai and Komnenoi, was planted
precisely in the hazy years of 1057-1059. Without any doubt, the Doukai were
immediately more zealous to form a dynasty, than Komnenoi with their
leader Isaac I. The defender of the Doukai imperial legacy was precisely
Anna’s great-grandfather and Psellos’ closest associate, caesar John Doukas.
Two histories most tightly connected with the political discourse of the
Doukai were, not coincidentally at all, those of Nikephoros Bryennios and
Anna Komnene, written by the order of Eirene Doukaina. In this sense,
they were politically engaged to tell the alternative story against the one
that was current in the time of John II Komnenos, the vehement architect
of the Komnenian dynastic propaganda.102
The ‘abuse’ of history for personal promotion, self-boasting, apology
and political revenge reached its peak in Psellos Chronographia.103 It was
precisely the same pattern that was used by Anna Komnene to deliver her
own personal and political agenda. In Anna’s case, as in Psellos’, it is hard
to divide personal from political, since, by virtue of her imperial birth,
she actively participated in imperial politics. Whatever she chose to write
was expression of Anna’s political attitude since it related to the actions
and deeds of the people who created and led imperial politics. Clearly
constrained self-waning in both authors’ works attuned to the rules of
inoffensive self-praise. Intentional minimizing of the authorial persona in
both authors was again, just a rhetorical fashioning of Plutarch’s advices:
‘the unfortunate as well can boast and extol themselves with better grace
than the fortunate.’104 To this category, one should also add self-apologetic
discourse, which, in Psellos’ case served also for his political rehabilitation.
In the course of Anna’s narrative, we also encounter many self-reflective
utterances, directly borrowed from Psellos, which resonated with the idea
of defence against something. Of course, this was just a rhetorical technique
to espouse veiled self-praise. Nevertheless, the idea of writing a historical
narrative to deliver an auto-eulogy had in its essence a political meaning,
since writing was not a negligible act. Psellos’ ancestor in this discursive field
was undoubtedly Demosthenes, to whom Anna refers also numerous times.
p.106-107; 124-127.
102 For the political program of two spouses’ histories, see Stanković 2006, Stanković 2007,
Stanković 2010, Stanković, 2011. For the ‘Doukai’ perspective of Bryennios history see also Neville
2008, Neville 2012.
103 Kaldellis, 1999.
104 Plutarch, Moralia, p. 124-125.
Psellos was Anna’s role model in several aspects. His literary legacy
influenced the very concept of Anna’s own literary endeavour and espoused
the following premises: how to deliver a self-apology and embed an auto-
eulogy; how to construct an impeccable high level rhetorical profile of
the outstanding intellectual; how to shape a historical narrative, which
would have the most pervasive impact on the audience through its rhetori-
cal virtuosity; how to embed controversial political philosophy through
enthymematic argumentation; how to conceal the most important messages;
deliver two edged praises; inoffensively attack the enemies and, on top of
all, be pleasant, agreeable and persuasive.
In this regard Psellos was the impeccable literary model. He has been
credited for the revival of Aristotelian-Platonic ‘wisdom’, particularly focused
on the aspects of political philosophy.105 Highly valuable trait of his intellectual
endowment was appreciation of rhetoric and philosophy. He considered them
‘two parts of learning’ (ὅτι δύο μερίδες τῶν λόγων εἰσὶ· καὶ τὴν μὲν ἡ ῥητορικὴ
συμπληροῖ· τὴν δὲ ἡ φιλοσοφία ἀπέτεμε·), and thus, successfully reconciled their
ancient mutual exclusiveness.106 Rhetoric, according to Psellos is a necessary
tool for ‘the composition of speeches, sets forth certain rules for the arrange-
ment of arguments on political subjects […] and lends distinction to the spoken
word, and in general beautifies the language of politics.’107 Psellos’ definition of
rhetoric wavered between two genuine concepts of this art, those of Isocrates
and Aristotle respectively.108 Isocrates considered rhetoric necessary ‘faculty
to contend with against others on matters open to dispute’ and highly useful
in ‘the practical affairs of everyday life’, aiding in deliberations ‘concerning
public affairs’.109 Isocrates considered rhetoric ‘a branch of philosophy’. On
the other hand, for Aristotle, rhetoric was tightly connected with dialectic
and the ethical branch of politics.110 All these concepts were merged inside
Psellos’ ‘Aristotelian Platonism’, into an expedient branch of philosophy
that appreciated and espoused the forceful style in rhetorical discourse:
‘The thoughts of forcefulness are paradoxes [deinotetos] and profundities
[batheiai]. The diction is dignified [lexis axiomatike] and exceedingly figured
[tetrammene]. Its figures, clauses, rhytms, cadence, and composition are such
105 Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 9.

106 Psellos, Chronographia, 6.41; For the discussion on this aspect of Psellos’ intellectual thought
see Kaldellis, 1999, p. 145-154.
107 Psellos, Chronographia (S), p. 175.
108 Walker defines Psellos’ thought as ‘Aristotelian-cum-Isocratean rhetorical philosophy’ – see
Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 19.
109 Isokrates, Antidosis 256, 270; Benoit, 1990, p. 253.
110 Benoit, 1990, p. 254.
as belong also to the styles of solemnity and florescence; and its abundance and
brilliance are from enumeration.’111 His deliberations on Hermogenes method
of Forcefulness are significantly abridged, but this may be due to the nature of
his analysis, which was adapted for his young pupil, the emperor Michael VII:
So then, let this synopsis of the techne be a mini-technē for you: a les-
son easily taken-in, concise, cut short, full of sweetness, full of charm,
sweet-speaking, sweet-voiced, and extraordinarily sweet-singing. Thus,
even when sporting argumentatively [paizon], you shall gain a certain
profit from the discourse.112
In this ‘mini-techne’ for the emperor, Psellos suggests a ‘redundancy of

both diction and thought’, the one entertaining [kata diatribein] and the
other enthymematic [kata enthumēseis]’, and a necessity of developing
‘an artistic paralipsis [paraleipsin] in the speech’, for ‘indirect suggestion
[uponoia] is clearly greater than things left silent [tôn sigēthentôn]. Weaving
complications [periplekein], he adds, at an opportune time [en kairôi] is not
without artfulness.’113
According to Hermogenes treatise, and the examples he deployed, the
coryphaei of the method of Forcefulness were Homer, Thucydides, Demos-
thenes and Isocrates.114 Of the methods of these speeches, the most valuable
for us, concerning Psellos and Anna respectively, are paralipsis, aposiopesis,
periplokeis, hyperbaton, on forestalling the claims of the opposition, on
praising oneself without offense. Some of these, obviously, were omitted
from Psellos’ treatise on Rhetoric, but were deployed in his works throughout
and were copiously applied by Anna Komnene also. For example, paralipsis
and aposiopesis were used whenever the speaker wanted ‘to implant greater
suspicion about the subject in the mind of the hearers’.115 Paralipsis is the
‘figure of deliberate omission’, and functions by ‘drawing attention to what has
been omitted’116, and aposiopesis is when ‘the speaker starts to say something
and then breaks off suddenly, leaving some impression on the audience of
what was to be said.’117 Psellos’ most widely known paralipsis is Michael

113 Ibid.
114 Hermogenes mostly uses examples from these writers – Hermogenes, Invention and Method,
p. 204-265.
115 Hermogenes, Invention and Method, p. 212-213.
116 Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 38, n.101.
Keroularios, and Anna’ is John Komnenos. The uponoia, to which Psellos refers
is ‘hidden’ or suggested under-meaning, and a synonym for allegory.118 At the
course of this book, I will investigate some of these hidden and undercurrent
meanings, by using the recent readings of Psellos’ Chronographia.
In his other two treatises on the topic of composition Psellos appreciates
Sophocles and Aeschylus as those who have more profound ideas [bathutera
ta noēmata] and a more dignified linguistic arsenal [ē toû logou kataskeuē
semnotera], and whose works ‘on the whole, have greater dignity and elegance’
[alla semnotera ta pleiō kai outos eipein eushēmonestata].119 The elegance to
which Psellos refers is the one employed in the use of figures of style. Psellos
passes a literary judgment between the two romantic novels, Chariclea and
Leucippe, by concluding that ‘Chariclea’s novel is victorious to a greater degree’
and continues with the appraisal of the ‘beauty of the language of Chariclea’:
It is bedecked with graceful and beautiful words and has been composed
to create a lofty effect by a variety of figures and by the novelty of its
style. It is quite charmingly constructed and is animated by pithy and
paradoxical thoughts. It is organised according to the arts of Isocrates and
Demosthenes: the underlying theme is seen to be controlled far ahead and
any refractory element is at once reconciled to it. At the beginning (of the
reading) the reader fancies that most element are superfluous, but as the
narrative progresses, he comes to admire the author’s organization. The
beginning of the work itself resembles a coiled snake: the snake conceals
its head inside the coils and thrusts the rest of its body forward; so the
book makes a beginning of its middle, and the onset of the story, so to
speak, inherited, slips through (to end up) in the middle.120
Very recently, Repajić proposed this passage as a solution of a structural

conundrum of Psellos’ Chronographia, implying that the argument and
inception of the whole work lied precisely in its middle, that is, in the VI
book.121 This stylistic feature has its counterpart in Hermogenes corpus, and it
is hyperbaton, when ‘the reason for what is being said, something the hearer is
going to want’ is placed in the middle and, thus, it ‘becomes a tools of clarity’.122
Book VI of Psellos’ Chronographia is central for his self-representational
118 Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 38, n.101.

119 Psellos, Euripides and George of Pisidia, p. 45.
120 Psellos, Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius, p. 90-93.
121 Repajić presented this thesis at the 23 rd Congress of Byzantine Studies in Belgrade in the
paper Intellectual (Self)advertizing: Some Remarks on the When and Why of Psellos’ Chronographia.
manifesto, and brings forth the crucial argument of the whole work.123 In a
very similar fashion, the book VI of the Alexiad contains a crucial excursus
about Anna Komnene’s personal life, which, more than being just a story
about her birth, reveals remarkable elements of her political discourse and
thus, clarifies both preceding and the following self-reflective utterances.
The figure that was not discussed in Psellos’ summary of Hermogenes,
which, nevertheless, permeate his most substantial texts, and therefore is
inevitable in our analysis is: ‘on praising oneself without offense’ (peri toû
anepahthôs eauton epainein), which proposes ‘three methods of doing it
without offense, through generalization of language, claim of necessity and
change of person.’124 If someone wishes to speak about the excellences of his
character in a general language then he resorts to deliberations about the
good and bad men in general, in order to place himself in the first category.125
In this sense, Psellos’ Chronographia is prominent for his deliberations on the
prerequisite for successful ruling, which presupposes good imperial advisors,
according to Plato’s political philosophy.126 It goes without saying that Psellos’
places himself in this category.127 Through praise of the several imperial
advisors in Chronographia, Psellos’ aimed at constructing a persuasive
and non-offensive self-praise. This issue was most properly discussed by
Plutarch in Moralia who explained it accordingly:
Since towards one who praises himself the generality of men feel a great
hostility and resentment, but do not feel so strongly against one who praises
another, but often even listen with pleasure and voice their agreement,
some, when the occasion allows, are in the habit of praising others whose
aims and acts are the same as their own and whose general character is
similar. In this way they conciliate the hearer and draw his attention to
themselves; for although they are speaking of another, he at once recognises
in the speaker a merit that from its similarity deserves the same praises.128
123 Kaldellis, 1999.

126 Kaldellis, 1999, p. 167 et sq.
127 Psellos had developed various literary techniques to implant his rhetorical persona in the
seemingly neutral texts. That, of course, served to the aim of ‘praising oneself without offense’.
For example, a case of the only hagiography on Symeon Metaphrastes written by Psellos’ serves
pretty much this agenda. See Papaioannou, 2013, p. 158-162; for overall discussion of Psellos’
manner of self-presentation see Ibid, p. 129-192.
The same pattern of inoffensive self-praise Anna used for her characteriza-
tion of the female protagonists of the Alexiad, and mostly Anna Dalassene,
which will be analysed at length later. Anna’s discourse on women fits most
appropriately to this category. However, one should not disregard that the
whole idea to write about the great deeds of the great emperor, who just
happened to be a father of the authoress, was also a rhetorical manoeuvre for
successful and inoffensive self-praise. For this literary technique, Anna had
other Psellos’ work at her disposal, namely, the Encomium for his Mother.129
Anna’s mimesis of Psellos does not confine solely to textual adaptations
of the passages the Chronographia and the Encomium for his Mother, but
extends also to the way she created her own rhetorical persona, and to the
rationale behind her literary endeavour.
There are two important Papaioannou’s theses I would emphasise as
a corner stone in my investigation. First, he put forward an assumption
that it was most likely Anna Komnene who was ‘especially important in
revival of Psellos’ during 12th century, because ‘she culled Psellos’ texts
extensively, citing his Chronographia, his Encomium for His Mother, and some
of his Orations more often than the Church Fathers or classical writers’.130
Secondly, the period of 1130-1150 has been recognised as a specific ‘Psellian
intellectual mode’ when the important transmission of Psellian texts took
place.131 This was precisely the period when the Alexiad was composed.
The blooming literary culture of the John II’s Constantinople engendered
an establishment of a new literary canon in the work of Michael Psellos.
Anna cited Michael Psellos extensively.132 Yet, she mentioned him directly
only once in a long excurse on John Italos:
129 Buckley has also referred to these two Psellos’ works as models for Anna Komnene’s literary
mimesis. – Buckley, 2014, p. 13-19. However, while Buckley asserts that it was ‘Psellos re-Hellenized
Christianity’ which Anna assimilates; I am more convinced it was actually Psellos’ Aristotelian
Platonism she adapted on a larger scale. Also, Psellos’ Encomium for his Mother was devised
as part of his intentional political apology in the moment when he fell from Constantine IX
Monomachos’ favour. With regard to this, his rejection of ‘anything that Hellenic thought was
led astray by’ should be interpreted in the context of his auto da fe. Kaldellis’ interpretation of
Psellos’ intellectual thought should not be disregarded in the context of Anna’s literary mimesis
of Michael Psellos. See Buckley, 2014, p. 18, esp. n. 78.
131 Papaioannou, 2012, p. 316; Papaioannou, 2013, p. 256.
132 In the latest critical edition of Psellos Chronographia (2014), D. R. Reinsh shows us places in
Anna’s text where she quoted Psellos. So far, this is the most helpful labor conducted on textual
parallels between Chronographia and Alexiad.
Therefore, when Italos found the majority of this character, he consorted

with the scholars, gloomy men of uncouth habits (for such were to be found
in the capital even then) and after he had gained an education in letters from
them he later associated with the renowned Michael Psellos. This man had
not studied very much under learned professors, but through his natural
cleverness and quick intelligence and further by the help of God (which he
had obtained by his mother’s ardent supplications, for she often spent whole
nights in the church of God weeping and making invocations to the holy
picture of the Virgin on her son’s behalf) he had reached the summit of all
knowledge, was thoroughly acquainted with Greek and Chaldean literature
and grew famous in those days for his wisdom. Italos, then became this
man’s disciple, but he was never able to plumb the depths of philosophy.133
This passage clearly shows Anna’s reading of Psellos’ Encomium, and transmis-
sion of its crucial premises. His mother’s greatest achievement, for which she is
extensively lauded, was her devotion to Psellos’ learning. Anna’s reliance upon
Psellos is visible also in her Will.134 There she delivers a succinct presentation
of herself in which the two most distinctive features are her competency
in logoi – as Papaioannou put it ‘the only thing that Anna explicitly ‘wills’
[…] is to pursue learning, logoi’ – and her closeness with the parents, more
precisely with her mother, and hitherto, subordination to her will.135 Psellos’
dependence on her mother’s will, and her influence on his learning, that is,
on the course of his life, is the leading theme of the Encomium for his mother.
His argument is clear – his mother’s greatest virtue was her son’s exquisite
learning.136 An encomium for the mother was an encomium for himself.
Other Psellos’ crucial theme, which is an overarching topos that sea-
soned all his writings, is his exceptional learning, his versatility in logoi.
While Encomium for his mother presents the core of his self-presentation,
133 Alexiad, p.175; ‘οὕτως οὖν τοὺς ἐνταυθα ἔχοντας ὁ Ἰταλὸς εὑρηκὼς καὶ ἀνδράσιν ὁμιλήσας
σχολαστικοῖς καὶ ἀμειλίκτοις καὶ τὸ ἦθος ἀγρίοις (ἦσαν γὰρ τότε καί τινες περὶ τὴν βασιλεύουσαν
τοιτοῦτοι) παιδείας τοίνυν ἐξ ἐκείνων λογικῆς μετασχὼν καὶ Μιχαὴλ ἐκείνῳ τῷ Ψελλῷ ἐν ὑστέρῳ
προσωμίλησεν, ὃς οὐ πάνυ τι παρὰ διδασκάλοις σοφοῖς ἐφοίτησε, διὰ φύσεως δὲ δεξιότητα καὶ
νοὸς ὀξύτητα, τυχὼν μέντοι καὶ θεοῦ ἀρωγοῦ πρός τούτοις διὰ τὴν τῆς μητρὸς θερμοτάτην ἱκεσίαν
ἐπαγρυπνούσης συχνῶς τῷ ἐν τῷ ναῷ τοῦ Κύρου τῆς Θεοτόκου σεπτῷ εἰκονίσματι καὶ θερμοῖς τοῖς
δάκρυσιν ὑπὲρ τοῦ παιδὸς ἐκκαλουμένης, εἰς ἄκρον σοφίας ἁπάσης ἐληλακὼς καὶ τὰ Ἑλλήνων καὶ
Χαλδαίων ἀκριβωσάμενος γέγονε τοῖς τότε χρόνοις περιβόητος ἐν σοφίᾷ ‘ – Alexias, V 8,3 (57.68).
136 He says: ‘My debt to my mother is twofold, since she both gave me being and also dazzled
me with the beauty of discourse, not by ordering teachers to do this but by taking up the charge
herself and sowing in me the seeds of learning’ – Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 69.
Chronographia presents much more sophisticated expression of this

discourse and it served to assert Psellos’ personal political agenda.137 In
the same manner, Anna Komnene’s Will can be understood as a core-text
for deconstructing Anna’s discourse, which was developed in the follow-
ing decade and reached its full expression in the Alexiad, as a narrative
landscape for Anna’s delivery of her own political agenda.
It is interesting, for example, that the same allusions to the obeisance to
the parents, and especially mother, are found in Encomium for his Mother
and Anna’s Will also.
Encomium for his Mother Anna’s Will

For I remember, bringing it up […] It is to them that I also owe my
that even when I was crying and you turn toward this <wedded> life […] I
wanted to put me to sleep, instead exchanged that superior one for the
of the myths and the horrific Lamia former and I served the flesh due to
you would narrate at one time the the will of my parents. I regarded my
story about Isaac, how he was led disobedience toward them to be
by his father to the sacrifice and equal to the disobedience toward
how he obeyed him in all matters, God and a violation of divine law.
at another time about Jacob, who What also led me to this life were
received the blessing of his father my own innate modesty and most
because he followed the instruc- ineffable affection for my emperor
tions of his mother, while on other parents. And what strengthened me
occasions you would tell me about further were the sacrifice of Isaac,
the more sacred things, I mean who submitted to his father, and
about ‘the new Adam’ your ‘God and the paternal blessing of Jacob, who
Master’ who also submitted to his readily obeyed his father. Is there
parents in all ways.138 something more honorable than the
father’s blessing? Is there something
more blessed than the mother’s wish?
Especially, when they have been so
great and distinguished in virtue, such
that not even the world itself was
worthy of them.139
137 Ljubarskij,1978; Kaldellis, 1999; Pietsch, 2005; Barber, Jenkins (eds), 2006.
138 Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 65.
This ‘rhetorical seasoning’ of the two works does not present a mere borrow-
ing from the same normative corpus. It pertains to the group of ‘embedded
allusions’ that carry particular meaning through texts. In the same manner
as Psellos focuses attention to his mother’s will in his intellectual blooming,
Anna focuses to Eirene’s will behind her intellectual sprouts. Namely, both
Anna’s literary endeavours were written according to her mother’s will.
Anna’s Will Alexiad

The management of this property will He [the caesar] chose in particular to
be treated in detail by the present write the history of the Emperor Alex-
document of my testament, to which I, ios, my father (on the orders of the
administering my affairs in a will, have empress), and to record the events of
attached as a preface [proaphêgêsis] his reign in several books, when a brief
this text. In this too, I obeyed my lull in the warfare gave him the chance
queen mother; it was her wish and to turn his attention to historical and
I, again, did not resist. I decided literary research. […] He stopped writ-
to present this lawful testament in a ing because circumstances prevented
secret fashion at the precise moment any further progress, to the detriment
she ordered it. The full text of my of the history itself and the sorrow
testament will declare all the rest.140 of its readers […] This is why I have
chosen to record the full story of my
father’s deeds myself.141
Anna’s presentation of herself as a continuator of Bryennios’ task and not as

initiator of her endeavour, is shrouded in the guise of alleged modesty. Yet,
the situation is clear – it was done by the order of the Empress. Once more
in text, Anna stressed the incentive for her literary undertaking through
her mother’s wish:
Yet I remember certain remarks made by my father which discouraged me

from writing history, inviting me rather to compose elegies and dirges. For
I often heard him speak thus; I even heard him once reprove the empress
when was ordering scholars [wise men] (tois sophois) to write a history of
his labours, his many trials and tribulations, so that the record of them
might be handed down to future generations.142
140 translation provided by Papaioannou, 2011, p. 107.

141 Sewter’s translation of the Alexiad in this particular passage shows more clearly that it was
done by the order of the empress ‘ἐξ ἐπιταγῆς τῆς βασιλίδος’ – Alexiad, p. 19.
142 Alexiad, p. 505.
Anna enumerates herself as the only one among the sophoi, who succeeded
in fulfilling her mother’s wish, although her father was initially against
his history. Intertextual similarities among these works – Encomium for
his Mother, Anna Komnene’s Will and the Alexiad are highly indicative – a
connection with both parents, but more with the mother, obedience towards
parents/mother’s will, exposition of the exquisite learning. Anna’s oeuvre
opens with these crucial premises:
I, Anna, the daughter of two royal personages, Alexios and Eirene, born
and bred in the purple. I was not ignorant in letters, for I carried my study
of Greek to the highest pitch, and was also not unpractised in rhetoric; I
perused the works of Aristotle and the dialogues of Plato carefully, and
enriched my mind by the “quaternion” of learning (I must let this out
and it is not bragging to state what nature and my zeal for learning have
given me, and the gifts which God apportioned to me at the birth and
time has contributed).143
One should take into consideration that both Alexiad and Chronographia,
present the utmost example of authors’ demonstration of their learning and
their rhetorical virtuosity. For these two literary endeavours that present the
most solid intellectual endowments of both writers, their mothers should
be shown due respect.
Michael Psellos used Encomium for his Mother as a generic niche to deliver
an enkomion for himself. There are strong reasons to believe that his audience
was aware of that. Primarily, because of the overwhelming metanarrative
commentaries that he will very soon start with the main theme of his
Encomium – the praise of his mother – but somehow he repeatedly misses
to achieve that final goal:
How should I continue this discourse? For I resolved to treat one theme
but now the speech itself has carried me over to another’, and, although, I
prefer not to mix any of my affairs with her virtues, nevertheless, I cannot
think of any other way for me to fulfil this encomium in her honor, or
143 ‘ἐγὼ Ἄννα, θυγάτηρ μὲν τῶν βασιλέων Ἀλεξίου καὶ Εἰρήνης, πορφύρας τιθήνημά τε καὶ γέννημα, οὐ
γραμμάτων οὐκ ἄμοιρος, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ἑλληνίζειν ἐς ἄκρον ἐσπουδακυῖα καὶ ῥητορικῆς οὐκ ἀμελετήτως
ἔχουσα καὶ τὰς ἀριστοτελικὰς τέχνας εὖ ἀναλεξαμένη καὶ τοὺς Πλάτωνος διαλόγους καὶ τὸν νοῦν
ἀπὸ τῆς τετρακτύος τῶν μαθημάτων πυκάσασα (δεῖ γὰρ ἐξορχεῖσθαι ταῦτα, καὶ οὐ περιαυτολογία τὸ
πράγμα, ὅσα ἡ φύσις καὶ ἡ περὶ τὰς ἐπιστήμας σπουδὴ δέδωκε καὶ ὁ Θεὸς ἄνωθεν ἐπεβράβευσε καὶ ὁ
καιρὸς συνεισήνεγκε)’ – Alexias, Prol. 1,2 (10.17), p. 5-6.
rather, this truthful account of actual deeds, if not by intruding myself

into it.144
Of course, it is not an accidental omission at all, but typical Psellian irony.

He seems utterly distraught by some people’s envy and grudge on his literary
undertaking, namely that he writes for purposes of self-aggrandisement.
Nevertheless, Psellos’ arguments were usually in contradiction with his
literal statements – he perfectly knew that his audience was aware of the
aims of his Encomium, that some or even many of them would find his man-
ner reproachful. As his narrative clearly shows, he did not care at all about
those persons’ opinions, disparaging them as ‘slanderers’. Ultimately, he did
not deflect from his self-eulogy in the slightest, but conversely, immersed
himself into this task. The eulogy of his closest was the most welcoming
landscape to implant autobiography:
But should I narrate something about myself, let no one censure me, for it
would not be an autobiography (bragging, L.V.) (μεμψέσθω μηδείς, οὺ γὰρ
περιαυτολογία τὸ πρᾶγμα), but rather an explanation, to whatever degree
is possible, of my mother’s virtues.145
In the same discursive frame, Anna sets defense against periautologia:
But here again I must deprecate being censured on the score that I am
caught bragging (τὴν μέμψιν ὅτι περιαυτολογοῦσα καταλαμβάνομαι); for in
my defense I have several times said that it is not love for my father that
suggests these remarks, but the nature of the circumstances.146
Both writers tended to assure their readers that they did not venture into
this task for purposes of self-laudation, but to deliver instead an account
of their parents:
144 Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 62; and apart from this, there are numerous other places
in the text with the same idea: ‘Since I have proven that this speech addressed to her is most free
of risk and highly proper in every respect, let the encomium begin’ (Psellos, Encomium for His
Mother, p. 52); ‘I will set my part in the story aside now and confine my speech to my mother’;
Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 63; ‘But now that my speech has come to this point I will
initiate the encomium for my mother’.
145 Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 59 – ‘εἰ δὲ τι καὶ πέρι ἐμαυτοῦ διηγοίμην, μεμψέσθω μηδείς,
οὺ γὰρ περιαυτολογία τὸ πρᾶγμα, ἀλλ’ αἰτολογία’ – Sathas, V, p. 11.
146 ‘πάλιν δ’ἐνταῦθα γενομένη παραιτοῦμαι τὴν μέμψιν ὅτι περιαυτολογοῦσα καταλαμβάνομαι.
ἀλλὰ πολλάκις ἀπελογησάμην ὅτι οὐχ’ ἠ τοῦ πατρὸς εὔνοια τοὺς λόγους τούτους παρέχεται, ἀλλ’ἡ
τῶν πραγμάτων φύσις’. – Alexias, XV 3,4 (40.43), p. 468.
Encomium for His Mother Alexiad

I say these things [about his mother’s Now that I have decided to write the story
devotion to his education] not in an effort of his life, I am fearful of an underlying
to praise myself, but to indicate the source suspicion: someone might conclude
of my pursuit of literary studies.147 that in composing the history of my
(Λέγω γοῦν ταῦτα οὐκ βουλόμενος father I am glorifying myself; the history,
΄ ἐνδεικνύμενος ὁπόθεν μοι
ἐπαινεὶν, ἀλλ wherever I express my admiration for
ἡ περὶ τοὺς λόγους ἐγεγόνει σπουδή.)148 any act of his, may seem wholly false and
I appeal now to men who love scoffing mere panegyric. On the other hand, if he
and accusing, since the listener who is himself should ever lead me, under the
not hostile would not blame me at all for compulsion of events, to criticise some
deriving advantages from my mother’s action taken by him, not because of what
virtue even if in accounts and stories he decided but because of the circum-
about her.149 stances, here again I fear the cavillers: in
(‘Διαιτῶμαι δὲ φιλοσκώμμοσιν ἀνδράσι their all-embracing jealousy and refusal
καὶ φιλαιτίοις. ἐπεὶ ὅ γε μὴ βασκαίνων to accept what is right, because they are
ἀκροατὴς οὐδὲν ἄν μοι προσάψοι malicious and full of envy, they may cast in
αἰτίαμα ἀπολαύοντι τῆς μητρικῆς my teeth the story of Noah’s son Ham and,
ἀρετῆς κάν ταῖς περὶ ἐκείνην ἱστορίαις as Homer says, ‘blame the guiltless’.151
καὶ διηγήσεσιν.’)150 (Μὴ ποτε λογίσαιτό τις τὰ τοῦ ἐμοῦ
πατρὸς συγγράφουσαν τὰ ἐαυτῆς
ἐπανειν, καὶ ψεῦδος ἅπαν δόξῃ τὸ
τῆς ἱστορίας πρᾶγμα καὶ ἐγκώμιον
ἄντικρυς εἴ τι τῶν ἐκείνου θαυμάζοιμι.
εἰ δέ που αὐτὸς ἐνέγκοι καὶ τὸ πρᾶγμα
βιάζοιτο, ὥστε καθάπτεσθαί τι καὶ τῶν
ἐκείνου, οὐ δι’ἐκεῖνον, ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν
τῶν πραγμάτων φύσιν, δέδοικα πάλιν
φιλοσκώμμονας, μή μοι τὸν τοῦ Νῶε
Χὰμ ἐπενέγκοιεν ἐποφθαλμιῶντες
ἅπαντες πρὸς ἅπαντας καὶ οὐ καθορῶντες
τὸ καλῶς ἔχον ὑπο βασκανίας καὶ
φθόνου, καὶ τὸν ἀναίτιον καθ’Ὅμηρον
αἰτιόωνται.)152
147 Psellos, Encomium for his Mother, p. 60.

148 Sathas, V, p. 12.
150 Sathas, V, p. 14.
151 Alexiad, p. 18.
152 Alexias, Prol. 2,2 (29.37), p. 6-7.
Clearly, Anna uses Psellos’ phraseology to ascertain the truthfulness of

the account she is about to deliver. She stresses her connection with the
protagonist and proceeds in the same fashion as her predecessor that she
does not venture into this enterprise to praise herself. Those accusations
pertain to slanderers and scoffers. Both writers were defending themselves
from the same groups of people that were led by envy. This fictive defence
against imaginative accusers was yet another variation of Plutarch’s treatise.
A self-praise was acceptable when someone was defending himself from
false accusations. In Psellos and Anna’s narratives this was blended into
more elaborate form of self-praise:
Since towards one who praises himself the generality of men feel a great
hostility and resentment, but do not feel so strongly against one who
praises another, but often even listen with pleasure and voice their
agreement, some, when the occasion allows, are in the habit of praising
others whose aims and acts are the same as their own and whose general
character is similar. In this way they conciliate the hearer and draw his
attention to themselves; for although they are speaking of another, he at
once recognises in the speaker a merit that from its similarity deserves
the same praises.153
The praise of others, that is, in Psellos’ case, of his mother, and in Anna’s, of
both his parents, was actually just another form of self-praise.
Anna’s periautologia, as already stressed in the case of her Will, in the
Alexiad is also focused on the same premises as Psellos – on her closeness
with her parents and on her exquisite learning. Striking discursive correla-
tion between the Alexiad and Encomium for his Mother clearly shows the
nature of Anna’s history,154 and the mode she chose to deliver her political
agenda. Psellos’ Encomium was a literary exemplar for Anna how to deliver
a self-praise in the specific generic frame. Even more interesting is that, for
this purpose, she had chosen to write a history as a generic category that
presupposes only truthful writing.
Chronographia should also be taken also into consideration, since Anna
relied heavily upon it. Anna deployed Psellos’ sentences from Chronographia
that she does not write enkomion but a truthful history, and that she will

154 Anna uses precisely this phraseology – nature of history. For this issue see Vilimonović:
2015b, p. 209-212.
abide strictly by the rules of history.155 These were both authors’ intentional
paradoxes, which served to distract uncareful readers, or, conversely, to add
weight to the argument, for the perceptive readers. Lucian’s treatise has
already been touched upon with special focus on the antinomy between
the two genres: ‘between history and panegyric there is a great gulf fixed,
barring communication; in musical phrase, the two things are a couple of
octaves apart’.156 However, Lucian’s observations do not account fully for our
understanding of the Byzantine authors, who considered rhetoric, poetry and
philosophy inseparable elements of histories. Psellos’ restored the literary
tradition that was buried with Theophylakt Simocatta, who introduced his
history with the dialogue between philosophy and history, featuring in the
roles of mother and daughter. It was typical of all authors that borrowed
from Psellos’ discursive style to implant intentional paradoxes in their
writings.157 One of the greatest paradoxes was their insistence on respecting
the rules of history when composing histories. What were those rules, no
one was ever able to grasp. For the insight into Psellos’ norms for prose
composition and literary style one should turn again to his treatise on styles
of the ancient novels. In a nutshell, the style which Psellos commends is the
one that is ‘organised according to the arts of Isocrates and Demosthenes’.
The resounding words from these treatises are depths, omissions, solemnity
in the figures of forceful style, underlying meanings, careful organization
of the structure. Psellos’ welcomes that ‘the work attains to great learning:
matter drawn from the physical sciences is introduced, there are maxims,
theological reflections […]. It is not far removed either from Demosthenes’
public speeches […] The book takes thought for its reader by relieving him
by its variety and by the novelty of its diction, by episodes and various
turns (of events)’.158 Contrary to that, he finds fault with ‘Leucippe’s book’
that was ‘crafted in imitation to Chariclea. However, the painter did not in
all respects succeed in transferring the elements present in his model to
his own style.’159 Psellos’ mainly complains about Tatius’ lack of complex
155 ἐπεὶ δὲ οὐκ ἐγκώμιον τὰ γραφόμενα, ἀλλ΄ἀληθὴς ἱστορία (Chronographia, VII, 109, p. 257) εἰ μὲν
οὖν ἐγκωμιάζειν προειλόμην· ἀλλὰ μὴ συνοπτικὴν ἱστορίαν ποιεῖν, ἀπέχρησεν ἄν μοι τοῦτο τὸ διήγημα
εἰς πᾶσαν εὐφημίας ὑπερβολήν. (Chronographia, VII, 115, 260); As for Anna’s own distinction
between the history and encomion see, for example, the passage on the page 13. For detailed
analysis on the generic aspects of with special emphasis on encomion-history antinomy see
Vilimonović 2015b, p. 212-218.
157 Anna Komnene and Niketas Choniates also.
159 Ibid.
plot-construction:160 ‘In its subjects the book is lacking vigour and runs no
risk in the introduction of these (sc. subjects) but makes a natural use of the
facts and preserves the chronological sequence and, preferring the tongue to
intellect, the ordinary to novel, receives only that which is straightforward.’161
Both Psellos and Anna tended to convert their personal history into an
‘official’ one. Their dubious and in some respect, controversial, exegesis of
the historical events that influenced their lives, and finally, made them
political outcasts, is delivered in their histories in the guise of the bare
truth. In the same way as Michael Psellos in his Encomium, from the very
beginning of her history, Anna embarked upon a road of excusing herself
for writing a history of her closest ones, but she continued her ‘unflattering’
task and incessantly recalled her closeness with the protagonists.162 Anna’s
technique of self-characterization is also shaped according to Psellos’. Last
chapters of Encomium conclude in his deliberations on rhetoric, philosophy,
theology, astrology, and music and, finally, on ‘the mode of life that has
been assigned to him’.163 We encounter these same discursive markers
throughout the Alexiad in the form of Anna’s longer or shorter excurses.
Thus, Anna was fulfilling a twofold task – firstly, she was creating the
authorial persona of the high-level intellectual according to the model of
Michael Psellos, and, secondly, she pursued Psellos’ commended qualities of
elevated style. As quoted already, the work should ‘attain to great learning’,
‘matter drawn from the physical sciences should be introduced’ as well
as ‘maxims and theological reflections’, and it should not be ‘far removed
either from Demosthenes’ public speeches.’
Psellos idiosyncratic literary style of writing about the others as a mirror
of himself 164 was deployed by Anna Komnene in her own literary endeavour.
She wrote the Alexiad, a story of her father’s deeds as a mirror of herself.
Anna’s own rhetorical persona was presented according to Psellos’ pre
sentation of himself – all arguments were focused on his exquisite learning,
and his writing was narrative landscape for expressing his versatility in the
logoi. Behind this was a powerful political agenda – his own was focused on
assuring his unique position as the unsurpassed emperor’s counselor, while
Anna’s own was focused on assuring her eligibility for the imperial scepter.
It was the only way, although not the slightest negligible, in which Anna as
160 Psellos, Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius, p. 113, n.70.

162 ‘καὶ οὐ νέμεσις, εἰ τοὺς ἐμοὺς ἐπαινοίην ὑπὸ τῆς τῶν πραγμάτων ἀναγκαζομένη φύσεως’ – Alexias,
III 1,3 (33.34), p. 88.
163 Psellos, Encomium for his Mother, p. 99-108.
a woman could ascertain her political prominence in the exclusively male

sphere. One should only recall the words of Agathias that ‘those who have
busied themselves with this branch of literature should be accorded the
greatest admiration end eulogised as the benefactors of society.’165 Didactic
utility of histories had always entailed a political dimension also. In this
sense, historians were featured in the roles of ancient orators who assessed
the deeds of their fellow compatriots, criticised their lapses, praised their
successes and admonished them to take the best course of action. Many of
the historians did not ever experience themselves in the domain of warfare,
but considered instead themselves authoritative in the matters of wars and
politics. Their writings were recognised as such, beyond any doubt.
Psellos’ considered himself apt for great achievements. He was clear about
the means of reaching a final goal – instead of weapons, he used words and
Anna resorted to same medium:
When Homer praises an armed man, he adds this to his praises: the
soldier knows how to move his shield now to the right, then to the left. I,
however, will use words, my weapon, not only toward right and left, but
also to the front as well as to the back. For neither the colour nor the form
of discourse is one; both are manifold and varied. The one who knows
their mixtures and compositions will show his discursive spectacles
multiform to his lovers.166
Political debate: Anna Komnene and John Zonaras
Around the year 1142, a monastery dedicated to Saint Glykeria on the island on
the eastern shore in the Sea of Marmara, very close to the city of Constantino-
ple, was reconstructed and rededicated to the Virgin Pantanassa. The former
abbot of this monastery was later appointed an abbot of the most important
imperial monastic endowment, the Christ Pantokrator in Constantinople.167
Close links between the monastery of Pantanassa and the imperial court
165 Agathias, The Histories, p. 4.

166 Translation of the letter for caesar John Doukas was provided by Papaioannou, 2012, p. 47.
167 I am especially grateful to Theofili Kampianaki who presented two very important papers
on Zonaras at the conference in Munich John Zonaras’ Epitome of Histories: Intellectual Networks
and Readers,, and at the 23rd International Congress of Byzantine studies The Reception of John
Zonaras’ Epitome of Histories: The Evidence of Manuscript Transmission. She was also very kind to
share with me her valuable conclusions on Zonaras while working on her PhD thesis on Zonaras’
Epitome.
were attested once more in the chrysobull granted to this endowment by

the emperor Manuel I Komnenos in 1158.168 Around the mid-12th century,
one of the members of this monastery’s fraternity was a former judge and a
high-ranking civil official,169 John Zonaras, who composed the world history
extending up to the death of the emperor Alexios I Komnenos in 1118. His
work was undoubtedly a ‘best-seller of the Greek speaking world’170, which is
attested in the existence of more than thirty manuscripts of Epitome.171 The
date of its composition is not clear, but some notions in Manasses’ chronicle
led scholars to a conclusion that its terminus ante quem might be the year
1150.172 A very recent study on Zonaras, though, places the time of composition
of the Epitome around the year 1134.173 Nevertheless, whatever is the precise
time span of his composition of the Epitome, first half of the 12th century
seems more plausible to accept, although there are not strong arguments in
favour of any proposed date.174 Yet, the text itself gives notions about the time,
the cultural and political climate in which it was composed. As Magdalino
argued, Zonaras was, along with Choniates, immersed in a rhetorical debate
against Komnenian establishment, and his political argument in the Epitome
opposed the family-ruled political system inaugurated by Alexios I Komnenos,
who considered the empire his private property.175
For our understanding of the Alexiad, John Zonaras presents another
significant source. In his short survey of Epitome, Banchich has refuted
the possibility that Zonaras’ criticism of Alexios’ reign might be due to his
‘exile’ (fictionally imposed by Alexios), and that his account could have not
been an answer to Anna Komnene’s picture of Alexios in the Alexiad, since
it preceded it.176 These remarks are of essential importance for us, since I
argue that the Alexiad was a rejoinder to Zonaras’ Epitome. On the other
hand, Zonaras’ most probably self-imposed exile, that is, withdrawal to a
monastery St. Glykeria, is also useful since this notion of seclusion and ‘exile’
were repeated by Anna Komnene in her work, when she grumbled against
168 Treadgold, 2013, p. 391.

169 According to the information found in manuscripts, Zonaras held two important positions:
Commander of the Palace Watch (Megas Drouggarios tês Biglas) and the First Secretary of the
Chancery (Prôtoasêkritês) – Banchich, Lane, 2009, p. 2.
170 I use the phrase by Theofili Kampianaki, from her presentation on the manuscript tradition
of Zonaras’ Epitome at the 23rd Byzantine Congress.
171 Treadgold, 2013, p. 398.
172 For the earlier date see Treadgold, 2013, p. 390; Matheou, 2016, p. 42, n.4.
173 Banchich, Lane, 2009, p. 7.
174 For the argumentation in preference for a later date see Macrides, 2000, p. 73.
175 Magdalino, 1983, p.338; Also, Treadgold, 2013, p. 397-398.
176 Banchich, Lane, 2009, p. 6.
the rulers that condemned her to such grievous state.177 In the manner
of Zonaras, who stressed his dwelling in a monastery as an aggravating
circumstance in his heuristic mission to obtain all necessary sources for
composing a history, making a direct connection between his spatial setting
and a task of a historian, Anna talked about her ‘imposed exile’ and inability
to converse with people that might be useful for her literary enterprise.
Nevertheless, Anna’s ‘exile’ was within Constantinople, and the alleged
impossibility to receive people was just part of a rhetorical seasoning.
In the book XIV of the Alexiad where Anna delivers the actual program
of her work, she provides us also with a useful chronological notice on the
composition of the Alexiad, stating that most of the writing was conducted
during the reign of the third Komnenian ruler, which was Manuel I Komnenos,
whose reign started in 1143. Apart from that, she exclaimed that she was still
writing, thirty years after she had been forced to withdraw, in the year 1148.178
Conventional wisdom has it that Anna Komnene wrote the Alexiad until the
end of her life, which falls in the period between 1153 and 1155.179 If we follow
the information given in the prooimion, the onset of this endeavour was linked
with the death of Nykephoros Bryennios in 1138.180 It is thus clear that Anna
Komnene delivered chorological boundaries for the composition of her history,
which enable us to put the Alexiad in the precise historical context against
which my analysis will be conducted in detail. On the other hand, Zonaras
Epitome, which is fluctuating between uncertain chronological boundaries,
fits more to the fourth decade of the 12th century as the closing date of its
composition. However, it is not essential for my argument even if Epitome
was composed during Manuel’s reign. My hypothesis is that it either preceded
the composition of the Alexiad, or was composed simultaneously with it.
Zonaras’ Epitome and Anna Komnene’s Alexiad should be read conjointly,
since they speak about the same events in a completely different fashion, and
important silences of Anna Komnene are answered in Zonaras’ Epitome. In
addition, many other peculiarities of both works underpin the conjecture
that Anna Komnene knew Zonaras’ work while she was composing her
own history. The question is whether one of the reasons for Anna’s literary
endeavour lies in the emergence of Zonaras’ Epitome, which brought to light
the unpleasant picture of the Komnenian establishment. Even more tempting
177 Alexias, XIV 7,6 (59.64), p. 452.

178 Alexias, XIV 7,5 (47.52), p. 451-452.
179 For the dating of her death see Darouzzes, Discours, p. 220, n. 1.
180 The date of Bryennios death depends on the dating of the Syrian campaign, but it is more
probable that it was 1138.
hypothesis is that actual impetus for Anna’s resolution to engage with such a
demanding task might have been a portrayal of Eirene Doukaina by Zonaras,
with regard to the empress’ role in the final years of Alexios I Komnenos’
reign. Regarding Zonaras, there could be at least two reasons for Anna to
plunge into composition of an ‘official history’, to rewrite the story of Alexios
I Komnenos, and to remould the image of Eirene Doukaina. It is hard to tell
what the actual reason was or which one of these two prevailed, since we
are not sure when Zonaras’ Epitome emerged. Anna’s insistence on the fact
that most of the material she gathered during Manuel’s reign might allude
that she already had at her disposal the whole Epitome.
Zonaras’ discontent with Alexios’ transformation of the emperor’s role of
oikonomos to oikodespotes found its reverse expression in Anna’s construction
of the image of Alexios as ideal Eusebian ruler, Constantine the Great. Zonaras’
opposition to the conception of empire as a family-ruled estate was also in
the focus of Anna’s deliberations on the ideal political system. She turned her
praises toward conjoined rule of the two brothers and their mother, which was
a subliminal suggestion for the best governing of the Empire. The conception
of the imperial position as a roman officia accessible to each citisen was
unlikely to merit discussion in the case of Anna Komnene. Nevertheless,
the sole rule of a despotes who acclaimed his imperial power through his
exclusive male lineage was also inconceivable in Anna’s political thought. In
this sense, she was, paradoxically, closer to Zonaras’ concept of the imperial
office, than to her father’s genuine idea that the empire pertained solely to
his male successors. Anna’s political agenda tended to present the most
virtuous individual who could aspire to the throne due to his excellence and,
crucially, to his kinship with the most illustrious house. This was very close
to Aristotelian political philosophy too, to whose development in the 12th
century Anna personally contributed.181 The agonistic nature of the Byzantine
histories once again comes to the fore in this case. Anna’s answer to Zonaras is
essentially deliberative and as well dialectical. The contentious background of
these histories shows that deliberative rhetoric was not completely abandoned
and that it served very well when the time was ripe.
We should not question Zonaras’ sincerity about Eirene’s ambitious
nature and the influence on her daughter in any way, as Neville asserts.182
181 Aristotle’s Politics was not very popular in Byzantine philosophical thought, yet in the 12th
century Michael of Ephesus, composed commentary on this particular work, which suggests
that it was probably known to Anna also. See Kaldellis, 2011, p. 136-137.
182 Neville argues that Zonaras account only deals with Eirene Doukaina and mentions that
she supported her son in law, while not mentioning Anna Komnene explicitly. I do not see that
as a strong argument to exclude Anna Komnene from this circle. See Neville, 2016, p. 94-97.
She argues that ‘in both Zonaras and Choniates the actions of the women in
the imperial family serve, at least in part, to create a gendered critique of the
imperial men.’183 That seems slightly anachronistic since our preoccupations
with the gender issue tend to distort our understanding of the earlier times.
For instance, Anna Komnene’s Alexiad was never mentioned by any later
author as a ‘women’s piece’ or ‘women’s writing’ in a sense that it would
disparage it or discredit it. There were strong reasons to ‘attack’ Anna’s
work, judging solely from gender perspective. Nevertheless, not a voice was
raised against it. Probably only in Choniates’ history we hear an echo of a
negative (or just sincere?) perception of the Alexiad, but this is only one voice
among many of them. Alexiad was preserved in 14 manuscripts and was
copied along with histories from other male authors. Thus, I would not cast
aside Zonaras’ account on Eirene Doukaina as a fabrication, exaggeration or
misrepresentation of ‘reality’. Speaking of reality that is impossible to grasp,
it is certain that there existed only one. The writers we deal with had their
own perspectives of that reality. Even when they were silent, they spoke
very much. Anna’s important omissions are observable when compared to
Zonaras’ account who did not find some of the facts as repulsive as Anna did.
The twelfth century unquestionably raised many political issues and
these disputes are visible in the sources we deal with. One of the main
clashes, which transferred from the 11th and reinforced in the 12th century
was between the Doukai and Komnenoi, who fought for their dominant role
in the contemporary imperial politics.184 The leader of the Doukai oikos in
the period we deal with was the empress Eirene Doukaina. In her political
activity, she never disregarded the interest of her genuine family.185 From
that perspective, it is not hard to accept her confrontation with her son
John II Komnenos, of which Zonaras informs us. Emotions and motherly
love were not at play in these years, and I wonder whether they were ever in
vogue when mingled with the crude political interest. One should only recall
the case of the iconodule empress Eirene that blinded her son Constantine
VI, or the emperor Basil I who put all his daughters in a convent, for the
sake of preserving the imperial throne for his sons. The crucial divergence
between Zonaras’ and Anna’s stories lies in the picture of Eirene Doukaina.
Scholars tended to conduct historical analysis through reading Zonaras’ and
Choniates’ accounts conjointly as mutually corresponding in their negative
attitude toward Eirene Doukaina, with one important addition – Choniates
183 Neville, 2012, p. 17.

184 Magdalino, 1993, p. 185-187; 201-202.
185 Magdalino,1993, p. 201.
introduces a story about Anna’s attempt against John Komnenos life.186 As I

have already mentioned, we should mainly exclude Choniates’ account from
our reading of the Alexiad and focus on Zonaras’ since it is quite apparent
that there was a sort of intertextual dispute between Zonaras and Komnene
on the issue of Eirene Doukaina. Choniates’ account could be used as a
supplement to these two and a closing remark after many years had passed,
and after he had been thoroughly acquainted with both works. Choniates’
grudge against Anna Komnene might have been turned toward her challenge
to Zonaras’ version of events.187 It is hard to tell what actually happened on
Alexios’ deathbed, or what situation at the court preceded it. However, one
cannot disavow that there was an interfamilial conflict and certain political
tensions in the years after Alexios’ death in 1118.188 Why would anyone
mistrust a theory of Anna Komnene’s ambitious nature, while the ambitions
of Isaac Komnenos against his elder brother have been widely accepted?189
This again seems to be anachronistic modern gender-perspective where
any notion about the ambitious women is dogmatically considered a male
discursive marker. Why would anyone be surprised when faced with a
medieval ambitious princess? This seems as just an over-generalization
deprived of complex historical background of the Komnenian era. Anna
Komnene was not ‘just princess’ or only a ‘first born imperial daughter’.
For sure, there were many of them born into such an ideological garment.
Anna’s political significance lay in a peculiar political situation that was
marked by the conflict of the two most powerful aristocratic houses of the
11th century.190 This power struggle found its way into Anna’s narrative,
and presents its core, and the image of Eirene Doukaina in its essence. It is
not surprising that Zonaras’ work was directly aimed against the leading
political figure of the Doukai house in the 12th century. His idea was to
disavow all claims on the imperial and dynastic legitimacy of the both
imperial houses. Constantine Manasses, on the other hand, merged both
traditions into his versed history, while Anna Komnene, building upon the
political discourse promulgated in Psellos’ Chronographia, developed fully
186 For Neville’s analysis of Choniates see Neville, 2012, p. 20-23.

187 For Choniates reading of Zonaras and influence on his account of the ‘Deathbed dramas’,
but also significantly altered – see Neville, 2016, p. 103-112.
188 Although Leonora agrees with this, she considers it more like ‘rumour and gossip’ – Neville,
2012, p. 24.
189 Basically, Neville proposed this new hypothesis against Anna’s portrayal as a power-hungry
conspirator.
190 While acknowledging this political background, Neville takes it with a grain of salt – Neville,
2012, p. 16-17.
the idea of the imperial legitimacy of the Doukai. The end of the first decade
of Manuel I’s rule was apparently a period of a whetted political debate on
the ideological premises of the Komnenian dynastic legacy. Zonaras and
Anna appear to have crossed their swords precisely on the most sensitive
topic of Anna Komnene’s personal life, the role and place of the empress
Eirene Doukaina.
2 Image of the Ideal Ruler
Now that I have decided to write story of his life, I am fearful of an

underlying suspicion: someone might conclude that in composing the
history of my father I am glorifying myself; the history, wherever I express
admiration for any act of his, may seem wholly false and mere panegyric.
On the other hand, if he himself should ever lead me, under the compulsion
of events, to criticise some action taken by him, not because of what he
decided but because of the circumstances, here again I fear the cavilers:
in their all-embracing jealousy and refusal to accept what is right, because
they are malicious and full of envy, they may cast in my teeth the story
of Noah’ son Ham and, as Homer says “blame the guiltless”.1
In her prologue, Anna Komnene pursues the goal of an ‘historian’ and places
herself as a continuator of a long-established tradition. To some extent Anna
is, nevertheless, an exception. Her allegiance to history is constantly stressed
throughout Alexiad, where we encounter especially important deliberations
on her conception of history and loyalty to the ‘truth’ in the Book XIV, which
has been analysed already by Kambylis as part of Anna’s ‘program’.2 It is
peculiar to find the most important passages on the ‘nature’ of history in the
book XIV, where she brings to conclusion the idea on Noah’s son Ham, who
‘revealed the nakedness of his father’ in a different discursive guise: ‘Where
I perceive that he was wrong I deliberately transgress the law of nature and
stick to the truth. I regard him dear, but truth as dearer still’.3 Aristotle’s
famous exclamation that ‘between two things that he cherishes, he prefers
the truth more’4 has been used to attest once more Anna’s preference of the
truth over the love she felt for her father. A situation where a scion wrote a
history about the father’s deeds is extremely idiosyncratic. In this sense, it was
even more particular, since the author was the emperor’s first-born daughter.
1 Alexiad, p. 18; Alexias, Prol. 2,2 (28.37), p. 6-7: ‘ἀλλὰ καὶ τὰς ἐκείνου πράξεις προελομένη
συγγράφειν ἐμοῦ πατρὸς συγγράφουσαν τὰ ἑαυτῆς ἐπαινεῖν, καὶ ψεῦδος ἅπαν δόξῃ τὸ τῆς ἱστορίας
πρᾶγμα καὶ ἐγκώμιον ἄντικρυς, εἴ τι τῶν ἐκείνου θαυμάζοιμι. εἰ δέ που αὐτὸς ἐνέγκοι καὶ τὸ πρᾶγμα
βιάζοιτο, ὥστε καθάπτεσθαί τι καὶ τῶν ἐκείνου, οὐ δι’ ἐκεῖνον, ἀλλὰ διὰ τὴν τῶν πραγμάτων φύσιν,
δέδοικα πάλιν τοὺς φιλοσκώμμονας, μή μοι τὸν τοῦ Νῶε Χὰμ ἐπενέγκοιεν ἐποφθαλμιῶντες ἅπαντες
πρὸς ἅπαντας καὶ οὐ καθορῶντες τὸ καλῶς ἔχον ὑπὸ βασκανίας καὶ φθόνου, καὶ τὸν ἀναίτιον καθ’
Ὅμηρον αἰτιόωνται’.
2 Kambylis, 1975, p. 127-146.
3 Alexiad, p. 459.
4 ἀμφοῖν γὰρ ὄντοιν φίλοιν, ὥς που τίς ἔφη φιλόσοφος, κράτιστον προτιμᾶν τὴν ἀλήθειαν – Alexias,
XIV 7,3 (16.17), p. 450.
According to Psellos’ pattern set in Encomium for his Mother, Anna

Komene build up narrative scaffolding in the story of her father’s deeds
for her self-promotion. Second step was application of a discursive pattern
given in Chronographia, where the most sensitive political problems and
author’s personal revenge were set in the historical discursive frame of the
‘truth’. Thus, whatever was written in the text was labelled as ‘bare facts’
(γυμνὰ δὲ τὰ πράγματα). Anna’s promises from the Prologue are following:
she will not write history of her father’s achievements to extol herself, but
she does that. She will not resort to encomiastic discourse and solely write
about the events exactly how they happened, but she constructs appealing
basilikos logos for Alexios I Komnenos. She will criticise her father when
the ‘compulsion of events’ induces her to do that, but she rarely blames him
openly, and when she does that it only follows one pattern – her personal
political agenda.
The story of Noah’s son Ham, which Anna invokes in the opening lines
of the Alexiad, is very peculiar if we reconsider all its discursive elements:
And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he planted a vineyard:

And he drank of the wine, and was drunken; and he was uncovered
within his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of
his father, and told his two brethren without. And Shem and Japheth
took a garment, and laid it upon both their shoulders, and went backward,
and covered the nakedness of their father; and their faces were backward,
and they saw not their father’s nakedness.
And Noah awoke from his wine, and knew what his younger son had
done unto him. And he said, Cursed be Canaan; a servant of servants
shall he be unto his brethren. And he said, Blessed be the Lord God of
Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant. God shall enlarge Japheth, and
he shall dwell in the tents of Shem; and Canaan shall be his servant’.5
Ham’s ‘showing of Noah’s nakedness’ has provoked his father’s curse, and
what is even more important – Ham’s was subjected to his brothers from
that moment on. Even more indicative is the last sentence which stresses
submission of Ham’s progeny to his younger brother Japeth. Did Anna
recall this story to cast a sarcastic dart towards very similar events of her
own life? It is hard to tell in which manner biblical allusions were used and
what meaning or message was transmitted. However, this story of Noah was
one of the basic tenets of the Old Testament, and widely known. Whatever
5 Genesis, 9:20-27.
Image of the Ideal Ruler 73
was Anna’s precise idea behind this allusion, it was certainly amusing for
some members of her audience.6 In that sense, another allusion from the
Prologue is also interesting, this time pertaining to the ancient canon.
In the first chapter of the Prologue, Anna’ recalls a famous sentence from
Sophocles’ tragedy Ajax – ‘All things the long and countless years first draw
from darkness, and then bury from light’. This is a typical introductory
formula of historical prooimia – because events are subjected to collective
oblivion due to the irresistible stream of time, a historian task will be to
build a dam against it to preserve a memory of great deeds. Anna’s choice to
quote the tragedian (κατὰ τὴν τραγωδίαν) would not have been a surprising
occurrence had not there been a controversy about precisely this part of
Sophocles’ Ajax. Namely, these lines, starting from 646 to 692, are called a
‘deceptive speech’ and are considered ‘the single most controversial speech
in this controversial author’.7 So, the quote Anna used as the opening lines
of the Alexiad is the very first lines of Ajax’ ‘deceptive speech’. Why did she
open the Alexiad with a reminiscence from Sophocles in particular? What
was this story about?
The most general idea of this introduction is the fickleness of human
fortune and its dependence upon the deceptive nature of the Gods.8 This
idea converges with the inception of the narrative that treats man’s life and
his deeds, and the changeability of the life circumstances. However, in the
final part of the Prologue we come to see that Anna was not referring to
the fate of her protagonist, but to her own fate:
My own lot has been far from fortunate in other ways, ever since I was
wrapped in swaddling-clothes in the Porphyra, and I have not enjoyed
good luck – although one would not deny that fortune did smile on me
6 The Life of St Mary the Younger gives us an example of the author’s funny use of this allusion.
In the Vita, Symeon did not wish to translate the remnants of his parents himself into a newly
built monastery, and the main reason was following: ‘”I am frightened by the example of Ham and
therefore did not wish to look upon the nakedness of my parents”. For this reason he entrusted the
translation to others.’- St. Mary the Younger, p. 281. The translator, Angeliki Laiou suggested that
this particular story is “presented seriously or half-jokingly, as suggested by Symeon’s statement
that he did not wish to look upon the nakedness of his father, dead these four years”. – St. Mary
the Younger, p. 247. The important premise is that this Vita was most probably composed in the
eleventh century or a bit later, and that it is peculiar for its correct and elegant Greek, wordplay
and rhetorical figures. – St. Mary the Younger, p.245. Also, as Laiou noticed ‘it speaks of “audience”
literally, that is, as though he expected the text to be heard rather than read, which would make
the rhetorical affectations even more effective’. – St. Mary the Younger, p. 246.
7 Crane, 1990, p. 89.
8 Crane, 1990, p. 91.
when I had as parents an emperor and an empress, and when I was born
in the Porphyra. The rest was full of troubles, full of revolution […] The
story of my afflictions would move no one physically to arms or battle,
though it would stir the reader to weep with me and wring sympathy
from nature, animate and inanimate alike.9
Anna sets the scene for tragedy to deliver her Prologue. She introduces rhetoric
of lament that presents one of the crucial tenets of her literary expression.
Ajax’ story speaks about hero’s disgrace and his pursuit for vengeance against
Atreides – Menelaos and Agamemnon – who gave Achilles armour to Odys-
seus, instead to Ajax, the greatest hero alive. The deceptive speech tells of
the forthcoming reconciliation that actually never happened due to Ajaxes’
suicide. Did Anna invoke this line from Ajaxes to set a specific mise en scène
for a narrative of reconciliation on which she ultimately did not acquiesce
to? A similar case in point from the History of Leo the Deacon was analysed
by Hinterberger where he emphasised the idiosyncrasy of Leo’s mimesis of
Lucian’s Dialogue, attesting that the passage borrowed from the famous satirist
fits completely into Leo’s argument about the changeability of human fortune,
and that it was a ‘careful choice of quotation’.10 Likewise I argue that Anna’s
choice of quotation was not coincidental or chosen for its mere rhetorical
appeal, but in order to announce the ideological backdrop of her history.
Crucial elements of Anna’s prologue, based on the invoked stories from
the corpus of canons allude to several ideas:
Anna had directly connected with Noah’s son Ham, who exposed the
nakedness of his father, and was later cursed by father to serve his younger
brother;
A history of Alexios deeds opens with the first lines of Ajax’s ‘deceptive
speech’ and alleged reconciliation that was never fulfilled;
Anna resorts to the history of her father’s great achievements in order to
make narrative landscape for her self-presentation;
Discursive frame of her auto-eulogy is set in the mode of a tragedy and
its dominant element will be Anna’s lament over her own destiny.
9 Alexiad, p. 21; Alexias, Prol. 4,1 (5.16), p. 9: ‘ἔγωγ’ οὖν καὶ πολλοῖς ἄλλοις προσωμιλήκειν δεινοῖς ἐκ
μέσων τῶν πορφυρόθεν σπαργάνων, ὡς οὕτως εἰπεῖν, καὶ τύχαις ἐχρησάμην οὐκ ἀγαθαῖς, εἰ μή τις θεῖτο
τύχην οὐκ ἀγαθὴν καὶ προσμειδιῶσάν μοι τήν τε γειναμένην αὐτὴν καὶ τὸν τεκόντα, τοὺς αὐτοκράτορας,
καὶ τὴν πορφύραν ἐφ’ ἧς ἐβλάστησα·τὰ γὰρ ἄλλα φεῦ τῶν κυ- μάτων, φεῦ τῶν ἐπαναστάσεων. […]
τὰ δέ γε κατ’ ἐμὲ διηγήματα οὐ τοπικήν τινα κίνησιν οὐδὲ πρὸς ὅπλα καὶ μάχην, ἀλλ’ ἐς δάκρυα τὸν
ἀκροατὴν συγκινήσειε καὶ οὐκ αἰσθητικὴν μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄψυχον φύσιν εἰς πάθος καταναγκάσειε’.
10 Hinterberger 2010, p. 193-194.
Refuting the invective
Anna Komnene did not have an easy task. During his reign, Alexios had
faced serious charges against his austere anti-church politics. The existence
of the opposition was nothing new in the turbulent millennial history of
the Roman Empire, yet the voices of unsatisfied or disobedient individuals
did not come to us in satisfactory amount. Nevertheless, although there
are not many speeches preserved from the Alexios’ reign, we do have a
highly valuable source that reveals a deep and serious dissatisfaction of an
influential social group – the clergy.
The logos of John the Oxite, patriarch of Antioch, was actually a bitter attack
on the emperor on the account of the ill-treatment of his subjects, but mainly
of the church and its officials, and against the imposed heavy-taxation.11 As
Mullett observed: ‘John the Oxite’s speeches stand unparalleled in Byzantine
literature as straightforward criticism of an emperor’.12 Alexios’ contentious
politics, to which he resorted due to the lack of necessary funds for launching
the war against his enemies, was assessed by the patriarch as a crucial reason
for the utter collapse of the empire which was happening before their very eyes,
and because of which he was ‘punished in retribution for his many sins, mainly
by wars and many other ills that result from them’.13 The Patriarch had admitted
Alexios’ vigour and success in fighting against the rebels before his accession:
You were born into the noblest family, and in the very moment you became
adolescent you started with your deeds, and not any of them was moderate,
but from the very beginning, all your achievements were decisive and
successful.14
However, the moment of Alexios’ ascendance to the throne, reversed the

whole situation:
After you had acquired the supreme power, everything changed to the op-
posite direction – countless wars, tumults and misfortunes counterpoised
your earlier successes. Your army was handed over to the mercy of enemies
and slaughtered as cattle, the cities were conquered, and the Christian
11 For political significance of the problem of kharistike, the practice of granting administration
of a monastery and its property to a layman, that was addressed in the patriarch’s speech see
Angold, 1995, p. 63-66.
12 Mullett, 1996, p. 390.
13 Diatribes, p. 21.
blood was shed all over the country across the land and sea. Calamities
have now arrived to us and to this holy city that was once the eye of the
universe and the jewel of the whole empire.15
The change that occurred in Alexios’ fortune after he became an emperor

is stressed once more in the speech:
At the first place, emperor, the foundation of your basileia was unlawful,
as the events upon your accession. What of these shameful acts should I
recapitulate? Very soon after war was launched against you, you had to
consider the event a sign from God and a punishment for crimes com-
mitted in that time. And for that reason you should go weeping before
him and do penance through humility and contrition of heart and try
with all your might to reconcile the city that had suffered and so entrust
your fate to God that grants salvation to basileus and with his help fight
the enemies. But you did completely the opposite thing.16
This is a crucial discursive marker of Oxite’s speech that can be recognised

in the Alexiad also. The unlawfulness of Alexios’ ascendance is even more
stressed by Anna Komnene using the highly controversial term apostasia.
Yet, this issue will be discussed later. Convergence with the Oxite’s logos
lies in the controversial act when Alexios raided the City of Constantinople
with his army and slaughtered the citizens. John of Oxite insisted that he
had to atone himself for his sins, but according to patriarch’s words, he did
not actually do anything to procure God’s mercy.
Quite contrary to that, Anna Komnene delivered a vivid picture of imperial
repentance that included all members of his closest family, both men and
women. The acquisition of imperial power in the Alexiad is underpinned by
Alexios’ eusebeia, namely that from his early years he ‘had fear of the Lord
deeply implanted in his soul (τὸν τοῦ Θεοῦ φόβον)’, and that ‘he was grieved and
embarrassed at the plundering of the capital, which on his arrival had affected
the whole population.’17 Anna emphasised Alexios’ piety and his fear of God’s
wrath (θυμὸν τοῦ Θεοῦ; μήνιμα Θεοῦ) which made him humble and repentant:
He regarded the evil which had befallen the whole city as his responsibil-
ity, even if it was really the work of individual soldiers – all that rabble
17 Alexiad, p. 113; Alexias III 5,1 (41.44), p. 98.
that descended in a mighty flood on all parts of Constantinople. He

was sick at heart, filled with shame, as if he, personally, had committed
these frightful atrocities […] yet conscience told him, and that in quite
unmistakable terms, that it was he himself who had afforded the pretext
for such a calamity and had given it the original impetus […] But even so
he assumed the whole burden of guilt and was anxious and willing to heal
the wound, for only thus, after healing and cleansing, could he approach
the task of governing the Empire or satisfactorily direct and bring to a
proper conclusion his plans for the army and its wars.18
According to John the Oxite, instead of repentance he resorted to unpopular

measures in order to fill his treasury, without desisting from the luxuries
of the imperial life. Moreover, patriarch held a grudge against the opulent
life of the members of his family. John’s sharp tongue did not refrain from
blaming openly the emperor and his family.19
For verily, emperor, your family proved to be a scourge for the empire and
for all of us, because each of its members, claiming for themselves the
imperial life in the luxury, was more concerned for their personal profit,
than for the public interest, has caused thee to a lack of resources to the
point of forcing you to be greedy and to offend the God.20
Probably this accusation incited Anna to stress that ‘Majesty and power, the
royal purple and the stone-incrusted diadem, the robe adorned with gold
and jewels, all these he quite rightly looked upon as worthless compared
with the indescribable disaster that had afflicted the capital’.21
Anna’s refutation of Oxite’s invective deals also with the members of
Alexios’ family (ἐκ ταὐτοῦ αἵματος προσήκοντας) who shared penitence
with him through ‘fasting, sleeping on the ground and performing of the
appropriate rites to appease the anger of God’. Both men and women were
subjected to the ‘yoke of penance’, and the palace ‘became a scene of tearful
lamentation (ἦν ἰδεῖν τὰ βασίλεια τότε δακρύων καὶ πένθους ἀνάμεστα)’.22
18 Alexiad, p. 115.
19 Some scholars consider Oxite’s attack focused against ‘privatization’ of the Empire by Alexios,
due to family rule – cf. Stanković, 2006, 186; Frankopan has argued recently that Alexios system
was ‘proving unpopular, unsatisfactory and ineffective’, and that John’s speech ‘was clearly
symptomatic of more popular discontent in Constantinople’ – Frankopan, 2008, p. 85.
21 Alexiad, p. 114.
22 Alexiad, p. 115.
All accusations of the patriarch found place in Anna’s text. However,

Anna changed her perspective from the problem of the pillaging of the City
to the problem of apostasia. Two times when she referred to Alexios’ guilt
she mentioned his acquisition of power as the most problematic point in the
whole issue. What happened afterwards, as she stressed two times, was not
Alexios’ direct agency, but of his men. Nevertheless, apostasia was his own
act, and for that he needed to exculpate himself and all his accomplices who
participated in the act of apostasia (τοὺς πρὸς τὴν ἀποστασίαν συναραμένους).
After Alexios’ acquisition of power, Anna’s narrative focuses on the story
of Robert Guiscard, for which purposes she employed vivid and thorough
explanation of the foe, his cruelty, lechery and greed for power. She set the
scene for the war narrative in the Alexiad – war against the Normans – that
will be in the focus of Books IV, V, XI, XII and XIII. Magdalino has noted
that many of Anna’s themes present an echo from the reigns of Alexios’
successors and their foreign politics.23 Such peculiarity should not surprise
us at all, since many of Alexios’ political failures needed to be soothed. For
that reason, Anna used motives and ideas that were deployed by John’s and
Manuel’s court rhetors. Nevertheless, the first chapters of the Alexiad bear
important discursive markers that stood as antinomies of Oxite’s allegations
against Alexios. The main accusation was focused on the issue of violent
acquisition of funds. Anna set mise en scène for delivering apology of Alexios’
harsh financial politics:
The brave young emperor was in serious trouble. He did not know which
way to turn, for both enemies demanded the right to challenge first. He
was worried and vexed. The Romans had no worthwhile forces; in fact
there were no more than 300 soldiers in the capital and these were from
Choma, quite unfit for war and with no combat experience; there were
also a few mercenaries […] In the imperial treasury there were no reserves
of money with which he could summon allies from foreign countries. The
emperors before him, having little knowledge of war and military affairs,
had reduced Roman prestige to a minimum. Indeed, I have heard it said
by men who were soldiers themselves, and by some of the older men, that
no other state in living memory had reached such depths of misery.24
23 Magdalino, 2000, p. 15-43.

24 Alexiad, p. 124-125; Alexias, III 8,9 : ‘ἐν ἀμηχανία ὁ γενναῖος ἐκεῖνος μείραξ γενόμενος καὶ μὴ
ἔχων ὁποτέρωσε νεύσειεν, ἑκάστον τῶν πολεμίων πρὸς ἑαυτὸν τὴν μάχην οἷον προαρπάζοντος, ἠνιᾶτο
καὶ ἤσχαλλε μήτε στρατιὰν ἀξιόμαχον τῆς τῶν Ῥωμαίων βασιλείας ἐχούσης (οὐ πλείους γὰρ τῶν
τριακοσίων στρατιωτῶν ἦσαν καὶ τούτων ἐκ τοῦ Χώματος, ἀναλκίδων πάντῃ καὶ ἀπειροπολέμων, καὶ
ξενικῶν τινῶν εὐαριθμήτων βαρβάρων τῶν ἐπὶ τοῦ δεξιοῦ εἰωθότων κραδαίνειν ὤμου τὸ ξίφος) μήτε
The patriarch of Antioch suggested that Alexios was responsible for such a
sad state of affairs and the ‘illness’ of the Empire, due to his disobedience
toward God and ill-treatment of his subjects.
Two times, again, Anna connected Alexios’ agency with the Divine
Providence, exclaiming that he will restore the Empire by ‘God’s aid’ (Θεοῦ
ἀρωγῇ), and that he was bestowed upon the supreme power due to Divine
Providence (Θεοῦ προνοίᾳ εἰς τὴν ἀυτοκράτορα περιωπὴν ἀνεβίβασεν). This
insistence on the ‘God-protected’ emperor was established against the
accusations that he was deprived of divine favour. However, that was just
a prelude to the ambitious project of typifying Alexios as a ruling model
by inducing a discourse about the New Constantine. It was a demanding
enterprise to ascribe the successes of the praised soldier emperors John
II and Manuel I to their predecessor Alexios I, whose greatest political
achievement was his son, John II Komnenos. He crushed the Pechenegs,
fought successfully at the Balkans, established control in the south-western
Asia Minor, and brought back Antioch under Byzantine suzerainty. All
these themes are to be found in the Alexiad, where the dominant place was
given to deceptive Normans and their snatching of Antioch. On the other
hand, one should not disregard the war against the Pechenegs to which two
books of the Alexiad are dedicated. It was certainly, as patriarch of Antioch
asserts, the most dangerous moment for the empire, because the City was
directly threatened. Notwithstanding the seriousness of that situation, the
voice of narrator is not panic-stricken at all. Yet, the conclusion of the war
against the Scyths/Pechenegs was modelled in encomiastic exhortation of
the authoress that alludes to the importance of the event. Theophylact of
Ochrid’s basilikos logos implies the same conclusion, since the contents of
the speech was focused on Alexios’ war against Pechenegs and Turks.25
Triumphant imagery that was employed in the Alexiad was significant trait
of the court and popular culture in the time of John II who reintroduced
the ceremony of triumph back again to the imperial court and the city of
Constantinople.26
On the occasion of the capture of Kastamon, Theodore Prodromos de-
livered an exceptional poem in political verse to celebrate the emperor’s
triumph. The triumphant emperor (τροπαιοφόρος, τροπαίουχος)27 was lauded
σωρῶν χρημάτων τοῖς περὶ τὰ βασίλεια ταμείοις έναποκειμένων, δι΄ὧν ξθμμαχίας τινὰς ἐξ ἀλλοδαπῶν
μετακαλέσοιτο’.
25 Theophylaktos, À Alexis Comnène, p. 97 sq.
26 Stanković, 2006, p. 214-215.
27 Theodoros Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, IV, p. 202 (29); p. 203 (73).
as a liberator and victorious emperor that had brought back glory to the
new Rome, fighting against the ‘Persians’.28
Prepare, o Godly emperor, the imperial city,

for a decent celebration of your contests,
cover all streets and gateways with gold
wreath the face of land with silk
and place yourself splendidly on your lofty lodge,
rise, if possible, Homer from Hades,
to sing of you, o emperor, with ten mouths.29
The speech of John the Oxite was composed and delivered in front of the
emperor in the moment when the City itself was threatened by the hordes of
Pechenegs.30 All this was a result of God’s wrath that fell upon the Empire, due to
Alexios’ faults. Every time Constantinople was found in a direct threat, serious
controversies aroused, and such huge crises always sought to find the culprits.
It is not surprising that Oxite recalled the image of the emperor Herakleios, who
saved the City only with God’s help.31 More than a historical figure, emperor
Herakleios was already a legendary emperor, whose magnificent salvation of
Constantinople, and the empire itself was in the course of six centuries filled
with Eusebian motives of God-protected ruler who attained historical victory
due to divine favour. To Herakleios was ascribed the finding of the True Cross,
which connected him directly with the emperor Constantine the Great and
his mother Helen. Anna Komnene used the same discursive pattern when she
crafted a picture of the ideal ruler, who was actually a juncture of Constantine
the Great and Herakleios. It is not hard to see similarity in Anna’s choice for the
title of her ‘history’ – Alexias – with the choice of George of Pisidia’s laudatory
epos on the emperor Herakleios and his exploits – Hrakleias.
The situation in the empire around the year 1091 was not cheerful at all.
John stated that Chios was taken, Mitylene was torn down, that Cyprus and
Crete – the main islands – defected, and the hordes of Scythians invaded
the West. He admitted that the emperor faced the enemy, but that these
encounters resulted ‘in the loss of most of his army, or even all soldiers at
a time’.32
28 Theodoros Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, IV, p. 201-202.

29 Theodoros Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, IV, p. 209; For the motive of Homer who should
be summoned to sing of emperor’s deeds see also in poem X, p. 254.
31 Diatribes, p. 45 (30.35).
Alexios’ campaigns from the Alexiad coincide with the aforementioned

observation. It is not rare to see his army defeated, and the emperor, accord-
ing to Homeric formula, ‘shedding bitter tears for his fallen soldiers’ (δάκρυα
θερμὰ ἐκχέων καὶ ὀνομαστὶ ἕκαστον καθαπερεὶ ἀπόδημον ἀνακαλουμενος).33
In the battles where he himself participated, Anna mended his defeats
through individual displays of the emperor’s bravery. Moreover, all Alexios’
setbacks on the field, defeats and political failures were soothed through
application and adaptation of the most illustrious war saga – Homer’s Iliad.
Anna’s rhetorical mastery reached its summit in her mimesis of the greatest
poet of all times.
Shaping the new Iliad
A statement that the Alexiad resounds boastfully with an echo from

Homer’s most renowned epic poem is not a revolutionary scholarly conclu-
sion at all, nor does such literary peculiarity present an intriguing and
surprising circumstance in the corpus of Byzantine literature.34 However,
placing a history under the headline ‘Alexiad’ is a strong discursive marker
of the epoch in which it emerged. It was a culture that engendered a reno-
vation of the studies on Homer, whose poems gave rhetors flamboyant
possibilities for enhancing the quality of their styles and asserting the
Hellenic identity of the Roman empire.35 For us, the most valuable source
for understanding the way in which Byzantines understood Homer’s
poems is unequivocally John Tzetzes work ‘Allegories of the Iliad’, which
was composed for the wife of the Emperor Manuel I, Eirene-Bertha, a
German princess, completely unfamiliar with the Greek culture. Because
of this, a thorough interpretation of the Iliad was commissioned, since
it was considered the foundational text of the Greek paideia. Although
its date of composition is unclear, it varies from the 1140s to 1150s which
corresponds with the period when the Alexiad was composed. Neverthe-
less, my reliance on this source for interpretation of the Alexiad does not
necessitate a congruent timeframe with its composition since it can be
considered a kind of instruction manual for reading and understanding
33 Alexias VIII 7,2 (42.43), p. 221.

34 Some recent analysis on the parallels between Homeric poems and the Alexiad – Dyck,
1986, p. 113-120; Reinsch, 1998, p. 63-74; Macrides, 2000, p. 67-70; Ljubarskij, 2000, p. 171-177.
35 For thorough analysis on the Hellenistic revival in the Komnenian epoch see Kaldellis,
2008, 225-316, esp. 241-256
the Iliad. Personally acquainted to Anna Komnene, John Tzetzes was an

influential intellectual and rhetor, whose texts could not have been left
unnoticed by Komnene.36 Upon reading Tzetzes interpretation of the
Iliad, one concludes that even more ambitious than the project of history
writing, was Anna’s enterprise of making a whole ‘new Iliad’, and placing
herself as a ‘new Homer’, a creator, poet, and a wonderful trickster. Homer
was without any doubt the canon that could not have been omitted in
the war saga such as Alexiad. Actually, Anna deployed the whole imagery
from Homer’s poems and cycles of pre-Homeric and post-Homeric works,
to refurbish the images of Alexios I Komnenos and of his not so illustrious
endeavours. According to Tzetzes:
Ὁ Ὅμηρος, ὡς χρονικὸς καὶ ‘Homer as a chronographer and writer

συγγραφεὺς τῶν τότε, of past events,
ἅπαν μὲν γράφει τὸ πραχθὲν καὶ τὸ writes everything that was done and
συμβὰν τῷ τὁτε happened then;
τὰ δέ γε περιπέζια καὶ τῶν turning lowly and simpler things
εὐτελεστέρων into more worthwhile and great
τρέπων ὡς πρὸς ἀξίωμα καὶ μέγεθος ones through words,
τοῦ λόγου he writes solemnly and skillfully, being
σεμνῶς συγγράφει καὶ δεινῶς, δεινὸς a skilful storyteller’.37
ὢν λογογράφος.
Tzetzes’ main task was to deconstruct all Homer’s allusions, to interpret his
allegories and strip the whole story from its decorations and embellishments
to ‘bare facts’, by explaining divine interventions through forces of nature,
and humans’ fortune that allegedly depended on the whims of gods, as
subordinated to the constellation of stars. To put it simple, according to the
Komnenian infatuation with the Zodiac, Tzetzes delivered custom interpre-
tation of the pagan gods and their actions – everything was enmeshed in
astrology, in the divine art of stargazing and understanding of the movement
of planets and the position of stars. It is both amusing and wonderful to
read Tzetzes’ interpretation of Achilles’ being born to the Goddess of the
sea as actually being born in the ‘sign of Acquarius’.38 However, apart from
36 One letter of John Tzetzes to Anna Komnene is preserved. For the short discussion see
Neville, 2016, p. 117.
37 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 192-193 (140.144).
38 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 336-337.
the actual interpretation of allegories, which is immensely important for

us, Tzetzes appraisal of Homer is essential:
Οὐδὲν ἀσκόπως Ὅμηρος ἄχρι ‘Homer writes nothing without consid-

τυχόντων γράφει eration, even the trifles;
ῥητόρων δὲ δεινότητι πάντα He writes everything with fitting rhe-
προσφόρως γράφει. torical skill’.39
Κἂν λέγων λέγειν οὐ δοκῇ, δεινὸς ὢν ‘Saying it without seeming to say it,
λογογράφος being a skilled writer’.40
Thus, the forefather of all paideia gave a plethora of elements for all future
logographers and historiographers, starting from the descriptions of bat-
tles, heroes and their bravery or cowardice, ill and good fortune that ruled
from beyond, the rewarding virtues or spiteful vices. Moreover, he gave
directions how to say ‘without seeming to say it’, which was a foundational
tenet of a rhetorical skill. Quite indicatively, Homer was lauded in Tzetzes’s
Allegories as a master of rhetoric, a poet that carefully manoeuvred his text
and weighed every word before he found its most suitable place. Anna’s
text should be read similarly, since her work aimed to be the second Iliad.
Anna’s lament over her father’s destiny and her sigh in the closing book
of her history that she should have delivered a monody instead of history,
coincides with the topics of the Iliad that is considered a ‘tale of woes’,
where as early as Demosthenes, a formula ‘Iliad of woes’ (Ἰλιάδα κακῶν)
was accommodated in the vocabulary register to denote great suffering.
Libanius explains this notion:
When the name of Troy comes to men’s ears, it comes bringing despon
dency with it; for when the name is mentioned it calls to mind a great
number of disasters (ῥηθὲν γὰρ τοὔνομα συμφορῶν πλήθους ἀναμιμνήσκει
καὶ δὴ ὅστις βούλεται μέγα σημῆναι πάθος). 41
Thus, allegorised, the name of Anna’s work signifies the ‘Iliad of Alexios’
woes’, and the audience should be prepared in advance to face a long and

40 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 316-317 (387).
41 Libanius, Progymnasmata, p. 276-277.
exhausting narrative on war battles in which both sides suffered immensely

and many of their heroes died. That is precisely what we encounter in
the greatest part of Anna’s narrative – battle scenes, vocabulary, register
and motives are taken from the Iliad to tell the story of the greatest hero
– Alexios I Komnenos. As the story of Iliad finishes with Andromache’s
lament over the fallen Hector in the poem 24, thus the Book XV of the
Alexiad f inishes with Anna Komnene’s cry over the loss of Alexios in
chapter 24.
The longest consistent narrative in the Alexiad is a war against the
Normans Robert Guiscard and his son Bohemond. It is a central theme of
the history and a main war in the history of Alexios’ deeds, which was oc-
casionally interrupted by other conflicts or internal tumults. The story about
the Normans was extended to the story about Crusaders. Among crusading
leaders, Alexios’ biggest problem was, again, one Norman – Bohemond. He
was disobedient toward Alexios and snatched Antioch. Thus, the problem of
Antioch became the most important ‘eastern question’ for the Komnenians,
but it was not resolved by Alexios I Komnenos. Only seemingly, Alexios
succeeded in bringing Bohemond under his suzerainty, wherefore the text of
the Devol treaty of 1107 was incorporated verbatim in the Alexiad. However,
Anna did not omit that Alexios’ efforts very soon proved futile ‘due to the
stupidity of his successors to the throne’. 42 This blatant attack on John II
and Manuel I is probably one of the most interesting personal references
of Anna Komnene that clearly indicates the aim of her work – she tried
to rewrite the history of her father’s deeds by ascribing successes of his
successors to Alexios.
The story of the Norman war starts in the Book I, where Anna introduces
the preceding events and characters. This book reveals the main reason for
war (τοῦ πολέμου πρόφασιν). Anna delivers a story about Helen, daughter
of Rober Gusicard that was supposed to be married to the imperial house
of the Doukai. A serious setback in the marriage negotiations between
the Norman leader and the Roman emperor was caused by the accession
of the rebel Nikephoros Botaneiates who forced Michael VII to abdicate.
Thus, Robert Guiscard launched a war against Roman Empire because of
the injustice (ἀδικία) that his daughter Helen suffered, which infuriated
(ἐξώργισεν) the Norman leader. Although Anna stressed that this was just
an excuse for him, she repeated the story of Helen at the beginning of Book
IV, when the operations actually started:
42 Alexias, XIII 3,9 (42.43), p. 438.

You know the wrong done by the Emperor Nicephorus Botaniates to my

father-in-law [Michael VII, L.V.], and the disgrace (ἀτιμίαν) suffered by
my daughter Helena when she was thrown out of the Palace with him.
Finding this intolerable, we have left our country to avenge the insult and
punish Botaneiates. But he has been deprived of his throne and now we
have to deal with a young emperor and a brave soldier, who has acquired
an experience of the military art beyond his years; we must not take up
his challenge in a light-hearted manner. 43
Achilles’ fight with Agamemnon was caused by his loss of status. 44 When
he lost his war trophy, he was dishonoured (ἄτιμος). 45 Homer’s epic poem,
as already stressed, starts with the wrath caused by a loss of status. 46 In a
similar way, Guiscard’s loss of a status of the imperial ‘in-law’ induced him
to launch a war against his wrongdoers:
Botaneitates had separated Robert’s daughter from her future husband

Constantine […] and had stolen from him, the imperial crown. Rob-
ert, therefore, because of this injustice, was preparing vengeance’ (ὡς
ἠδικηκότος πρὸς ἄμυναν αὐτὸς ἐυτρεπίζοιτο). 47
The advent of the Norman army across the sea was suitably used to add a
Homeric flavour to the narrative where the Greek army crossed the sea to
reach the Troy:
Without delay wooden towers were constructed in the larger vessels and
covered with leather hides; everything essential for a siege was hastily
put on board the ships; horses and armed knights embarked on dromons;
and when military supplies from all quarters had been made ready with
extraordinary rapidity, Robert was anxious to make the crossing at once.
(πάντοθεν τὰ πρὸς πόλεμον ὀξέως μάλα ἐξαρτύσας διαπερὰν ἠπείγετο). 48
Alexios was already informed about the ‘immeasurable forces that Robert
had gathered’ (ὡς ἀπειροπληθεῖς συναγηοχως δυνάμεις)49 . Upon crossing
43 Alexiad, p. 144-145; Alexias, IV 5,5 (36.37), p. 130.

44 Fineberg, 1999, p. 13.
45 Homer, Iliad, 1.171.
46 Fineberg, 1999, p. 193.
47 Alexiad, p. 67, Alexias, I 15,2 (63.64), p.49.
48 Alexiad, p. 131, Alexias, III 12,2 (17.22), p.117.
49 Alexias, III 11,5 (86), p. 116.
the sea, he joined forces with his son Bohemond, ‘who had crossed before
him and had captured Avlona without difficulty’ (προφθάσαντος περάσαι
καὶ τὸν Αὐλῶνα ἐξ ἐφοδοὺ κατασχεῖν)50. The Normans’ first operations were
concentrated on the stronghold of Dyrrachion where the first great battle
took place. We will see, as the narrative advances, that the goal of the Norman
army was Constantinople – then Troy. However, the first phases of this
great war have their literary underpinning in the Acheians’ ‘pillaging of
the Trojan countryside,’ and in the fight against all Trojan allies. Tzetzes
explains in his Allegories a situation before the great quarrel between
Achilles and Agamemnon:
Ὁ δ’Ἀχιλεύς, ὡς ἔφημεν, μετὰ τοῦ ‘Achilles and Palamedes, as we have

Παλαμήδους said,
Λεηλατῶν τὰς χώρας μέν, τὰς πόλεις plundering the countryside and de-
κατασκάπτων stroying the cities,
Οἰκείᾳ ῥώμῃ χρώμενος, βούλαῖς δὲ making use of Achille’s might and
Παλαμήδους Palamedes’ counsel,
Εἴκοσι τρεῖς ἐπόρθησε πόλεις sacked twenty-three cities allied to the
συμμάχους Τρώων. Trojans’.51
Closest to this image was Bohemond, ‘who was outstanding as a besieger of

cities, surpassing even the famous Demetrios Poliorcetes.’52 He stormed the
Byzantine cities and pillaged the countryside, before heading to the main
stronghold. Unquestionably, he was constructed as the greatest hero and,
thus, Alexios most dangerous foe. Scholars have recognised similarities
between Alexios and Odysseus.53 In this sense, Libanius’ estimate of both
heroes could be very useful for our understanding of their characterization in
the Alexiad where ‘Achilles was great in arms, but Odysseus in intelligence.’
Even more important is Libanius’ conclusion that Odysseus’ virtue was more
important than Achilles’, since ‘everything noble that was accomplished at
Troy was accomplished through Odysseus, who kept the Greeks in the war
right up to the end. […] Moreover, he was more fortunate than those who
did not return.’54 Indeed, on many occasions Alexios needed to turn to his
50 Alexias, III 12,3 (33), p. 117.

51 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p.66-67 (888.891).
52 Alexiad, p. 393; Alexias, XII 9,3 (79.81), p. 392.
53 Macrides, 2000, p. 68-69; Neville, 2012, p. 189-190.
54 Libanius, Progymnasmata, p. 218-219: ‘μέγας ἦν Ἀχιλλεὺς ἐν ὅπλοις, ὁ δὲ ἐν συνέσει. τοῦτο
δὲ ἰσχυρότερον ἐκεινου. ὅλως δὲ ὁ τι πέπρακται ἐπὶ Τροίας γενναῖον, δι’Ὀδυσσέως πέπρακται τοῦ
κατασχόντας τοὺς Ἕλληνας ἐπὶ τοῦ πολέμου μέχρι τέλους’.
intelligence to outwit the enemy. It was, undoubtedly, his greatest stratagem.

The final clash between Alexios and Bohemond displayed precisely this
kind of agency, where Anna delivered a short exposé in his defence:
Bohemond, the emperor knew, was a man of great cunning and energy
(ἄνδρα πονηρίας καὶ δραστηριότητος ἀνάπλεων), and although he was
prepared to meet him face to face in battle, as indeed I have said, he
was perpetually seeking ways and means of dealing with him which
were entirely different (δι’ἑτέρου παντὸς τρόπου καὶ μηχανῆς) μεθόδου
καταγωνίσασθαι τοῦτον ἔσπευδε). For reasons already mentioned, despite
the fact that he was most impatient for war – my father loved danger
and had long experience of it (φιλοκίνδυνός τε καὶ πυκνοκίνδυνος) – he
acknowledged the rule of reason in everything and his desire was to
conquer Bohemond by another method. The general (I think) should
not invariably seek victory by drawing the sword (διὰ ξιφουλκίας); there
are times when he should be prepared to use f inesse (ἀλλὰ καὶ πρός
πανουργίαν); if the opportunity occurs and events allow it, and so achieve
a complete triumph. So far as we know, a general’s supreme task is to win,
not merely by force of arms, but also by relying on treaties, and there
is another way – sometimes, when the chance offers itself, an enemy
can be beaten by fraud (ῥᾳδιουργούντων τὸν ἐχθρὸν καταγωνίζεςθαι). The
emperor seems to have employed fraud on this occasion (ὁποῖον καὶ τότε
ὁ αὐτοκράτωρ φαίνεται σκευωρήσας).55
Anna’s manner is clear – each time she needed to support her argument
she resorted to the rich resources of Homer’s discursive register. Homer’s
characters all had their virtues and flaws, showing courage and cowardice,
temperance and anger. Yet, there is one peculiarity of this whole episode that
calls for attention. A story delivered in Tzetzes’ Allegories of the Iliad about
Odysseus treacherous plan against Palamedes bears important similarities.
Firstly, one should consider that in Tzetzes’ exegesis of the Iliad, Odysseus
does not appear praiseworthy at all, and especially when it comes to devices
that he used to neutralise his competitors. ‘The treacherous Odysseus’ (ὁ
δολερός/ ὁ δὀλιος ἀνὴρ) devised a plan – ‘Εγὼ φροντίσω μηχναῖς’ – to kill the
most noble Palamedes. He did that through forging the letters that came
from Troy as if they were letters from ‘Priam to Palamedes himself.’56 This
was exactly Alexios’ μηχανή against Bohemond – to sow discord between
55 Alexiad, p. 405; Alexias, XIII 4,3 (49.58), p. 395.

Bohemond and his allies by forging the letters.57 It is hard to tell in which
way we should interpret these allusions. It is certain that Anna understood
the fallacy of this means in fighting a war, wherefore she delivered an ex-
planation of Alexios’ contrivance. Yet, on the level of comparison between
Alexios and Odysseus one should be very careful in making a positive
inference. It is clear from Tzetzes’ explanation that Odysseus could not have
been unanimously praised. Maybe because of that reason we do not have
an actual and blatant comparison between Alexios and Odysseus – only
allusions. On the other hand, the only hero to whom Alexios was directly
connected was Herakles. And this comparison bears significant discursive
markers that will be discussed a bit later.
Nevertheless, the most controversial hero was certainly Achilles, whose
character delivered an inexhaustible narrative landscape for depiction of a
warrior such as Bohemond. He was almost unsurpassed on the battlefield.
His dazzling appearance, which is probably one of the best-known passages
of the Alexiad, is weaved precisely according to the canon established in
the Iliad:
Bohemond appearance was, to put it briefly, unlike that of any other

man seen in those days in the Roman world, whether Greek or barbarian.
The sight of his inspired admiration, the mention of his name terror.
[…] His stature was such that he towered almost a full cubit over the
tallest men. He was slender of waist and flanks, with broad shoulders
and chest, strong in the arms; in general he was neither taper or firm, nor
heavily built and fleshy, but perfectly proportioned – one might say that
he conformed to the Polyclitean ideal. […] The skin all over his body was
very white, except for his face which was both white and red. His hair
was lightish-brown. […] His eyes were light blue and gave some hint of
the man’s spirit and dignity. […] Even his laugh sounded like a threat to
others. Such was his constitution, mental and physical, that in him both
courage and love were armed, both ready for combat. His arrogance was
everywhere manifest; he was cunning too, taking refuge quickly in any
opportunism. His words were carefully phrased and the replies he have
were regularly ambiguous. Only one man, the emperor, could defeat an
adversary of such character, and adversary as great as Bohemond; he did
57 Alexias, XIII 4,5 (76.80), p. 395-396.

it through luck, through eloquence, and through advantages that Nature

had given him.58
Ὁ Ἀχιλεύς μακροσκελής, ὑπόσπανος Achilles was long-limbed, thin,

ὑπῆρχε, Pale, with thick blond curly hair and
Λεύκος, ξανθόθριξ καὶ σγουρός, a long nose, with feminine features,
δασύθριξ καὶ μακρόρριν, cheerful, with darting eyes,
Γυναικοπρόσωπος, φαιδρός, καὶ τῶν Swift of foot, sweet voiced, bitter-
γρηγοροφθάλμων, hearted, irascible.59
Ταχυδρομῶν, γλυκύφωνος,
πικρόθυμος, ὀργίλος.
Achilles was ‘far the mightiest’60 and no one surpassed him in beauty.61 The
same kind of hero is presented in this image of Bohemond, whom ‘even the
famous Argonauts would have feared’.62 Only through application of this
discursive model could Anna made Alexios’ taming of this exceptional
warrior a pinnacle of his war deeds. But it is not that just Bohemond was
depicted as a Homeric hero. The whole narrative scene is adapted from
the Iliad, where we see many battles of various prominent warriors, in
which they feature as Teucer, Ajax, Diomedes, Patroklus or Hector. One of
the most picturesque mimeses of the battles from the Iliad is the battle of
Dyrrachion in the Book IV, between forces of Robert Guiscard and Alexios
Komnenos. Presentation of Alexios’ troops was delivered in a habitual
manner where the commanders, were ‘appointed from the bravest of his
officers’ (ἄνδρας γενναιοτάτους): Nikolas Branas, ‘a man of courage with
considerable experience in war’ (ἄνδρα γενναῖον καὶ πολλὴν περὶ τὰ πολεμικὰ
εμπειρίαν ἔχοντα), and Tatikios ‘a valiant fighter, a man who kept his head
under combat conditions, but his family was not free-born.’(γενναιότατος
ὢν καὶ ἀκατάπληκτος ἐν μάχαις, οὐκ ἐλευθέρας μὲν ὢν τύχης ἐκ προγόνων).
Apart from them there was Constantine Opus, who commanded the corpus
of ‘excubitae’, Antiochus who led Macedonians, and Alexander Cabasilas
Thesallians – they were all ‘excellent fighters ready to draw blood of their en-
emies when the opportunity occurred […] headstrong and devoid of shame.’
(ἄνδρες ἅπαντες οὗτοι μαχιμώτατοι καὶ αἵματος ἀπογεύσασθαι τῶν ἐχθρῶν καιροῦ
58 Alexiad, p. 422-423.
61 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 53 (685).
62 Alexiad, p. 392, Alexias XII 9,1 (63.64), p. 381.
καλοῦντος ἑτοιμότατοι καὶ πρός γε ἔτι καὶ ἰταμοὶ καὶ ἀναίσχυντοι).63 One of the
most renowned fighters is certainly George Palaiologos on whose personal
bravery narrative focuses:
Robert had moved all the machines required for the siege near to the
walls, but Palaiologos, after working night and day to oppose his helepoleis
and frustrate with his schemes, had at last grown weary of this; he had
thrown open the gates, gone out and fought a determined battle with the
enemy. He had suffered serious wounds in different parts of his body; the
worst was when an arrow penetrated near his temple. He tried to draw
it out forcibly, but was unable to do it. An expert was summoned and he
cut away the end – the butt where the feathers are attached – but the
rest remained in the wound. Palaiologos bound up his head as far as he
could, and hurled himself again into the midst of the foe, fighting on till
late evening without flinching.64
His direct clash with Robert could have been fatal for Paleologos. His
wounding recalled to memory the story of the wounding of the greatest
Trojan hero, Hector, by mighty Ajax, where the ‘experts’, that is, gods, were
summoned to ‘breathe strength into him again’:
Ἕκτορα δ᾽ ἐν πεδίῳ ἴδε κείμενον, ἀμφὶ And Hector he saw lying on the plain,
δ᾽ ἑταῖροι εἵαθ᾽ , ὃ δ᾽ ἀργαλέῳ ἔχετ᾽ while about him sat his comrades, and
ἄσθματι κῆρ ἀπινύσσων αἷμ᾽ ἐμέων, he was gasping with painful breath,
ἐπεὶ οὔ μιν ἀφαυρότατος βάλ᾽ Ἀχαιῶν. distraught in mind, and vomiting blood;
Ἕκτορα δ᾽ ὀτρύνῃσι μάχην ἐς Φοῖβος for not the weakest of the Achaeans
Ἀπόλλων, αὖτις δ᾽ ἐμπνεύσῃσι was it that had smitten him.65
μένος, λελάθῃ δ᾽ ὀδυνάων αἳ νῦν μιν But let Phoebus Apollo rouse Hector
τείρουσι κατὰ φρένας, αὐτὰρ Ἀχαιοὺς to the fight, and breathe strength into
αὖτις ἀποστρέψῃσιν ἀνάλκιδα φύζαν him again, and make him forget the
ἐνόρσας, φεύγοντες δ᾽ ἐν νηυσὶ pains that now distress his heart; and
πολυκλήϊσι πέσωσι let him drive the Achaeans back once
more, when he has roused in them
craven panic.66
63 Alexiad, p. 140-141; Alexias IV 4,1-4, p. 126-127.

64 Alexiad, p.142; Alexias IV 4,4 (31.40), p. 127.
Both heroes recovered from their serious wounding and continued their
fights immediately. A direct clash between two armies was followed by
another allusion from the Iliad where Gaita, a wife of Robert Guiscard,
infuriated, summoned back the fleeing army – “How far will you run? Halt!
Be men!” (“μέχρι πόσου φεύξεσθε; στῆτε, άνέρες ἐστέ”). A famous exhortation
of Atreides (ὦ φίλοι ἀνέρες ἔστε καὶ ἄλκιμον ἦτορ ἕλεσθε)67 and Hector (ἀνέρες
ἔστε φίλοι μνήσασθε δὲ θούριδος ἀλκῆς )68 was ascribed to a female warrior
which is one of gendered peculiarities of Anna’s narrative. Her play on
words is amusingly ironic – a woman acted as a man in front of men that
acted as women. Customary to Anna’s style of creating women characters
with gender transgressive behaviour, Gaita was suitably and expectedly
compared to goddess Athena – ’like another Pallas if not second Athena,
seeing the runaways and glaring fiercely at them’ – she took the role of Zeus’
daughter who protected Achaeans in the Trojan war’.
The battle finished with Robert’s victory: ‘he pushed back the Roman
line, in many places tearing it apart’. The defeat of the Roman army was
mitigated through display of Alexios’ bravery in a single combat with the
three Latins:
Pursued by enemies from behind and confronted by others, Alexios

despaired of his life; but he gathered his wits and noting in the centre of
his enemies one man who, from his physical appearance and the flashing
brightness of his armour, he thought was Robert, he steadied his horse
and charged at him. His opponent also leveled his spear and they both
advanced across the intervening space to do battle. The emperor was first
to strike, taking careful aim with his spear (τὴν χεῖρα παίει τοῦτον διὰ τοῦ
δόρατος). The weapon pierced the Kelt’s breast and passed through his back.
Straightway he fell to the ground mortally wounded, and died on the spot.
[…] The killing of this barbarian had saved him. […] for although he was
not Robert, he was a distinguished noble, and Robert’s right-hand man.
While they busied themselves over him, the emperor was well on his way.69
In a clear Homeric imagery of a heroic spear-fighting duel, echoes a battle

between Hector and Patroclus, where the Trojan hero believed he was
fighting against Achilles. Anna Komnene’s addition – Alexios fighting
against the man he thought was Guiscard – was certainly f ictional, as

69 Alexiad, p. 150-151; Alexias, IV 7, 4-5 (55.71), p. 138.
probably the whole passage about Alexios’ direct clash with the enemy. It
served to glorify Alexios’ defeat, and was quite often used by Komnene for
the descriptions of Alexios’ mischiefs. After this passage we encounter one
of typical metanarrative excurses on the plausibility of her descriptions:
In the course of this account, partly because of the nature of the history
and partly because of the great importance of these events, I have forgot-
ten that it is my father whose successes I am writing of. Often, in my
desire not to incur suspicion, in the composition of history I hurry over
affairs that concern him, neither exaggerating nor adding my personal
observations. I wish I were detached and free from this feeling that I
have for him, so that seizing on this vast material I might demonstrate
how much my tongue, when released from all restraint, could delight in
noble deeds. But the natural love I have for him overshadows my personal
wishes: I would not like the public to imagine that I am inventing marvels
in my eagerness to speak about my own family. On many occasions when
I recalled the glorious deeds of my father, if I had written down and given
a full account of all the troubles he endured, I would have wept away my
very soul, and I could not have passed over the story without lamentation
and mourning. But so far as that part of my history concerned, I must
avoid the subtleties of rhetoric, and like some unfeeling adamant or
marble pass quickly over his misfortunes. If I wanted to win a deserved
reputation for loving him, I should have included his disasters in an oath,
like the young man in Homer’s Odyssey who swore: “No, Agelaos, by Zeus
and my father’s woes.” For I am certainly no worse than that young man.
But now we must leave my father’s suffering; I alone must marvel at them
and weep, but the reader must return to the narrative.70
Anna’s deliberation on the nature of history is not coincidentally placed

after the passage on the display of Alexios’ bravery. It is more reasonable
to conclude that she was indeed ‘inventing marvels’ and ask whether any
of such glorious deeds and successes she claims to write about actually
took place. The employed ‘subtleties of rhetoric’ are also apparent and
Anna’s exaggerations are glaring. She resorted to these literary measures
when she was dealing particularly with the Norman war, which was not
commendable for the emperor she was writing about, in order ‘to turn lowly
and simpler things into more worthwhile and great ones through words’,
just as Homer, a ‘skilled rhetor,’ did. First great battles were actually Norman
70 Alexiad, p. 151-152.
victories, where Anna again resorted to the individual acts of bravery of

her protagonists, adding Homeric imagery. The warriors were inspired and
favoured by the God of war, Ares (ἀρηΐφιλος, καὶ Ἄρεως ὑπασπιστὰς ἅπαντας),
and the dominant motives were anger (θυμός), as the driving force of the
battles, and blood (αἷμα) as a vivid display of the war sufferings. Actually,
four resounding words of the Trojan war are Ares (Ἄρες), battle (μάχη),
spear (δόρυ) and anger (θυμός).Tzetzes explanation of the Ares’ intervention
in the war summarises crucial motives:
ὑπὸ Πατρόκλῳ ἔκτεινεν ὁ πόλεμος Ares killed him by the hand of Patroklos
ἐκεῖνον That is, the war killed him through
ἤτοι ἐκτάνθη Σαρπηδὼν ἐν μάχῃ τῷ Patroklos
Πατρόκλῳ That is, Ares, and anger, killed him
εἴτουν ὁ Ἄρης, καὶ θυμός, κτείνει through Patroklos
Πατρόκλῳ τοῦτον, Which means that Patroklos killed him
ἤτοι θυμούμενον αὐτὸν ὁ Πάτροκλος when he was angry,
ἀνεῖλεν, Or Sarpedon, as a result of his own
ἢ τᾤ θυμῷ τῷ ἑαυτοῦ ὁ Σαρπηδὼν καὶ anger and Daring,
τόλμῃ Attacking overly bravely, was killed by
ὁρμήσας γενναιότερον ἀνῄρηται Patroklos
Πατρόκλῳ Or Ares, and iron, the spear of Pa-
ἢ Ἄρης, καὶ ὁ σίδηρος, τὸ δόρυ τοῦ troklos
Πατρόκλου Killed Sarpedon.71
τὸν Σαρπηδόνα ἔκτεινεν.
The Iliad is considered a poem of wrath, and Achilles, who embodies the
ethos of this epic poem, is characterised mostly by his implacable wrath.72
The words denoting anger – θυμός, κότος, μῆνις, χόλος – are found in the
Iliad 114 times.73 But especially the word θυμός has a very specific meaning
that does not always directly refer to anger, but to the physical forces to
which, apart from other emotions, pertains also wrath.74 Sometimes, this
word is tightly connected with the notion of honour ‘τιμή’.75 A complicated
problematic of the anger in Homer’s epic poem is important for us since it
certainly presents one of the crucial tenets of the literary character of this

72 Braund-Most, 2003, p. 54.
73 Braund-Most, 2003, p. 51.
74 Braund-Most, 2003, p. 21.
75 Idem.
poem. In a similar fashion, the word θυμός is applied by Anna Komnene in her
discursive register for a physical force that moves her characters into action.
The two most dominant words for anger to be found in the Alexiad are
θυμός and μῆνις. By its presence in the text – it is used 47 times – θυμός eclipses
the μῆνις. Its meaning varies, but most commonly is used in formulas ‘filled
with anger’ (‘θυμοῦ πλησθεὶς’ and ‘πλήρης θυμοῦ’) as a driving force in war
clashes. This formula is present in the text roughly nine times, of which
four times is used in reference to Alexios, when he was ‘forced by anger’ or
by ‘war spirit’ to confront the enemy – ‘Ὁ δὲ αὐτοκράτωρ, πλήρης θυμοῦ καὶ
φρονήματος ὤν, λύων τὸν ἱμάντα τοῦ ὑποδήματος· “Πρὸς ἄριστον, ἔφη, τὸ παρὸν
τραπώμεθα· τὰ δέ γε κατὰ τὸν Βαϊμοῦντον αὖθις κατασκεψόμεθα”’.76
This sentence is placed at the end of the Book XII, before the beginning of
Alexios’ final clash with Bohemond. These formulas are concentrated in the
books XI-XIII in the encounters between Alexios and Bohemond, where both
sides were moved to action by ‘anger’. Thus, a completely Homeric flavour
was added to the fight against the Normans and Crusaders. One of the vivid
reproductions from the Iliad was Bryennios’ clash on the Constantinopolitan
walls with the Crusaders.77 Fascinating portraits of both Robert Gusicard,
and his son Bohemond served to introduce the scenes from the Iliad in
which both sides had great heroes. Due to the enemy’s might, the fight was
long-lasting and exhausting. Everything started only allegedly due to the
issue of Helen, but very soon her cause was abandoned and the war was
continued due to lust for power (φιλαρχία).
Homeric backdrop of the anger, which was provoked by an insult and thus
presented a mode in which the repercussion was conducted,78 underpins the
beginning of the Norman war. Guscard was moved by anger (χόλος), wrath
(θυμός) and rage (ὀργή) – ‘ἦν γὰρ ὁ Ῥομπέρτος οὗτος τἆλλα μὲν εὐψυχότατός
τε καὶ φιλοκινδυνότατος, πικρίας δὲ ὅλος ἄνθρωπος καὶ ἐν ῥισὶν ἐπικαθήμενον
ἔχων τὸν χόλον καὶ τὴν καρδίαν μεστὴν θυμοῦ καὶ ὀργῆς ἔμπλεων καὶ οὕτως ἔχων
περὶ τοὺς πολεμίους.’79 In addition, Bohemond’s driving force was μῆνις – ‘ὁ
Βαιμοῦντος παλαιὰν μῆνιν κατὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος τρέφοντες.’80 Thus, Alexios’
two main antagonists are driven by the wrath and an ‘insult’ that was not
made directly by the emperor.
76 Alexias, XII 9,7 (39.41), p. 383.

77 Alexias, X 9,8, p. 312
78 Braund-Most, 2003, p. 19. The causal relationship between anger and retribution was discussed
by Aristotle who considered revenge the most important part of the anger. idem, p. 100.
79 Alexias, IV 8,2 (97.5), p. 139.
80 Alexias, X 9,1 (64.65), p. 309.
Blood also presents a very important motif in the Iliad. Its meaning
varies from the ‘bloodshed’ as the discursive marker of a heroic vigour,
to ‘bloodbath’, as a descriptive indicator of a slaughter. Thirst for blood
is a driving force that moves Ares, and defines him.81 Two words tightly
connected with the blood were gore (λύθρον) and slaughter (φόνος). All these
motives we encounter in the Alexiad in various meanings:
– as a description of the war virtue and bellicosity, mostly deployed in
combination with the sword and the allusion on the ‘sword stained with
blood’. Alexios’ pugnacity was described through formula of ‘sword and
blood’ and his readiness to ‘plunge his sword into the blood’ (τὸ ξίφος
αὐτοῦ μεθύσει ἀφ’αἵματος· οὕτως ἦν φιλοπόλεμος ὁ νεανίσκος). 82 Αlso,
Alexios’ heroism was presented through formula of the ‘sword heated
with blood’ (τὸ ξίφος θερμὸν ἀπὸ τοῦ αἵματος). The first clashes between
Romans and Normans were set in the scene of the warriors ‘ready to
taste the blood of their enemies’ (ἄνδρες ἅπαντες οὗτοι μαχιμώτατοι καὶ
αἵματος ἀπογεύεσθαι τῶν ἐχθρῶν καιροῦ καλοῦντος ἑτοιμότατοι καὶ πρός
γε ἔτι καὶ ἰταμοὶ καὶ ἀναίσχυντοι).83
– as an indicator of the battle wound. In the Iliad, the mention of blood
was firstly connected with the wounds earned in battles, as a visual
metaphor for the heroic fame. The greatest heroes of the Iliad spill their
blood even when their wounds are not fatal – Agamemnon, Diomedes,
Glaukos, Hector, Menelaos, Odysseus and Achilles.84 In the same manner
we encounter Alexios’, covered with his own blood, in a very similar
scene that we saw before – again, a great defeat of his army was shrouded
in the story of his personal bravery and individual clash with the foe:
The battle was not yet finished when three Latins, seeing the emperor still
holding out against the enemy, detached themselves from the rest and bore
down on him at full gallop with long spears at the ready. […] The third aimed
a blow directly at the emperor’s forehead […] The sword point just grazed
his skin, immediately causing a slight cut, but was impeded by the rim of
his helmet. It cut through leather strap which fastened under his chin and
knocked the helmet to the ground. […] But Alexios drew himself upright
and sat firmly in the saddle, with all his arms intact. In his right hand he
held his unsheathed sword. He was [covered with his own blood, L.V.], (Ἀλλὰ
81 Neal, 2006, p. 33.

82 cf. Magdalino, 1996, p. 420.
83 Alexias, IV 4,3 (22.24), p. 127.
84 Neal, 2006, p. 20.
καὶ γυμνὸν τὸ ξίφος κατέχων τῇ δεξιᾷ, τῷ δὲ λύθρῳ τοῦ ἰδίου πεφοινιγμένος

αἵματος καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν ἀπερικάλυπτονἔχων καὶ τὴν πυρσὴν καὶ ἡλιῶσαν
κόμην περιπλανωμένην ταῖς ὄψεσι καὶ διοχλοῦσαν αὐτόν) bareheaded, with
his bright red hair straggling in front of his eyes and annoying him.85
It was also used to describe one’s atrocity, and thus, was suitably apportioned
to Robert Guiscard who was created as the arch-enemy. Anna’s invective
against him starts with the premise that the ‘very beginning of his life was
filled with bloodshed and many murders’ (καὶ τὰ προοίμια τοῦ βίου τούτῳ
αἱμάτων ἦσαν ἐκχύσεις καὶ ἀνδροφονίαι πολλαὶ).86
One of the very important discursive markers that echoes the siege of
Troy, is a fear for the imperial capital that is featured in this story in the
same role as Troy. Anna states that Bohemond’s main goal was actually
Constantinople. The most intense moment is the arrival of the Crusader’s
army before Constantinopolitan walls. Precisely these clashes – between
Romans and Crusaders – brought again to the fore Homeric imagery, with
Nikephoros Bryennios starring in the main role. Even more impressive is
Bohemond’s exhortation at the very end of Book XI that presents an effective
overture to the final clash of the two heroes of the Alexiad:
If I reach Italy and cast eyes on the Lombards and all the Latins and
the Germans and our own Franks, men full of martial valour (ἄνδρας
Ἄρεως μνήμονας), then I will fill your lands and cities with many murders
and blood (πολλῶν φόνων καὶ πολλῶν αἱμάτων τὰς σὰς ἐμπλήσω καὶ πόλεις
καὶ χώρας), until I set up my spear in Byzantium itself (ἕως ἂν ἐπ’αὐτοῦ
Βυζαντίου τὸ δόρυ πηξαίμην).87
The role of gods and dependence of heroes’ fate on the will of the Destiny
(εἱμαρμένη) is not omitted from Anna’s narration, although the divine
intervention is mostly reduced to existence or non-eixtence of the Good
Fortune (τύχη). However, most of the battles are preceded or followed by
deliberations about the disposition of the Fortune towards protagonists.
Robert Guiscard’s crossing of the sea was described through this motive:
Robert had actually passed Corfu and altered course for Dyrrachium when,
off a promontory called Glossa, he was suddenly struck by a tremendous
85 Alexiad, p. 148-149; Alexias, IV 6,8 (79.84), p. 135.

86 Alexias, I 11,1 (62.63), p. 36.
87 Alexiad, p. 368; Alexias, XI 12,6 (77.81), p. 358.
storm. There was a heavy fall of snow and winds blowing furiously from
mountains lashed up the sea. There was a howling noise as the waves
built up; oars snapped off as the rowers plunged them into the water, the
sails were torn to shreds by blasts, yard-arms were crushed and fell on the
decks; and now ships were swallowed up, crew and all. And yet it was a
summer season; the sun had already passed the Tropic of Cancer and was
on its way to the Lion – the season when the Dog-Star rises, so they say.
[…] A terrible cry arose as they groaned and lamented, calling on God,
imploring his aid and praying that they might see the mainland. But the
tempest did not die down, as if God were venting his wrath on Robert
for the unyielding, presumptuous arrogance of the man as if He were
showing by a sign at the very outset that the end would be disastrous. […]
For a few had been rescued from danger by the invincible might of God.88
To a 12th century reader of the Alexiad, this dramatic scene of the ‘God’s
wrath’ personified in the rising of the tempestuous sea immediately echoed
the imagery from the Iliad, where ‘Hera’s speech and Poseidon’s sighing
signify the movement of the winds and the roar of the sea’,89 or ‘Poseidon
talking to Zeus’, is a symbol for thunder ‘created by the rain and wind’.90
By this literary technique, Anna elevated ‘simple things’ to glorious
episodes from the Iliad, thus, set the scene for Alexios’ tale of woes, in which
her audience would enjoy greatly. However, it was not just for entertain-
ment of the readership. Anna’s application of the Homeric discourse sought
to uphold and intensify the image of the emperor soldier Alexios, whose
war deeds would not have been at all so marvellous had not Anna culled
from Homer. He was the arch-model for all Komnenian rhetors who were
refashioning motives from his epic poems to create an impressive image
of the new hero-emperor. Nevertheless, while the rhetors composed only
poems, Anna created the completely new Iliad.
The matching example behind Alexios’ characterization in the Alexiad
was found in Odysseus. As I have already stressed, there were some peculiari-
ties in Anna’s pen-portrayal of Alexios that display striking similarities with
Odysseus, yet, when deliberating about this particular synkrisis, one should
pay attention to its interpretation. Tzetzes did not refrain from blaming him
openly as a coward and unscrupulous deceiver. What is even more important
is that his work was supposed to be a basic introduction to Iliad. His work
88 Alexiad, p. 132.
89 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 189 (84.85).
90 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 179 (123.124).
is immensely significant for its pre-Homeric circles of stories that preceded

the events described in the Iliad. One other source from Komnenian epoch
provides us with a notion on how Odysseus was perceived and interpreted
to the students. Nikephoros Basilakes, in his progymnasmata, as example
for prose composition delivered a story about Odysseus’ trickery he had
contrived in order to avoid going to war. Once again, he was described a
coward – καὶ δειλός εἶναι λαθεῖν περιώμενος, εἰς μανίαν ἐξέπιπτεν.91 As we
already know, not any hero from the Trojan war or the cycle preceding it was
unanimously positive or negative. Two of the most lauded heroes – Achilles
and Odysseus – are both famous for their unwillingness to go to Trojan
war.92 Especially Achilles’ example is interesting, because it was touched
upon by Tzetzes also, with one significant difference – he explained the
whole story through allegory and exculpated Achilles.93 Precisely because
of this contested nature of Homeric heroes, we do not face direct parallels
between Odysseus and Alexios. That would certainly make his character
open for various interpretative challenges, which would make a whole
discourse on the image of ideal ruler even more precarious. Possibilities for
synkrisis were narrowed and the only legendary hero that could fit perfectly
into the image, which Anna was constructing, was Herakles. With regard
to him, Anna left traces of direct comparison.
Alexios was juxtaposed to Herakles four times. The story of his deeds
actually starts with the scene of Herakles’ labours, where his greatest exploits
before becoming an emperor – the overcoming of the three usurpers – were
labelled as the three labours (οἱ ἆθλοι):
As for my father, he had made counter-preparations as if for a contest against

a huge Typhon or a hundred-handed Giant, summoning to his aid all his
general’s art and courageous spirit; he was ready to fight a worthy opponent.
The dust of former combats had not yet been shaken off, his hands and
sword not yet wiped clean of blood, when like a terrible lion he went forth
with high hopes to do battle with his long-tusked boar, Basilakios […]94
91 Basilakes, Progymnasmata, p. 98.

92 As we already saw in Libanius’ progymnasmata, and was later repeated in Basilaces’, Achilles
pretended he was a woman in order to avoid going to war.
93 Tzetzes stressed that the whole story was actually an allegory for a mother’s fear for her
son due to the oracle that prophesised his death in Trojan war. Thus, because of the exceeding
love for his mother, Achilles was at first hesitant, but later went to war. Therefore, a story about
his hiding in woman’s dress was actually his reluctance due to his mother’s love. – Tzetzes,
Allegories of the Iliad, p. 34-35.
94 Alexiad, p. 47.
ὁ δέ γε ἐμὸς πατὴρ ὁ Κομνηνὸς Ἀλέξιος ὡς πρὸς Τυφῶνα μέγαν ἢ ἑκατοντάχειρα

γίγαντα ἀντιπαραταξάμενος καὶ πᾶσαν ἑαυτῷ ἀνεγείρας στρατηγικὴν μηχανὴν
καὶ φρόνημα γενναῖον ὡς πρὸς ἀντίπαλον ἀξιόμαχον παρεσκεύαστο. καὶ μήπω
τὸν ἐκ τῶν προτέρων ἄθλων κονιορτὸν ἀποτιναξάμενος μὴδὲ τὸν λύθρον τοῦ
ξίφους καὶ τῶν χειρῶν ἀποπλυνάμενος ὥσπερ λέων ἐχώρει βλοσσυρὸς πρὸς
τὸν χαυλιόδοντα τοῦτον σῦν Βασιλάκιον τὸν θυμὸν αὐτοῦ ἀνεγείρας.95
Such was the third labour borne by Alexios before he became emperor, like
a second Herakles; for if you equated this Basilakios with the Erymanthian
Boar, and my father with a modern and most noble Herakles, you would
not be wrong.96
τοῦτο τρίτον ἆθλον πρό γε τῆς βασιλείας καθάπερ τινὶ Ἡρακλεῖ τῷ μεγάλῳ
Ἀλεξίῳ γεγένητο. ἂν γάρ τις Ἐρυμάνθιον Κάπρον τὸν Βασιλάκιον τοῦτον
καλέσειεν, Ἡρακλέα δέ τινα καθ΄ ἡμᾶς γενναιότατον τὸν ἐμὸν πατέρα Ἀλέξιον,
οὐκ ἂν ἁμαρτοιτο τῆς ἀληθείας’97
Herakles, Zeus’ son, helped his father in his fight against Giants. He was
sentenced to many labours by king Eurystheus, and he was finally saved by
Athena. Allegories of the Alexiad show similarities with the motives connected
with Herakles, which are lion and the sun.98 The prophecy about Alexios’
death, according to Anna, was wrong, because the emperor did not die on the
day it had been foretold. Yet, Anna left an interesting reference that could be
used as allegory for Alexios’ Heraklean character – on a foretold day, a lion
that lived in the palace died.99 After careful reading of Tzetzes’ Allegories,
and reading into Komnenian infatuation with the Zodiac, it seems utterly
peculiar that Alexios’ actually died when the Sun was in the sign of Leo.
That occurrence could not have been overlooked by anyone conversant with
astrology. And Anna was certainly aware of the symbolism of Katanankes’
prophecy. Yet, as always, she was not straightforward, and the understanding
of her subtext depended on the readership’s conversance with the sciences
and knowledge Anna manipulated with. Quite intentionally, in the scene of
Alexios death, she resorted to Christian register and explained that it was the
15th of August, the day when the Assumption of the Virgin Mary was celebrated.
95 Alexias, I 7,3 (26.32), p. 28.

96 Alexiad, p. 52.
97 Alexias, I 9,6 (95.98), p. 34.
98 ‘Herakles is the sun, who during the creation of the world was completely hidden by the
downpour’ – Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 270-271 (28).
99 Alexias, VI 7,5 (46.47), p. 182.
Beginning of Alexios’ deeds was performed through metaphor of Herakles’

labours. It was easy to do so since Alexios was successful. Even John the
Oxite admits that. Nevertheless, after he had become emperor, it was harder
to align his endeavours with Herakles’ labours. Yet, the conclusion of the
whole Alexiad recalled Heraklean imagery once again. According to Tzetzes
explanation, the twelve labours that Herakles completed were actually a
‘path of the planets’ from west to east. Alexios’ campaigns were finally
concluded on the East.
Manganeios poem composed for the emperor Manuel I Komnenos sums up
the abundant and complex motives that were used in the imperial enkomia
as part of welcoming discursive register:
Μεγάθυμε, μεγάλαθλε, ‘Great-hearted, great achiever, greatly

μεγαλοτολμητία, adventurous,
Μεγαλουργὲ καὶ καινουργέ, τί σε with your great and novel deeds, what
πρεπόντως εἴπω; name shall I best give you?
Γίγαντα λέξω δυνατὸν καὶ Shall I call you a giant, powerful and
μεμεγεθυσμένον; exalted?
Μεγαλαλκέα φράσω σε πυρίπνουν Shall I make you a noble Achilles of
Ἡρακλέα; mighty force,
Εὐρυσθενῇ καλέσω σε γεννάδαν or even child of the renowned Tydeus?
Ἀχιλλέα, Far-famed Herakles, new doer of great
ἢ καὶ Τυδέως ἔγγονον ἀλλὰ labours,
μεγακυδέος;΄ both sea and land have been filled
Ἡράκλεις μεγαλόφημε, καινὲ with your marvels;
μεγαλορέκτα, Europe covers before the breadth That
ἐπλήσθη τῶν θαυμάτων σου καὶ of your reputation,
θάλλασα καὶ χέρσος the whole Asia reveres your Majesty’s
Εὐρώπη καταπτήσσει σου τὴν glory. ‘100
εὐρυτάτην φήμην,
Ἀσία πᾶσα προσκυνεῖ τοῦ κράτους
σου τὴν δόξαν.
The poem for the occasion of Manuel’s triumphant return to the city was
most probably composed in the winter 1152-53. This date closely coincides
with the ultimate phase of the composition of the Alexiad.101 One could easily
catch sight of the apparent congruencies between the two enkomia – for
100 Manganeios, Poem 1, p. 10.

101 Magdalino, 1993, p. 474-475.
Alexios I Komnenos and Manuel I Komnenos. ‘Far-famed Herakles’ was

undoubtedly the most appealing model for rhetors to address the theme of
the glorious deeds of a ruler. The same discursive pattern is seen a genera-
tion before Manuel I, in the time of John II Komnenos, who was actually
the first Komnenian completely engaged in establishing a new dynastic
propaganda.102 The machinery that was set in motion to establish a new
political discourse developed a wide range of symbols and metaphors to
emphasise the crucial tenets of emperor’s political agenda. Politically, the
most important motif was the purple birth as an incomparable portent of
imperial legitimacy and necessary prerequisite for establishment of a new
dynasty. However, for the purposes of creating a dynasty, a completely
new ideal of the sacred and glorious predecessor emerged. In the time of
John II Komnenos, a magnificent emperor that was establishing his own
dynasty was John himself. Motives that were reintroduced in the poems
composed for his triumphs were chosen meticulously to serve the image
of the unsurpassed soldier-emperor. Thus, Homer was resurrected, and his
heroes were chosen as suitable paradigms for the imperial propaganda.103
Amalgamation of ancient pantheon with Christianity brought to the surface
an image of a Christ-loving autocrator and Pantokrator, the besieger of the
cities, a Zeus-like thunderstorm, and a second-Herakles, the incompatible
autocrator, victor and triumphator, whose endeavours could only be sung
by Homer.104
The concluding story of the Alexiad starts with the following passage:
With this act, then, this final triumph, ends the long series of the emperor’s
travails and exploits. It had been a reign of surprising boldness and novelty.
[…] The barbarians had gone unchecked, from the time when they invaded
the Empire soon after Diogenes’ elevation to the throne and his eastern
campaign (which was ill-starred from the very beginning) right down
to my father’s reign. Swords and spears had been sharpened against
the Christians; there had been battles and wars and massacres. Cities
were wiped out, lands ravaged, all the territories of Rome stained with
Christian blood. Some died miserably, pierced by arrow or lance; others
were driven from their homes and carried off as prisoners-of-war to
Persian cities. Dread seised on all as they hurried to seek refuge from
impending disaster in caves, forests, mountains and hills. There they
102 Stanković, 2006, p. 213-218.

103 Especially in the political verses of Theodore Prodromos.
104 Michael Italikos, Basilikos logos, p. 239.
loudly bewailed the fate of their friends in Persia; the few others who
survived in Roman lands mourned the loss of sons or grieved for their
daughters; one wept for a brother, another for a nephew killed before
his time and like women they shed bitter tears. In those days no walk
of life was spared its tears and lamentation. Apart from a few emperors
(Tzimiskes, for example, and Basil) none from that period to my father’s
reign even dared to set foot at all in Asia.105
τοῦτο μὲν οὖν ὕστατον ἔργον καὶ ἆθλον τῶν μακρῶν ἐκείνων πόνων καὶ
κατορθωμάτων τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος καὶ καινοπραγία τίς καὶ τόλμη παράδοξος.
καί, οἶμαι, ὁ τότε παρὼν ἢ καὶ συνὼν ἐκείνῳ θαυμάζει μέχρι τοῦ νῦν καὶ οὐχ’
ὕπαρ τὰ τότε γεγενημένα θεάσασθαι δοκεῖ, ἀλλ’ ὄνειρος τίς αὐτῷ καὶ φαντασία
φαίνεται. καὶ γὰρ ἐξότου τῶν ὁρίων τῆς Ῥωμαίων ἀρχῆς ἐξ αὐτῆς τοῦ Διογένους
ἀναρρήσεως οἱ βάρβαροι ἐπέβησαν, οὐκ εὐτυχῶς ἐκ πρώτης, ὅ φασι, βαλβίδος
κατ’αὐτῶν ἐξορμήσαντος, οὐ μέχρι τῆς τοὐμοῦ πατρὸς αὐτοκρατορίας ἡ αὐτῶν
ἐξορμήσαντος, οὐ μέχρι τῆς τοὐμοῦ πατρὸς αὐτοκρατορίας ἡ βαρβαρικὴ
χεὶρ συνέσταλτο, ἀλλὰ καὶ ξίφη καὶ δόρατα κατὰ Χριστιανῶν ἐξεθήγετο,
καὶ μάχαι καὶ πόλεμοι καὶ σφαγαί. ἠφανίζοντο μὲν πόλεις, ἐληίζοντο δὲ
χῶραι καὶ πᾶσα ἡ Ῥωμαίων γῆ Χριστιανῶν αἵμασιν ἐμιαίνετο. οἱ μὲν γὰρ
βέλεσί τε καὶ δόρασιν οἰκτρῶς ἔπιπτον, οἱ δὲ τῶν σφετέρων ἀπελαυνόμενοι
δορυάλωτοι πρὸς τὰς πόλεις Περσίδος ἀπήγοντο.καὶ δρόμος ἅπαντας εἶχεν
ἐπὶ τὰ ἄντρα καὶ τὰ ἄλση καὶ τὰ ὄρη καὶ τοὺς βουνοὺς ἀπὸ τῶν εἰσπιπτόντων
δεινῶν κρύπτεσθαι ἐπειγομένους. ἐν τούτοις οἱ μὲν ἐποτνιῶντο ἐφ’ οἷς ἔπασχον
πρὸς Περσίδα ἀπαγόμενοι,οἱ δ’ ἔτι περιόντες, εἴ που τινὲς τοῖς ῥωμαϊκοῖς
ὁρίοις ἐναπέμειναν, βύθιον στένοντες ὁ μὲν υἱόν, ὁ δὲ θυγατέρα ἐθρήνει, ὁ δὲ
ἀδελφόν, ὁ δὲ ἀδελφιδοῦν ἀπεκλαίετο πρὸ καιροῦ θνῄσκοντα καὶ οἷα γυναῖκες
θερμὸν κατέσταζον δάκρυον· καὶ οὐκ ἦν τότε οὐδεμία τίς σχέσις ἄδακρυς οὐδ’
ἀστένακτος. βασιλεὺς δὲ πλὴν ὀλίγων, λέγω δὲ Τζιμισκῆν τὲ καὶ Βασίλειον
{τὸν βασιλέα}, ἔκτοτε καὶ μέχρι τοὐμοῦ πατρὸς οὐδεὶς ἄκροις ποσὶ τῆς
Ἀσιάτιδος ἐφάψασθαι τὸ παράπαν τετόλμηκεν.106
The ending of the narrative coincides with the opening motif of Heraklean
labours. Just like Homer, Anna does not write anything without considera-
tion ‘even the trifles’. This passage vividly and convincingly summarises
all crucial motives of the image of the ideal ruler. Heraklean-like emperor
finished his ‘twelve labours’. On his path he was, just like Herakles, protected
by Athena, the guardian of this hero in the legend, but in Anna’s history, this

106 Alexias, XV 10,5 (90.17), p. 493.
goddess was likened to the empress Eirene Doukaina. Again, comparison

between Eirene Doukaina and Athena was not coincidental at all. The role
of the Athena started to be prominent in the last years of his reign, when
he was afflicted by his illness. This discourse was, however, seasoned with
unavoidable Christian motives that were incorporated in the picture of
Heraklean emperor and his fight against infidels, and for the protection of
the Orthodox faith against heresies. A fitting model of Eusebian emperor
was added to this jigsaw. The transition from Homeric pantheon to Christian
imagery and legendary emperors was necessary for fulfilment of generic
prerequisites. After all, Anna purported to write a truthful history, and she
needed to build the image of the true ideal on the solid historical foundation
that was laid by most successful emperors from the recent past. Precisely for
this reason Anna recalled to memory the images of Tzimisces and Basil. One
could also wonder whether she intentionally continued the argument from
Psellos’ Chronographia – Alexios was actually the first emperor after famous
Macedonians to continue successful politics of his imperial predecessors.
Anna wanted us to believe that he was the last one in that line of successful
soldier-emperors.
In search of a paradigm – between a legendary hero and a

legendary emperor
The story of Alexios’ deeds coincides mostly with the generic elements of
basilikos logos prescribed by Menander Rhetor in his treatise on epideictic
rhetoric. Anna’s formula on the strict division between history and enkomion
was magnificently turned over into conjugation of the two generic categories.
Basilikos logos was the most suitable rhetorical category for shaping an image
of the ideal ruler. One would expect nothing else except enkomion for a father,
when there was a need to extol his accomplishments, and especially when
his deeds were confronted with the successes of his successors to the throne.
The cultural and intellectual mode of the Komnenian epoch cherished
encomiastic speeches that started to flourish in the time of Alexios’ son,
John II Komnenos. Moreover, John’s son, Manuel I, was the emperor to
whom a greatest number of preserved enkomia were dedicated.107 Even
Anna Komnene acknowledges that, but she is not commendable towards
that trend at all:
107 Magdalino, 1993, p. 413-489.

Most of the evidence I collected myself, especially in the reign of the

third emperor after Alexios, at a time when all the flattery and lies had
disappeared with his grandfather (all men flatter the current ruler, but
no one makes the slightest attempt to over-praise the departed; they tell
bare facts and describe things just as they happened).108
Once more Anna stresses that she will not resort to excessive praise, since
there is no need for that. All flatteries and lies are dedicated to the ruling
emperor, that is, Manuel I Komnenos. Anna’s grudge seems to be an echo
of Manganios poem:
Καὶ πᾶσα γλῶττα τῶν ἐθνῶν ἡ ‘And every pagan tongue of foreign
θύραθεν δεσμεῖται, people is silenced,
Μὴ σθένουσα τῷ φοβῷ σου λαλεῖν not having the strength, for fear of
σου τὰς ἀνδρίας you to tell of your brave acts
ἅπαν δὲ στόμα ῥήτορος ὑμνεῖ σου τὰς but every rhetor’s mouth hymns your
δυνάμεις, powers
καὶ συντρανοῦται τοῖς τρανοῖς and he too is acclaimed as he acclaims
ἀνακηρύγμασί σου. and proclaims you.’ 109
From the prologue until the Book XIV Anna does not give up her theo-
retical deliberations on the genre in which she is delivering her story. She
vehemently emphasises that she writes history, but again, so many scholars
faced all sorts of problems when using her history for extracting ‘bare facts’.
Another set of problems, was provoked by dominantly pervading war-
narrative that led Howard-Johnston to conclude that Anna could not have
been the original author of the Alexiad, but just a compiler of Bryennios war
accounts.110 However, one did not have to be present on battlefield to be
108 Alexiad, p. 460; Alexias, XIV 7,5 (47.52), p. 451-452: ‘ἐγὼ δὲ καὶ τὰ πολλὰ τούτων συνελεξάμην,
καὶ κράτιστα ἐπὶ τοῦ μετὰ τὸν ἐμὸν πατέρα τρίτου τὰ τῆς βασιλείας σκῆπτρα διέποντος, ὅτε καὶ πᾶσα
κολακεία καὶ ψεῦδος τῷ πάππῳ αὐτῷ συναπέρρευσε, πάντων τὸν ἐφιστάμενον μὲν θρόνον κολακευόντων,
πρὸς δὲ τὸν ἀπερρυηκότα μηδέν τι μὲν θωπείας ἐνδεικνυμένων, γυμνὰ δὲ τὰ πράγματα διηγουμένων
καὶ αὐτὰ λεγόντων ὥσπερ ἐσχήκασιν’.
109 Manganeios Prodromos, Poem 1, p. 8 (77.80).
110 James Howard-Johnston concluded that we should not consider the Alexiad Anna Komnene’s
work, but her husband’s: ‘The main components, military and political, of the Alexiad, which
have been attributed to Nikephoros, from the opening account of the Komnenos-Doukas putsch
through to the 1116 campaign against the Turks present well-ordered narratives. It is plain that
they have been shaped by an author (Nikephoros) who combined plenty of detailed knowledge
with a good understanding of high politics, diplomacy, strategy and tactics, before they came into
Anna’s hands.’ (Sic.!) – Howard-Johnston, 1996, p. 260-302, esp. p. 292-293. For a counter-argument
able to describe a battle. Anything they needed for a literary presentation

of a war of any kind was provided in the rhetorical manuals. Exercises in
ekphraseis, descriptions of people, animals, artefacts, buildings or battles
enabled writers to embellish their accounts or even completely invent them
if they needed to do so. Alternatively, one could only plunge into the Iliad
to extract all necessary descriptive patterns of the war clashes and, thus,
satisfy the epistemological needs of his audience. Menander Rhetor gives
concise advice on the topic:
In the treatment of actions of war, you should describe the natures and
situations of the places where the wars took place, rivers, harbours, moun-
tains, plains, and whether the country was bare or wooded, [level or] rocky.
You should also describe traps and ambushes laid by the emperor for the
enemy and by the enemy for the emperor. […] There are many such things
in the historians, in the Persian wars in Herodotus, in the Peloponnesian
war in Thucydides, in Theopompus’ Philippica and in Xenophon’s Anabasis
and Hellenica. You should also describe the emperor’s own battles, and
invest him with all impressiveness and knowledge, as Homer does for
Achilles, Hector and Ajax. You should also describe his armour and his
campaigns, dwelling on the moment of prowess and engagement, when
you describe the prowess of the emperor.111
Thus, we encounter either reminiscence from the ancient authors, namely

Thucydides and Polybius,112 or from the rhetorical progymnasmata. Anna’s
history is replete with allusions from the Iliad mainly, which was a clear
echo of the prevalent cultural trend in the time when she composed her
history and was formed through the opus of the most influential court poet
Theodore Prodromos.113 Anna managed different discursive models in order
to create the image of a soldier emperor. So, what did Menander Rhetor
prescribe in the III century that was very soon established as a canon for
the imperial orations?
The imperial oration is an encomium of the emperor. It will thus embrace a

generally agreed amplification of the good things attaching to the emperor,
see especially Macrides, 2000, passim. and Reinsch, 2000, passim; for the discussion about gender
perspectives on this particular issue see Vilimonović, 2015, p. 11-13.
111 Menander Rhetor, Basilikos Logos, p. 86-87.
112 See, for example, analysis of Bryennios’ history and his extensive ‘borrowings’ from Polybius
– Neville, 2012, p. 5, 32, 34, 36-37, 41-43, 44, 95, 96, 104-05, 106, 110, 114, 117-19, 198-99, 203.
113 On Prodromos life and work see Hörandner, Theodore Prodromos, p. 21-56.
but allows no ambivalent or disputed features, because of the extreme

splendour of the person concerned. You should therefore elaborate it on the
assumption that it relates to things universally acknowledged to be good.114
Hence, the unsuccessful Alexios was, when confronted with severe loses,
described as a lover of peace, since ‘after all, it is the mark of a bad general, when
all is peaceful, purposely to provoke his neighbours to war – for peace is the
end of all wars. Invariably to prefer war instead of peace, always to disregard
the good end, is typical of foolish commanders and foolish political leaders,
the mark of men who work for the destruction of their own state. The policy of
Alexios was absolutely opposed to this: he cultivated peace to an unusual degree;
its presence was always and by every means cherished and its absence worried
him, so that he often spent sleepless nights wondering how it might return’.115
Anna’s treatment of Alexios’ policy is essentially Aristotelian, as well
as her construction of Alexios’ character and his acts in war and peace.
Aristotle states in the Politics, that ‘the peace is the end of war’ (τέλος γάρ,
ὥσπερ εἴρηται πολλάκις, εἰρήνη μὲν πολέμου), and the ‘leisure of constant
engagement’ (σχολὴ δ᾽ ἀσχολίας).116 However, it is important to know how
to enjoy justly in the time of peace and leisure, for which several virtues are
of essential importance, such as temperance, justice and love of wisdom,
for ‘It is clear therefore why a state that is to be happy and righteous must
share in these virtues; for if it is disgraceful to be unable to use our good
things, it is still more disgraceful to be unable to use them in time of leisure,
and although showing ourselves good men when engaged in business and
war, in times of peace and leisure to seem no better than slaves.’117 The
statesman, Aristotle adds must always ‘aim particularly at the greater goods
and the ends’ (μᾶλλον δὲ πρὸς τὰ βελτίω καὶ τὰ τέλη), which Anna ascribes
to Alexios, again, exclaiming that precisely the ‘disregard of the good end’
(καὶ τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ τέλος ἀεὶ ἀμελεῖν) is typical of foolish commanders.
Aristotle’s deliberations on the good premises for the righteous rule,
are all found in Menander’s treatise. Everything prescribed by Aristotle
and reshaped by Menander in his treatise is found in the Alexiad, in case
of Alexios. We see his deeds in war, and his acts in peace. In the time of
peace, he exerts justice and benevolence, and the love of wisdom, which is,
in Byzantine vocabulary, personified in theology.

116 Aristotle, Politics, 7.1334a.
117 Ibid.
Alexios image is different to certain extent from to the picture prevalent

in the rhetorical poems of the court rhetors, which celebrated the martial
deeds of John II and Manuel I Komnenos. Alexios fights, runs away, uses
various military tactics, loses battles, but nevertheless, constantly longs for
peace. This type of character, constructed in the Alexiad, is significantly
distant from the belligerent John II, and rash Manuel I. Many of Alexios’
political failures are brilliantly embedded in the Aristotelian ideal of a
courageous man:
The courageous man then is he that endures or fears the right things and
for the right purpose and in the right manner and at the right time, and
who shows confidence in a similar way. (For the courageous man feels
and acts as the circumstances merit, and as principle may dictate)118
Anna continues the idea of the ‘ideal mean’, of the true virtue of the emperor
who acted precisely according to the circumstances and principles, compar-
ing him directly to his ‘unsuccessful successors’, since they did not aim at
the greater good:
The emperor was not concerned merely with his own advantages; he
also had in mind the Empire itself. He cared more, in fact, for the general
welfare than for his own. […] His purpose was to ensure that the treaty
would last after his death and for a long time. It failed, because when
he died the affairs took a different course and ended in confusion. […]
Thereafter we enjoyed peace until the end of his life, but with him all
the benefits disappeared and his efforts came to nothing through the
stupidity of those who inherited the throne.119
Anna had a difficult task to compete with the image of the triumphant
emperor John II. Especially the motif of a triumphant victor (τροπαιοφόρος,
τροπαίουχος) was dominant in the epoch that accustomed in its political
discourse all other similar derivatives from the formula of a victorious
emperor: the victorious saviour (νικοποιῶ σωτῆρι), triumphant conqueror
(μεγαλοτροπαιοῦχε), great hearted (μεγάθυμε), great achiever (μεγάλθλε),
greatly adventurous (μεγαλοτολμητίτα). In this task, however, Anna followed
Menander’s advice that a rhetor should express his inability to ‘take in
the fame of the emperor in words’, and when additional amplification is

necessary one can ‘obtain ideas […] either from the grandeur of Homer – this
alone is what the subject needed – or from Orpheus the son of Calliope, or
from the Muses themselves – “scarcely would even they have been able
to speak worthily of the subject”‘.120 On the first place, she used Homeric
imagery to speak about the deeds of her protagonist, and to shape even the
inglorious deeds in the heroic imagery of the ancients.
One of the greatest Alexios victories, against the Pechenegs in the battle
of Lebounion (1091), was lauded according to Menander’s advice:
So the emperor’s affairs prospered, thanks to Divine Providence (τοιαῦτα

μὲν οὖν τὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος θείᾳ προνοίᾳ). When all was fully settled,
he returned to Byzantium […] a triumphant victor (τροπαιοφόρος ἀυτὸς
νικητὴς). At this point I must leave the history of the Scyths, although I
have said little in comparison with might have been said […] As to the
emperor’s glorious victories (λάμπρας τοῦ ἀυτοκράτορος νίκας ), the partial
setbacks at the hand of his enemies, his individual feats of valour (τούτου
ἀνδραγαθίας), the events that occurred meanwhile, the way in which he
adapted himself to every circumstance and by different means broke
up the terrors which threatened us, not even a second Demosthenes,
nor indeed the whole chorus of orators , nor all the Academy and Stoa,
united in one effort to do justice to the achievements of this emperor,
would have had ability to succeed.121
There are many convergences between Anna’s images of Alexios and the
picture of victorious John II Komnenos, in the speech of Nikephoros Basilakes
on his triumphs in Syria in 1138 and Anna Komnene’s Alexios. The oration of
Nikephoros Basilakes summarises John II most important campaigns – in
the West against Hungarians, Pechenegs, Serbians, and in the East, bringing
up the story about submission of Antioch as the focal point of the Eastern
campaign. The rhetor prepares to speak in which way the Emperor ‘pushed

121 Alexiad, p. 261; Alexias, VIII 6,5 (87.93), p. 251: ‘οιαῦτα μὲν οὖν τὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος θείᾳ
πάντως προνοίᾳ. πάντα γοῦν κατὰ τὸ πλῆρες τελέ-σας τροπαιοφόρος αὐτὸς νικητὴς πρὸς τὸ Βυζάντιον
ἐπανέρχεται Μαΐου παριππεύοντος μηνός. ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν τῶν Σκυθῶν ὧδέ πῃ πέρας ἐχέτω, κἂν ἐκ
πολλῶν ὀλίγα μοι εἴρηται ἄκρῳ δακτύλῳ τοῦ Ἀδριαντικοῦ ἁψαμένῃ Πελάγους. τὰς γὰρ λαμπρὰς τοῦ
αὐτοκράτορος νίκας, τὰς μερικὰς τῶν πολεμίων ἥττας, τὰς καθ’ ἕνα τούτου ἀνδραγαθίας, τὰ ἐν τῷ μεταξὺ
συμπίπτοντα τοῖς τότε καιροῖς καὶ ὅπως πρὸς ἅπαντας ἐποίκιλλέ τε καὶ διὰ παντοίας μεθόδου διέλυε
τὰ συμπίπτοντα δεινά, οὐδ’ ἂν Δημοσθένης ἄλλος ἢ καὶ ὁ ἅπας τῶν ῥητόρων χορός, οὐδ’ ἂν ἡ Ἀκαδημία
πᾶσα καὶ ἡ Στοὰ εἰς ταὐτὸν συνεληλυθέτην καὶ προὔργου παντὸς τὰς Ἀλεξίου πράξεις ἐποιήσαντο,
τούτων ἐφικέσθαι ἐξίσχυσαν.’; cf. Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 53
(19.26).
away the Kelts, humbled the Persians and enslaved Cilicia (μετὰ Κελτῶν
καταβέβληται, μετὰ Περσῶν τεταπείνωται, μετὰ Κιλίκων δεδούλωται)’.122 His
exploits on the Balkans resounded with the tones of slaughter: ‘you put to
flight Dalmatians, terrified the Scythians and Nomads, people who live in
wagons and without laws. The rivers of blood and gore poured down the river
Istros and defiled its waters’.123 The motif of God-chosen ruler was heavily
emphasised: ‘After God had appointed you as the head of all nations and
invested you with the imperial power through anointment as the one who
is chosen of God, as the one who is hallowed, he has sent you to the road to
Israel, to rule and ordain properly your subjects, the ‘god-chosen people’.124
The Alexiad, overall, delivers a dynamic narrative in which war deeds
‘that should be only spoken of under the head of courage’ are interwoven
with the ‘actions in the time of peace’, so the ruler is praised according to
the scheme of courage (ἀνδρεία) that is reserved for war deeds, and justice
(δικαιοσύνη), temperance (σωφροσύνη) and wisdom (φρόνησις), which should
be headings for the narration on peace (τὸν λόγον περὶ τῆς εἰρήνης).125
However, there are several peculiarities regarding the exposition of
Alexios’ virtues. Some of the main imperial virtues were in several episodes
ascribed to the female members of the imperial oikos. This was other side
of Anna’s political manifesto, which was closely connected to her personal
limitations as a woman in politics.
Firstly, in the imperial oration for Alexios, Theophylaktos of Ochrid’s
ascribes the imperial virtue of temperance to Anna Dalassene, Alexios’
mother who ruled conjointly with him.126 We find the same situation in
the Alexiad, where Anna bestowed upon her grandmother Dalassene the
imperial virtue σωφροσύνη. Apart from that crucial discursive marker from
the imperial enkomia, Anna added two significant words to the vocabulary
register that describes the political and ideological importance of her grand-
mother – the imperial benevolence φιλανθροπία and φρόνησις.127 Being also
compared with the sun as the one that outshines all other women as the
122 Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 50 (20.21).
123 Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 52 (23.25): ‘ἐκεῖνα καὶ Δαλμάτας
ἐτρέψατο καὶ Σκύθας ἐπτόησε καὶ Νομάδας, ὅλον ἔθνος ἁμαξῆρες καὶ ἀπολίτευτον¨πολλοῖς τοῖς λύθροις
καὶ ὅλοις αἱμάτων ποταμοῖς πολυχεύμοσιν τὰ τοῦ Ἴστρου ῥεῖθρα ἐπέχρωσεν’.
124 Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 53 (29.31): ‘ἐπεὶ γὰρ σε θεὸς εἰς
κεφαλὴν ἐθνῶν κατέστησε καὶ εἰς βασιλέα ἔχρισε καὶ σε τὸν ἐκλεκτὸν αὐτοῦ, τὸν ὅσιον, εἰς ὁδηγίαν
Ἰσραὴλ ἐξαπέστειλε’.
126 Theophylaktos, À Alexis Comnène, p. 237-239.
127 Alexias III 8,3 (74.88), p. 105-106.
most gleaming star, Dalassene was in just one paragraph denoted as the
imperial counterpart of Alexios.
Secondly, under the heading ‘narration on peace’ – τὸν λόγον περὶ τῆς
εἰρήνης – Anna introduced another story, through brilliant play with
ethymology. In the place of Alexios’ internal politics in the time of peace,
Anna delivered also a ‘narration on Eirene’. Anna made this artful com-
parison in her deliberations on Eirene Doukaina’s role of Alexios’ guardian
in the last years of his reign – ‘she was a most peaceable woman’ (τὰ δἐ
ἄλλα εἰρηνικωτάτη ἦν κατὰ τοὔνομα).128 As I have mentioned before, the first
pen-portrayal of her mother introduced her as a personification of goddess
Athena, which is not deprived of its symbolic. Athena was guardian of
Herakles also. Nevertheless, it is rather curious to see how Anna played
with double meaning of words and delivered a story about her mother,
where she should have presented a story about Alexios’ achievements in
peace. What is even more interesting is that Eirene was granted with the
most highly praised imperial quality – vigilance (ἐγρήγορσις) – of which
Alexios’ was deprived. The symbolic of watchfulness is summarised in the
stichoi of Manganeios Prodromos:129
Ἄγρυπνε φαίνων ὀφθαλμέ, πότε ‘Shining sleepless eye, when will you
μικρὸν ὑπνώσεις sleep a little?
Οὐκ ἐκ σιδήρου γέγονας, οὐκ ἀπὸ You were not born of iron, you were
λίθων ἔφυς, not made of stone,
Οὐδέ σε λέων ὡμηστὴς ἐξέθρεψεν ἐν nor did a savage lion nurture you on
ὄρει the mountain.
Πορφύρας ἔφυς γέννημα, τῶν You were born a Porphyrogennetos,
ἀνακτόρων ἔρνος. nurtured in the palace.
Ἔνδος ποτὲ τοὺς πονοὺς σου καὶ τοὺς Relax sometimes your efforts and your
μακρούς σου κόπους long labours,
ἐπιθυμεῖ σε καὶ κοιτὼν ἰδεῖν ἐπὶ τῆς your chamber too wishes to see you
κλίνης on the bed
παννύχιον καθεύδοντα, κἂν ἐν νυκτὶ sleeping all night, even in times of
βαθείᾳ, peace.
ναί, ναί, πρὸς τῶν ἀγρύπνων σου καὶ Recline and fall asleep, even deep in
χαροπῶν ὀμμάτων! the night.
yes, yes, by your sleepless and delight-
ful eyes!’129
128 Alexiad, p. 377; Alexias ΧΙΙ 3,8 (60.61), p. 367.

129 Manganeios Prodromos, Poem 1, p. 11-12 (152.160).
Thirdly, one of the most vivid scenes of the imperial amnesty, in the story
of Michael Anemas, that was suited to show emperor’s δικαιοσύνη – under
‘justice’ one should commend mildness towards subjects, humanity towards
petitioners, and accessibility – was performed through mediation of Anna
Komnene and her mother. The question is: whose δικαιοσύνη it was? Had
not there been for Eirene’s ‘warm tears’ (δάκρυον ἐπαφεῖσα τούτῳ θερμὸν),
Alexios would not have granted him forgiveness.130
Alexios’ style of governing, presented in the Alexiad, conforms to the
idea of close familial community. The opening lines of Aristotle’s Politics
are telling for our understanding of Anna’s insistence on the joint rule of
the first generation of the Komnenoi, his women included:
Every state is as we see a sort of partnership, and every partnership is

formed with a view to some good (since all the actions of all mankind
are done with a view to what they think to be good).131
We will see in which way precisely this family partnership, which is a

recurrent motive in the Alexiad, functioned for the pursuit of the greater
good. Basilikos logos constructed for Alexios encompassed members of
his closest family as partakers in the imperial oikonomia, and as well, was
directed against his successors who did not continue their predecessor’s
Aristotelian mode of government.
Alexios’ most illustrious display of the imperial philanthropy was renova-
tion of the Orphanage (ὀρφανοτροφεῖον). Structurally, this narrative unit was
placed in the Book XV, which summarises all emperor’s deeds and, according
to Menander Rhetor’s advices, the display of benevolence should come to
the closing part of the logos. Magdalino has noted that the sections ‘on the
Orphanage and the Bogomils are remarkable not only for being grossly
out of chronological order, but also because they are plainly interpolations
into the original narrative of the Turkish campaign’.132 I would agree with
his observation that these additions might have actually been a means of
enhancing ‘the account of father’s last campaign with ideological pendants’.133
Whereas Angold explains these additions as ‘being deliberately misleading’,
Magdalino considers them to be ‘an interpolation rather than a sequel to
130 Alexias XII 6,7 (48.50), p. 375.

132 Magdalino, 2000, p. 34.
133 Magdalino, 2000, p. 34.
the narrative of Alexios last campaign’.134 Nevertheless, my aim is to explain

what the intention of the author behind these premeditated addenda was.
Following Menander’s treatise, it becomes clear that Anna was once again
playing like a skilful rhetor. Also, this fits into Aristotle’s deliberation that
one should ‘show himself good in the time of peace and leisure’. The care
for the poor and needy was precisely the ‘greater good’ one should aim at.
The extensive praise of the emperor’s achievement for taking care of
‘poor, mutilated, blind, lame and orphans’ was convenient to thwart John
Oxite’s allegation against emperor that he deprived so many people of their
necessities, and reduced them to poverty, and was applicable to patriarch’s
advice to Alexios on how to rule over his subjects.135
Some he introduced into the orphanage which he had personally founded,

making it a school rather for those who wanted to learn; they were handed
over to the directors there to receive a good general education. For in the
district of Acropolis, where the entrance to the sea grows wider, he had
discovered a site near the enormous church dedicated to the great apostle
Paul; here, inside the capital city, he built a second city […] There were
numerous buildings, houses for the poor and – even better proof of his
humanity – dwellings for mutilated people. […] Man or woman, dwelt
in the house built for them and everything, so far as food or clothing are
concerned, was provided for them through the emperor’s generosity.
[…] Rather daringly, perhaps, I would say that the emperor’s work could
be compared with my Saviour’s miracle (the feeding of the seven and
five thousands) […] But who could possibly number those who eat there
every day, or estimate the daily expense and the forethought devoted
to each individual’s needs? […] A large and impressive body of clergy
was appointed to the church of St. Paul, the great herald of our faith,
and expensive lighting was provided for it. […] The famous Alexander of
Macedon might well boast of Alexandria in Egypt, Bucephale in Media
and Lysimachia in Ethiopia, but the Emperor Alexios found more pleasure
and pride in this Orphanage than in any of the cities he founded (and we
know such cities were built by him all over the Empire).136
The extensive elaboration on the Orphanage and all the benefits it provided
for the subjects might have been embellished according to the ideal of
134 Angold, 1996, 401; Magdalino, 2000, p. 34.

135 Diatribes, p. 42-43.
136 Alexiad, p. 492-495.
the newly established imperial foundation of a similar kind. It was mo-

nastic endowment of the emperor John II Komnenos, the monastery of
Christ Pantokrator that was finished in 1136, and served as a hospital and
educational centre also. Moreover, it was a monumental confirmation of
the new dynastic ideology that was promulgated by John II Komnenos.137
This very centre of the imperial propaganda, which testified about John’s
undisputable legitimacy under divine protection of Christ Pantokrator, could
not have been neglected by Anna Komnene as an applicable pattern for the
most glorious building endeavour of her father. It was not coincidentally
aligned with the Saviour’s miracle, being given a divine aura of which – John
Oxite claimed – Alexios was deprived. Also, the emphasis put on Alexios’
overshadowing of Alexander the Great interestingly overlaps with the
aforementioned basilikos logos of Nikephoros Basilakes for the emperor
John II, in which the emperor is likened precisely to Alexander the Great.138
However, apart from Anna’s anachronistic molding of her father’s image
according to his successors to the throne, she used this enterprise to make
a disparaging appraisal of the time that followed her father’s reign. Her
poignant observation was conducted on the issue of learning:
Today these sublime studies are considered not even of secondary impor-
tance; the poets and even the historians, together with the experience to
be derived from them, are denied their rightful place. Today it is the game
of draughts that is all the rage – and other activities, which contravene
the law. I say this because it grieves me to see the total neglect of general
education. It makes my blood boil, for I myself spent much time on these
same exercises. After liberation from the elementary studies I devoted
myself to rhetoric, touched on philosophy and in the midst of these sci-
ences eagerly turned to the poets and historians. So the rough edges of my
style were smoothed out; thereafter, with the aid of rhetoric, I condemned
excessive indulgence in schedography. These personal reminiscences, by
the way, are not superfluous: they are intended to reinforce my argument
for a general education.139
Anna’s negative assessment coincides with the passage from Book XII, where
she concluded that all Alexios’ efforts were futile due to the stupidity of his
successors. Two times in her narrative she alluded to Alexios’ heirs on the
137 Ousterhout, 2001, p. 133-153; Stanković, 2006, p. 280-282; Stanković, 2011, p. 59-60.
138 Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 53; 55; 59-60; 62; 68; 7.
throne in overtly negative fashion. This notion is, however, in contrast with
the Menander’s advice that one ‘should not disparage other rulers since it is a
bad craftsmanship’ and with how the Epilogue of basilikos logos should look
like: ‘After this, you must utter a prayer, beseeching God that the emperor’s
reign may endure long, and the throne be handed down to his children and
his descendants.’140 Firstly, it is rather curious that Anna did not connect
in any way with Alexios’ descendants to the throne, especially in these
passages. She always referred to them as ‘those who ruled’, ‘those who came
after’ or ‘successor’, without elaborating familiar relationship with either
of them, Alexios’, or her own. It was her ordinary fashion to emphasise her
familial connection with the protagonists. However, in these cases she did
not. Therefore, she sent a message that Alexios’ successors were complete
failures. Was she suggesting also that Alexios’ choice was completely wrong?
One more encomiastic peculiarity is found in the Alexiad. The inevitable
conclusion of an enkomion was a topics of comparison (σύγκρισις): ‘you should
then proceed to the most complete comparison, examining his reign in com-
parison with preceding reigns, not disparaging them (that is bad craftsmanship
– ἄτεχνον γάρ) but admiring them while granting perfection to the present.’141
A legendary emperor that served Anna as a paradigm for comparison was
Constantine the Great. This authorial artisanship was conducted throughout
the whole narrative, and reached its climax in the concluding books. With
regard to this glorious example from the past Anna was crafting a picture of
Alexios’ apostolic mission and his perseverance in protecting the orthodoxy
against heresies. The beginning of the story on John Italos, Anna elaborated
with this peculiar phraseology:
He found the affairs of the Church in disarray. Not for a brief moment was
he able to enjoy respite, but Alexios was a true representative of God (ὁποῖος
ἐκεῖνος ἀποστολικὸς ὤν) and when he saw the Church troubled by the teaching
of Italos, although he was planning operations against Bryennius (the Kelt
who occupied Kastoria) he did not disregard the plight of that Chruch.142
Eusebian image of Alexios was stressed further in the book VI:
One can truly say that this emperor was a most saintly person, both
because of his virtues and his manner in speaking – a high priest, as it

142 Alexiad, p. 174; Alexias, V 8,1 (29.34), p. 161.
were, of perfect reverence (εὐσεβείας ἁπάσης ἀρχιερεύς). He was an excellent

teacher of our doctrine (διδασκαλικώτατος τὲ γὰρ ἡμετέρου δόγματος), with
an apostle’s faith (ἀποστολικὸς) and message, eager to convert to Christ not
only the nomad Scyths, but also the whole Persia and all the barbarians
who dwell in Egypt or Libya and worship Mahomet with mystic rites.143
This passage opens up the theme on Alexios’ being the thirteenth apos-
tle, which was directly mentioned in the Book XIV, in his submission of
Manicheans, in a story that recalled the image of one more prominent
predecessor – John Tzimiskes. Alexios was twice compared to the already
legendary, Macedonian emperor because of his fight against heretics and
because of his victories on the East. However, more vigorous comparison
was conducted in relation to Constantine the Great:
The work that he did here and the labours he courageously endured were
truly worthy of a great apostle – for surely there is no reason why he should
not be praised. If someone objected that he neglected his military duties,
I would point out that both East and West were the scenes of numberless
military exploits. Again, if he were blamed for treating literature with
scant respect, my reply would be this: no man, I am sure, more zealously
searched the Holy Scriptures than he, in order to have a ready answer
in his debates with the heretics. He alone made use of arms and words
alike, for with arms he conquered them and by his arguments he subdued
the ungodly. On this occasion, it was for an apostolic mission, not for
operations of war, that he armed himself against Manicheans. And I
myself would call him ‘the thirteenth apostle’ – though some ascribe
that honour to Constantine the Great. However, it seems to me that either
Alexios ought to be ranked with the Emperor Constantine, or, if someone
quarrelled with that, he should follow immediately after Constantine in
both roles – as emperor and apostle.144
This direct comparison in the Book XIV, coincides with the advices from
Menader’s treatise. Alexios’ deeds were presented a personified ideal of
the first Christian emperor who fought against both external and internal
enemies, with the particular emphasis laid on his zealous fight against the
heretics. The summit of the whole narrative on heretics is given in the final
book, in the picturesque story about Bogomils’ and Alexios’ vanquishing of
143 Alexiad, p. 212; Alexias, VI 13,4 (11.17), p. 199.

144 Alexiad, p. 465-466.
their leader. The scene recalls Constantine’s tiresome fight against Arius. The
mise en scène is very peculiar also – the stage is set in the Constantinople,
in the palace and then in the hippodrome.145 The emperor was personally
involved in this dispute,146 and presided over the council that convicted
the heresy.147 This again, brings us back to Aristotle and the disposition of
a statesman in the time of peace and leisure when he should display his
love of wisdom. Alexios’ direct involvement in the theological disputes was
a marker of his philosophical nature.
Anna did not provide any details about the Bogomil dogma in order
not to ‘defile her style’. However, denomination of Basil as ‘heresiarch’ (τὸ
αἱρεσιαρχικόν) served to intensify severity of this heresy and their leader. It all
served to uphold the idea of the emperor’s magnificent defend of orthodoxy
in his fight against ‘Satan’s arch-satrap’ (ὁ τοῦ Σαταναὴλ ἀρχισατράπης) and his
‘twelve followers’ (δώδεκα μὲν ἔχων μαθητάς), that symbolised the antinomy of
Christ’s apostles. Once more, a story about Alexios as the personified Christ,
or the thirteenth apostle was invigorated. Alexios’ victory over Bogomils
was presented as his last (Heraklean) ‘labour’ – τοῦτο μὲν ὕστατον ἔργον
καὶ ἆθλον τῶν μακρῶν ἐκείνων πόνων καὶ κατορθωμάτων τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος.148
The story of Alexios’ ‘twelve labours’ was concluded with his defeat of the
Basil Satan’s servant which alludes to Herakles’ twelfth labour against the
mighty guardian of the underworld.149 Herakles defeated Cerberus, the beast
that guarded the entrance to Hades. By Hades/Pluto’s order, Herakles needed
to overpower the beast without any of his weapons.150 – which again alludes
to Alexios’ conversance with the dogma. Discursive resemblance between
these two stories could not have been coincidental. Furthermore, Herakles’
twelfth labour happened as part of his descent into the Underworld. As
I have stressed already, the story of Alexios’ final labour concludes the
narrative on his deeds and opens a story about Alexios’ ‘descent into the
Underworld’, that is, his own death. But in this story in particular, it seems
145 Alexias, XV 8,3 (59.61), p. 486: ‘καί τινες τῶν Βογομίλων εἰς τὰ ἀνάκτορα ἤγοντο, ἅπαντες δὲ
Βασίλειον τινα κατήγγελλον διδάσκαλον καὶ κορυφαῖον πρωτοστάτην τῆς βογομιλικῆς αἱρέσεως.’
Dion Smythe argued that Bogomils were particularly dangerous because of their connections
with the influential people in Constantinople, and not because of their potential influence on
the Balkan peasantry: Smythe, 1996, p. 240.
146 Alexias, XV 8,4 (68.70), p. 487: ‘Καί αὐτίκα ὁ αὐτοκράτωρ, τὸ ἐνδομυχοῦν ἐθέλων παρασύραι
ταῖς πειθανάγκαις, μετακαλεῖται τὸν ἄνδρα μεθ’ οἵου προσχήματος’.
147 Alexias, XV 8,6 (6.8), p. 487:’τὸ συγκλητικὸν ἅπαν συνήθρποστο καὶ τὸ στρατιστικὸν συνείλεκτο
σύνταγμα καὶ ἡ γερουσία τῆς ἐκκλησίας συνῆν’.
148 Alexias, XV 10,5 (90.92), p. 493.
149 Apollodorus, The Library, II, 5.11-12, p. 233.
150 Apollodorus, The Library, II, 5.12, p. 237.
to me that Anna made an allusion on Odysseus’ descent into Hades, which

is, rather indicative, placed in the Book XI of the Odyssey, which is precisely
the same number of the chapter (Book XV, chapter 11) that opens a story
about ‘Alexios’ descent into the Underworld’. Precisely in this Book of the
Odyssey and in this narrative landscape (in the Underworld), Homer’s
hero Odysseus meets Herakles, which is a scene considered to be Herakles’
recognition of Odysseus, when he asked him if he was also convicted to the
same labours as him:
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν᾽ ‘Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus,

Ὀδυσσεῦ, ἆ δείλ᾽ , ἦ τινὰ καὶ σὺ Odysseus of many devices, ah, wretch-
κακὸν μόρον ἡγηλάζεις, ὅν περ ἐγὼν ed man, dost thou, too, drag out an
ὀχέεσκον ὑπ᾽ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο. Ζηνὸς evil lot such as I once bore beneath
μὲν πάϊς ἦα Κρονίονος, αὐτὰρ ὀιζὺν the rays of the sun? I was the son of
εἶχον ἀπειρεσίην: μάλα γὰρ πολὺ Zeus, son of Cronos, but I had woe be-
χείρονι φωτὶ δεδμήμην, ὁ δέ μοι yond measure; for to a man far worse
χαλεποὺς ἐπετέλλετ᾽ ἀέθλους. καί than I was I made subject, and he laid
ποτέ μ᾽ ἐνθάδ᾽ ἔπεμψε κύν᾽ ἄξοντ᾽ : οὐ on me hard labours. Yea, he once sent
γὰρ ἔτ᾽ ἄλλον φράζετο τοῦδέ γέ μοι me hither to fetch the hound of Hades,
κρατερώτερον εἶναι ἄεθλον: τὸν μὲν for he could devise for me no other
ἐγὼν ἀνένεικα καὶ ἤγαγον ἐξ Ἀίδαο: task mightier than this. The hound
Ἑρμείας δέ μ᾽ ἔπεμψεν ἰδὲ γλαυκῶπις I carried off and led forth from the
Ἀθήνη. house of Hades; and Hermes was my
guide, and flashing-eyed Athena.’151
I suggest that this part of Anna’s narrative presents a clear breech between
Alexios two-faced image – a Heraklean one ends with the story of his final
labour – overpowering of the Cerberus, that is, of the Satan’s servants, Basil
the Bogomil, ‘for he could devise for me no other task mightier than this’ – and
sets the scene for Constantinian, Christ-like image of the dying emperor,
whose final days were shaped according to the story of the passion of Christ.
Alexios, being both apostle and the emperor (μετά γε Κωνσταντῖνον
ἀπόστολος ἅμα καὶ βασιλεὺς ὁ Ἀλεξιος), achieved his victories through the
imagery of the God-protected emperor. During his war against Bohemond,
Anna delivered a story about emperor’s dream, quite similar to the discursive
patterns we encounter in hagiographies: ‘When the sun went down he
retired to his bed after working all day. He had a dream. It seemed that he
was standing in the sanctuary of the great martyr Demetrius and he heard
151 Homer, Odyssey, 11.615-627.

a voice say: “Cease tormenting yourself and grieve not; on the morrow you
will win”’ (μὴ λυποῦ μηδὲ στένε, αὔριον νικᾷς).152 The vision of the Christ
was changed with the vision of the famous warrior saint, protector of the
Komnenian dynasty.153
Before the final battle against Pechenegs, and, probably, Alexios’ greatest
victory, Anna embedded emperor’s appeal to Lord again in a very symbolic
Eusebian narrative landscape:
Alexios invoked the aid of the God (θεὸν ἀρωγὸν ἐπεκαλεῖτο). As the sun
was setting he led the prayers; a brilliant torch-light procession took place
and suitable hymns, also led by him, were chanted to the Lord. […] At the
moment when the sun set below the horizon, one could see the heaven lit
up, not with the light of one sun, but with the gleam of many other stars,
for everyone lit torches, or wax-tapers (according to their means) fixed on
their spear-points. The prayers offered up by the army no doubt reached
the very vault of heaven, or shall I say that they were borne aloft to the
Lord God Himself. The fact that the emperor did not believe he could
attack the enemy without the help of God is proof, I think, of his piety,
for his confidence was stayed neither on men nor horses nor on machines
of war, but all his faith was placed in the power of the Lord on High.154
The imperial and apostolic ideal that was accomplished in the discourse
crafted around the image of Constantine the Great bore an important
political message on the renovation of the empire. That peculiarity of
Anna’s agenda countered the ideal personified in the image of emperor
John II Komnenos. Theodore Prodromos developed extensive high-brow
register of imperial epithets – ὁ νικητὴς ὁ Κομνηνὸς δεσπότης Ἰωάννης,
scepter-bearing victorious emperor, the ruler of the world (κοσμοκρατες),
the destructor of Persians (Περσόλεθρε), the slayer of Scythians and Dalma-
tians (Σκυθοδαλματοκτόνε), the great Sun of Rome.(ὦ μέγα Ῥώμης ἥλιε).155
Nikephoros Basilakes recalled the image of Constantine the Great: ‘What?
152 Alexiad, p. 169; Alexias, V 5,6 (59), p. 156.

153 The coinage from the time of Komnenian dynasty shows distinctive preference of warrior
saints – St. Demetrios, St. George and St. Theodore. See Handy, 1999, n.4, n.5, n.37, n.8, n.8c.1, n.23.
154 Alexiad, p. 256-257.
155 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XVI, p. 277. For variety of warlike and triumphant
motives see Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XI, XII, XV, XVI. This peculiar cultural vogue of
the Komnenian court was thoroughly analyzed by Stanković who explored the main motive and
imagery that was dominant in the new political discourse of John II Komnenos court. – Stanković,
2006, p. 198-223.
Enemies. Nay, as Lord himself had once, long ago, encouraged Constantine
the Great, now he emboldened you against Persians, and entrusted you a
victory and promised it. Through letters in the symbol simply, as once from
the sky, he invokes you: “here you have your celestial weapon, with this you
will win against your enemies in the same way as he once did”’.156
The image of Alexios in the Alexiad of Anna Komnene is actual derivative
of John II Komnenos’ court culture that professed a new political dynastic
ideology of the soldier emperor, conqueror and renovator of the glorious
Empire. Anna created a complex generic hybrid that claimed to be a ‘truth-
ful history’ about the artificial mixture of a Homeric hero and Eusebian
legendary emperor. Anna shaped her history according to the rules for
composing imperial oration, which is a paradox itself. This generic ploy
served Anna to embed auto-eulogy under the guise of ‘truthful history’.
Multilayered narrative landscape of the Alexiad is only touched upon in
the analysis of the picture of Alexios I Komnenos. Anna’s ‘Psellian literary
craftsmanship’ reached its climax in the ploy with characters. Who is the
actual protagonist of the whole drama remains to be explored in the next
chapters. The answer might surprise us all.
156 Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p. 68 (10.14): ‘ἀλλ’ὁ θεὸς αὐτός, ὡς
πάλαι Κωνσταντῖνον τὸν μέγαν, οὔτω καὶ νῦν σε τοῖς αὐτοῖς παραθαρρύνει κατὰ Περσῶν καί τὴν νίκην
παρεγγυᾶται καὶ προμηνστεύεταιι ἀπὸ γὰρ τῶν ἐν ξυμβόλῳ γραμμάτων ἀτεχνῶς, ὡς ἀπ’οὐρανοῦ,
προσεπιβοᾶται σοι «τοῦτό σοι τὸ ὅπλον οὐράνιον, ἐν τούτῳ καὶ σὺ νίκα νῦν τοὺς ἐχθροὺς ὡς ἐκεῖνος τὸ
πρότερον’.
3 Anna Komnene’s Periautologia
We must therefore look warily to ourselves when we recount praise received

from others and see that we do not allow any taint or suggestion of self-love and
self-praise to appear, lest we be thought to make Patroclus our excuse, a while we
are really singing our own praise.
− Plutarch, Moralia, p. 160-161)
Beyond the two main generic aspects of Anna’s work – being both a history
and panegyric of Alexios’ deeds, it is possible to detect a third discursive
pattern in the Alexiad, which is actually Anna’s ‘history about herself’ that
was put under the veil of the ultimate ‘truth’.1 The rhetorical persona of the
authoress that was constructed in the Alexiad enables us to understand its
subtext: the what and why of this literary endeavour. Almost as a fictional
character of presupposed history, Anna emerges to her readers in a literary
guise of a humble and timid woman shrouded in the rhetoric of women’s
lament. However, neither is Anna’s lament overwhelming in its quantitative
scope, nor we are deprived of a different emotional backdrop behind this
rhetorical persona.
Anna intended to present herself as the exclusive heir of the newly
established dynasty, and especially, to put forward her sui generis relation
with the imperial branches of her parents. Special affection (φιλία) between
the first-born princess and her parents, as a literary motif on which the
author intentionally persisted, was the basis of Anna’s political thought
concentrated on indisputable imperial right. The topic of ‘imperial ancestry’
was, however, nothing new for Anna Komnene. It was a topos established
in the poetry of John II’s court rhetors, who loudly celebrated his illustrious
imperial legacy.
1 In the use of the term ‘metanarrative’ I am not relying on Lyotard’ conception about ‘grand
narratives’ but on a basic meaning of the word ‘meta’ that alludes on the overarching idea of the
whole narrative, the one that is beyond it.
‘πάλιν συνῆθλον εἰς ταὐτὸν ἄμφω τὰ ‘Once more two divine families joined
θεῖα γένη, together in you,
‘τὸ Κομηνῶν καὶ τὸ Δουκῶν, εἰς γάμου Komnenoi and the Doukai, through
κοινωνίαν. marriage union.
Πάλιν συνεδενδρώθησαν εἰς μίαν once more they have grown together
συμφυΐαν into a single offspring
Κλάδος ὡραῖος Κομνηνῶν κλάδῳ a beautiful branch of the Komnenoi
Δουκῶν ὡραίῳ, with a graceful branch of the Doukai
ἄμφω καλοὶ καὶ θαυμαστοὶ καὶ both virtuous and marvellous and
θαλεροὶ καὶ νέοι blooming and young
καὶ θάλλοντες ἀρεϊκὸν καὶ together blossomed into a warlike
συνανθηφοροῦντες. brave sprout.’2
Anna’s self-laudation (περιαυτολογία) lies in the core of the work, and rep-
resents a particular narrative, different from the leading one, dedicated to
Alexios’ deeds. We have chosen to denote it a narrative, since it is composed
of various literary forms, and introduces numerous literary techniques.
Anna’s ‘autobiography’ is a complex narrative that, apart from obvious and
transparent writers’ intrusions into the text – usually, but not exclusively in
‘I’ from – also includes other forms, such as character depiction, presentation
of particular events and relations among protagonists, and also, motives
that support the central idea of the narrative.3 All these elements present
constitutional parts of Anna’s ‘personal history’, that is, a history from
the intimate perspective of the authoress with a clearly defined political
purpose of the work, composed exclusively for a self-promotion. A clear
distortion of events, characterisation of the protagonists and role of certain
personages during the rule of Alexios I Komnenos, was entirely dependent on
Anna’s ambitions, that lead to a creation of this grandiose history, in which
authoress had taken the first and exclusive place of a key protagonist for
herself. Anna introduced herself in the first chapter of the Prologue, with
the following words:
I, Anna, the daughter of two royal personages, Alexios and Irene, born
and bred in the purple. I was not ignorant of letters, for I carried my study
of Greek to the highest pitch, and was also not unpractised in rhetoric; I
perused the works of Aristotle and the dialogues of Plato carefully, and
enriched my mind by the ‘quaternion’ of learning. (I must let this out
2 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XIV, p. 269 (23.28).

3 cf. Reinsch, 2000, 83-105; Ljubarskij, 2000, 167-185, esp. 176-177; Neville, 2013.
ANNA KOMNENE’S PERIAUTOLOGIA 123
and it is not bragging to state what nature and my zeal for learning have
given me, and the gifts which God apportioned to me at birth and time
has contributed). 4
ἐγὼ Ἄννα, θυγάτηρ μὲν τῶν βασιλέων Ἀλεξίου καὶ Εἰρήνης, πορφύρας τιθήνημά
τε καὶ γέννημα, οὐ γραμμάτων οὐκ ἄμοιρος, ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ ἑλληνίζειν ἐς ἄκρον
ἐσπουδακυῖα καὶ ῥητορικῆς οὐκ ἀμελετήτως ἔχουσα καὶ τὰς ἀριστοτελικὰς
τέχνας εὖ ἀναλεξαμένη καὶ τοὺς Πλάτωνος διαλόγους καὶ τὸν νοῦν ἀπὸ τῆς
τετρακτύος τῶν μαθημάτων πυκάσασα. (δεῖ γὰρ ἐξορχεῖσθαι ταῦτα, καὶ οὐ
περιαυτολογία τὸ πρᾶγμα, ὅσα ἡ φύσις καὶ ἡ περὶ τὰς ἐπιστήμας σπουδὴ
δέδωκε καὶ ὁ Θεὸς ἄνωθεν ἐπεβράβευσε καὶ ὁ καιρὸς συνεισήνεγκε)5
There are several discursive markers that are set as tenets of Anna’s political
agenda, introduced already in this passage and elaborated further in the
text. Namely, the most important one is her imperial birth, which was
pointed out in the formula of the ‘purple birth’, or to say more correctly of
the ‘birth in the Porphyra’. The second premise is that she was daughter of
Alexios and Eirene, which again conformed the merging of the two illustrious
families according to the discursive pattern set in the rhetoric of John II
Komnenos’ period. Anna’s treatment of both imperial families – Komnenoi
and the Doukai – presents a topic of immense importance for understanding
in which way she manipulated her text and where are situated the most
important embedded allusions to her political supremacy over her sibling,
John II Komnenos.
Anna set the scene in the same way as Psellos did – she will be a pro-
tagonist in the history she is about to write, she will judge and assess the
characters and their actions, and, of course, she will place herself firmly
in relation to those personages to enhance her political argument. In
addition to this, Anna insists on the premise that her intention was not
for the cause of self-laudation (οὐ περιαυτολογία). Her outstanding literacy,
according to her – a God-given gift – was her means of describing the
deeds of her father to prevent them from falling into oblivion. Under the
pretext of answering to God’s gift, Anna chose to convey an ostentatious
story about herself.
4 Alexiad, p. 17.
5 Alexias, Prol. 1,2 (9.14).
Preponderance of the Origin
‘You were shown from the womb as a fruit of the holy Porphyra,
you were anointed Emperor from your empress-mother’s belly.
From your babyhood you were a fruitful branch with tinge of purple,
beautiful, born in crimson, brilliant from your birth,
destined from the womb for the rule of the Aussonians,
for power over the second Israel, newly named.’6
− Poem for the emperor Manuel I
The fundamental basis of Anna’s political argument is her testimony to being

imperial daughter, ‘born and bred in the purple’ – θυγάτηρ μὲν τῶν βασιλέων
Ἀλεξιου καὶ Εἰρήνης, πορφύρας τιθήνημα τε καὶ γέννημα. Anna emphasised
her imperial origin as a pivotal motive of her personal narrative, which
supplied her with the recognisance of indisputable legitimacy. The first
important ideological premise of her imperial legitimacy was primogeniture.
The second premise, and more significant than the first one in the time
when the Alexiad was written, was porphyrogennesis. Being born in the
purple in the time of the Komnenian dynasty was the hallmark of impe-
rial legitimacy. Actually, the time of the Komnenian dynasty changed the
ideological conception of porphyrogennesis, when a distinctive Komnenian
porphyrogennesis emerged, in which porphyrogennetos was the one who was
born into the Komnenian family and not in the purple chamber, Porphyra.7
Or to put it simply, the Komnenian family was equated with the Porphyra.
Porphyrogennesis was, undoubtedly, a crucial Komnenian imperial
epithet, being present in all media that professed imperial propaganda – on
coins, seals,8 in imperial enkomia and political verses, featuring as its vital
motive. John II Komnenos was ‘the victorious Komnenian, the blossom of the
Porphyra’ (ὁ νικὴτὴς ὁ Κομνηνὸς, τὸ τῆς πορφύρας ἄνθος)9, ‘the lord sprout of
the Porphyra’ (ἄναξ πορφυρόβλαστος), ‘the most famous purple-born emperor’
(πορφυρογεννήτοιο μεγακλεέος βασιλῆος), the fortunate porphyrogennetos
6 ἀπὸ σπαργάνων εὐανθὴς καὶ πορφυρίζων κλάδος,

ὡραῖος, ἐρυθρόβλαστος, λαμπρὸς ἐκ γενεθλίων,
προωρισμένος εἰς ἀρχὴν Αὐσόνων ἐκ νηδύος,
εἰς ἐξουσίαν Ἰσραὴλ δευτέρου, νεοκλήτου’.
Manganeios Prodromos, Poem 1, p. 17-18, (235.238).
7 Stanković, 2008, p. 102-103.
8 DO Seals 6, no.91.6.
9 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, IV, p. 207 (224); V, p. 214 (13).
John (πορφυρογεννὴς εὐτυχὴς Ἰωάννης).10 Being a purple-born gained a

completely new political dimension in the Komnenian epoch, as it referred
to the idea of direct connection to Alexios I Komnenos:
Ῥώμης δ’ἄναξ κράτιστος Ἀλεξιάδης Of the mightiest Roman ruler Alexios’

Πορφυρογεννὴς εὐτυχὴς Ἰωάννης, fortunate purple-born John,
ὅρπηξ Κομνηνῶν, ἐυθαλὴς Δουκῶν a scion of the Komnenians, a bloom of
κλάδος. the Doukas branch11
Porphyrogennesis was a discursive marker for all Alexios’ children, his direct
bloodline and imperial descendants, and singled them out as a distinct but
very specific group inside the Komnenian oikos.12 In the next generation
of his descendants, Alexios I Komnenos became the crucial element for
legitimizing the imperial right among his children, who were all ‘purple-
born’ (porphyrogennetoi), and therefore de jure equal. This paradox in
the imperial ideology had made all of the ‘purple-born’ Alexios’ children
virtually ‘legitimate’ heirs to the throne inasmuch as his first born son
John II Komnenos, which caused a fragmentation of the imperial right to
all of Alexios’ descendants.13 Hence, it was important for his heir to the
throne – the aforementioned John – to create some new, additional way of
legitimizing his own imperial right.14 For the first time in the Byzantine
imperial ideology, at the beginning of John’s reign, we encounter a motive of
a familial love that will become distinctive Komnenian imperial epithet. In
the poem called Mousai of Alexios I Komnenos on the advices of the dying
emperor to his son and successor, we encounter an interesting vocabulary in
the headline: ‘Alexios Komnenos, mother-loving, emperor, to his son, John
Porphyrogennetos, father-loving emperor’ (Ἀλεξίου Κομνηνοῦ φιλομήτορος
αὐτοκράτορος Ἰωάννῃ πορφυρογεννήτῴ νικητῇ αὐτοκράτορι φιλοπάτορι τῷ
εὐπάτορι).15 It is important to note that Mousai were most probably poem
composed at the beginning of John’s reign.16 Thus, a vocabulary and motives
10 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, ΙΙΙ, p. 196 (120); VI, p. 220 (5).
11 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, VII, p. 229-230 (8-10).
12 On porphyrogennesis in the Byzantine imperial ideology see Dagron, 1994, p. 105-142; Dagron,
2001, 51-58; Stanković, 2008, p. 99-108.
13 As Magdalino observed the ‘common ancestor Alexios was a point of reference in their
attempt to legitimise their ambitions. Each had a story to tell in which Alexios featured more
or less prominently’ – Magdalino, 2000, p. 18
14 Magdalino, 2000, p. 18.
15 Maas, The Mousai, p. 348.
16 cf. Magdalino,2000, p. 18; Stanković, 2006, p. 184-186.
that we encounter here were actually suited to strengthen John’s position

within the heterogeneous and ambitious Komnenian family. A distinctive
‘Komnenian philia’, as argued by Stanković, was a discursive marker of
how the new system of family government functioned – Alexios was a
‘mother-loving’ emperor – philometor – who ruled together with his mother
and partner, and was succeeded by his son ‘father-loving’ purple born
emperor John – philopator – who ruled together with his father and later
succeeded him.17 These newly accustomed epithets were highly important
since they indicated a ‘nature’ of the established political system. Thus, in
the vocabulary register of Nikephoros Basilakes we encounter a formula of
a brother-loving emperor, and brotherly love (philadelphia) that was suited
to particularise relationship between Alexios and his brother Isaac, who
also governed together.18
Therefore, a vocabulary register that indicates familial closeness and
familial love was given a distinctive political dimension in the Komnenian
epoch.19 We should not interpret these words as elaborate display of familial
relationship, because, paradoxically, there was nothing emotional in their
core. The notion of philia just served to ‘legitimise’ one particular member
or to show who ruled with whom, and which members of the oikos were
particularly favoured in a sense that they were given a partnership in the
rule. The oration of Basilakes to Adrian Komnenos, son of Isaac Komnenos,
Alexios’ brother, reveals peculiarities of this new political ideology, where
Adrian was lauded as a purple-born child, ‘born and bred in purple’, 20
since his father was ‘equal to the emperor’ (ἰσοβασιλεύς), and was also a
‘grandchild’ of the emperor Isaac I, who left to his descendants the Roman
scepter as his legacy (ὡς παππῴῳ κλήρῴ τῇ Ῥωμαίων ἀρχῇ προσεπιφαύσαντα
καὶ κοσμήσαντα).21 The next passage in his speech, Basilakes devoted to
elaboration of brotherly-love as a part of their closeness and their shared
rule.
The imperial epithet philopator emphasised the closeness with the
emperor-father, the great founder of the dynasty. Inextricably interwoven
with this, in Komnenian panegyrics, was a motive of love. A great filial
love towards father, emperor Alexios, was very important motive of John’s
imperial ideology, which was used to denote John’s exclusivity among all
17 Stanković, 2006, p. 155, stressed ‘the fact that Anna Dalassena’s son was a φιλομήτωρ had,
apart from inner-familial, also a political significance’.
18 Basilakes, In Ioannem Ep. Bulgariae, p. 30.
19 This was thoroughly analysed by Stanković, 2006, p. 176-209.
20 Basilakes, In Ioannem Ep. Bulgariae, p. 29 (20.30).
21 Basilakes, In Ioannem Ep. Bulgariae, p. 30 (20.25).
other ‘purple-born’ siblings ‘for the son destined to adorn the throne’.22 It
is one of the driving motives in the Mousai:
‘ἐπεί δὲ, τέκνον καὶ γονὴ πεφιλμένη, But since, my child and beloved
ἑμαυτὸν ἄλλον καὶ τόπαζω καὶ λέγω, offspring,
καὶ γὰρ πατρώζεις καὶ πατρὸς χαίρεις I both divine and say that you are my
τρόποις’ second self
– for you take after your father and
delight in your father’s ways.23
Motive of love was not an encomiastic amplification, but rather a very

important element of the Komnenian imperial ideology. All these imperial
epithets and motives are found in the Alexiad of Anna Komnene. A political
dimension of the familial love is manifested in the text of the Golden Bull in
which Alexios nominated his mother as the head of imperial government.
There, she was described as a ‘child-loving’ mother (μητρὸς συμπαθοῦς καὶ
φιλόπαιδος).24 This is an important testimony for understanding in which
way the usage of specific word worked in Komnenian epoch since the Golden
Bull was a document issued on behalf of the emperor and was transferred
verbatim to Anna’s text.25 As Stanković suggested ‘these words functioned
as codes in Komnenian ideology’.26
Anna took over this ploy with codes and explained that Anna Dalassene
acceded to help her son in managing the imperial affairs ‘solely because she
loved her son’ (ἀλλ’ἦν γε καὶ φιλόπαις) and was ‘overwhelmed by motherly
emotions’ (τὸ τοίνυν μητρῷον πάθος κατεῖχεν αὐτήν).27 In the same fashion
she described her father as philometor, when she referred to his relationship
with the mother – immediately upon ascending the throne he had ordained
that she should be referred to as despoina.28 In this particular case, it seems
to me that Anna was ironic toward the way Alexios’ preferred to rule, giving
his mother supreme power. It seems odd that Anna would criticise Alexios’
choice to give over to his mother, and a woman, a fair amount of power, but
the hint of sarcasm in this part of the text might had alluded to the unjust
22 Maas, The Mousai, (17).

23 Maas, The Mousai, II. (9.12).
24 Alexias, III 6,4 (44.45), p. 101.
25 cf. Stanković, 2006, p. 152-153.
26 Stanković, 2006, p. 151.
27 Alexias, III 6,2 (23), (30), p. 100.
28 Alexias, III 2,7 (82), p. 93: ‘οἱ δὲ ἐπαναστρέψαντες ἀπαγγέλλουσι τῇ δεσποίνῃ τὰ μηνυθέντα·
ἔφθασαν γὰρ ἤδη οὕτω ταύτην καλεῖν ἅπαντες τοῦ φιλομήτορος βασιλέως τοῦτο βουλομένου’.
disposition of power within the imperial family, where Anna’s mother was
completely deprived of her share. Just one generation before, Psellos had used
the same term in derogatory meaning to explain Severus’ dependence upon
his mother stating that he ‘loved her more than it was necessary’ (φιλόμητωρ
πλέον τοῦ δέοντος).29 Anna’s use of the same word could be interpreted in the
same fashion – Alexios loved her mother at that moment more that it was
necessary. Conversely, Psellos used the term philopator, and the syntagm
that one was ‘father-loving more than all others’ to denote the succession
line among Constantine’s sons: Ὁ βασιλεὺς Κωνσταντῖνος ὁ Κώνσταντος
φιλοπάτωρ ἦν εἴπερ τις ἄλλος. Εὐθὺς γὰρ ἅμα τῷ τὴν βασιλείαν κατασχεῖν εἰς
Σικελίαν ἐκπλεύσας κατῆρε τοὺς τοῦ πατρὸς φονέας τιμωρησόμενος.30
The political resonance of this term is also present in the generation
of writers after Anna Komnene. In John Kinnamos history, Manuel I was
described as a ‘father-loving’ emperor in the moment when John II Komnenos
was dying. The imagery of a loving and caring son, imbued with pathos
heavily resounds with discourse of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad.
And the child (being a father-loving more than anyone else) being respect-
ful by the law of nature, he bowed down and threw his head on his chest
filling the soil with his tears.
ὁ δὲ παῖς (ἦν γὰρ φιλοπάτωρ εἴπερ τις ἄλλος) καὶ φύσεως θεσμοὺς εὐλαβούμενος
κάτω νενευκὼς καὶ ἐπὶ στέρνα τὴν κεφαλὴν ῥίπτων δάκρυσι τὸ δάπεδον
ἔπλυνε.31
There was actually nothing emotional in this scene – it was just an embel-
lished rhetorical description of the new way in which the empire was ruled.32
Vice versa, Anna Komnene’s pathos and description of her love towards
parents, served to assert her exclusive legitimacy among all Alexios’ children.
John Kinnamos said precisely the same thing ‘among them all, Manuel loved
his father most’, and that was just a literary means of the author to point
out to the readers who will be John II Komnenos’ successor.
29 Psellos, Historia Syntomos, p. 40 (26): ‘Ἀλέξανδρος ὁ Μαμαίας παῖς. Νεανίας οὗτος ὁ βασιλεὺς καὶ
φιλομήτωρ πλέον τοῦ δέοντος. Οὐδὲ γὰρ ἔπραττέ τι ἀφ’ ἑαυτοῦ, ἀλλὰ τῇ μητρὶ φιλαρχούσῃ ὑπέκειτο’.
30 Psellos, Historia Syntomos, 80 (39).
31 Kinnamos, Epitome, p. 23 (17).
32 Stanković, 2006, p. 165, observes that ‘the connection with the father emperor bear its
greatest and factual political importance in the reign of Manuel I Komnenos’.
The story of the Imperial Birth – essence of Anna’s political

agenda
Anna’s story about her birth conveys important ideological motives that
affirm her imperial legitimacy, and that can be followed throughout of the
whole narrative. Nevertheless, all crucial motives are merged in this single
episode, which we find as a pivotal autobiographical passage, with highly
political background. These motives are:
– birth in the Porphyra;
– exclusive likeness to the father;
– connection with the imperial branch of the Doukai genos;
– connection with the branch of caesar John Doukas;
– specific connection with both parents.
All of these aforementioned elements support the thesis of Anna’s tendency

to present the uniqueness of her origin and birth, compared to the rest of
Alexios’ progeny.
Sprout from the Porphyra33
In the passage about the birth of the three imperial scions, we find the
episode of Anna’s birth longest and the most descriptive one. It is interesting
that this particular chapter starts with Alexios’ victorious return to the
capital from the war campaign against Robert Guiscard. This triumphant
atmosphere was apparently chosen as an effective narrative landscape for a
bigger and more important triumph that immediately comes after Emperor’s
arrival. It was the birth of the Emperor’s first child, which announced the
emergence of a new dynasty.
The importance and symbolic of the ‘purple birth’ are emphasised in
a passage where Anna gives us a detailed description of the Porphyra
chamber, the only one preserved to this day of this important chamber of
the Constantinopolitan Great Palace:
This purple room was a certain building in the palace shaped as a complete
square from its base to the spring of the roof, which ended in a pyramid; it
looked out upon the sea and the harbour where the stone oxen and lions
33 On importance of being a purple-born in the Byzantine state ideology see – Dagron, 1994,
passim; during Komnenian epoque, ibid. p. 118-119; Dagron, 2001, p. 51-58; On specific understand-
ing and meaning of this phenomenon for the Komnenian dynasty – Stanković, 2008, passim.
stand. The floor of this room was paved with marbles and the walls were
panelled with it but not with ordinary sorts nor even with the more expen-
sive sorts which are fairly easy to procure, but with the marble which the
earlier Emperors had carried away from Rome. And this marble is, roughly
speaking, purple all over except for spots like white sand sprinkled over it. It
is from this marble, I imagine, that our ancestors called the room purple.34
At the beginning of the chapter, Anna clearly asserted that the Empress gave
birth in the chamber called Porphyra, in a special secluded space within
the Great Palace which was, since olden times, designated for the imperial
delivery.35 After brief explanation of the ‘purple birth’ tradition, the author
continued with the main theme:
And at dawn (it was a Saturday) a baby girl was born to them, who
resembled her father, so they said; in all respects. I was that baby.36
κατὰ δὲ τὸ περίορθρον (Σάββατον δὲ ἦν) τίκτεται τούτοις παιδίον θῆλυ ἐμφερές,

ὡς ἔλεγον, κατὰ πάντα τῷ πατρί· ἐγὼ δὲ ἄρα ἦν τοῦτο.37
It is highly indicative that Anna begun the story of her birth with a recol-
lection of the significance and importance of being born in the Porphyra.
Even more striking is Anna’s avoidance of making any allusions to the purple
birth with the birth of the other two imperial children, her sister Maria, and
brother John. In the Alexiad, they are designated as porphyrogennetoi,38 but
not in the story where we mostly expected that epithet to be found. The
prelude of birth in the Porphyra was reserved only for Anna’s own life-story.
This way, we face a clear picture of Anna’s ‘purple birth’, which is depicted
in a highly personal tone, where special emphasis is laid on the exceptional
connection between a first-born imperial daughter and her parents.
Likeness to her father
The description of the birth of the three imperial scions represents the
affirmation of Anna’s ‘supremacy’ not only in relation to her younger sister
34 Alexias, VII 2,4 (71.80), p. 205.

35 Alexias, VI 8,1 (81.84), p. 183.
36 Alexiad, p. 196.
37 Alexias, VI 8,1 (84.86), p. 184.
38 Maria – Alexias, X 3,5 (60); John – Alexias, XII 4,4 (43), XIII 12,2 (18); 3 (37); 4 (44); 15(72); 27 (18).
Maria, but primarily in relation to her brother John Komnenos. A likeness

to her father, which follows the story of her birth, is the most important
element of Anna’s political ideology, by which she tended to emphasise
her supremacy over brother John. None of the other children completely
resembled their father as she did. Maria was ‘like her ancestors’ (ἀναφέρον
μὲν κατὰ τὴν ὂψιν ές τοὺς προγόνους), while John, as we are able to discern
from his description, did not bear any likeness to their parents at all. This
decreasing gradation in the physical resemblance to the imperial parents,
presents Maria and John, in comparison to Anna, quite far from their parents,
and especially from Alexios. Anna attributed to herself the exclusive and
unique likeness to the emperor Alexios. In this manner, she focused on the
symbolic idea of herself as the only heir of the father-emperor.39
Direct comparison between father and son was the discursive simile
that clearly denoted one’s successor. In the Alexiad, Anna used this figure
to describe that Bohemond, albeit being younger of his sons was an actual
successor of his father and the protagonist of the history:
Bohemond, [the younger of his sons, L.V.], resembled his father in all
respects, in daring, strength, aristocratic and indomitable spirit. In short,
Bohemond was the exact replica and living image of his father. 40
ὸν μέντοι Βαϊμοῦντον, τὸν νεώτερον τῶν υἱέων αὐτοῦ καὶ κατὰ πάντα παρεμφερῆ
τῷ πατρὶ καὶ τόλμαν καὶ ῥώμην καὶ γενναιότητα καὶ θυμὸν ἀκατάσχετον (ὅλως
γὰρ οὗτος τοῦ πατρὸς ἀποσφράγισμα ἦν καὶ τῆς ἐκείνου φύσεως ἔμψυχον
ἐκμαγεῖον). 41
39 An art historian, Myrto Hatzaki, presented an interesting observation on images of the

monastery founders where she stressed some important differences in an ideal presentation of
male and female figures. She observed that male portraits, in comparison to female portraits,
bear certain personal features, which are usually transmitted to their male descendants, as
means of the successor prominence. In this way, visual features of the fathers and their first-born
sons signalise special distinction of the chosen successors in comparison to the rest of the
family members. For a typical example of this phenomenon, Hatzaki chose a mosaic of John II
Komnenos, his wife Eirene and his successor Alexios in the church of Hagia Sophia. In spite of
the ideal image of the rulers we encounter in this case, there are obvious physical similarities
between father and son. On the other hand, the features of the female figures correspond more
to the ideal features of the physical beauty in accordance with the esthetical canons of female
beauty, with significantly lower degree of individuality. – Hatzaki, 2009, 25-27.
40 Alexiad, p. 66.
41 Alexias, I 14,4 (34.37), p. 48.
The imagery of father and son in the poem on the coronation of John II
Komnenos’ successor Alexios Komnenos highlights the motives of their
resemblance:42
ἥλιε καὶ παρήλιε, δύο λαμπροὶ sun and the other sun-beside, two
φώστῆρες, radiant lights,
πατὴρ καὶ τέκνον βασιλεῖς, father and son the emperors, born in
βλαστήματα πορφύρας, Porphyra,
σωτῆρες Ῥώμης νεαρᾶς, πύργων saviours of the new Rome, well-forti-
εὐτάφρων δόξα, fied towers of glory
ἰσοταχεῖς ἰσοφεγγεῖς ὁμότιμοι equally expedient and equally splen-
μεγάλοι. did, equally honoured and great.
The birth story is actually the application of the topic from Menander’s
basilikos logos that one should start with the laudation of the country (ἐπὶ
τὴν πατρίδα) and family (περὶ τοὺ γένους) of the praised one and supply the
enkomion with the ‘birth’ (περὶ γενέσεως) that was preceded or followed by
some divine sign. 43
After ‘birth’, you must say something about ‘nature’ (περὶ φύσεως), e.g.:
“Straight from the labour of his mother’s womb, he shone forth radiant in
beauty, dazzling the visible universe, rivaling the fairest star in the sky.”
Next comes the ‘nurture’ (ἡ άνατροφή). Was he reared in the palace? Where
his swaddling-clothes robes of purple? Was he from his f irst growth
brought up in the lap of royalty? Or instead, was he raised up to be emperor
as a young man by some felicitous chance?44
It is characteristic for the Alexiad that it begins with Alexios’ youth, and
not with his birth. The omission of Alexios’ earliest days has its ideological
meaning, since it enabled the authoress to avoid the story of Alexios impe-
rial predecessor, Isaac Komnenos. On the other side, Anna used a story of
her own birth as a crucial part of her auto-eulogy that followed the rules
of Menander Rhetor. Anna described her birth as a magnificent event of
the first born imperial scion, as a proof of the supremacy of her origin in
comparison to all other porphyrogennetoi, since she was the first ‘scion
of the Komnenians, a bloom of the Doukas’ born and bred in purple, and
42 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, I, p. 177 (6.9).

43 Menander Rhetor, Basilikos logos, p. 78-83.
44 Menander Rhetor, Basilikos logos, p. 82-83.
above all, a beloved daughter of her parents, bearing a unique likeness to

her father. We can analyze Anna’s description according to the quoted
passage from Menander:
– Her patris was Constantinople, a purple room, which implied that her
‘swaddling clothes’ were purple.
– Her illustrious genos is imperial.
– Her genesis was all imperial and even in her mother’s womb she was
both ‘mother-loving and father-loving scion’ (φιλομήτωρ κατὰ ταὐτὸν
ἐγεγόνειν καὶ φιλοπάτωρ), showing her exquisite love towards her parents
before being born. Her magical connection with the father is the focal
point for the story of her birth, where she waited for his triumphant
return from war to be born.
– From her ‘f irst growth’ she was ‘brought up in the lap of royalty’:
‘When all the ceremonies usual at the birth of royal children had been
faithfully performed (the acclamations, I mean, and gifts and honours
presented to the leaders of the Senate and army), there was, I am told,
un unprecedented burst of joy […] After a determined interval of time
my parents honoured me too with a crown and imperial diadem.’45
Anna’s manner of shaping a self-laudatory narrative coincides completely

with the literary style of Michael Italikos in his basilikos logos for young
Manuel I Komnenos, composed in 1143:
Everything was straightaway imperial and delightful, your country, your

family, your nature, your fortune, the symbols of your birth, and those
that followed your birth […] for your patris that gives you the authority
and makes you special is the Porphyra that draws the boundaries between
you and the rest and presents you clearly distinctive. At the same time a
child was proclaimed to be a purple-born, it was a token of being blessed,
in the same way as it was a divine sign for Achilles being born to Thetis.
[…] You are the sprout of the widely-known Porphyra. 46
Anna asserted once more a special place within the inner circle of the
imperial oikos and unique relationship with the father, in the Book XV: ‘I
[…] the most honourable from the Porphyra and Alexios’ eldest scion’. (καὶ
τῆς πορφύρας τὸ τιμώτατον καὶ τῶν Ἀλεξίου πρώτιστον βλάστημα)47
45 Alexiad, p. 198-197.
46 Italikos, Discours a Manuel Comnène, p. 278.
47 Alexias, XV, 9.1, p. 489.
If we consider the time when the last book of the Alexiad was written
– after the death of Anna’s brother, powerful and victorious emperor John
II – her statement seems even more striking. She intentionally stressed her
preeminence over her deceased brother emperor by denoting herself as
‘the most honourable purple-born’ (τῆς πορφύρας τὸ τιμώτατον βλάστημα),
even though the most honourable Alexios’ child was indisputably his elder
son John and successor, the real founder of the Komnenian dynasty and
establisher of the new imperial ideology. Moreover, she used precisely
encoded terms found overwhelmingly used by Prodromos in his political
verses for John Komnenos – πορφυρόβλαστος. In the Alexiad, the only offshoot
of the Porphyra – porphyroblastos – was Anna Komnene. Anna’s use of this
peculiar register expressed her craving to outshine emperor-brother and
political opponent.
Connection to the imperial branch of the Doukai
Anna’s story about her connection with the imperial branch of the Doukai
can be considered a fundamental part of her claim for the imperial throne.
Not surprisingly, the connection with the Doukai was part of accustomed
imperial vocabulary register. In the epitaph verses for John II Komnenos,
Prodromos stressed his double imperial ancestry, both from the Komnenoi
and the Doukai:
Κομνηνόθεν γὰρ ἐξέφυν καὶ Δουκόθεν. 48
The merging of the two imperial families produced, as Stanković defined

it, one supreme genos ‘that almost completely encompassed all imperial
traditions within its scope’. 49 During his lifetime, John II Komnenos was
praised for his double imperial ancestry – a famous ancestor of the Komnenoi
was Isaac I, and of the Doukai was Constantine X. However, neither of these
two was their (John’s and Anna’s) direct bloodline, but both were actually
great-uncles – Isaac was brother of their grandfather John Komnenos, and
Constantine X was brother of their great-grandfather caesar John Doukas.
However, there was a slight distinction between John II and Anna Komnene
in their relationship with the Doukai. By her betrothal to ‘purple-born’
Constantine Doukas, a son of the late emperor Michael VII Doukas (1067-
1078), Anna was connected directly to the imperial branch of Constantine
48 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XXV, p. 336 (8).

49 Stanković, 2006, p. 202.
X (1059-1067).50 Thus, she was the only one among other porphyrogennetoi
that could claim a direct connection with the imperial branch of the Doukai.
But her claim went even more than that. She claimed she had particular
relationships with both her parents in relation to all other siblings.
In the description of the lavish ceremonies on her birth, Anna stressed that
she was adorned with the imperial diadem (μετρητῶν δέ τινων παρελθουσῶν
ἡμερῶν στέφους κἀμὲ ἀξιοῦσιν οἱ γονεῖς καὶ βασιλικου διαδήματος).51 The
statement about Anna being given an imperial diadem from her parents’
hands is highly indicative, since in the further text, in the passage about
John’s coronation, this particular information is omitted.52
The destiny of the son and heir, John, and his coronation, was taken
charge of by ‘certain’ people. In text we are faced with impersonal ‘τουτὶ’
form – ‘they’ wanted to raise him to imperial heights, and considered him
50 Constantine X Doukas (1059-1067) was the f irst emperor from the Doukai family. His
wife was Eudokia Macrembolitissa from the renowned family of the patriarch Michael Ker-
oularios. The imperial couple had three sons – Michael, Andronikos and Konstantios – and
three daughters – Anna, Theodora and Zoe. After Constantine X died, his brother – Caesar
John Doukas – took care of his children. Eudokia was not supposed to be married, according
to sources, and there was even a written promise signed that she will not remarry in order not
to endanger her children, but she married Romanos IV Diogenes (1067-1072), and gave birth to
two more sons – Nikephoros and Leo/Constantine Diogenes. Eudokia’s wrong move provoked
retribution of Caesar John Doukas, who acted as ‘guardian of the Doukai’, and contrived a plot to
depose Romanos, abate the influence of Eudokia and rise to power Michael Doukas. His closest
ally was Michael Psellos. These two prominent ringleaders were responsible for the blinding
and death of the emperor Romanos Diogenes. Michael VII was raised to the throne, but very
soon he fell under the influence of the logothete Nicephoritzes who sidelined his uncle, Caesar
John, from the court, and with him also Michael Psellos. In these turbulent years, Caesar John
proclaimed himself emperor, but he withdrew very soon and took monastic habit. However,
this did not prevent Caesar John from being actively involved in the imperial politics, where he
made a greatest political move by connecting through marriage alliance with the Komnenoi. His
granddaughter Eirene Doukaina was married to Alexios Komnenos, a nephew of the emperor
Isaac I Komnenos (1057-1059).
51 Alexias, VI 8,3 (17.18).
52 Anna’s coronation: μετρητῶν δέ τινων παρελθουσῶν ἡμερῶν στέφους κἀμὲ ἀξιοῦσιν οἱ γονεῖς καὶ
βασιλικοῦ διαδήματος. ἐπεὶ δὲ Κωνσταντίνου τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος Μιχαὴλ τοῦ Δούκα, περὶ
οὗ πολλάκις ὁ λόγος ἐμνήσθη, συμβασιλεύοντος ἔτι τῷ αὐτοκράτορι καὶ ἐμῷ πατρὶ κἀν ταῖς δωρεαῖς
δι’ἐρυθρῶν συνυπογράφοντος τούτῳ κἀν ταῖς προπομπαῖς μετὰ τιάρας αὐτῷ συνεπομένου κἀν ταῖς
εὐφημίαις δευτέρου εὐφημουμένου κἀγὼ εὐφημεῖσθαι ἔμελλον, Κωνσταντῖνον καὶ Ἄνναν ἐν ταὐτῷ
ἐξεφώνουν ἐν τοῖς τῆς εὐφημίας καιροῖς οἱ τῆς εὐφημίας προεξάρχοντες – Alexias, VI 8,3 (16.24),
p. 184-185.
John’s coronation: ἐθέλοντες τοιγαροῦν τουτὶ τὸ παιδίον εἰς τὴν αὐτοκράτορα περιωπὴν ἀναβιβάσαι
καὶ κλῆρον οἷον αὐτῷ τὴν βασιλείαν Ῥωμαίων καταλιπεῖν, εἰς τὴν τοῦ Θεοῦ μεγάλην ἐκκλησίαν τοῦ
θείου βαπτίσματος καὶ τοῦ στέφους αὐτὸ ἀξιοῦσι. – Alexias, VI 8,5 (45.48), p. 185-186.
heir of the Roman Empire.53 Of course, one could easily connect ‘they’ with
the imperial parents, which is clear from the modern translation. However,
I do not think that Anna coincidentally omitted to use the word ‘parents’.
I would always opt for Tzetzes’ cautiousness that ‘Homer writes nothing
without consideration, even the trifles.’
Adhering herself to the role and importance of Constantine Doukas
as the legitimate heir of the late emperor, Anna sought to reaffirm her
‘imperial right’ once more. She did not omit to mention that Constantine
was Alexios’ co-ruler (συμβασιλεύοντος ἔτι τῷ αὐτοκράτορι καὶ ἐμῷ πατρὶ), but
even more important, she did not bypass a note on herself being included
in imperial proclamations alongside with Constantine Doukas. This way,
she put herself on the imperial pedestal, next to Constantine who ‘signed
with a red ink’ (δί ἐρυθρῶν συνυπογράφοντος) and provided for herself an
aura of a ‘double legitimacy’.
It is interesting that Anna neither mentioned her betrothal to Doukas,
nor she dealt in any way with that particular subject. A focus was put on
the imperial rank she was honoured with, and on her ‘unity’ in imperial
rights with Constantine Doukas. However, a peculiar place that was given
to Constantine Doukas in Anna’s narrative with the authoress’ deep pathos
accompanied by it, is, to say the least, surprising. One should bear in mind
that Anna was writing in her sixties, fifty years after Constantine Doukas
had been deprived of his right of succession. In addition, her betrothal to
Constantine Doukas was a completely outdated and irrelevant fact from
the past during the reign of Manuel I Komnenos, and yet she imbued it with
such symbolism. Moreover, she was the widow of another man, and yet we
are witnesses of her lament over her first fiancée. The peculiarity of this
whole issue is that the same story was repeated again in the funeral oration
for Anna Komnene by George Tornikes, which was composed immediately
after the Alexiad. Hence, motives and themes that are developed by Tornikes
in his oration are actually direct testimony of Alexiad’s readership and of
the ways in which the crucial tenets of Anna’s agenda were understood by
her contemporaries.
As for the narrative section on the imperial birth, it is important to note
that princess refers to the circumstances of her birth as ‘perhaps symbolic
of what should befall her later, whether it can be called good or on the
contrary, ill fortune’.54 Even though Anna does not deal in particular with
53 These very interesting traits of Anna’s testimony were first emphasised by Stanković, 2016,
p. 15.
54 Alexias, VI 8,3 (27.28), p. 185.
details concerning her ill fortune, if we consider the narrative structure here,
and what follows after, we come to the story of John’s birth, his baptism
and coronation in the church of Hagia Sophia. Anna’s promise that ‘what
happened to’ them ‘later on will be told in the appropriate place’, was never
fulfilled openly. It was a figure aposiopesis, when a writer ‘breaks off sud-
denly, leaving some impression on the audience of what was to be said’.
The impression she left on her audience, according to text structure and
sequence of the events distant in time, was that the story of the birth of
the three imperial scions was a story about an ill fortune that befell Anna
Komnene after the birth of her younger brother, John Komnenos.
Connection with the parents
A specif ic connection with the parents as another motive of Anna’s

autobiographical discourse is manifested in the special type of family
love – philia – which was, as already stressed, an important motive of the
Komnenian imperial ideology. With regard to this specific love that indicated
her connection with the parents, Anna chose for herself an indisputable
first place among all purple-born children of Alexios I and Eirene. Anna’s
particular pathos regarding her parents and her mutual relation with them
can be analysed through two important elements:
1 Anna’s use of the term ‘father-loving’ and ‘mother-loving’;
2 Anna’s use of personal pronouns.
Use of specific terms as a reflection of the family closeness

Anna associated herself with Alexios’ inheritance, by creating a picture
of her unique resemblance to her father. Nevertheless, concerning Anna’s
emphasis laid on her imperial right, the most important element is certainly
the use of a far resounding epithets φιλοπάτωρ (father-loving), for denoting
her love towards father, and φιλομήτωρ (mother-loving), for denoting love
towards mother.55
As we have already observed, the idea of a mother-loving emperor in
the time of Alexios was remodelled in the next generation, and appeared
in the new role of the father-loving emperor. Specific connection with
the father contained an important ideological role – it denoted the only
one, chosen, successor of Alexios. Precisely the term ‘father-loving’ was
promulgated by John II to stress the fact that he was a chosen successor
of his father-emperor among all other purple-born children of the ruling
55 Stanković stressed the emphasis that was put on the motive of familial love.
imperial oikos, and that is why this ideological term was crucial for Anna
in the creation of an alternative political discourse. Prodromos especially
stressed the idea of the Komenian imperial legacy, although we encounter
praises of both families. However, John was, after all ‘Alexios’ brave son’
(Ἀλεξίου ἄλκιμος υἱός) Komenian ruler (ὁ Κομνηνὸς δεσπότης), whose four
sons were ‘born from the Porphyra through his father’ (τῆς πατρογεννοῦς
ἐκφυέντας πορφύρας).56 Through these discursive markers John emanated
the message that empire was his inheritance (κληρονομία). Probably the most
grandiloquent summary of John’s ‘political propaganda’ was delivered in
Prodromos poem on the occasion of John’s coronation of his future successor
Alexios. This is precisely the event that called for such a topic, where the
imperial legacy of the Komnenoi is established through the emperor Isaac
Komnenos, and the imperial legacy of the Doukai is established through
the image of the emperor Constantine X Doukas and his son that ruled
after him. The focal point of the imperial ancestry is Alexios Komnenos,
who should serve as a model to be imitated and after whose illustrious
contests should his descendants strive. The formula of ‘father and son, the
emperors’ is emphasised, as much as ‘sprouting from the Porphyra’ which
was precisely due to ‘so many sceptre-bearing kinsmen’.57
John, Anna and Isaac Komnenos were immersed in mutual ideological
contest, where each one of them created a picture of their own exclusivity
and affinity in association with Alexios I Komnenos.58
In the Alexiad, Anna described herself four times as a ‘father-loving’.59
Twice, she explained the use of this epithet as a ‘task of a historian’. She
inquires what can forbear someone to be both, simultaneously, a ‘father-
loving’ and a ‘truth-loving’ (τί γὰρ κωλύει, πρὸς ἀληθείας αὐτῆς, καὶ φιλοπάτορα
εἶναι κατὰ ταὐτον τινὰ καὶ φιλαλήθη?)60 Anna addressed her audience for
possible accusations of bias, stressing that her ‘father-loving’ sentiment was
not for purposes of a self-laudation. As she explains occasionally, she does not
write about her father’s deeds in order to praise herself (ὅτι περιαυτολογοῦσα
καταλαμβάνομαι). She opposes to anonymous invectives directed towards
her impartiality, especially in the passages where she mentions the love for
her father, or any other kind of emotional bond towards the emperor, and
elaborates further against distortion of the truth.61
56 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, VII, p. 230 (15).

57 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, I, p. 181 (130.144).
58 Magdalino, 2000, p. 17-21; Stanković, 2006, p. 166-168; 270-288.
59 Alexias, IV 8,1 (89); VI 8,2 (3); XV 3,4 (43.54); 11,2 (33).
60 Alexias, XV 3,4 (43.44).
61 Alexias, XV 3,4 (54.56).
However, despite this, Anna did confirm, although indirectly, the very
particular background of her history.62 Her story is in its essence a self-
praise (περιαυτολογία), focused on Anna’s filial connection with the leading
character of the main narrative, the emperor Alexios I Komnenos. That
connection was presented through the important political term ‘father-
loving’ (φιλοπάτωρ), confined in the form of history and invested with the
idea of the ultimate truth (ἀληθεία). Therefore, Anna’s testimony on her
unique place within the imperial oikos, that is, on her legitimacy that was
attested in the epithet of the ‘father-loving’ daughter, was, according to
the author, a complete and unbiased truth. Stanković argues that Anna
Komnene was actually responsible for making these terms part of literary
register, which were not, coincidentally, later present in the Funeral oration
for her by George Tornikes’.63
Anna is certainly a pioneer among all other porphyrogennetoi in self-
attributing both of the two most important Komnenian imperial epithets.64
She usurped John’s epithet of the ‘father-loving’ emperor, and what is even
more indicative, she utilised Alexios’ epithet of the ‘mother-loving’ emperor
to describe her relationship with the mother, Empress Eirene Doukaina.
In the meaning of emotional closeness with the parents, Anna used both
terms in pair, in the two most important episodes of her autobiographical
narrative – in the story of her birth and in the story of Alexios’ last days.
With a fulfilment of her mother’s wish – to wait in her mother’s womb for
the emperor’s return – she demonstrated, even before she was born, that
outstanding love towards her parents (πρὸς τοὺς γειναμένους εὔνοιαν ἀριδήλως
ὑπεσημαίνετο), that was to become the main feature of her character in
later years.
In the following lines she says: ‘For I became a father-loving as equally as
I was a mother-loving’ (φιλομήτωρ κατὰ ταὐτὸν ἐγεγόνειν καὶ φιλοπάτωρ).65
A message here is clear – at the very beginning of her life she demonstrated
that exceptional love towards both of her parents, which she emphasised
once more in the final book of the Alexiad in the similar statement: ‘I was
equally a father-loving and a mother-loving from the cradle’ (φιλοπάτωρ τὲ
ἅμα φιλομήτωρ ἐξ αὐτῶν σπαργάνων γεγενημένη).66 She submitted the proof
62 As Stanković put it: ‘The generally accepted objectiveness of the historical genre allowed
them to skillfully incorporate into historical narrative the subjective character of the personal
memories’ – Stanković, 2011c, p. 59.
63 Stanković, 2006, p. 165; p. 193-194.
64 Stanković, 2006, p. 189-194.
65 Alexias, VI 8,2 (3).
66 Alexias, XV 11,2 (33), p. 494.
of her love, a sort of auto da fé, in the final chapters of the Alexiad, where she
reserved for herself a first place of the loving and caring daughter, crushed
by grief for the loss of a beloved father.
With the careful use of the imperial epithets ‘φιλοπάτωρ’ and ‘φιλομήτωρ’,
Anna intentionally appropriated imperial motives of familial love from both,
Alexios’ and John’s periods. She was a ‘father-loving’ as John II Komnenos
was, but maybe even more important – she was also a ‘mother-loving’ as
the founder of dynasty was. Anna made a shrewd move in comparison to
the other porphyrogennetoi, by emphasizing the emotional closeness with
her mother’s side of the family, claiming the heirdom of Eirene Doukaina
for herself. However, she was not first one to claim this special bond with
the empress mother. That move was made by her younger brother, Isaac
Komnenos, in his endowment, the monastery of Virgin Kosmosoteira.67
Anna went further in her claim by connecting with the imperial branch of
the Doukai oikos. Among all Alexios’ children, Anna was the only one who
was nurtured by the empress Maria of Alania, and acclaimed together with
purple-born Constantine Doukas, whose one of the supreme credentials
was Doukai’s imperial legacy.
Possessive pronouns as a sign of closeness

Very important aspects of Anna’s ways of connecting with the protagonists
of her history are specific syntagmatic phrases and possessive pronouns.
In this respect, absolutely dominant is Alexios I Komenos, who is usually
presented through whole syntagma ‘Emperor Alexios and My Father’ (Ὁ
βασιλεὺς Ἀλέξιος καὶ ἐμὸς πατὴρ), with some variations:
– changes of the words in cases;
– omission of the emperor’s name, since in the text after Book III he is
the only ‘emperor and my father’;
– omission of the title and the use of the formula ‘my father’ only.
Therefore, throughout the whole text we encounter the following syntagm:

‘the emperor and my father’, ‘my father Alexios’, ‘my father Komnenos
Alexios’ or even, and very often, just ‘my father’. It is significant to note
that Anna used a word ‘father’ to stress her connection with the leading
character and to focus readers’ attention to herself and her place within
the imperial oikos. With the use of the possessive pronoun, she asserted
this even more. Anna’s precise word choice in which she referred to the
67 Stanković, 2011b, p. 279-294; Stanković, 2011a, p. 63.

leading characters through her own family ties with them, calling Alexios
father, Irene mother, Isaac Komnenos, Michael and John Doukas ‘her uncles’,
engenders impression that we are dealing with Anna’s memoirs, or rather,
her own history, in which the main character is the author herself.
The use of the possessive pronoun ἐμός (mine, my) in connection with
the emperor Alexios, is repeated 92 times (!) in the Alexiad, which, due to
its frequency and abundance certainly deserves to be highlighted as an
important stylistic feature of Anna Komnene’s personal discourse. In some
parts of the text, in only one page, Anna entitled Alexios as ‘my father’ (ἐμὸς
πατὴρ), five times in a row. For example, in the VI chapter of the Book I,
Anna referred to Alexios through the following syntagma: 1) τῷ Κομνηνῷ
Ἀλεξίῳ καὶ ἐμῷ πατρὶ; 2) τῷ ἐμῷ πατρὶ; 3) τὸν ἐμὸν πατέρα; 4) τὸν ἐμὸν πατέρα
Ἀλέξιον; 5) ἐμὸς πατὴρ Ἀλέξιος.68
Alexios is usually referred to in a described manner, which should be
considered a most conspicuous both textual and structural authorial self-
reference. The fact that the first book of the Alexiad begins with the following
sentence – ‘The emperor Alexios and my father’ (Ὁ βασιλεὺς Ἀλέξιος καὶ ἐμὸς
πατὴρ)69 – immediately directs the audience towards a fact that the protago-
nist of Anna’s history is her father, although she had dwelt on that particular
issue already in the Prologue. This self-referential seasoning of narrative
stands in sharp contrast to the idea of Anna’s ‘unbiased storytelling’, the
one she constantly professed as a leading idea of her history. Her elaboration
of being a daughter of the protagonist can be perceived as bifocal – on the
one hand, as her wish to respond to the demands of ‘objective history’ and
thus immediately reveal her connection with the leading character. On the
other hand, as her wish to point out the fact that the emperor Alexios was
her father also. And why that? Because it was, what John did.
In the funeral verses for John II Komnenos, the emperor is connected
solely to his father – as ‘a lord John Komnenos from the lord Alexios’ (ἄνακτ’
ἀπ’ἄνακτος Ἀλεξίου Ἰωάννην),70 ‘John, the son of the emperor Alexios
Komnenos’(Ἀλεξίου παῖς Κομνηνοῦ βασιλέως),71 ‘born of Alexios’ (φύντος ἐξ
Ἀλεξίου)72, ‘Alexios’ pious John, the offshoot of the Komnenian root, delivered
in the triple blessed Porphyra’ (Ἀλεξιάδης εὐσεβὴς Ἰωάννης, Κομνηνικῆς
βλάστημα τῆς ῥιζουχίας καὶ πορφύρας μαίευμα τῆς τρισολβίας).73
68 Alexias, I 6,1-3, p. 24.

69 Alexias, I 1,1, p. 11.
70 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XXVIa, p. 340 (2).
71 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XXVIb, p. 340 (3).
72 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XXVIII, p. 344 (4).
73 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XXIX, p. 345 (3.5).
The same occurrence we have in the case of Eirene Doukaina, which is

referred to with the following syntagm – ‘empress Irene and my mother’,
‘Irene and my mother’, ‘my despoina and mother’ or just ‘mother’, altogether
25 times in the Alexiad, which completely corresponds with Irene’s presence
in the history. It is interesting that Anna also used Eirene, ‘her mother’, to
define her connection with the late emperor, Michael VII – ‘and let no one
reproach me for being sensitive in matters of my blood relations (τῶν καθ΄αἷμά
μοι προσηκόντων) since they were my relatives from the mother side’ (καὶ
γὰρ κἀμοὶ τὰ πρὸς μητρὸς ἐκεῖθεν καταρρεῖ).74 Anna used possessive pronouns
with a clear tendency to stress her closeness with the parents and her ‘double
imperial legitimacy’, by connecting herself with the leading figures of both
imperial oikoi: Komnenoi and Doukai. The connection with the illustrious
ancestors, and we will see in Anna’s case, connection with the members
of a particular kin group, that is, of her mother’s, was an ideological cliché
already present in the imperial endowments. One of the earliest and most
illustrious cases, and it concerns royal women, comes from the late antique
period, from the member of the Theodosian dynasty. It was Aelia Galla
Placidia, daughter of Theodosius I, and half-sister of the emperors Honorius
and Arcadius who decorated a church in Ravenna with mosaics depicting
her with her children, surrounded by the imperial couple Theodosius II
and Eudocia, and connected to the previous emperors to which they were
related through blood or marriage – Gratian, Valentinian II, Theodosius I,
Arcadius and Eudoxia. Through this visual statement, Dagron concludes,
Aelia Gala Placidia, had openly declared her imperial legitimacy in the
absence of dynastic structure in the succession policy in the I century.75
Anna Komnene did the very same thing through her emphasis put on the
connection with the most illustrious members of both imperial houses,
Komnenoi and Doukai. Some members of her family had followed the
same pattern introduced in the early church endowments, using visual
art to stress their dynastic legitimacy, whereas Anna sought other means
to achieve her goal, and typified her legitimacy not through pictures but
instead, through the written words.
74 Alexias, I 10,2 (23.24), p. 35.

75 Dagron, 2001, p. 39.
4 The Pain of Niobe and Cry of Electra
Since tragedy represents not only a complete action but also incidents that cause
fear and pity and this happens most of all when the incidents are unexpected
and yet one is a consequence of the other. For in that way the incidents will cause
more amazement than if they happened mechanically and accidentally, since
the most amazing accidental occurrences are those which seem to have been
providential, for instance when the statue of Mitys at Argos killed the man who
caused Mitys’s death by falling on him at a festival. Such events do not seem to
be mere accidents. So such plots as these must necessarily be the best.
− Aristotle, Poetics, 1452a
Anna’s sincere strive for writing a ‘truthful history’ was thoroughly insincere.
Sincerity was fluctuating on the top of the surface text of the Alexiad. Its
core was tentatively obscured by the rhetorical mastery of our authoress.
Not everyone was supposed to reach its esoteric agenda.
Among many stylistic features of Anna’s narrative, the one that provoked
great interest among scholars was the ‘gender otherness’ of Anna’s discourse.
The main element of the ‘gendered discourse’ which made it unique and
different from typical male literary expression is lament (θρήνος).
The impression, which remains after thorough reading of the Alexiad, is
that Anna’s cry is overwhelming modality of her self-referential utterances.
Very recently, Neville offered the explication of this kind of literary style.
She dealt with a topic of authorial modesty and the implied rhetoric of
humbleness, humility and restraint, concluding that ‘the tale of woe is
a strategy for talking about oneself while being less obnoxious to Greek
taste’.1 However, Aristotle’s views on tragedy in his Poetics, which ‘like a
single living organism it may produce its own peculiar form of pleasure’ and
conclusion that ‘today best tragedies are written about few families’ make a
strong case against the gendered background of Anna’s lament. According
to the explanations provided in Aristotle’s Poetics and Plutarch’s Moralia,
Anna’s laments over her own destiny and over deceased members of her
family, do not appear as a typical feminine expression. The narrative poetics
of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad suggest a completely different reading. Anna’s
gendered discourse was actually moved to other layers of her narrative, but
mainly to characterisation and place of the female characters in the Alexiad.
1 Neville, 2016, p. 39, cf. also Neville, 2013, p. 192-218; Neville, 2014, p. 270-273.
In a more practical way, the literary method Anna used was actually
Plutarch’s advice on the agreeable ways to deliver an inoffensive self-praise:
The unfortunate as well can boast and extol themselves with better grace
than the fortunate. For the fortunate are felt to lay hands on glory, as it
were, and take their pleasure of it in gratification of their pride, but the
others, far removed from ambition by their plight, are looked upon as
breasting ill-fortune, shoring-up their courage and eschewing all appeal
to pity and all whining and self-abasement in diversity.2
Anna’s lament was an unequivocally proficient rhetorical device, peculiar

for its ambiguity. It was used simultaneously to moderate the ostentatious
authorial presence, and to extol the greatness of the addressees of Anna’s
monodies. A second premise is a topic of our interest, since Anna’s cry should
be analysed as her means of bolstering her political ideas, and shrouding
them in the guise of ‘the mourning women of the Attic tragedy and the
Iliad.’3 Paradigms of lament could be found, as Menander Rhetor suggests,
in the cry of Andromache, Priam and Hecabe. 4 A Homeric tag of her lament
can be defined as her own ‘Patroclus excuse’, which was a ‘reference to slave
women who used Patroclus death as a pretext for bewailing their own fate’.5
Anna used this formula ‘Patroclus excuse’ in reference to deceptive actions
of some of her characters. Yet, I would personally tag her lament as another
more ‘Partoclus excuse’. We will see that people she mourned were carefully
accommodated to strengthen her argument.
Anna’s Iliad of woes
If Anna staged a tragedy with a resounding echo of her cry, we could ascribe
her the role of either Electra of Iphigenia. Both were daughters of the king
Agamemnon, with significantly divergent roles. Electra was famous for her
love for her father and ultimately, crime against her mother. Conversely,
Iphigenia was Agamemnon’s daughter that was sacrificed by the father.
A unifying discursive element between Electra and Iphigenia was their
beloved brother Orestes. The allusion on the Argives was made in Anna’s

3 Neville, 2013, p. 210.
4 Menander Rhetor, Monody, p. 200-206.
5 Dyck, 1986, p. 112.
The Pain of Niobe and Cry of Electra 145
comparison of Isaac and Alexios, two brothers, with two friends, Orestes
and Pylades. Anna, I strongly believe, was staging a tragedy. The story of
her life was, the Iliad of woes, just like Alexios, and she chose to shroud it
in the generic guise of tragedy.
At the very beginning of her history, Anna describes the insecurity of life
of the imperial child born in the Porphyra. Instead of honors and privileges,
Anna stresses further, her life was ‘covered with waves and filled with
turbulences’ (φεῦ τῶν κυμάτων, φεῦ τῶν ἐπαναστάσεων).
The plot of this tragedy is actually a tale of woes of the imperial family
(one immediately recalls Argives), or to be more precise – of Alexios’ and
Anna’s. Two leading protagonists of the tragedy embedded in the story
of Alexios’ deeds are father and his daughter. The tragedy concludes in a
way that our heroine bewails the loss of all her family members in Niobe’s
imagery that was, according to Tzetzes explanation, severely punished for
her boasting and arrogance.6 Therefore, Anna’s claims from the beginning
that there was nothing special in the Porphyra and that it only brought
upon her misfortunes, could have been interpreted as her unwillingness
to challenge Fortune for bragging loudly:7
To turn to myself – I have been conversant with dangers ever since my

birth ‘in the purple,’ so to say; and fortune has certainly not been kind
to me, unless you were to count it a smile of kind fortune to have given
me “emperors” as parents, and allowing me to be born “in the purple
room”, for all the rest of my life has been one long series of storms and
revolutions.8
It is, nevertheless, rather intriguing that Anna suited her lament through
allusion to Niobe, where she suggested indirectly that, after the death of
the three emperors, she was left completely alone in this world. However,
she did not cry because she was sad or ill willed, nor because her threnos
alluded to her failed ambition. That is a too literal reading of the Alexiad.
The story about her lament and the tragedy she was orchestrating in the
Alexiad had another reason. Regarding this particular textual modality,
Anna was again leaning heavily upon Psellos, who considered tragedy a
best genre for representing characters.9
6 Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 509.

7 cf. Neville, 2016, p. 64-65, 127.
8 Alexiad, p. 20; Alexias, Prol. 4,1 (10.16), p. 18.
9 cf. analysis of the tragedy in Psellos’ Chronographia – Repajić, 2016, p. 53-54.
So who were the characters of the tragedy Anna staged? The starring
role in this play Anna arrogated to herself:
From my very cradle – I swear it by God and His Mother – troubles,

afflictions, continual misfortunes were my lot, some from without, some
from within. […] If I write of the evils that befell me from without, the
troubles I encountered even before I had completed my eighth year and
the enemies raised up against me by the wickedness of men, I would need
the Siren of Isocrates, the grandiloqence of Pindar, Polemos’ vivacity the
Calliope of Homer, Sappho’s lyre or some other power greater still. For
no danger, great or small, from near or far away, failed to attack us at
once. I was truly overwhelmed by the flood and ever since, right up to
the present time, even to this moment when I write these words, the sea
of misfortunes advances upon me, wave after wave.10
Neville suggests that Anna’s lament should not be given a political reading 11
However, I am sceptical toward interpretation of Anna’s specific reference
that her misfortunes started since her eighth year, or even before that, are
part of her ‘outburst of lamentation’ as a sort of authorial self-abasement.12
If one needs to find a connection between this particular moment in Anna’s
life – that according to Neville was just a chronological marker for entering
pre-adolescent period – one does not have to look into Zonaras’ history.
Although there we find a notion that Constantine Doukas was deprived
of his imperial prerogatives, when John was crowned, Anna herself makes
another mention of the change in her life circumstances when she was
eight years old:
As a matter of fact, I have other reasons to believe I know the truth in this
affair: from my early girlhood, before I was eight years old, I was brought
up by the empress [Maria of Alania].13
10 Alexiad, p. 459-460; Alexias, XIV 7,4 (26.36), p. 451: ‘ἀλλ’ἐμὲ γὰρ ἐξ αὐτῶν σπαργάνων, ὄμνυμι
τὸν ἐμαυτῆς Θεὸν καὶ τὴν ἐκείνου μητέρα, πόνοι καὶ θλίψεις παρέλαβον καὶ συμφοραὶ συνεχεῖς, αἱ μὲν
ἔξωθεν, αἱ δὲ οἴκοθεν. τὰ μέν γὰρ τοῦ σώματος ὁποδαπῶς εἶχον, οὐκ ἂν εἴποιμι, λεγέτωσαν δὲ ταῦτα οἱ
περὶ τὴν γυναικωνίτιν καὶ καταλεγέτωσαν. τὰ δ’ἔξωθεν καὶ ὅσα μοι συνεπεπτώκει οὔπω τὸν ὄγδοον
ὑπερελασάσῃ χρόνον, καὶ ὅσους ἐχθροὺς ἡ τῶν ἀνθρώπων μοι κακία παρεβλάστησε, τῆς Ἰσοκράτους
Σειρῆνος δεῖται, τῆς πινδαρικῆς μεγαλοφωνωίας, τοῦ Πολέμωνος ῥοίζου, τῆς ὁμηρικῆς Καλλιόπης, τῆς
σαπφικῆς λύρας ἢ τινὸς ἄλλης παρὰ ταύτας δυνάμεως∙ οὐδὲν γάρ ἐστι τῶν δεινῶν οὐ μικρόν, οὐ μεῖζον,
οὐκ ἐγγύθεν, οὐ πορρωτέρω, ὃ μὴ εὐθὺς ἐπέβρισε καθ’ἡμῶν’.
11 Neville, 2016, p. 61-69.
12 Neville, 2016, p. 83.
13 Alexiad, p. 104-105.
Eighth year could be considered a discursive marker for specific stage in

one’s childhood, since we encounter the same chronological reference in
Psellos’ Encomium for his Mother, as the turning point in his life, when he
started his education that destined his whole life.14 To this could be added
other, more literary reading, taken from the Odyssey, that the eighth year
of Aegisthus’ reign was fatal for him. Orestes came back from Athens and
‘slew his father’s murderer’.15 So the eighth year might have been considered
a discursive marker for someone’s change of fortune, or change of fate,
which is again, employed by Anna Komnene as a chronological marker for
a change that happened in her life. She might had been raised by Maria of
Alania until she reached the age of eight, a time for her education to start.
However, I still do not see any other reason for her being transferred from
the palace where she dwelt with Maria of Alania to another palace, except
that a political rearrangement of succession matters reflected on Anna’s
change of fortune also.
The only historical moment to which Anna’s reference can be linked
is the occasion of John’s coronation. That ceremony took place between
1 September and 15 November 1092, which corresponds with Anna’s ‘eighth
year of life’. The New Year started on the 1st September, and she was still eight
then. Her ninth birthday was celebrated on 2 December 1092. One should of
course take into consideration that the coronation did not happen suddenly
and that preparations for it might have taken some while. In the speech of
Theophylaktos of Ochrid for Alexios I Komnenos there is a sort of inquiry
why John is not still crowned.16 John was not, after all, crowned immediately
upon his birth, nor was Constantine Doukas immediately deprived of his
imperial right. The impression that we grasp from the passage on John’s birth
is that he was immediately designated as an imperial successor. However,
Anna knew the outcome, and she merged the five years of John’s life in one
causal paragraph. Nevertheless, this narrative unit was also seasoned with
her rhetoric of lament. The situation was complex and Alexios needed time
to outmanoeuvre his political opponents and to transfer the imperial legacy
to his male successor. It was just a confluence of unfortunate circumstances
for Anna that made of her a scapegoat in these clashes between the two
imperial houses. One cannot deny that John’s coronation did make a serious
change in Anna’s life – she was pushed back from the imperial pedestal
in favour of her younger brother John. The change that happened is out of

15 Homer, Odyssey, 3.305-310.
16 For the analysis see Stanković, 2006, p. 230-232, esp. p. 231; Stanković, 2016, p. 16.
question. The issue that can be discussed is the impact of that change on
Anna Komnene. Therefore, character of Constantine Doukas in the Alexiad
will be shown due respect and subjected to thorough analysis.
When it comes to other characters of her tragedy, Anna says following:
As for myself, apart from grief caused by my own misfortunes, I mourn

now three rulers (emperors) – my father; my mistress and mother the
empress; and (to my sorrow) the Caesar, my husband.17
Anna never spoke openly about her own misfortunes. Neville suggested that
the death of her three children might have been a motive of these sorrowful
recollections, but, on the other hand she never mentioned her children,
which was an occurrence noticed by modern historians.18 Among many
general possibilities that might come across as solutions in our pursuit of
one’s life misfortunes I guess we should turn to Anna’s story and follow those
characters she bewailed in her story. Regarding this, Anna’s cry over her
deceased parents and husband fits just right in the discourse of expected
woman behaviour, of a loving daughter and caring wife. However, consider-
ing previous analysis on the peculiarities of Komnenian philia and the
political subtleties of familial love, one should be careful when taking into
account Anna’s intentional picture of a ‘humble wife and a loving daughter’.
If she really wanted to invigorate herself as the embodiment of the female
virtue, she should have mentioned her commendable motherhood. The fact
that she stressed Alexios as her father 92 times in the Alexiad makes her a
‘daddy’s girl’ and closest to the issue of ‘Electra’s complex’. Of course, that
would be acceptable if the Alexiad was intimate confession of a random
individual, and interpreted solely through emotional appeal. But it was
not. Alexiad was a political pamphlet in which every word was weighed
carefully, where nothing is written down without consideration, ‘even the
trifles’. Therefore, I do not think that the eighth year of Anna’s life should be
discarded as coincidentally mentioned twice in her text, nor I think that we
should neglect the importance of carefully chosen cast for Anna’s tragedy.
Apart from Bryennios and herself, the earliest introduction of the other
tragic hero occurs in the Book I, with reference to Constantine Doukas,
and, of course, Anna’s connection to him:
17 Alexiad, p. 460.
18 Gouma-Peterson, 2000, p. 114.
As for me, when I remember this young man after so many years, I am
overcome by tears. Yet I hold back my sorrow; it shall be reserved for the
‘places of honour’, lest by mingling my own lamentation with the historical
narrative I confuse the history. This youth, mentioned by me here and
elsewhere, was born before I saw the light of day and had become a suitor
of Helen. He was a chaste and undefiled boy.19
The political agenda of Anna’s self-bewailing, and lament for the dead
members of her family is clear in the monody dedicated to ‘the dearest of
my brothers’, Andronikos:
He had just reached his young manhood, the most charming time of
life, a daring soldier in war, but prudent too, with a quick hand and fine
intellect. Here he met his end prematurely. In a way that none expected he
left us and disappeared. His youthfulness, his physical perfection, those
light vaults into the saddle – what do they mean now? My grief for him
drives me to tears – but the law of history once more calls me back. It is
extraordinary that nobody nowadays under the stress of great troubles is
turned into stone or a bird or a tree or some inanimate object; they used
to undergo such metamorphoses in ancient times (or so they say), though
whether that is myth or a truth story I know not. Maybe it would be better
to change one’s nature into something that lacks all feeling rather than
be so sensitive to evil. Had that been possible, these calamities would in
all probability have turned me to stone.20
Andronikos, ‘the most beloved of her brothers’ and the only one mentioned
in a praiseworthy manner, however, did not die in the battle, which Anna
describes. Andronikos followed his brother John II Komnenos on his cam-
paigns and died in 1130.21 This suggests Anna’s selectivity with reference
to the personages that will be part of her tragedy. Zonaras gives us clue
why would Anna prefer Andronikos more than the rest of her siblings. He
supported his mother in family strife, while Isaac was on the side of John.
Thus, the lament of Anna Komnene becomes perfectly intelligible to all
its readers.
19 Alexiad, p. 58; Alexias, Ι 12,3 (83.87): ‘ἐγὼ δὲ μετὰ τοσούτος ένιαυτοὺς μεμνημένη τοῦ νεανίου
τούτου δακρύων έμπίπλαμαι, ἐπέχω δὲ ὅμως τὸ δάκρυον καὶ ταμιεύω πρὸς τοὺς ἐπικαίρους τῶν τόπων,
ἵνα μὴ τὰς μονῳδίας τῶν έμῶν άναμιγνῦσα ταῖς ἰστορικαῖς διηγήσεσι τὴν ἱστορίαν συγχέοιμι’.
20 Alexiad, p. 485.
21 Varzos, 1984, p. 231, esp. no.13.
Beloved husband
First character that we encounter shrouded in rhetoric of monody is Anna’s

late husband Nikephoros Bryennios:
At this point my mind is distrait; floods of tears fill my eyes when I think
of Rome’s great loss. His wisdom, his vast practical experience, gained over
so wide a field, his knowledge of literature, the divine learning acquired
abroad and at our own Court – these were grievous losses. Charm suffused
all his body and a majesty befitting not, as some say, a human throne,
but something higher and more divine.22
Another impressive lament about Bryennios, the greatest Caesar (τὸν

μέγιστον καίσαρα) we encounter at the beginning of the Book VII, where
Anna also explains Bryennios’ kinship with Alexios’. She stated that he
had become emperor’s son-in-law, when he was already holding the scepter,
and that he was a descendant of ‘that Bryennios’ (τοῦ δὲ Βρυεννίου ἐκείνου
ἀπογονος). Again, the resonance of these passages is doleful:
But these memories upset me; my heart is filled with sorrow, for the Caesar
was a man of learning and in his writings gave excellent proof of it. Every
thing – strength, agility, physical charm, in fact all the good qualities of
mind and body – combined to glorify that man. In him Nature brought to
birth and God created a unique personality, outstanding among his fellows;
just as Homer sang the praises of Achilles among the Achaeans, so might
one say that my Caesar excelled among all men who live beneath the sun.
He was magnificent soldier, but by no means unmindful of literature; he
read all books and by closely studying every science derived much wisdom
from them, both ancient and modern.23
ἀλλ’ ἐνταυθοῖ γενομένη συγχέομαι τὴν ψυχὴν καὶ πάθους ἐμπίπλαμαι. σοφὸς
μὲν γὰρ τὴν γνώμην ἦν οὗτος ὁ ἀνὴρ καὶ τὸν λόγον σοφώτατος· πάντα γὰρ
καὶ ῥώμη καὶ τάχος καὶ κάλλος σώματος καὶ ἁπλῶς ἐς ταὐτὸ συνελθόντα ὅσα
ψυχῆς καὶ σώματος ἀγαθά, τὸν ἄνδρα ἐκεῖνον ἐκόσμησεν· ἕνα γὰρ αὐτὸν ἐν
τοῖς ἅπασιν ἐξοχώτατον καὶ ἡ φύσις ἀνεβλάστησε καὶ ὁ Θεὸς ἐδημιούργησε.
καὶ οἷον τὸν Ἀχιλλέα ὕμνησεν Ὅμηρος ἐν τοῖς Ἀχαιοῖς, τοιοῦτον ἄν τις εἶπε τὸν
ἐμὸν καίσαρα ἐν τοῖς ὑπὸ τὸν ἥλιον ἅπασιν ἀναπεφηνότα. οὗτος τοίνυν ὁ καίσαρ
22 Alexiad, p. 20; Alexias, Prol. 4,1 (94.5).

23 Alexiad, p. 220.
καὶ τὰ στρατιωτικὰ γεγονὼς ἄριστος οὐκ ἀμελετήτως ἔσχε πρὸς λόγους, ἀλλὰ
πᾶσαν βίβλον ἀναπτυξάμενος καὶ εἰς πᾶσαν ἐπιστήμην ἐγκεκυφὼς πολλὴν
σοφίαν ἐκεῖθεν ἠρύσατο, ὅση τὲ ἡμετέρα καὶ ὅση ποτὲ ἡμετέρα.24
De mortuis nihil nisi bonum. Monody was the most felicitous form to let
loose excessive praise and avoid being scorned for it. Anna is quite aware
of the biased nature of monody, and confronts it with the nature of history
when referring to her brother Andronikos. Yet, in the passages dedicated to
Bryennios, she did not make a commentary of her inappropriate literary style.
She embedded laudation of her husband into the ‘truthful history’, presenting
him as supreme both in war and learning. Her extensive elaboration on the
virtues of a deceased was a fanciful way to say that her husband was the
embodiment of the imperial virtue. Of course, no one would deny Bryennios’
exquisite learning, since many of his contemporaries attested that fact.
However, Anna, as a historian, was supposed to be more restrained in her
excessive praise of a husband. Nevertheless, she was a skilful rhetorician,
and she outwitted the ‘nature of history’ by embedding in it a monody, where
she could play her role of a bereaved wife, and simultaneously, convey her
political agenda.
As I have already stressed, Menander’s scheme for praising the emperor
presupposed the laudation of his learning (τὴν φιλομάθειαν, τὴν ὀξύτητα,
τὴν περὶ τὰ μαθὴματα σπούδην).25 He advised that the art of speech and
philosophical knowledge should be stressed in particular (κἂν μὲν ἐν λόγοις
ᾖ καὶ φιλοσοφία καὶ λόγων γνώσει, τοῦτο ἐπαινέσεις).26
Another member of the imperial family, highly praised for his learning
was Isaac Komnenos, younger brother and a dangerous rival of emperor
John II Komnenos, who was complimented for his competence in war and in
letters, as a philosopher, rhetorician, theologian.27 Magdalino’s observation
that this motive gives ‘an idea why Isaac was a source for trouble to his
purely military brother John’28 can be applied to understanding of the
same qualities that were bestowed upon Bryennios. These virtues signified
that those who possessed them were, among all other, able to exert justice
which was a cardinal requirement for a good ruler.29 Zonaras description
24 Alexias, VII 2,6 (97.8).

25 Menander Rhetor, Basilikos logos, p. 82.
26 Idem.
27 Theodore Prodromos, Unedierte Texte, p. 117.
28 Magdalino, 2000, p. 20
29 Theodore Prodromos, Unedierte Texte, p.114.
of Bryennios who managed the internal affairs of the empire with Eirene
Doukaina fits in the image of the sofos caesar.
In the history of Niketas Choniates, erudition was stressed as one of the
main prerequisites for the imperial throne. His elaboration of this topic was
conducted precisely on the example of Nikephoros Bryennios:
Whenever the occasion allowed, she [Eirene Doukaina] would heap

extravagant praise on Bryennios, lauding him profusely as the most
eloquent and no less capable of getting things done, as learned in the
liberal arts which develop moral character and greatly assist those who
are about to assume the reins of government in preserving the empire
intact.30
‘ἐνιαχοῦ δὲ καὶ λόγου πρόφασιν τὸν Βρυέννιον παρεισφέρουσα παντοίοις αὐτὸν

ἐπαίνοις κατέστεφεν ἅτε εἰπεῖν ἱκανώτατον καὶ οὐκ ἐλάττονα διαπράξασθαι
καὶ μαθημάτων ἐλευθερίων μεταλαχόντα ῥυθμίζειν τὸ ἦθος εἰδότων καὶ πρὸς
βασιλείαν ἀδιαλώβητον οὐ βραχέα συναιρομένων τοῖς ἄρχειν μέλλουσιν.31
Furthermore, all supported Bryennios and were willing to accept his rule
because of ‘his learning’ (being instructed in dialectic) – ὠς λογικῶν ἐν μεθέξει
ὄντι παιδεύσεων – because he had a royal appearance – εἶδος τυραννικὸν
προφαίνοντι – and because he was connected to the imperial family through
marriage – κατὰ κῆδος προφερεστέρω βασιλικόν.32
The conclusion of Anna’s tragedy at the very end of the Book XV repeats
and reinforces the idea from the passage given in the Book XIV that she was
deprived of the three emperors (τρεῖς βασιλεῖς θρηνοῦσα):
I lost the shining light of the world, the great Alexios […] And then there
was extinguished another glorious light (or shall I call her the moon that
brings light to all?) the pride, in name and deed, of East and West, the
Empress Eirene. And yet we live on, we still breathe the air of life. After
that evils multiplied and we were assailed by mighty storms. Finally,
the climax of all our woes, we have been forced to witness the death of
the Caesar. (So tragic were the events for which we were preserved).33
30 Choniates, O City of Byzantium, p. 5.

31 Choniates, History, p. 5 (1.5).
32 Choniates, History, p. 10 (41.43).
33 Alexiad, p. 514.
After comparing her grief with that of Niobe’s she stressed once more: ‘After
the death of both rulers, the loss of the Caesar and the grief caused by these
events would have sufficed to wear me out, body and soul’.34
It seems that, after all, Anna delivered an answer about her tale of woes.
Being more ‘grief-stricken than Niobe’ and suffering the ‘more wretched
troubles’ than those of Niobe, she mourned the loss of her husband and
parents, but not the loss of her children. That particular topic – Anna’s
motherhood – was already cultivated among rhetors. Another theme was
developed in the Alexiad. It had a lot to do with motherhood, but not with
Anna’s.
Setting of the Sun
The story that was developed from the 11th chapter of the Book XV was
allegorically announced as Alexios’ descent into the underworld. It is the
most vivid presentation of the family drama that is unfolding before reader’s
eyes, and it is delivered in a discursive frame of a tragedy. This is the moment
in the narrative when the account of a historian stops. The 10th chapter was
concluded in a summary of Alexios’ reign and deeds, allegorised through
Heraklean image of his ultimate successful labour. From that point in the
narrative, we read an emotionally imbued memory of the authoress about the
final days of her father. But to be clear, the tragedy that was staged here was
also intentionally used as a generic frame for concluding Anna Komnene’s
‘Iliad of woes’. Alexios’ tale of woes was finished in the 10th chapter. The
characters on whose agency the plot focuses from the 11th chapter are Eirene
Doukaina and her daughters, but everything is recounted through the eye
of Anna Komnene.
Two stories are concluded in this part – the story of Alexios’ illness that
actually started in book XII with Eirene Doukaina’s entrance on the stage,
which is an allegory for the family conflict from the last years of Alexios’
life, and a story of Anna’s own ‘Iliad of woes’.
Chapter 11 starts with the following observation:
But why am I writing of these things? I perceive that I am digressing from

the main theme, because the subject of history imposes on me a two-fold
duty: to relate the facts of the emperor’s life and also to expose their tragic
nature. In other words, I have to give an account of his struggles and
34 Alexiad, p. 514-515.
at the same time do justice to all that has caused me heart-felt sorrow.
Among the latter I would count his death and the destruction of all that
I found worthwhile on earth.35
‘ἱνατί δὲ περὶ τούτων; αἰσθάνομαι γὰρ ἐμαυτῆς οἷον τῆς λεωφόρου ἐκτρεπομένης,
διττόν μοι τὸν ἀγῶνα τοῦ λόγου τῆς προκειμένης ὑπαγορευούσης ὑποθέσεως,
ἱστορεῖν ἅμα καὶ τραγῳδεῖν τὰ ξυμπεσόντατῷ αὐτοκράτορι, ἱστορεῖν μὲν τοὺς
ἀγῶνας, εἰς μονῳδίαν δὲ ἄγειν ὁπόσα τὴν καρδίαν διεμασσήσατο. μεθ’ ὧν
τάττοιμι ἂν καὶ τὸν ἐκείνου θάνατον καὶ πάσης τῆς ἐπιγείου λήξεως ὄλεθρον.’36
Allegories of the emperor’s illness
The story of Alexios’ illness starts in Book XII where Anna explained the
reasons of Eirene’s presence in Alexios’ campaign, saying that ‘disease
which attacked his feet necessitated most careful attention – he suffered
an excruciating pain from his gout – and my mother’s touch was what he
appreciated most’.37
My main issues with the whole story of Alexios’ illness are the following:
– exhibition and elaboration of its details;
– the causes of illness;
– crafting of Eirene’s character as Alexios’ ‘physician’.
Firstly, I was confused to see such a painful display of the emperor’s illness
that, albeit conforming to the image of Alexios’ woes, the authoress should
had either omitted or at least mitigated in a laudatory narrative about Alexios
I Komnenos. Especially when it comes to the gout, one should have been
careful when connecting it with the praised hero, since gout was renowned
as a sickness of pleasure-loving people, which is another euphemism for a
lecherous kind of life. Psellos discusses emperor Constantine VIII’s illness in
the following manner: ‘Being dominated by his gluttony and sexual passions,
he became afflicted with arthritis, and worse still, his feet gave him such
trouble, that he was unable to walk.’38 Especially elaborate presentation of
the illness with reference to emperor’s incapacity to rule properly is given
by Psellos in the chapter on Constantine IX Monomachos:
35 Alexiad, p. 505.
36 Alexias, XV 11,1 (18.22), p. 493-494.
37 Alexiad, p. 375.
38 Psellos, Chronographia, (S), p. 57.
A healthy animal, with a thoroughly strong constitution, is not altered

in a moment at the first symptoms of illness. So with the Empire in the
reign of Constantine: it was by no means moribund and its breathing
was still energetic; the neglect from which it was suffering seemed an
insignificant item, until, by slow degrees, the malady grew, and reaching
a crisis threw the patient into utter confusion, complete disorder. This
later stage, however, had not yet been approached, and the emperor,
taking little share in the anxieties of power, but seeking recreation in a
multitude of pleasures, was preparing the then healthy body of his empire
for a thousand maladies destined to attack it in the years to come.39
Psellos brought ethos – character of the ruler40 – in tight connection with the
nature of the illness, which was especially stressed in the case of Romanos
III Argiros. 41
Allegorical interpretation of the emperor’s illnesses has been offered
recently on the account of Psellos’ portrayal of his emperors. 42 The illness
was actually Psellos’ discursive marker for showing the unsuitable and
unfitting emperor. Also, it was used to show how the empire was progres-
sively ill and in the need to find a healer. The allegory of illness, as it has
been observed, is finally resolved in the Book VII, in the story of Psellos’
favourite, emperor Isaac Komnenos who was first welcomed as a ‘healer’ of
the empire, but was, unfortunately, stricken by the illness so the ‘healing’ of
the Empire was prevented again. 43 Repajić gave a fitting explanation of this
literary conundrum in her observation on the ‘narrative role of the illnesses’
in Psellos’ Chronographia. 44 By the same analogy, I will also inspect the
‘narrative role’ of Alexios’ illness in a search for the subtext.
Allegorical use of the illness was nothing strange to Anna Komnene.
The sad state of imperial affairs was described through allegory of the
‘sick empire’:
39 Psellos, Chronographia, (S), p. 179-180.

40 In his Argument of Psellos Chronographia, Kaldellis has analysed especially the use of the
word ethos by Psellos in his characterisation of the emperors, concluding that it primarily stood
for ‘relatively fixed properties of the individual charcter that can be, however ‘changed’ due to
‘extraordinary individuals or extraordinary circumstances.’ – Kaldellis, 1999, p. 23-28.
41 For the ‘change of Romanos’ ethos’ see Kaldellis, 1999a, p. 28-30; analysis of Romanos III
Argiros death see Repajić, 2012, 341-342.
42 Repajić, 2012, passim; Repajić, 2016, p.162-165; 283-287.
43 Isaac was described as the helmsman of the Empire and one of the ‘Asklepiadous’. For the
analysis of Isaac’s illness see Repajić, p. 345-346.
44 Repajić, 2016, p. 283.
The inf irmities of the body, seems to me, are sometimes aggravated
by external causes, but there are also occasions when the reasons for
sickness emanate from the organs themselves; often we blame the vaga
ries of climate and certain qualities of food for the onset of fevers, even
sometimes purid humours. In the same way bad condition of the Roman
state at that time produces mortal plagues – the aforementioned men,
I mean, like of Roussel and Basilakios and all who filled the ranks of
pretenders. Sometimes, though, it was Fate which introduced into it from
outside certain foreign pretenders – an evil hard to combat, an incurable
disease. One such was braggart Robert, notorious for his power lust. 45
Rober Guiscard was the Empire’s ‘incurable disease’ and the metaphor for
the concomitant danger was given through imagery of a gangrene in the
Book IV: ‘Once a man has seized power, his love of money displays exactly
the same characteristics as gangrene, for gangrene, once established in a
body, never rests until it had invaded and corrupted the whole of it.’46
Anna gave an extensive explanation of the emperor’s illness in the Book
XIV, which is a continuation of the narrative that starts with Eirene Doukaina
taking the stage in the Book XII and leads to its resolution in the Book XV:
Not even the gout [excessive pain, L. V.] in his legs deterred him from
this campaign. This malady had afflicted none of his ancestors, so that
it was certainly not an inherited disease; nor was it due to indulgence
in luxury (gout usually attacks libertines and lovers of pleasure). In his
case the trouble originated in an accident. 47
Two references are important – the malady was not innate. It was acquired,
just as gout is. Therefore, some external reasons needed to be given as an
explanation. However, Anna was decisive that it did not originate from any
kind of lecherous life. She set on a way to deliver an exhaustive explanation of
the true reasons. Here we have a break in the narrative where the true cause
of the illness had been switched to another cause that is actually an allegory.
First cause was affliction he suffered during his polo match – γυμναζόμενος
συσφαιρίζοντα.48 Psellos gave a highly negative tone to the imperial plays in his
characterisation of the emperor Constantine VIII – for him ‘a matter of real
45 Alexiad, p. 52-53.
46 Alexiad, p. 136-137.
47 Alexiad, p. 449.
48 Alexias, XIV 4, 2 (65.66), p. 439.
concern’ were a ‘theatre and horse-raising’ and not the affairs of the State which
he neglected. Was this an indicator of Alexios neglect of the affairs of the State?
Second reason for Alexios’ illness was streams of Crusaders that came
into the City. He obviously could not cope with this problem in a ‘healthy’
way: ‘It was then that the emperor was plunged into a vast ocean of worries.
He had long been aware of their dream of Empire’.49 His disease progressed:
‘From this time to the end of his life the rheumatism came on at regular
intervals and caused him dreadful pain.’50 And a metaphor of illness as a
divine retribution for emperor’s sins is given immediately after: ‘I deserve to
suffer. This happens to me justly because of the multitude of my sins.’51 Anna
aimed at stopping here, but she, nevertheless, continued with an obscure
reference: ‘Maybe there was someone who contributed to this malady of
his and increased the sufferings he bore.’52
I am quite convinced that the third reason for Alexios illness and its
‘greatest symptom’ that was constantly present around emperor and never
left him, should be interpreted as allegory of John II Komnenos.53 In that
sense, the story of emperor’s illness should be interpreted as a story of a
family conflict of which Zonaras informs us and Niketas Choniates adapts
and further elaborates.
Another problematic point of the whole narrative about the illness is its
vividness. It was shaped pretty much like Psellos’ elaboration of the illness
that struck Constantine IX Monomachos:
There is one thing that I forgot to mention before, namely, the state of his
bodily health at the beginning of his reign, the quality of that manliness
and vigorous strength which later suffered such complete degeneration,
and the manner in which, so far from preserving the freshness of his
youth unspoiled to the end, he exhibited to all beholder his natural glory
dimmed, like a sun obscured by the clouds.54
The whole chapter on the illness of Constantine IX was used as a paradigm

for Anna’s elaboration of the same topic. Strongly intertwined with the
49 Alexiad, p. 449.
50 Alexiad, p. 451.
51 Alexiad, p. 451.
52 Alexiad, p. 452.
53 Magdalino stresses ‘but there may be a much less flattering reference to John in the unnamed
person she accuses of aggravating Alexios’ inflamed leg and hastening his demise.’ – Magdalino,
2000, p.21.
54 Psellos, Chronographia, (S) p. 220.
illness was the story about plots and Psellos’ grudge against the emperor who
‘neglected to take precautions for his own safety.’55 Psellos reproached the
emperor for not taking a safeguard that would protect him. That safeguard
was, of course, Psellos himself. In Alexios’ case, however, the emperor took
his ‘watchful’ safeguard Eirene Doukaina. Her role was to take good care
of him and to disperse the wrongdoers. However, the most persistent one
was constantly present, and Eirene could do nothing about it.
Parallels between Constantine IX Monomachos and Alexios have already
been spotted.56 Alexios was crafted according to two crucial Psellos’ ruling
paradigms – Constantine IX Monomachos and his opposite, Isaac Komnenos.
In this sense, it is important to stress the difference and contrast between
these two imperial figures in Chronographia, since Constantine IX was not
Psellos’ ‘favourite’.57 He was everything except that. Crucial tenets of Psellos’
invective against Constantine IX were turned toward his lack of egregorsis,
and a lecherous kind of life. Buckley is, however, right in her conclusion that
‘Komnene acknowledges her dept to Psellos and differentiates her story from
his’. Constantine IX banished his ‘greatest’ guardian and advisor, because
of which – Psellos alludes – he finished in such a way. Anna stresses that
Eirene Doukaina was Alexios’ guardian, but still, the story does not have a
happy ending at all. An imagery that was deployed from the discourse on
Constantine IX Monomachos sought to point out Anna’s criticism, and to
stress that her father, after all had his ‘Monomachos-like’ side of personality.
The conclusion of Buckley might serve our cause: ‘Psellos is always undecided
as to whether Constantine IX Monomachos is a saintly fool or just a lucky
one but leaves the final judgment to its readers’.58
It is true that Anna did not talk about conflict with her brother. A skilful
writer such as Anna would never deliver such a story blatantly. However,
she had helped us in directing our gaze toward this issue so that we could
allegorise it. She presented Robert Guiscard as the empire’s gangrene. She
had offered us two syllogisms, and the third one was left to be inferred.
Neville confronts the ‘highly tendentious’ interpretation of Alexios’ third
symptom as John Komnenos, and points out that Anna ‘does not return to
this topic in any recognisable way’.59 However, Anna does return to that
topic in last chapters of the Alexiad, where the main topic is illness again.
55 Psellos, Chronographia, (S), p. 224.

56 Linner, 1983, passim.
57 I am quite sceptical toward assumption that Constantine IX was ‘Psellos’ favourite’ – Buckley,
2014, p. 177
58 Buckley, 2014, p. 177.
59 Neville, 2016, p. 144.
Once more, like in the introductory part of this topic, we see Eirene
Doukaina in the main role, as the caregiver. Of course, there are some
slight alterations, in a sense that new characters come to the stage – two
more daughters, ‘beloved sister Maria’ (φιλτάτη τῶν ἀδελφῶν) and Eudokia.
Therefore, the only members of Anna’s family that participate in her grief are
her mother and two sisters. This scene, how it was set in the Alexiad is ‘highly
tendentious’. It was the authoress’ tendency to stage a play of the grievous
Electra with her peculiar relationship with her father. The story of Zonaras
is strikingly confirmed in Anna’s scene which is filled with intense emotions
and permeated with the idea of the final and ultimate end of everything. In
addition to this, a blurry reference about John Komnenos, who had left for
the Great Palace is also highly tendentious. It breaks the unity of the plot,
moves the focus from Alexios deathbed to some other happenings in the city:
We moved him to another part of the five-storeyed building, so that he

might breathe fresher air […] The emperor’s heir had already gone away to
the house set apart for him, when he realised the emperor’s… he hastened
his departure and went off quickly to the Great Palace. The city was at
the time… in a state of confusion, but there was no absolute chaos.60
Alexios’ last counsel to his women was following:
Instead of surrendering yourself to the flood of woe that has come upon
you, why not consider your own position and the dangers that now
threaten you? Such were his words, but they only reopened her wound.
As for myself, I did all I could; to my friends still living and to men who
in the future will read this history I swear by God who knows all things
that I was no better than a mad woman, wholly wrapped in my sorrow.61
The tight connection of mother and the daughter has been wrapped in an
interesting reference: ‘She [Eirene Doukaina] suspended judgment and
kept looking at me, waiting for me to play the part of oracle (she had been
wont to do that in other crises). I was expected to make some Phoebus-like
prediction.’62
What were these other crises? And why did Eirene rely so much on Anna’s
judgment? Many references in these passages are obscure and hard to
60 Alexiad, p. 512.
61 Alexiad, p. 511; Alexias, XV 11,15 (25.29).
62 Alexiad, p. 512.
grasp. The complexity of this confusing narrative might have been due to
author’s tendency to rewrite and reshape the events on Alexios’ deathbed, but
nevertheless, simultaneously tended to give hints about the true background
of the final events.
The moment of Eirene’s change of attire is symbol of the political change
that happened upon Alexios’ death: ‘She threw away the purple-dyed shoe
she was wearing and asked for ordinary black sandals. But when she wanted
to exchange her purple dress for a black one, no garment of that kind could
readily be found.’63 This implies that for Eirene the vestment of the ordinary
citizen was not prepared. Eirene’s loss of the status of augousta was not an
easy matter, these lines reveal.
Eirene failed in healing Alexios’ from his illness. The third cause and its
symptom overpowered her healing abilities. The extensive elaboration of
the advancement of disease should be understood as the allegorisation of
John’s strengthening of his position. All its gruesome and unflattering side
effects were revealed by Anna Komnene, and the reason why disfigurement
of Alexios’ body due to the illness was not mitigated by Anna’s rhetorical
mastery was solely because it served as her enthymeme. After all, there was
nothing flattering in Alexios’ final days and Anna was not hesitant to reveal
that, but of course, some of the ticklish parts she moved to the subtext.
The tragedy which Anna directed was poetically equivalent to Aristotle’s
definition:
The successful plot must then have a single and not, as some say, a double
issue, and the change must be not to good fortune from bad but, on the
contrary, from good to bad fortune, and it must not be due to villainy but
to some great flaw in such a man as we have described, or of one who is
better rather than worse.64
The plot was obviously the fate of the Empire upon Alexios’ death. Alexios’
‘great flaw’ could be explained through the following interpretation of
Aristotle’s line:
Whether Aristotle regards the “flaw” as intellectual or moral has been

hotly discussed. It may cover both senses. The hero must not deserve his
misfortune, but he must cause it by making a fatal mistake, an error of
judgment, which may well involve some imperfection of character but not
63 Alexiad, p. 513.
such as to make us regard him as “morally responsible” for the disasters

although they are nevertheless the consequences of the flaw in him, and
his wrong decision at a crisis is the inevitable outcome of his character.65
Alexios ‘fatal mistake, an error of judgement’ was his choice of his successor
to the throne. In the tense moments of his last hours, there appears quite
suddenly on the scene his diadochos, disrespecting the women’s lament and
grief. As I have already noted, the whole story is told from the perspective
of our heroine who laments not only the death of the Emperor, which was
triggered by the third and the “worst symptom”, but the death of the three
emperors, her father, mother and husband, and, finally, of the whole Empire.
Anna’s ‘Iliad of woes’ ends with the setting of the sun, her sun, emperor
Alexios – καὶ ὁ ἑμὸς ἥλιος ἔδυ.66 This imagery recalls lines from Sophocles
Electra that will be a fitting concluding remark:
But I, as I joylessly witness it, cry out, waste away in the house and bewail
the unholy feast named after my father, in solitary weeping. For I cannot
even grieve to the full extent which would please my heart, since this lady,
who is in fact no lady, loudly reproaches me with such shameless taunts
as these: “Wicked and hateful girl, have you alone lost your father, and is
no one else in the world grieving? May your death be harsh, and may the
gods below never free you from your current mourning”.67
Anna delivers an impression of the ultimate end of everything. That is of

supreme importance for our argument – nothing after Alexios was worthily
of any mention. Moreover, this was not an appraisal that was asserted just
once in the text. If Anna solely wrote a history of the emperor’s deeds than
this kind of conclusion would be quite unbecoming, since among emperor’s
successes she must have had enumerated his successor. She invigorated
the rhetoric of lament through the scent of a disaster. Once more Anna’s
history turned its attire toward monody, or, better said, toward a tragedy.
Alexios’ death did not bring any kind of sorrowful end to anyone. One
might, of course, reproach that this was just a vague rhetoric of lament,
which corresponded with a discourse of a loving daughter. However, there
was not such rhetoric that could be defined as ‘vague’, since it was a skill
that was carefully learned, and one’s mind was through the course of many
65 Ibid, no.1.
66 Alexias, XV 11,20 (15), p. 503.
67 Soph. Electra, 282-290.
years being sharpened to become fully conversant with its rules. Therefore,
Anna’s change of generic frame for the conclusion of her history is not a
coincidental occurrence, or a form chosen to suit the purpose of bewailing
a father, solely because she was a loving daughter. If that was the situation,
then an appropriate monody or epitaphios logos would be quite agreeable.
History, however, had a completely different agenda. In this case it was
meant to deliver a ‘truth’ about Anna Komnene’s Iliad of woes.
5 Doukai – Construction of an
Alternative Political Discourse
We all speak from a specific time and place, from a specific history and reality –
there are no neutral discourses. When white scholars claim to have a neutral and
objective discourse, they are not acknowledging the fact that they too write from
a specific place, which of course is neither neutral nor objective or universal, but
dominant. It is a place of power.
− Girada Kilomba, Plantation Memories. Episodes of Everyday Rasism, p. 31
As it is nowadays, it was a thousand years ago. There were no neutral

discourses. The claim for objectivity was a claim for one’s own truth and
emanation of power. Feminist narratology acknowledged women’s litera-
ture from the 18th century as the core of the future feminist movement.1
When a voice was given to silent social groups, their passivity turned to
activity, and their silence produced a completely new discourse. With
emergence of a new discourse we face an actualisation of a new power
– claim for pen is a claim for a voice, and a claim for a voice is a claim for
public authority.2
In 12th century Constantinople, social tensions were not focused on
racism. Tenets of that discourse were based on the tensions between two
most prominent aristocratic houses that emerged as centripetal forces in
the late 70s of the XI century. Strife between the Komnenoi and the Doukai
started with the ascent of Isaac I Komnenos in 1057 to the imperial throne
(1057-1059). Just two years after he abdicated in favour of Constantine X
Doukas (1059-1067), at least one person was left deeply unsatisfied with
this outcome – it was Anna Dalassene, at that time, a wife of Isaac’s brother
John Komnenos.3
The event of 1059 had roused a serious tension between two houses
that was in the next twenty years further aggravated. 4 With regard to
1 Lanser, 1992, p. 8.

2 On the issue of female ‘voice’ in narratology as a sort of claim for public authority see Lanser,
1986, passim; Lanser, 1992, p. 9-24.
3 cf. Bryennios, Histoire, p. 80-81.
4 The conflict actually happened due to the alleged siding of Anna Dalassene with Romanos
IV Diogenes against the Doukai. She was expelled to the Prinkippo island with her children.
For the details see Bryennios, Historie, p. 128-131.
this, the histories that emerged in this and subsequent period are crucial
for our understanding how specific discourses were perpetuated. I refer
mainly to the histories of Michael Attaleaites, Michael Psellos, Skylitzes
Continuatus, and later those of Nikephoros Bryennios, John Zonaras and
Anna Komnene. All these ‘historians’ crafted new discourses that were
either discourses of the governing social group, or alternative discourse of
a group that was sidelined but sought to acknowledge its power through
construction of its own political agenda, or propaganda, that was promoted
through these highly influential texts, which circulated among highest
social strata.
What is so specific about Anna’s history that makes her creditable for
a creation of an alternative political discourse? On the first place, Alexiad
was written by a woman, wherefore we face elements of gendered discourse
that puts forward women as protagonists, invests them with agency and
empowers them. Yet, what is remarkable about Anna’s gender discourse
is that construction of female characters was conducted through sieve of
male qualities. Although most of female protagonists we see shrouded in
the guise of typical woman behaviour, their agency and influence on the
emperor and politics raises them above these ossified categories. As I have
already shown, Anna’s gendered literary style is apparent in her lament
which is a clear echo from Ancient tragedies and actually metonymical
characterisation of the authoress herself – on the scale between Electra
and Iphigenia. Lanser’s appraisal of 19th century text of a ‘young bride
whose husband censored her correspondance’ suffices to illustrate the
point: ‘Beneath the “feminine” voice of self-effacement and emotionality,
then, lies the “masculine” voice of authority that the writer cannot inscribe
openly’.5
Anna’s depiction of female characters as protagonists of her story
presents other side of the same issue. At the center of Anna’s attention
was women power exertion. In that manner, she procured for herself
the right to excercise political power. Secondly, she concentrated on her
mother’s oikos as a protagonist in the crucial story of the Alexiad – Alexios’
ascendance to the imperial throne. Furthermore, members of the Doukai
house are all prominent figures in Anna’s history. We find them in the most
important positions, and from literary point of view, they are focalisers
of many stories. Thus, stories are told from their perspective, or stories
report about them.
5 Lanser, 1986, p. 681.

Doukai – Construction of an Alternative Political Discourse 165
Doukai (οἱ Δοῦκαι) in the Alexiad present one of the key protagonists.
Anna has deployed the same form to denote the whole genos as an actor in
several episodes. Doukai were indeed a heterogenous family that had two
main branches that will be discussed here – imperial branch that descended
from the emperor Constantine X Doukas (1059-1067) and Caesar branch,
that of emperor’s brother, powerful Caesar John Doukas.
Anna was descendant of Caesar John Doukas – he was grandfather of
her mother Eirene Doukaina. Anna’s partiality towards the members of her
mother’s family is not confusing or unexpected at all. One would hardly
expect to see a different picture. Yet, there are several aspects of the story
connected with the Doukai that show complex political ideology, and not
just familial sympathy. As it has already been stressed, Anna had made
protagonists of those people that were directly connected to her imperial
right, or to constitutive elements of her personal political ideology. Moreover,
Anna’s ideology was not equal to the current imperial, which had been
developing and reached its climax in the reign of John II Komnenos.
Doukai, that ‘illustrious family’ (τὸ γένος περίβλεπτος) are one of the
main themes of several books, and members of that family present decisive
characters in the first three books of the Alexiad, which bear the highest
ideological importance since they refer to the ascent of the Komnenoi. We
follow closely a story about the Doukai’s family after the loss of the imperial
throne, about their adjustment to new political circumstances and their
remodeled political agency. Very particular to Anna Komnene is placement
of the whole oikos under the command of her great grandfather Caesar John
Doukas. Feeble Michael VII (1071-1078) was not commendable in any way
for the argument about the illustrious genos.
For Anna, the only important members of the imperial branch were
Maria of Alania and her son Constantine Doukas. They were personally
relevant for our author. Had they been unnecessary for Anna’s own political
argument, they would have been excluded from the story, or their role would
have been diminished. Such was the case, for example, with porphyrogen-
netos Konstantios, a brother of the emperor Michael VII. As Stanković has
observed, Konstantios’ place in the Alexiad was reserved for the young
Constantine, son of Michael VII.6 Contrary to that, in Bryennios history we
encounter Konstantios as the closest Alexios’ associate.7 Yet, Konstantios’
legitimate right to the imperial throne that we apprehend from Bryennios
6 Stanković, 2007, p. 172.

7 Stanković, 2007, p. 171.
history is completely erased from Anna’s.8 For her, the only holder of the
imperial right from the imperial branch of the Doukai was Constantine
Doukas, son of the emperor Michael VII. Moreover, Anna was supposed to
be married to porphyrogennetos Constantine. Through this relationship, a
full juncture of the two imperial houses could have been fulfilled. In that
constellation of powers, Anna would have been supreme among the first
generation of the Komnenian porphyrogennetoi. The conditional ‘what
would happen if the past was different’ was foundational tenet of Anna’s
argument that she was supreme among her siblings, due to her connections
with both branches of the Doukai. This powerful statement stood behind
Anna’s literary style when she modeled her protagonists, and structured
her story. The Alexiad delivers a story about the preeminence of the Doukai
over the Komnenoi. This is how the story of Alexios’ reign and deeds unfolds.
Creation of an alternative discourse was in its vogue again at the end of John
II Komnenos reign (1118-1143). Anna Komnene and her younger brother Isaac
were political outcasts but ready to answer John’s presumptuous building
activity and establishment of his dynasty. They differed among themselves
in the modes of enunciating their agendas. Whereas Isaac chose the same
discursive vehicle as his brother, plunging into building activity himself,
Anna immersed herself in the creation of a textual political manifesto that,
instead through imagery, spoke through text and its meaning.
The rise of the Komnenoi and the problem of apostasia
Around the time of the Emperor Manuel’s death in 1180, the manuscript of
the Alexiad underwent significant alterations, not in respect of their amount,
but in their meaning.9 Politically highly sensitive terms were replaced by
their neutral substitutes. The word apostasia, used to denote Komnenian
insurrection, at some point called for revisions by the copyists, who found
more appropriate word, such as, for instance, ἐπιχιρήσεως (an attempt).10
Several examples of the revisions will be suitable for the case in point:
8 cf. Stanković, 2007, p. 172.

9 Dieter R. Reinsh has concluded that the preserved manuscript from the 14th century (Parisinus
Coislinianus 311 (C)) that encompasses these interventions was probably copied from the
template from the late XII century – Reinsch, 1990, p. 246. The main discrepancies are between
the manuscript C and manuscripts F (Florentinus Laurentianus, 12th century) and V (Vaticanus
graecus 981, 14th century).
10 Alexias, Prolegomena – Die Handschriften, p. 25; Reinsch, 1990, p. 245.
Οἱ δε γε ἀποστάται (F) Κομνηνοὶ (C)

ἡ τῆς ἀποστασίας (F) Τῆς τοιαύτης βουλῆς (C)
Τὴν ἀποστασίαν ἐκείνῳ (F, V) Πράξιν ἐκείνων (C)
(ἀπαγγέλλει) τὴν ἀποστασίαν (F) Τὸ παρὰ τῶν Κομηνῶν γινόμενον (C)
Συναποστατῆσαι κἀκεῖνος (F) Συνἀκολουθῆσαι κἀκεῖνος τῶ τούτων
θελήματι (C)
Τοῦ κομνηνοῦ ἀποστασίας (F) Τῶν κομνηνῶν ἐπιχειρήσεως (C)
Τοῦ ἀποστάτου (F) Τούτων (C)
ἀποστασιαν (F, V) Τοιαύτην ἐπιχείρησιν (C)
Even though it is impossible to conclude accurately when these interventions

happened, it is essential that this term was highly controversial and needed
to be changed.11 That means that Anna’s work was considered problematic
towards the Komnenian ascent to the throne. Why, then, did Anna choose
this infamous term to describe the exploits of her father?
In the path-breaking study about Komnenian family and their impe-
rial ideology, Stanković has analyzed political significance of the Alexiad
and Material for History and concluded that they reflected an intellectual
supremacy of Eirene Doukaina’s circle in creation of Komnenian historiogra-
phy, where Alexios’ right to the imperial throne was sidelined and blurred.12
In contrast to that, the Anonymous introduction to Bryennios history brings
forth precisely this emendation – Alexios’ right that he derived from his late
uncle, Emperor Isaac Komnenos.13 This discrepancy between Anonymous
introduction and two aforementioned histories is striking and stresses Eirene
Doukaina’s tendency to control the construction of an alternative political
discourse, which was an antithesis to the dominant Komnenian discourse,
professed in the reign of John II Komnenos. The deployment of the notorious
word apostasia to denote the manner in which the Komnenians ascended
the imperial throne, served precisely for this purpose. It was first and most
important step in abatement of the Komnenoi regarding the Doukai. Anna
Komnene was a coryphaeus of the Doukai.
The term apostasia was a dominant signif ier among Byzantines to
denote the ultimate violation of the established order. Entries in the TLG
enumerate more than two hundred and fifty pages that denote various
uses of this word, but mainly those that pertain to the categories we find
11 Manuscript C and the lost Toulouse manuscript are considered copies of the same template
that encompassed ‘ideological embelishments’ – Reinsch, 1990, p. 246.
12 Stanković 2006, p. 205.
13 cf. Stanković: 2010, 141.
in the Sudae lexicon – it was a word used to denote rebellion of a subject

against his master, or a type of heretical disposition as an act of rebellion
against orthodoxy. The case of Arius is listed as an example.14 However,
more interesting than this quantitative analysis and categorisation of the
applied term, is the understanding we find among Byzantine authors. For
our case, the most important is the entry we find in Bryennios’ history,
when he speaks about the rebellion of his own predecessor, Nikephoros
Bryennios, who was, after all, the unsuccessful apostate15:
John Bryennios had immediately sent a letter to his brother rousing him
to rebellion (πρὸς ἀποστασίαν αὐτὸν ἐρεθίζοντα). He received that letter
in Dyrrachium, and being full of anxiety, he did not know what to do.
He considered terrible thing going forward with apostasia, and saw
this as a cause of the utmost ruin (καὶ μεγίστων κακῶν αἴτιον); to expose
oneself to such evident danger, and f inding contemptible the whole
design, he did not consider it an act of virtuous, wise and noble man
(οὐκ ἀνδρὸς ἔκρινεν ἀγαθοῦ εἶναι καὶ συνετοῦ καὶ γενναίου). He persisted
in such deliberations for a long period, although he was often roused by
the letters of his brother.16
As evident from this passage, apostasia was a formidable act that provoked
dire consequences. Bryennios argument dwells on the reluctance of his
direct ancestor and eponymous predecessor to partake in the open rebellion
against the emperor.17 This was typical rhetorical tool when writers needed
to soothe away the guilt for the ignoble deed. The easiest way was to ascribe
the inception to the other character, and then proceed on with the story
where the protagonist only participates in the event provoked by the other.
That literary style was used by Anna Komnene to present the role of Caesar
John Doukas in the Komnenian rebellion. His case is even more interesting
since Anna Komnene stifled his agency at the outset of the rebellion as
14 Suidae, p. 294.
15 Nikephoros Bryennios the Elder had rebelled against Nicephorus Botaneiates, but his
insurrection was put down by Alexios Komnenos in 1078, after which he was blinded.
16 Bryennios, Histoire, p. 219 (6.12):’Διακομισθέντων οὖν πρὸς αὐτὸν τῶν γραμμάτων κατὰ τὸ
Δυρράχιον, πλήρης ἦν ὁ ἀνὴρ φροντίδος, οὐκ ἔχων ὁ τι καὶ δράσειε. τό τε γὰρ πρὸς ἀποστασίαν χωρῆσαι
δεινὸν ᾤετο καὶ μεγίστων κακῶν αἴτιον, τό τε ἑαυτὸν εἰς προῦπτον κίνδυνον παραδοῦναι πάντων
καταφρονήσαντα οὐκ ἀνδρὸς ἔκρινεν ἀγαθοῦ εἶναι καὶ συνετοῦ καὶ γενναίου. τούτοις παλαίων τοῖς
λογισμοῖς διέμεινε μέχρι πολλοῦ, καίτοι συχνῶς ὑπὸ ἐπιστολῶν ἐρεθιζόμενος ὑπὸ τοῦ ἀδελφοῦ’.
17 And two more times he had stressed the hesitation of Nikephoros Bryennios – Bryennios,
Histoire, p. 223, and also when he refrained from tyranny – Bryennios, Histoire, p. 229.
much as she could. Eventually he acceded to participate in the rebellion in

order to support the cause of his great son-in-law.
In the epoch of John II Komnenos, it was in the vogue again to promote
the Christ-loving (philochriston) emperor, who was equated with the Christ
Pantokrator.18 Thus, in the mind of every Byzantine, apostasia encompassed
various crucial meanings that denoted one’s illegitimacy, avarice and ir-
reverence towards both Emperor (chosen by people) and Christ.19 Of course,
apostasia could turn into ennomos arche (legal rule) if the rebel was granted
a popular assent.20
This term, found among ancient writers as a denominator of rebellion,
was also used to denote a rebellion against God. Not coincidentally, the
most famous apostate was the pagan emperor Julian, the last one who
tried to restore the Roman religion, wherefore he was labeled with this
particular term. In the case of the Alexiad, sacral aspect is very important as
a rhetorical tool for transmitting Anna’s shrouded critique of her father – the
one who started his rebellion in the last week before the great Lent, and
who conquered the city on the most sacred Christian day, the Holy Easter.
Alexios’ apostasia, ended in the slaughter of the citisens, on the most holy
day, wherefore we follow a detailed account of his deep repentance. Here
we come across textual dichotomy – surface text was created to refute the
allegations of John the Oxite, but the subtext had negative connotation of
the apostasia and slaughter conducted on the most sacred Christian day.
Anna shrouded the whole rebellion in a sacral guise and Alexios’ apostasia
had even greater impact, being not only an act against the Roman people,
18 Def initely, the most prominent example of this imperial image is his monastic endow-
ment, but apart from that see for example, excerpt from Michael Italikos’ Basilikos Logos for
the porphyrogennetos and autocrator John Komnenos, which is just textual application of the
discursive ideological motive: ‘ἐμέλπομεν ἐμμελέστατα καὶ σοὸ καὶ Θεῷ, τῷ αὐτοκράτορι καὶ τῷ
παντοκράτορι. οὐ γὰρ κατὰ θάλασσαν, ἀλλὰ κατὰ γῆν τὰ τερατουργήματα’ –Italikos, Discours a
Jean Comnène, p. 256 (10.11); For the motive of Christ-loving emperor see Basilakes’ Logos for the
glorious emperor John Komnenos, which abounds with this motif: ‘Τάδε σὲ καὶ ὡς βασιλέα φαίνουσι
καὶ ὡς φιλόχριστον ὑποφαίνουσι […] τὰ δ’ ἐντεῦθεν εἴης ἂν ὁ φιλοχριστότατος, καί σου τὴν εὐσέβειαν
σταυρικὸν ἀνεκήρυξε σύμβολον ἐκεῖνο τὸ καὶ τὴν φαινομένην ὕλην ὑπέρτιμον καὶ τὴν ἐνεργουμένην
δύναμιν ἀνυπέρβλητον’. – Basilakes, Basilikos logos for the emperor John Komnenos, p.67 (14.21).
19 Cf. Prodromos’ Monody that mentions the insurrection of Constantine Gabras in Trebisont
against emperor John II Komnenos – ‘ὁ γὰρ τοι πρὸς βασιλέως τὴν τῆς Τραπεζοῦντος ἐμπεπιστευμένος
ἡγεμονίαν φθάνει τὴν ἐκ μακροῦ, ὡς ἔοικεν ὠδινημένην αὐτῷ τυραννίδα τότε τεκών, καὶ ἀποστασίαν
μὲν ἐγείρει κατὰ τοῦ θεοστεφοῦς αὐτοκράτορος’ – Theodore Prodromos, Monodie, p. 9-10 (107.110).
20 cf. recent study on Byzantine republicanism. As Kaldellis stressed ‘popularity meant legality’.
The crucial factor in overcoming the rebellion and ‘legitimising’ the emperor was situated in
the hands of the Roman people, in its manifold and varied emanations – through senat, army,
mob, or any other particular group – Kaldellis, 2015, p. 104
but also an act against the God. It is highly peculiar that Anna’s literary
predecessor, Michael Psellos’ did not use the term apostasia to denote Isaac
Komnenos sedition, but precisely the word tyrannia. Yet, this term was
considered as antinomy of basileia – which is particularly evident from Psellos’
Chronographia where he denoted Isaac as antibasileus of the emperor Michael
VI.21 From the very beginning of Isaac’s tyrannia we see him as a highly
favourable opponent. Even more peculiar in this sense are the headings in the
Psellos’ text that were added later, although no precise date can be offered. In
the headlines of the chapters, we do face a word apostasia for the insurrection
of Isaac Komnenos – ‘περί τῆς τοῦ Κομνηνοῦ ἀποστασίας’22 – although nowhere
in the text before and afterwards we come across this word in connection to
this particular event. Could this heading be later – Komnenian, or even post-
Komnenian – addition in Psellos’ manuscript for specific political reasons?
If we start from hypothesis that the manuscript of Chronographia was kept
in the Doukai’s library, could we make a connection between the heading
for the Isaac Komnenos rule, and the heading for the Constantine X Doukas
reign – περί τῆς εἰσελεύσεως τοῦ Δουκὸς εἰς τὸν Κομνηνὸν καὶ προχειρίσεως?
Isaac’s apostasia is directly opposed to Doukas’ ‘taking of the power’. These
are small but ideologically very significant additions. The idea that Isaac
conquered the throne by his tyrannia, and that Constantine Doukas received
the throne from the hands of Isaac, which denoted his rule from the very
beginning as ennomos arche, was introduced in Psellos’ Chronographia firstly,
although his argument was not directed toward praise of Constantine X
Doukas.23 Yet, Anna used the concept of the Doukai’s ‘legal’ (ennomos) rule
and fully elaborated it as a political argument in her own history.
We face two different traditions in terms of Komnenian ascent to the
throne. First pertains to the Isaac’s establishment of lawful rule and dwells
on his legacy – it is present in the Anonymous introduction to Bryennios’
history – and the other tradition is completely subversive to the image of
‘legality’ of the Komnenian house – and is immanent in Anna Komnene’s
discourse.
Story that we encounter in the Anonymus introduction to Bryennios
history, dwells on the idea of Alexios’ right on his uncle’s throne – ‘καὶ
ἀνακαλεῖται κληρονομίαν τοῦ θείου αὐτοῦ’.24 This kind of connection with the
21 This was stressed by Cheynet, 1990, p. 178.

22 Psellos, Chronographia, p. 208.
23 The subtext of Psellos’ characterisation of Constantine X Doukas has been proposed by
Repajić, 2016, p. 368-379
24 Bryennios, Anonyme Preface, p.65 (5).
Komnenian imperial predecessor is completely absent from Anna Komnene’s

Alexiad.25 Suffice it to say, in these two sources two mutually opposed
political concepts are present – Alexios’ kleronomia and Alexios’ apostasia.
In Anna’s presumptuous story on Alexios I Komnenos, we do not encoun-
ter an expected rhetorical overture with famous ancestors and illustrious
predecessors. That ideological cliché was developed among court rhetors
of John II Komnenos’ time, namely in the poems of Theodore Prodromos,
and is also present in the versed chronicle of Constantine Manasses (c. 1155),
where Isaac Komnenos resorted to tyranny due to Michael VI’ disrespect
for the generals from the East. Apart from Isaac, the only one named was
Constantine Doukas as his supporter in the tyranny.26 Thus, Manasses
had intentionally sequenced only two characters among all other famous
generals to set the tone for the closing verses of his chronicle about the
rivalry of the two genē. Nevertheless, as expected, Manasses Chronicle
closes with the eulogy on the greatest and the most victorious genos that
had ruled the Roman Empire, that is, the Komnenoi.27 Anna’s story in the
Alexiad about this conflict was significantly different. Even more striking
in case of the Alexiad and its protagonist, Alexios Komnenos, is that that for
such peculiarities, such as the illustrious and imperial ancestry, there was
not any need for invention. Alexios already had an imperial predecessor, on
whose legacy Anna could easily put his claim. Prodromos makes direct con-
nection between Isaac and Alexios, by pairing them with the two Doukai’s
rulers, and setting the tone for the eulogy of the young co-emperor Alexios,
Emperor John II’s son.28 Yet, this rare connection between two Komnenian
emperors, Isaac and Alexios, when it comes to contemporary histories, is
made only in Anonymous introduction to Bryennios history. In contrast to
that, Alexiad delivers a story about Alexios’ apostasia, his rebellion against
the legitimate ruler, that is, Nikephoros III Botaneiates (1078-1081). Seen
in comparison to Zonaras’ account, which Anna passionately follows, a
crucial difference between these two texts is perceptible, regarding the
nature of Alexios’ insurrection. The same story – about Botaneiates’ great
love for the Komnenian brothers – is present in both sources, and also the
same background motive for their mutiny is used: the dread from being
harmed by the two slaves, Borilos and Germanos.29 Nevertheless, Zonaras
25 cf. Stanković, 2006, p. 204-205.

26 Manasses, Chronicle, 6260-6265; 6270-6275.
27 Manasses, Chronicle, 6610-6620.
28 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, I, 130-134, p. 181.
29 Zonaras XVIII 19, 31-20, p. 726; Alexias, II 1,3 (19.32), p. 55-56.
brings up the crucial information that is omitted from Anna’s account: ‘The
Komnenoi, Isaac and Alexios, were exceedingly honoured and loved by the
emperor, and he designated them as his successors’.30
According to Anna, Nikephoros Botaneiates appointed his young relative
Sinadenos as his successor, wherefore he immediately deprived porphyrogen-
netos Constantine Doukas of his imperial right, which was the trigger for the
rebellion. So, what made Anna Komnene to recede that much from Zonaras’
story? What is her argument in the story about the Komnenian revolt?
If we follow closely, key protagonists are members of the Doukai house,
from both branches, the imperial one – that descended from the emperor
Constantine X Doukas – and the other, non-imperial – that descended
from his brother Caesar John Doukas. From the Komnenian side we have
Isaac, Alexios and Dalassene as protagonists of this story, whereas from
the Doukai’s part we have Maria of Alania and her son porphyrogennetos
Constantine, Caesar John Doukas, his grandsons Michael and John Doukas,
his great son-in-law George Palaiologos, and ultimately, Eirene Doukaina.
Everything that was happening from the very beginning – Komnenian
admission to the court and close relationship with the emperor – could not
have been achieved had not there been support from the empress Maria of
Alania. The whole story is presented for the cause of the Doukai, wherefore
we can extract two main arguments:
1 Komnenoi conquered the throne to assure porphyrogennetos Constantine
right to the imperial throne, and thus, subsequently, ascertain the
legality of their rule.
2 The whole rebellion could not acquire a legal status until Eirene Doukaina
was crowned augousta.
We encounter the idea of the Doukai’s legitimacy and legality, which was not
customary for the Roman identity that cherished capability above congenital
benefits. Yet, we should bear in mind that Komnenoi empowered the idea
and motive of imperial legitimacy, in their new and completely dynastic
political program. In the context of the establishment of the Komnenian
dynasty, pointing out the illegal and apostatic nature of their rise to the
imperial thone was clearly an appalling message.
Alexiad shows an ideological inconsistency with the synchronic prevalent
political discourse – Komnenoi were presented as apostatai for the second
time, which is paradox after Isaac I Komnenos tyrannia had turned into
30 ‘οἱ δὲ Κομνηνοὶ ὁ Ἰσαάκιος καὶ ὁ Ἀλέξιος «ὑπερβαλλόντως πρὸς τοῦ βασιλέως καὶ τετίμηντο καὶ
ἐστέργοντο, καὶ διαδόχους αὐτοὺς τῆς βασιλείας ὠνόμαζε’. – Zonaras XVIII 19, 31-20, p. 726.
lawful rule. Thus, if Alexios was holder of Isaac’s kleronomia, as we read

from the Anonymous introduction, he could not have been apostate at all.
For Anna, the only trustees of the imperial legitimacy were the members
of the Doukai house. Whole Komnenian apostasia was coloured by that
argument – it was turned into legal rule only after two crucial issues were
solved – the question of Constantine Doukas’ kleronomia, and Eirene
Doukaina’s coronation. The discourse of the Komnenian revolt shows
remarkable political prof iciency of our authoress when she needed to
immerse in the struggle with the prevalent political discourse that was
created and promulgated on the court of John II Komnenos. Prodromos’
idea of the one powerful imperial lineage deriving from the two imperial
houses – the Komnenoi and the Doukai – was adopted and adapted by
Anna Komnene to serve her own agenda.31 Her precedence over brother
John was situated in her peculiar connection with the porphyrogennetos
Constantine Doukas. Therefore, we follow closely and simultaneously the
stories of both Doukai branches and their crucial role in the Komnenian
ascent. Without them, it would not have been Alexios I Komnenos on the
imperial throne:
Among those present then were Alexios’ closest relatives: the above-
mentioned Caesar John Doukas, a man who gave good counsel and in
the most competent fashion put it into practice (I myself saw little of
him in the past); Michael and John, his grandsons; and of course George
Palaiologos, the husband of their sister. All these were present, working
hard to canvass all votes for their own choice, pulling all the strings,
as they say, and cleverly making use of every device to have Alexios
proclaimed emperor. Thus they converted everyone to their way of think-
ing and Isaac’s party gradually diminished, for the Caesar John proved
irresistible; no one could rival his fine intellect, his tremendous stature,
his regal presence. The Doukas family did and said everything; there was
no advantage that they did not promise to the officers, and the rank and
file of the army, if Alexios ascended the throne.32
31 A celebration of the both imperial families and the motive of their binding was actually
the leitmotif of the rhetoric that flourished on the court of John Komnenos – Stanković, 2006,
p. 202-209. Nevertheless, Anna Komnene overtakes that motive only partially – she never
acceded to Prodromos’ term Komnenodoukikon that denoted a complete merging of the two
houses. Contrary to that, Anna’s was determined to maintain the distinction between the two
houses, with the preeminence on the side of the Doukai.
32 Alexiad, p. 98-90.
The Doukai in the Alexiad
It remains as a fact that the Doukai were historically very prominent,

especially in the years, which the Alexiad encompasses. On that basis,
one could easily disavow their dominant role in the Alexiad as relevant to
Anna’s personal inclinations. However, I still think that the Doukai’s real
historical role in the recounted events should be thoroughly reassesed. As
a buttress of my argument, I have used Magdalino’s observation that Anna
exaggerated the Doukai’s family contribution and that as he said, ‘there is
good reason to doubt whether Alexios’ own wife, Eirene Doukaina, put the
interests of the family into which she married before those of the family
into which she had been born’.33 To begin with, Alexios’ wife was a member
of the house of the Doukai, and, we read from the Alexiad that his whole
ascendance was due to their assistance and help. However, such prevalence
of the members of the Doukai house is not apparent at all in Zonaras’ his-
tory, whose account and sequence of events is very similar to Anna’s. For
Zonaras, the only member of this house that was in focus of narration
was Eirene Doukaina, and his reference to her is not praiseworthy at all.
Second, some might conclude that the omnipresence of the Doukai in the
Alexiad could be due to the sources that were accessible to Anna Komnene.
This thesis was present in the historiography as early as Chalandon’s study
appeared, where he hypothesised that there could had existed some history
written by George Palaiologos that served Anna for the reconstruction of the
Norman siege of the Dyrrachium, for the Pecheneg wars, and Komnenian
entrance to Constantinople.34 Chalandon’s assumption about the existent
Bryennios’ memoirs about the squabbles with Gottfried de Bouillon and
about Alexios’ sojourn in the Philipopollis in 1114, was further elaborated in
Howard-Johnston’s study where he conjectured that Bryennios’ had already
produced the whole material for the Alexiad, which was later taken and
only adapted by Anna Komnene.35 Frankopan assumed that Anna had at
her disposal a great part of the material, which came from her uncles, on
the basis of which she had reconstructed the events in her history.36 On
the other hand, Sinclair expresses doubts about Anna’s use of the memoirs
from her uncle John Doukas, based on the interpretation of Anna’s text that
she delivers ‘ambiguous and muted descriptions of many of John Doukas’
33 Magdalino, 1993, p. 200-201.

34 Chalandon, 1900, p. XI.
35 Howard-Johnston, 1996, p. 276-288.
36 Frankopan, 2001, p. 64-65.
campaigns’,37 which I find hard to accept. Furthermore, Sinclair expresses his

skepticism that ‘we cannot be certain if the minimal, negative or lukewarm
portrayals of certain generals who served under Alexios are by Anna’s own
design or a consequence of her material’.38 Here, however, I would pause
for a moment. Precisely this question makes the crucial difference in our
approach and reading of the Alexiad – are Anna’s characterisations due to
her own inclinations or due to the information found in sources?
Sinclair’s rather ambiguous consideration does not concur with his ac-
ceptance of Frankopan’s commentary that Anna Komnene ‘deliberately
played down Melissenos’ role in military successes as part of an effort to
craft a negative portrait of this individual, perhaps because Melissenos’
rebelled against his close friend Alexios, something Anna may have found
too damaging to disclose’.39 Frankopan observes that Anna intentionally
‘played down Melissenos’ role’, but he does not investigate if it was for her
own political agenda. In his case, it seems as if Anna Komnene did not actu-
ally have any personal agenda, likes and dislikes, and that her writing was
shaped according to ‘Alexios’ expectations’. Contrary to that, I will show that
Anna was shaping her discourse mostly on her mother’s expectations, and of
course, her own inclinations. Sinclair’s somewhat constrained observation
that – ‘perhaps Anna utilised material provided by Doukas, but manipulated
the information accordingly’ – leads us directly to the core of the problem.
Neville’s hypothesis on the existence of Caesar John Doukas history is very
insightful and encouraging.40 Another of her interesting conjectures is that
last chapters of Bryennios’ history seem to be written from the perspective
of George Palaiologos, whom Anna also cites as her source. 41 It is probable
that there existed histories or historical memoirs of Caesar John Doukas
and George Palaiologos. Nevertheless, I would like to push this assumption
even further.
I do not think that both spouses used these or any other sources only because
they were at their disposal. Of course, some source base must had existed and
influenced the core of the narration, yet I would never exclude the importance
of the author’s influence on the narration and the reason for a particular
representation of any story. There should be drawn a precise line between the
story and the discourse – what is told and how it is told. Who are the actors,
37 Sinclair, 2012, p. 387.

38 Sinclair, 2012, p. 388.
39 Frankopan, 2006, p.168-170, 183.
40 Neville, 2008, passim. Neville, 2012, p. 49.
41 Neville, 2012, p. 47.
and whose agency is the one that shapes the story? Judging solely from this
elementary narratological questions, striking differences appear even between
the narratives of Bryennios and Komnene, although they were considered
mutually very close. I will just point one case that enlightens this issue.
For a significant period, scholars could not discern an enigmatic ap-
pearance of the two porphyrogennetoi under different, but yet, very similar
names – Konstantios Doukas and Constantine Doukas. 42 The former was
the purple-born brother of the emperor Michael VII, and the later was son
of the emperor Michael VII. As Stanković has noted, Konstantios’ imperial
legacy, based on his purple-birth comes to the fore in Bryennios history,
where Alexios supported this whole idea. 43 In contrast to this, in Anna
Komnene’s account, the only bearer of the Doukai imperial legacy is young
Constantine Doukas, the son of the late emperor, and Stanković concludes:
‘Whereas young Constantine Doukas at the beginning of Alexios’ reign
had been included into his house in consequence of the engagement to
the emperor’s elder daughter Anna, and therefore, found his place in the
Komnenian ideology, and particularly in the discourse that was promoted
in the Alexiad, Konstantios had been left excluded from this imperial family
and its ideology, and consequently, from the historical memory’. 44
For Anna Komnene, the most important member of the imperial branch
of the Doukai, was precisely young Constantine Doukas. In contrast to
that, Konstantios was mentioned only in the passage that deals with the
battle against Robert Guiscard, where he lost his life. Although Konstantios
Doukas does not feature prominently in the sources we deal with, except
in Bryennios’ history, he was very important figure for the Doukai oikos,
since he was the first purple-born child after one hundred years. 45 The
ideological lucky charm – being born in the purple – had once again come
to the fore, and the new genos – Doukai – was provided with a necessary
means to claim a new dynasty. 46 Yet, the phenomenon of porphyrogennesis
had to wait for the Komnenians to be fully promoted in the strife for the
imperial ‘legitimacy’.
42 See Gautier’s confusion with the names Konstantios and Constantinos – Bryennios, Histoire,
p. 235; On the other hand, Polemis has discerned correctly that these passages refer to Konstantios,
the brother of Michael VII, and not to his son – Polemis, 1968, p. 50.
43 In the moment of Botaneiates rebellion, Alexios Komnenos proposed Konstantios Doukas
as the emperor, but the Doukas draw back – Bryennios, Histoire, p. 249.
44 Stanković, 2006, p. 203.
45 Stanković, 2006, p. 44.
46 Ibid.
However, in the time when the Alexiad was written, the idea of the impe-
rial legitimacy acquired by the birth in the Porphyra reached its climax.
Thus, Anna’s peculiar fashion of naming all the porphyrogennetoi served
to transmit the message about that person’s imperial provenance, and
hitherto, his/her legitimacy. All the porphyrogennetoi in the Alexiad were
introduced for specific political reasons. These epithets functioned as codes
for the 12th century Byzantines. Anna’s reference to so many of them points
out exactly the complexity of the heterogeneous social structure of the
Komnenian oikos. With the exception of the first generation of the purple-
born Komnenoi, we encounter several other porphyrogennetoi – Konstantios
Doukas, Constantine Doukas, Zoe Doukaina, Nikephoros and Leo Diogenes.
The Alexiad delivers the story about their destinies. The crucial one is the
destiny of Constantine Doukas, to whom Anna Komnene was betrothed. She
connected her own claim to his imperial legacy. Nevertheless, her discourse
was not that simple at all. Behind the family story and characterisation, lies
an intricate political agenda that served to answer the dominant imperial
ideology of her time.
The creation of an alternative discourse, which served to promote the
house of the Doukai, was one of the main aims of this composite work. The
dominant Komnenian ideology sought to absorb the political discourse
of the rival house of the Doukai and did not count on the outcome of the
Alexiad. The scribes could scrape off the controversial words, yet they did
not succeed in scraping away the power and the influence of the Doukai’s
imperial legacy.
Dramatis Personae
Caesar John Doukas47
The most powerful figure in the Doukai oikos when the Alexiad’s story starts
was the Caesar John Doukas. Polemis’ misconstrued appraisal of the Caesar
is striking – ‘by nature the Caesar does not seem to have been very different
from his brother Konstantinos or from his nephew Michael, both notoriously
uninspiring personalities’. 48 Then, how is it possible that ‘a notoriously
uninspiring personality’ could have engaged successively with unpredictably
dangerous politics of the second half of the 11th century? Contrary to Polemis’
47 For basic historical information see. Skoulatos,1980, p. 138-145; Polemis, 1968, p. 34-42.
48 Polemis, 1968, p. 40.
statement, I am rather convinced that the Caesar was the most capable
policy maker in these decades. His virtuosity reflects prominently in the
family alliance he made with the Komnenoi, his competitors and enemies.
The story of the Caesar’s leading role in the Komnenian accession presents
the core of Anna’s argument.
Seeing the Caesar as a highly favourable protagonist in the Alexiad is not
an extraordinary occurrence at all. Caesar was Anna’s great grandfather
and, more than being just her formidable and vigorous predecessor, he
was, most probably, the genuine creator of the Doukai’s political discourse.
Most likely the Caesar John stood behind the writing impetus of Michael
Psellos’ second part of the Chronographia. Deeply ironic presentation of
the two emperors from the Doukai house – Constatine X and Michael VII
and considerably contrasting tone in preference to Caesar John Doukas,
calls for a profound caution when the interpretation of Psellos’ agenda
comes into question. There was a division inside the Doukai house, which
is noticeable in the sources, although we often come across unanimous
authors’ assurance that the Caesar John was serving his brother and his
legacy. 49 Nevertheless, in the subtext we see a dissonancy in relation to
the surface text, or its outer textual guise and inner narrative meaning.
Albeit Psellos’ work had not been finished, there is a clear bias in favour of
Caesar John, and mainly regarding the highly controversial destiny of the
emperor Romanos IV Diogenes (1068-1071).
Leonora Neville’s attempt to reconstruct a possible lost source on John
Doukas that was used by Bryennios and incorporated in his history in-
vigorates my observations. She concludes that John ‘emerges as one of the
major heroes of the history’,50 that he is ‘consistently depicted as the highly
sympathetic character’51 and that John’s importance in the text is most
probably exaggerated.52 This is a good starting point for understanding
the construction of his portrait in the Anna Komnene’s Alexiad, which
shares the same bias with Bryennios in this regard. I would add to this a
wider scope of the problem which was also stressed by Neville, namely that
Bryennios history can be regarded as ‘a muted call for a restoration of the
Doukas and Bryennios families to power’,53 and that the ‘lauding of the
Doukas and Bryennios families, and the ambiguous portrayal of Alexios
49 This is actually a prevalent discourse of the Byzantine writers we mention in these passages.
50 Neville, 2008, p. 170.
51 Neville, 2008, p. 171.
52 Ibid.
53 Neville, 2008, p. 169.
indicate that the work was speaking directly to the political controversies
of the early 12th century’.54 This is part of the shared political discourse in
both spouses’ histories. Problematic presentation of Alexios I Komnenos
in several cases exposes Anna’s contested attitude towards her father on
some peculiar issues. Moreover, Anna’s history seeks to restore the political
power of the Doukai, which happened to be an alternative and politically
subversive discourse in the time when she was composing her narrative.
Caesar before the Revolt

The first appearance of the Caesar John Doukas in the Alexiad is connected
to the dethronement of Michael VII. Caesar advised him to take a monastic
vow: ‘for he knew the fickleness of the new emperor and feared that some
more dreadful fate might befall him’.55 He is introduced to the audience
as ‘the Caesar John, the emperor’s uncle’ (ὁ καῖσαρ Ἰωάννης, ὁ πρὸς πατρὸς
ἀυτῷ θεῖος), the emperor’s advisor, which does not correspond with the
historical context in which these events were unfolding. Caesar John had
already been sidelined by the powerful eunuch Nicephoritzes. Yet, there is
not any mention of the notorious logothete in the Alexiad.
Especially interesting is the formula delivered – ‘Caesar and emperor’s
uncle’ – that attested John Doukas’ sibling connection with the emperor
Constantine X Doukas and his highly prominent position within the ruling
family. He was called ‘Caesar’ in all contemporary histories, and Anna
resorted to that far-resounding denomination of her ancestor. As Neville
pointed out ‘John’s title, Caesar, was traditionally used to designate the
emperor’s intended successor’.56 However, unfortunately for some, Caesar
did not get his chance to take over completely the reins of power. Neverthe-
less, there was an attempt in 1074, which is described in Bryennios’ history,
although the impetus for the acclamation came from Roussel de Bailleul,
and not directly from the Caesar.57 By virtue of this transfer of blame – the
prime idea for the usurpation of the imperial power was ascribed to Roussel
and not to Caesar John – Bryennios excuses Caesar for his act of tyranny.
The years of Michael VII’s reign were coloured with the strife and growing
distance between the emperor and his uncle. The installation of the new
logothete Nicephoritzes had as its outcome sidelining of the Caesar and his
54 Neville, 2008, 170.

55 Alexiad, p. 59.
56 Neville 2008, p. 171.
57 Bryennios, Histoire, p. 176-179.
closest associate, Michael Psellos.58 Therefore, in the years from 1074 to

1078 Caesar was not very close to his nephew at all. Yet, Anna Komnene’s
testimony does not leave that impression. Quite contrary, she insists on the
idea that Caesar John was still the protector and guardian of his brother’s
son and his legacy. In the same ideological guise, we read the passage on
Botaneiates marriage – it was Caesar John who was credited for the new
alliance between the Doukai and the emperor through the marriage with
the Michael’s wife, empress Maria of Alania59:
The Caesar John, however, after using every form of persuasion finally
achieved his purpose: Botaneiates married the Empress Maria, as I have
explained in more detail before. Thereafter John enjoyed great freedom
of speech in his dealings with her.60
This presentation of the Caesar does not correspond with the picture that
comes next. Presented as a guardian of the Michael VII and his family, the
Caesar could not have possibly been completely unaware of the plot that was
being prepared in the circle of Maria of Alania. When the Caesar was assured
that Michael was safe, his next task was to secure the safety of Michael’s wife
Maria and son Constantine. In this role, we will see the Caesar in the next
passages. The Caesar’s agency underwent a thorough, albeit paradoxical,
transformation from the first mention in the Alexiad, to the conclusion of
the Book III. His role was preserved for the Komnenian apostasia.
Caesar and the Onset of the Rebellion
Thinking that they ought to inform the Caesar John Doukas of their
adventures, they sent a messenger to tell him about the rebellion. John
was living on his estate at Morobundos. The messenger reached it in the
early afternoon and stood outside the doors of the house asking for the
Caesar. His grandson John, who was only a young boy and for that reason
constantly with the Caesar, saw him and ran inside to rouse his grandfather
(who was asleep). He announced that a revolution had broken out.61
58 Nicephoritzes was introduced to the court by Caesar John. Yet it was very soon showed as a
wrong move, since Nicephoritzes used his influence on the emperor to send the Caesar to Asia
Minor to conduct operations against Roussel de Bailleul, Bryennios, Histoire, p. 166-177.
59 cf. the account of Skylitzes Continuatus that deals in more detail with Botaneiates marriage, but
does not mention any kinf of Caesar John’s interference – Skylitzes Continuatus, Synexeia, p. 181-182.
60 Alexiad, p. 108.
61 Alexiad, p. 87.
The intriguing story about the Caesar’s passivity in the moments of the onset
of the Komnenian rebellion unfolds the course of action that was taken
by Alexios, Isaac and Dalassene, with the support of the empress Maria of
Alania. By Anna’s testimony, the Caesar had nothing to do with that. He
was even caught in sleep, which suggests that he was absolutely deprived of
any knowledge about the apostasia. His immediate reaction – exhortation
Alas! (φεῦ μοι) and that he ‘covered his eyes with his hands’62 – further
develops the notion of incertitude and unpleasant surprise. At that particular
moment he was invited by the Komnenoi to partake in the rebellion. And
‘after stroking his beard for a little while, like a man in deep thought, he
came to a firm decision – to join in the revolution with them’.63
This situation corresponds with Bryennios’ account on his ancestor’s
despondency over the same issue when his brother roused him to apos-
tasia. There is a clear consternation in both cases when the involvement
in apostasia came into the question. A vivid narrative unite that deploys
picturesque presentation of Caesar’s disposition is employed as a means
of abating his role in the inception of the rebellion. The onset was actually
the most problematic element of every apostasia. That is why we have a
sudden shift in the narrative concerning Caesar’s agency. After he acceded
to partake – συναποστατῆσαι – his passivity turned into vigorous activity
for the cause of his genos.
Almost the same unwillingness to partake in the rebellion we encounter
in the case of George Palaiologos. At first, he reproached the Komnenians
for the whole design, but acceded ultimately due to the persuasiveness of
his mother-in-law. It is rather peculiar to see two main characters from the
Doukai house that are featured in the Books II and III – Caesar John and
George Palaiologos – to be apportioned the same type of agency. Primarily
their reluctance to take part in the apostasia is stressed, and then we behold
the same turn of events – they accept to embark on that dangerous venture
and, moreover, they become the leading figures in the closing chapters on
the rebellion. The whole story ends with a conclusion that because of their
agencies, the Komnenian apostasia concluded successfully.
The peculiar situation that we follow during Komnenian apostasia from
the perspective of John Doukas and his great-son-in-law does not suffice
for the theory that it was due to the source basis Anna had at her disposal.
However, I would not exclude the possibility that Anna used accounts
written by these individuals. My main point on this matter is that whatever
62 Alexias, II 6,5 (79), p. 70.

63 Alexiad, p. 88.
content the author decided to use a source basis, it was, after all, her own
decision. Therefore, if Anna used John Doukas’ and Palaiologos’ memoirs
or something very similar to that, she chose her source basis, the content,
and the focalisers from which perspective she would tell her story.
Schisa – the key protagonist

After Caesar’s passivity turned into the active role, he started to acquire
necessary support, for ‘he was a glib talker, had a ready wit and a convincing
tongue, like a second Aeschines or Demosthenes’.64 Caesar’s appearance
with the reinforcement was followed by Alexios’ great exhilaration:
The Komnenoi sighted him a long way off and were more than delighted
by the fresh booty. My father, most of all, could not contain himself for
joy. He came on ahead of the others, threw his arms round John and
embraced him repeatedly.65
Further, they turned directly toward the Capital, following Caesar’ advice:
‘Later, at the instigation of the Caesar’s (τοῦ καίσαρος τοῦτο ὑποθεμένου), who
was in a hurry, they set forth on the road to the capital’.66
As I have already stressed, Alexios was proclaimed an emperor, on behalf
of the Doukai support, his kin (ἐξ ἀγχιστείας προσήκοντες). Although there
happened to be two candidates, namely Alexios and his elder brother Isaac,
the influence and the power of the Doukai, that is, mainly of the Caesar
John, had outweighed the principle of seniority.
According to Anna’s testimony, no one was able to resist Caesar John:
Isaac’s party gradually diminished, for the Caesar John proved irresistible;
no one could rival his fine intellect, his tremendous stature, his regal
presence’ (Ὁπου γὰρ Ἰωάννης ὁ καῖσαρ ἦν, οὐδεὶς τῶν ἁπάντων ἀντέχειν
ἠδύνατο ἦν γὰρ ἀπαράμιλλος οὗτος κατὰ τε φρονήματος ὄγκον καὶ σώματο
μέγεθος καὶ μορφὴν τυράννῳ προσήκουσαν).67
64 Alexiad, p. 88; Alexias, II 6,6 (92.93), p. 71: ‘ὁποῖος ἐκεῖνος ἐπιτρόχαλος ἐν λόγοις καὶ δεινὸς ἐν
νοήμασι πειθὼ τὲ ἐν γλώττῃ φέρων ᾗπερ Αἰσχίνης ἄλλος ἢ Δημοσθένης’.
65 Alexiad, p. 89; Alexias, II 6,9 (27.29), p. 72: ‘οἱ δὲ πόρρω τοῦτον θεασάμενοι καὶ τὴν καινὴν ἄγραν
ὑπεραγάμενοι, καὶ μάλιστα τούτων οὐμὸς πατὴρ Ἀλέξιος, οὐκ εἶχον ὑφ’ ἡδονῆς ὅ τι καὶ δράσαιεν.
προϋπαντήσας δὲ καὶ περιπλακεὶς τὸν καίσαρα κατησπάζετο’.
66 Alexiad, p. 89; Alexias, II 6,9 (29.30), p. 72: ‘τί τὸ ἐντεῦθεν; τῆς πρὸς τὴν βασιλεύουσαν ἀπαγούσης
ἥψαντο τοῦ καίσαρος τοῦτο ὑποθεμένου καὶ ἐπισπεύσαντος’.
67 Alexiad, p. 90; Alexias, II 7,2 (52.55), p.73:’Ὁπου γὰρ Ἰωάννης ὁ καῖσαρ ἦν, οὐδεὶς τῶν ἁπάντων
ἀντέχειν ἠδύνατο ἦν γὰρ ἀπαράμιλλος οὗτος κατὰ τε φρονήματος ὄγκον καὶ σώματο μέγεθος καὶ
The regal presence – μορφὴν τύράννῳ – was a feature of positive characterisa-

tion68 that we, rather indicatively, find in the case of the two most important
Caesars of the Alexiad, namely John Doukas and Nikephoros Bryennios.69 As
Cheynet has observed, tyrannos was the one who possessed the necessary
virtues for acquiring the throne.70
Anna’s description of Caesar John corresponds completely with Psellos’
description of parakoimomenos Basil, emperor Basil II’s first minister – Ὁ
δὲ ἀνὴρ οὖτος ἀξίωμα μέγιστον τῇ βασιλείᾳ Ῥωμαίων ἐτύγχανε γεγονώς,
κατά τε φρονήματος ὄγκον, καὶ σώματος μέγεθος, καὶ μορφὴν τύρρανῳ
πορσήκουσαν’.71
Psellos’ agenda was specific in terms of parakoimomenos. As Repajić
has concluded ‘although Psellos does not devote [to parakoimomenos] the
same narrative scope in his first book as in the case with the insurrections
of Skleros and Phokas, he [parakoimomenos] has the central place in the
narrative, both literally (chapters on his removal are situated in the central
part of the emperor’s biography) and ideally’.72
Parakoimomenos was the man who pulled all the strings of government
in the first years of Basil II’s rule, and in Chronographia he is paradigmatic
character whose contribution to the Empire was treated ungratefully by
the emperor Basileios.73 Psellos’ unyielding political interest coloured the
characterisation of the two prominent imperial advisors, parakoimomenos
Basileios and Orphanotrophos respectively. Adding a particualr rhetorical
flavour to the portrayal of his protagonists, he actually devised a shrewd
metaphorical self-representation.74 Psellos’ own role as an imperial advi-
sor of the emperor Constantine IX Monomachos, and his subsequent fall
from imperial favour is a story that lies behind the narrative techniques
he deployed in the presentation of the parakoimomenos Basileios. The
conflict between two Basils – the emperor and his advisor – was presented
in the light of the emperor’s unjustified hatred towards his advisor who
μορφὴν τυράννῳ προσήκουσαν’.

68 See Cheynet, 1990, p. 177-178.
69 Psellos has deployed synkrisis of Isaac Komnenos with the two most prominent imperial
advisors, namely parakoimomenos Basileios and John Orphanotrophos, where the tyrranic
appearance was a charaterisation that was deployed as a form of praise. Parakimomnenos
Basileios and Isaac are equaled in this sense – For analysis of Isaac Komnenos characterisation
in Psellos Chronographia, see. Repajić, 2016, p. 345-347.
70 Cheynet, 1990, p. 178.
71 Psellos, Chronographia, Ι, 3-4 p. 3.
72 Repajić, 2016, p. 120.
73 Repajić, 2016, p. 124-127.
74 For presentation of John Orphanotrophos see Repajić, 2016, p. 215-231.
contributed so much to his rule, being ‘the highest honour for the Roman
empire’.75
So, what could lie behind Anna’s emulation of Psellos in these particular
lines? It is rather curious that she deployed the same wording for the Caesar
John, the man who was, according to her testimony, the main responsible for
Alexios rise to the imperial throne. Thus, we have the same complication as in
Psellos’ story. He was also the member of the same oikos, the man of imperial
appearance, whose words Alexios’ listened as the God’s voice (ὥσπερ ἐκ θείας
ὀμφῆς).76 Here we have the same role of the closest advisor of a future emperor.
Afterwards, as the story develops, we come to the same culmination, that is,
the conflict between Caesar and Dalassene, where the only reason for this was
allegedly groundless wrath of the mother of the Komnenoi against the Doukai.
Anna’s intertextual ploy in this case raises our attention to her literary
style and agenda concerning the character of Caesar John Doukas. The
same wording and almost verbatim quotation serves as a specific narra-
tive overture for the audience to transmit the meaning of Psellos’ story.
This technique functioned in the same manner as it did with the classical
mimesis. Whenever a certain allusion was introduced in text, it was always
for particular reasons, be it a quotation from the Scriptures or from the
ancients. It was deployed as a means of invigorating the argument through
set of common motives and shared values. In this respect, Psellos was also
used as a ‘canonic writer’.77
In the case of parakoimomenos, it was a story about emperor’s closest advi-
sor that was actually a paradigm of the imperial ingratitude. Furthermore,
Psellos’ argument did not focus to blame Basil II. Quite contrary, the story
about this emperor, who was one of his favuorites, is the metaphorical
presentation of his own life story, and ingratitude of the emperor to whom
he served, Constantine IX Monomachos. This complicated situation shows
how Psellos’ literary style was complex and his agenda embedded deeply in
the text that only on the surface dealt with other topics.
Caesar and Alexios in front of the Constantinople

Caesar’s active role as a crucial Alexios’ advisor is one more time diminished
in the last phase of the rebellion, when the story brings us directly in front
of the Constantinopolitan walls. Again, we encounter the Caesar reluctant:
75 For analysis of these passages see Repajić 2016, p. 12-124.

76 Alexias, II 9,5 (40.41), p. 79.
77 Papaioannou has dealt particularly with this issue and stressed that Psellos has became a
new canon in the 12th century. See Papaioannou, 2013, p. 254-259.
At dawn he entered the Caesar’s tent and told him what he had decided.
At the same time he asked for John’s support while he examined the walls
and viewed the battlements and their defenders (for they two were of
different nationalities); thus he would determine how the capital could
be taken. John was indignant at this command, for he had only recently
adopted monastic garb and he knew he would be laughed at by the soldiers
on the walls and ramparts if he came near them in such a dress. And that
is just what did happen, for when he followed Alexios under compulsion,
they immediately spotted him from the walls and sneered at ‘The Abbot’
with certain ribald epithets. John scowled, and although inwardly he felt
the insults, he made light of it and devoted all his attention to the task in
hand. That is the way with men of strong character: they stand by their
decisions, heedless of outside circumstances.78
From the three protagonists that were wearing a monastic garb, namely
Dalassene, Maria of Alania and John Doukas, only Caesar is mentioned
in that sense. Anna’s silences about the change that happened in her pro-
tagonist’s lifes, are politically colored, since monasticism, in the discursive
register of the highest members of the Byzantine elite was considered a
mark of political failure. Caesar John’s situation was precisely an example of
his misadventure, when he tried to usurp the imperial right of his nephew
emperor Michael VII, but his attempt did not ensure necessary support, so
he forestalled the emperor’s possible reprisal by taking a monastic garb.
We would not have been able to discern what Anna’s message was when
she stressed Caesar’s reluctance due to his monastic garb, had not there
been precise timeframe when all this was happening. The final phase of
the rebellion, as we read from the following passages, was ending during
the most sacred orthodox week, in the week of the Passion of Christ. As I
have already stressed, this episode brings forth the controversial side of
Komnenian apostasia, wherefore her description of Caesar John as being
reluctant to proceed in these operations, fits in the frame of her ploy with
blame and praise. Thus, the Caesar became the only character in this story
78 Alexiad, p. 95; Alexias, II 9,3 (15.20), p. 78: ‘Ὁ δὲ βαρέως ἔφερεν, ἅτε τὸ μοναχικὸν οὔπω πρῴην
περιβεβλημένος ἄμφιον καὶ συνεὶς ὅτι καταγελῷτο ἂν ὑπὸ περὶ τὸ τεῖχος ἱσταμένων καὶ τὰς ἐπάλξεις,
εἰ οὕτως τὸν πλησιασμὸν τῶν τειχῶν ἀνεδύετο. Ὅπερ καὶ πέπονθεν. Ὡς γὰρ βιασθεὶς τῷ Ἀλεξίῳ
συνηκολούθηκεν, εὐθὺς αὐτὸν ἀπὸ τῶν τειχῶν ἑωρακότες τὸν ἀββᾶν μετά τινος προσθήκης ὑβριστικῆς
διετώθαζον. ὁ δὲ ἐπσυνάξας τὸ ἐπισκύνιον καὶ ἔνδοθεν ὑβριζόμενος παρουδὲν ἐλογίζετο, πρὸς δὲ τὸν
προκείμενου σκοπὸν ὅλον εἶχε τὸν νοῦν. εἰώθασι γὰρ οἱ φρόνημα στάσιμον ἔχοντες ἐμμένειν ἐφ’οἷς ἂν
κρίνωσι, τῶν δ’ἔξωθεν ἐπισυμβαινόντων καταφρονεῖν’.
that showed some restraint. His monastic garb lies in direct opposition to
the sacredness of the day in which the Constantinople was taken.
In case of the Caesar, Anna’s literary style shows remarkable immutability.
When it was necessary to extol his dominant role in Alexios’ ascendancy,
Anna did not lack rhetorical tools to enhance it. Moreover, vice versa, when
Caesar’s role in the politically problematic events, such as apostasia, forceful
seisure of the Capital and concomitant slaughter of the citisens, was sup-
posed to be diminished, she stressed his unawareness and hesitation. Even
more important than the focus on Caesar’s unwillingness is that in both
cases this was presented in relation to Alexios agency. Thus, a flavour of
blame seasoned Alexios’ character, who in contrast to Caesar’s reluctance,
acted first and provoked the events that were susceptible to censure.
If we read all these embedded allusions through lenses of Psellos’ presenta-
tion of the story on parakoimomenos Basil than we read following – Alexios
owed his success to Caesar John. Because of the power and influence of the
Doukai, Alexios was chosen before his brother Isaac, and that, solely thanks
to Caesar’s vigorous dexterity. Alexios succeeded in taking the Capital only
because he listened to Caesar’s advice. As we have already stressed, he
accepted John Doukas’ words ‘as the God’s voice’ (Πείθεται τοίνυν τὸ ἐντεῦθεν
Ἀλέξιος τοῖς τοῦ καίσαρος λόγοις ὥσπερ ἐκ θείας ὀμφῆς τούτους δεξάμενος).79
That advice was related to peaceful surrender of one garrison that protected
the walls.80 This was the first phase of Caesar’s relation to the Komnenians.
The message is clear. What comes next is even more interesting, especially
if we apply Psellos’ metonymy once again.
Caesar in the struggle between the Doukai and the Komnenoi

The third book of the Alexiad delivers the climax and resolution of the
story of Komnenian rebellion. These two parts of the narrative dynamics
are focused on the strife that bursted out after the Komnenoi had taken
the Capital. The struggle between the two most important aristocratic
houses connected through marriage alliance between Alexios Komnenos
and Eirene Doukaina, the Caesar’s granddaughter, was focused on two
main issues that will be discussed here – on the status of porphyrogennetos
Constantine Doukas, and on the controversial attitude of the Komnenoi
79 Alexias, II 9,5 (40.41), p. 79.

80 Alexias, II 9,4 (38.40), p. 79: ‘Τῶν δέ γε Νεμίτζων ἀποπειρώμενος ἴσως οὐ πόρρω βαλεῖ σκοποῦ,
ἀλλ’ εὐτυχήσει τὴν εἴσοδον ἀπὸ τοῦ ὑπ’ αὐτῶν τηρουμένου πύργου’. The story of the surrender of
the Nemitzoi garrison to the rebels is present in later histories, namely those of John Zonaras
and Michael Glykas. Yet, in these two accounts we do not encounter the role of the Doukai at
all. – cf. Zonaras, XVIII 19, 20 (9), p. 727-728; Mich. Glyc, IV (9.12), p. 618.
towards Eirene’s Doukaina’s coronation. Thus, we face a sudden and clear

shift in relations between the Doukai and the Komnenoi that, from being
closest allies, turned to be greatest foes. In the presentation of this struggle,
Anna’s bias is clearly on the side of her mother’s family. The leader of the
oikos, Caesar John Doukas was the person who engaged in this complicated
political matter to achieve fulfillment of the agreement that was on the verge
of breaking. As in the case of emperor Basil II, we read about an unjustified
hatred toward the meritorious adviser and accomplice, in case of which the
authoress’ blame was directed towards Komnenoi, namely Anna Dalassene,
and indirectly towards Alexios Komnenos.
The issue of Maria of Alania and Constantine’s inheritance

The Caesar had used his power and influence to remove Maria of Alania and
porphyrogennetos Constantine from the Great Palace. This was a significant
political move. By doing this, he had achieved to claim the imperial position
for his granddaughter. It seems that after several decades John Doukas had
finally succeeded in overpowering the imperial branch of his family, the
one of his brother Constantine X Doukas. In this episode, Anna’s awareness
of the Caesar’s double-dealing comes to the fore. On the one hand, there
is Anna’s tendency to present the Caesar as the leader of both branches of
the Doukai, but on the other hand, his partiality was reserved for Eirene
Doukaina. It is important to stress Anna’s literary style in this narrative
unit, since for her own agenda, both branches were equally important. She
was connected to porphyrogennetos Constantine Doukas, so she sought to
balance the role of her protagonist in this complex political game.
Speaking of the Caesar’s role in favour of Maria of Alania, Anna de-
ploys an interesting syntagma, ‘Patroclus excuse’ (Πάτροκλον πρόφασιν
ταῦτ’ἐσχηκως),81 that alluded to predesigned action. It meant that there
existed an end before the action was undertaken, or that the reasons for
a specific undertaking were insufficient or unjustified. This syntagm was
used two more times in the Alexiad with evidently negative meaning.82
Nevertheless, speaking of Caesar’s actions in relation to Maria of Alania,
Anna delivers the following explanation:
81 Alexias, III 2,3 (14.15), p. 90.

82 Robert Gusicard used the spurious Michael for launching a war against Byzantium only
as an excuse (καὶ Πάτροκλον πρόφασιν τὸν Μιχαὴλ εὑρηκὼς), trying to cover his lust for power
(φιλαρχία). This syntagma was used in the same context in the Book X where Anna explains
that the Cumans had planned in advance their attack on the Byzantine army, yet they lacked a
reason for that, which they, subsequently found in the false Leo Diogenes (Πάτροκλον εὑρηκότες
τοῦτον πρόφασιν […] ὡς δῆθεν τῷ πατρῴῳ τοῦτον ἐγκαθιδρύσι θρόνῳ).
The Caesar John Doukas had his own ideas. He wanted to expedite the
Empress Maria’s departure and drive her from the palace, in order to free
the public from their unjustified suspicions. He proceeded therefore to
win over the Patriarch Kosmas by all means. He demanded that he should
support their cause and absolutely refuse to listen to Maria’s arguments;
next he cleverly suggested to her that she should ask the emperor for a
written guarantee of safety on her own behalf and for the sake of the child,
and then withdraw. It was a Patroclus-like scheme, for he had already
secured a hold over her when the Emperor Michael Doukas had resigned
the throne: he had advised Michael’s successor, Nicephorus Botaneiates,
to take the lady in marriage, because she was of foreign birth and had no
crowd of relatives to embarrass the emperor. He spoke to him at length of
her noble birth and physical attractions; again and again he praised her.83
The Caesar’s action in relation to Maria of Alania was conducted with regard
to the problem of the coronation and, hitherto, official recognition of Eirene
Doukaina. This passage is embedded in the story of the alleged relationship
between Maria of Alania and Alexios Komnenos. The Caesar wanted to free
the empress from suspicions (ἀπελάσαι ὑποψίας τὲ πολλοὺς ἀπαλλάξαι ψευδοῦς).
What we deduce from the whole passage is that Caesar’s expediency was pro-
voked by these rumors that were, probably, without grounds. Anna’s sequence
of narrative unites precisely starts with the whisper on this relationship, and
afterwards, we read about Caesar’s actions to remove Maria of Alania from
Alexios Komnenos, and to achieve his granddaughter be proclaimed augousta.
The Caesar’s activity towards Maria of Alania is presented as inner familial
cause that was resolved solely for the reasons of releasing the empress from
the suspicion. Although this might appear as just another blatant excuse of
our authoress in the name of her great grandfather, she upholds the picture
of him as the guardian of the whole Doukai oikos until the resolution of the
whole conflict:
83 Alexiad, p. 106-107; Alexias, III 2,3 (7.20), p. 90-91: ‘ὁ δὲ καίσαρ Ἰωάννης ὁ Δούκας βουλόμενος
τάχιον τὴν βασιλίδα Μαρίαν ἀποσκευάσασθαι καὶ τῶν βασιλείων ἀπελάσαι ὑποψίας τὲ πολλοὺς
ἀπαλλάξαι ψευδοῦς ἔνθεν μὲν τὸν πατριάρχην Κοσμᾶν παντοίως ὑπεποιεῖτο ἀξιῶντὰ ὑπὲρ αὐτῶν
φρονεῖν καὶ τοῖς λόγοις τῆς τῶν Κομνηνῶν μητρὸς μηδαμῶς ὑπείκειν, ἐκεῖθεν δὲ τῇ βασιλίδι Μαρίᾳ
νουνεχῶς ὑπετίθετο ἔγγραφόν τι τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος ἐξαιτησαμένην αὐτῆς τὴ χάριν καὶ τῆς τοῦ παιδὸς
ἀσφαλείας οὕτως ἐκεῖθεν ὑποχωρῆσαι, Πάτροκλον πρόφασιν ταῦτ’ἐσχηκώς· ἔφθασε γὰρ ἀντιλαβέσθαι
ταύτης, ὁπηνίκα ὁ βασιλεὺς Μιχαὴλ ὁ Δούκας τῆς βασιλείας ἐξέστη, καὶ τῷ μετ’ αὐτὸν βεβασιλευκότι
Νικηφόρῳ τῷ Βοτανειάτῃ συμβουλεύσασθαι συναφθῆναι ταύτῃ πρὸς γάμου κοινωνίαν, ὅτι τὲ ἐξ
ἀλλοδαπῆς ἐστὶ καὶ συγγενῶν ὄχλος οὐ προσῆν αὐτῇ, δι’ ὧν ὁ βασιλεὺς ὀχλοῖτο, περί τε τοῦ γένους
καὶ τῆς τοῦ σώματος ὥρας ἀπαγγέλλων πολλὰ καὶ πολλάκις ἐπαινῶν αὐτήν’.
Later, when Alexios Komnenos was proclaimed emperor, Maria on the

advice of the Caesar (ταῖς ὑποθημοσύναις πεισθεῖσα τοῦ καίσαρος) asked
for a written pledge, guaranteed in the letters of red and golden seal, not
only that she should be allowed to live in security with her son, but that
he should be co-ruler with Alexios, with the right to wear the purple
sandals and a crown and the right to be acclaimed as emperor with him.84
Anna emphasised the Caesar’s care for both issues, namely the indemnity
for Constantine Doukas’ from losing his imperial inheritance and for the
endorsement of Eirene’s Doukaina imperial status, placing them on the
same level of importance.
In case of Maria of Alania, although the passage quoted is imprecise
concerning the Caesar’s action – whether undertaken at first in relation to
Botaneiates or Alexios – it is important that we have his role mentioned
twice.85 He acted as Maria’s advisor, from the withdrawal of Michael VII
Doukas, which perfectly fits in the discourse of Caesar’s branch – he only
acted in order to defend his brother’s legacy. This discourse was constructed
in the sources preceding the Alexiad. In Anna Komnene’s case, it achieved
its heyday, in the terms of the Doukai’s imperial legitimacy and legacy,
political preponderance in relation to the Komnenoi, and their crucial role
in Komnenian, that is, Alexios’ ascendance to the imperial throne. Without
the Doukai, or to be more precise, without the Caesar John Doukas, nothing
of this could have been achieved. Hitherto, his success is double, since, by
Anna Komnene’s testimony, he did not hinder his brother’s descendants
from inheriting the throne. He was indeed a powerful and irresistible figure.
Anna’s description of her forefather was devoted to this statement. However,
how did Alexios repay his dept to Caesar John?
84 Alexiad, p. 113; Alexias, III 4,6 (19.25), p. 97: ‘μετὰ δὲ τὴν τοῦ Κομνηνοῦ Ἀλεξίου ἀνάρρησιν
ἡ βασιλὶς Μαρία καὶ μήτηρ ἐκείνου ταῖς ὑποθημοσύναις πεισθεῖσα τοῦ καίσαρος ἔγγραφον πίστιν
ᾐτήσατο δι’ ἐρυθρῶν βεβαιωθησομένην γραμμάτων καὶ σφραγίδος χρυσῆς παρὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος,
ὥστε μὴ μόνον ἀσινὴς σὺν τῷ υἱῷ διατηρηθῆναι, ἀλλὰ καὶ συμβασιλεύειν αὐτῷ κἀκεῖνον τά τε ἐρυθρὰ
ὑποδιδυσκόμενον καὶ στεφηφοροῦντα καὶ ὡς βασιλέα σὺν αὐτῷ ἀναγορευόμενον’.
85 It was the aforementioned Caesar’s initiative to thwart the tongues of suspicion – ἐκεῖθεν δὲ
τῇ βασιλίδι Μαρίᾳ νουνεχῶς ὑπετίθετο ἔγγραφόν τι τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος ἐξαιτησαμένην αὐτῆς τε χάριν
καὶ τῆς τοῦ παιδὸς ἀσφαλείας – Alexias, III 2,3 (12.14), p. 90; and when it was finally decided that
Maria and her son would leave the Palace – πεισθεῖσα τοῦ καίσαρος ἔγγραφον πίστιν ᾐτήσατο δι’
ἐρυθρῶν βεβαιωθησομένην γραμμάτων καὶ σφραγῖδος χρυσῆς παρὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος, ὥστε μὴ μόνον
ἀσινὴς σὺν τῷ υἱῷ διατηρηθῆναι, ἀλλὰ καὶ συμβασιλεύειν αὐτῷ κἀκεῖνον τά τε ἐρυθρὰ ὑποδιδυσκόμενον
καὶ στεφηφοροῦντα καὶ ὡς βασιλέα σὺν αὐτῷ ἀναγορευόμενον – Alexias, III 4,6 (21.23), p. 97.
The issue of Eirene’s coronation
The thought that the empress was still not considered worthy of the
imperial throne frightened the Doukas family more than ever; however,
they insisted that the Empress Irene should be crowned.86
A controversy that emerged concerning Eirene Doukaina’s proclamation

and coronation presents the other crucial theme of the Book III. From the
side of the Doukai, the main protagonist is Caesar John Doukas to whom
the leader of the Komnenian house, Anna Dalassene, is opposed. Actually,
the whole plot opens up with the unjustified ‘wrath’ (κατ’αὐτῶν μῆνιν) of
Dalassene towards the Doukai. In relation to the alleged closeness between
Maria of Alania and Alexios Komnenos, Anna delivers an ambiguous excuse:
As I have said, many people were suspicious when the empress stayed
on there and they suggested in an underhand way that the new emperor
intended to marry her. The Doukas family believed no such thing (they
were not carried away by chance rumours) but they knew that the
mother of the Komnenoi had for a long time been undisguisedly hostile
to themselves (τῆς μητρὸς τῶν Κομνηνῶν ἀπροφάσιστον κατ’ αὐτῶν μῆνιν).
Their suspicions made them fearful, as I myself have often heard them
say (ἐκ μακροῦ γινώσκοντες περιδεεῖς ἦσαν ὑποπτεύοντες αὐτήν, ὡς κἀγὼ
πολλάκις διηγουμένων ἀκήκοα).87
The reason for the whole conflict was transferred to Anna Dalassene. The
audience is not provided with any other information except that the wrath
lasted long, and that the agent in this story is Dalassene. Her wrath is the
reason of the whole conflict, as Komnene suggested. It is very peculiar that
Anna used precisely the word μῆνις in description of the conflict between
the two families. This word unequivocally alludes to the main driving
force of the first books of the Iliad – the wrath of Achilles. The wrath of
the main hero of the Iliad is the motive of the opening lines of the epos. It
denoted a conflict between him and king Agamemnon, which, because of
86 Alexiad, p. 108.
87 Alexiad, p. 105; Alexias, III 2,1 (74.78), p. 89: ‘πολλοὶ μὲν οὖν, ὡς ἄνωθεν εἴρηται, τὴν τῆς βασιλίδος
περὶ τὰ βασίλεια καρτερίαν ὑποπτεύοντες ὑπετονθόρυζον, ὡς εἰς κῆδος ταύτην ἀγαγέσθαι μέλλει ὁ νῦν
τῆς βασιλείας ἐπιδραξάμενος. οἱ δὲ Δοῦκαι οὐδὲν μέν τι τοιοῦτον ἐνενόουν (οὐ γὰρ συνεφέροντο ταῖς
τυχούσαις ἐννοίαις), ἀλλὰ τὴν τῆς μητρὸς τῶν Κομνηνῶν ἀπροφάσιστον κατ’ αὐτῶν μῆνιν ἐκ μακροῦ
γινώσκοντες περιδεεῖς ἦσαν ὑποπτεύοντες αὐτήν, ὡς κἀγὼ πολλάκις διηγουμένων ἀκήκοα’.
the Achilles’ stubbornness and unwillingness to forgive the disgrace inflicted

by Agamemnon, brought so many sufferings to the Acheians.
This word μῆνις was used in the Alexiad seldom. When it was deployed
by the authoress it was usually in the cases where she dwelt on the open
and irreconcilable enmities. Thus, the word ‘wrath’ presents a negative
emotion that sets characters in motion against someone. The two slaves
of the emperor Botaneiates’, Borilos and Germanos, were driven by the
wrath against the Komnenian brothers (τῶν μῆνιν τῶν δούλων), which was,
again, caused by their envy (τὸν φθόνον).88 In addition, Alexios’ archenemy
Bohemond was driven against Alexios by his wrath (ὁ Βαιμοῦντος ὡς παλαιὰν
μῆνιν κατὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος τρέφων)89. The Crusaders would not have fol-
lowed Bohemond in his design had not there already been deep indignation
from their side – ‘These barbarians had ancient hatred for our race and
he fostered it’ (τὴν ἀνέκαθεν τῶν βαρβάρων τούτων μῆνιν κατὰ τοῦ ἡμεδαποῦ
γένους άνερεθίσας).90
It is highly probable that Anna tentatively used this specific word that
was imbued with such powerful symbolic. For Byzantine readers, the word
μῆνις resounded with an echo of the vigorous conflict of the two prominent
Homeric heroes. They were supposed to be working for the same cause.
However, their personal conflict had divided them and generated huge losses
for their common end. Such reading of the conflict between the Komnenoi
and the Doukai fits perfectly Anna’s agenda. Moreover, her positioning with
regard to this conflict is most interesting – she accused her grandmother
as the progenitor of the conflict, although other sources testify that situ-
ation was quite contrary. Bryennios’ history delivers a detailed account
of the rivalry between the Komnenoi and the Doukai, which ended with
Dalassene’s banishment to the island of Prinkipo.91 She was soon restored
to imperial favour by Michael VII Doukas, but it seems that the actual
person behind this was precisely Caesar John Doukas.92 In Anna’s history
the situation is reversed. The motive that opens the story of the conflict is
Dalassene’s wrath, hence, she is denoted as the culprit. This agenda alludes
heavily to the Doukai, and Eirene Doukaina’s personal discourse. Anna
even helps in such deduction by stating that she herself ‘have often heard
88 Alexias, II 4,6 (59), p. 63.

89 Alexias, X 5,10 (83), p. 299; and once more in the same book – ὁ Βαιμοῦντος παλαιὰν μῆνιν
κατὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος τρέφοντες – Alexias, X 9,1 (14), p. 309.
90 Alexiad, p. 390; Alexias, XII 8,5 (87.88), p. 379.
92 Even Gautier suspected that behind the accusation of Dalassene stood Michael Psellos,
which was, again, closest with the Caesar John.
them say’ such things. She positions herself on the side of the Doukai and
does not deliver (or try at all) any vindication of her grandmother’s wrath.
The discourse of this story is the paradigmatic trait that shows how Anna’s
literary style functioned, especially in those moments when she needed
to counter two protagonists she held in high favour. When she juxtaposed
her grandmother Anna Dalassene and Caesar John Doukas, her preference
prevailed to her great grandfather’s side. This was part of the wider scope
of Anna’s agenda genuinely in favour of the Doukai.
The issue of Eirene Doukaina’s coronation was focused on the strug-
gle between Dalassene and Caesar on the question of who would be the
patriarch – the current, Kosmas, who was John Doukas’ trustee, or the
new one, Eustratios Garidas, Dalassene’s choice.93 Finally, it was resolved
that the Kosmas will step away from the patriarchal throne in favour of
Eustratios Garidas, only after he crowns Eirene Doukaina.94
It is rather peculiar that the story of the conflict between the Doukai
and the Komnenoi had left Alexios out as an acting character, focusing the
open blame towards Dalassene. Nevertheless, Anna did not refrain from
caustic observation:
The reigning high priest [Kosmas], she [Dalassene] alleged, was of a simple
nature, not a man of action, and she persuaded certain persons to put in
his mind the idea of retirement; they were to advise this because, forsooth,
it was in his own best interests. But the holy man was not deceived by
this pretext. […] he said, ‘By Kosmas, if Irene is not crowned by my own
hands, I will never resign the patriarchal throne’. They returned to their
‘sovereign’(τῇ δεσποίνῃ) and told her what had been said (by now they
all addressed her by that name, because the emperor, who loved his
mother, wished her to be so named). So, on the seventh day after the
public proclamation of Alexios’ accession, his wife Irene was crowned
by the Patriarch Kosmas.95
In this ploy with Dalassene’s naming and Anna’s explication of that peculiar-
ity, is situated the embedded criticism of our author, namely that Alexios
had in advance designated his mother as his female imperial counterpart.
93 Alexias, III 2,6-7, p. 92-93.

94 Alexias, III 2,7 (78.80), p. 92-93.
95 Alexiad, p. 109; Alexias, III 2,7 (80.84), p. 93 ‘οἱ δὲ ἐπαναστρέψαντες ἀπαγγέλλουσι τῇ δεσποίνῃ
τὰ μηνυθέντα· ἔφθασαν γὰρ ἤδη οὕτω ταύτην καλεῖν ἅπαντες τοῦ φιλομήτορος βασιλέως τοῦτο
βουλομένου. ἑβδομαία τοίνυν μετὰ τὴν Ἀλεξίου ἀνάρρησιν καὶ ἡ αὐτοῦ ὁμευνέτις Εἰρήνη διὰ τοῦ
πατριάρχου Κοσμᾶ ἀξιοῦται τοῦ στέφους’.
The title despoina, Anna explains, was ascribed to her by Alexios’ own
wish, only because he was a mother-loving emperor (φιλομήτορος βασιλέως).
Nevertheless, this was rather sarcastic use of the epithet, by which Anna had
clearly accused her father for being on the side of his mother against his wife.
In the passages where Anna deals with the issue of Eirene’s public ac-
clamation that would, subsequently grant her the right to be called augousta,
placing this interesting sentence about Dalassene’s imperial status should
not be considered coincidental at all. Quite conversely, it was a powerful
portent of the status, which Eirene Doukaina was supposed to have inside
the Komnenian oikos. Anna’s attitude toward Dalassene’s choice for the
patriarchal throne is ambiguous:
It happened that a monk called Eustratios and surnamed Garidas had

his dwelling near the great church of God and derived there from a false
reputation for virtue.96
The picture of the divided Doukai house, between the two branches, is to
some extent blurred in Anna’s text. In the places where Anna refers to the
Doukai’s agency, we see mainly the agency of the Caesar John Doukas. The
unification of the Doukai’s house that the authoress tended to present was
conducted under the vigorous personality of Caesar John Doukas. The both
issues of the Doukai’s were under his duty, and were resolved successfully
only thanks to him.
Under the Caesar’s command, authority and power, according to Anna,
three crucial political resolutions were conducted:
1 The imperial legacy of the Doukai was preserved and endorsed through
written oath of Alexios Komnenos;
2 Eirene Doukaina became the augousta, and thus, the second branch
of the Doukai was finally raised to the imperial rank;
3 Finally, and crucially, Komnenian apostasia turned into legal rule, and
Alexios Komnenos was proclaimed emperor.
And how was he rewarded for his enormous support? Just like parakoi-
momenos Basil by Emperor Basil II. The Caesar was exposed to Dalassene’s
wrath. In what manner was Alexios supposed to thank the Doukai’s for their
support? That was maybe the question that never found its direct answer.
96 Alexiad, p. 108; Alexias, III 2,7 (67.69), p. 92: ‘ἔτυχε δέ τις μοναχὸς Εὐστράτιος τὴν κλῆσιν,
Γαριδᾶς τὴν ἐπωνυμίαν, τὰς οἰκήσεις ἀγχοῦ τῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ μεγάλης ἐκκλησίας ποιούμενος καὶ ἀρετὴν
δῆθεν ὑποκρινόμενος’.
Nevertheless, the discourse of the Alexiad suggests that the founder of the
Komnenian dynasty remained indebted to the Doukai, and above all to the
Caesar John and his branch.
George Palaiologos
In the Doukai oikos

George Palaiologos was married to Anna Doukaina, sister of Eirene Doukaina.
Therefore, as a son-in-law of the influential Maria of Bulgaria, and a brother-
in-law of the future augousta, George represented one of the leading figures of
the Doukai’s house. We encounter him in that role already in the book II of the
Aleixad, where he enters the scene amid the Komnenian apostasia. Palaiologos
was one of the first prominent figures whom the Komnenoi wanted to win
over for their cause. However, things did not go so easy for the brothers, since
George Palaiologos did not want to partake in the rebellion at first:
At first Palaiologus was not amenable; he produced many objections and

rebuked them for disloyalty; and told them that, on second thoughts, they
would change their minds and call on the emperor for help.97
This hesitation was overcome by the influence of Palaiologos’ mother-

in-law: ‘However, when the protovestiaria […] insisted vehemently that
he must go with them and even added the most awful threats, he agreed
to do so’.98
This kind of literary presentation is threefold. Firstly, it abates George’s
incentive and, as in the case of Caesar John Doukas, relieves him from the
guilt about raising apostasia against the legitimate emperor. Secondly,
especially important is the gender element of this story, since Palaiologos was
eventually persuaded by Maria of Bulgaria, where the role of the influential
women again comes to the fore. Thirdly, Palaiologos’ action was bound solely
to the Doukai’s house. In the following chapters, his action was precisely
devoted to the cause of Eirene Doukaina.
It is rather interesting that Palaiologos was vacillating mainly because his
father was close to the emperor Botaneiates.99 Quite comprehensible reason
that was given for George’s hesitation abruptly proved to be insufficient
97 Alexiad, p. 86.
98 Alexiad, p. 86.
99 Alexias, II 6,2 (36.37), p. 69: ‘ἦν γὰρ ὁ πατὴρ τοῦ Γεωργίου τουτουῒ τῷ βασιλεῖ εὐνούστατος ἐς
τὰ μάλιστα’.
before Maria of Bulgaria’s persuasiveness. Thus, Palaiologos had shown

his allegiance to the Doukai, against his father. His concern for the female
members of the Doukai oikos, namely for his wife and his mother-in-law,100
gave him ample reason for his ultimate siding with the Komnenoi in their
apostasia. Nevertheless, it is utterly important that he supported them
as a member of the Doukai oikos. His role in this sense was essential. As
we read from the Alexiad, George was not a representative of his father’s
house, Palaiologoi, but to that of his wife’s. Anna’s favoritism of her kin is
due to his close connection with the empress Eirene Doukaina. That made
him, I argue, a key protagonist in Alexios’ war deeds story. On the meeting
in Schisa, we encounter George Palaiologos among the members of the
Doukai.101 This was, according to our authoress, the main reason why he
supported the Komnenoi.
George in the rebellion

George Palaiologos’ unwilling participation in the apostasia corresponds
with the discourse created in the Alexiad – the Doukai were not initiators of
the apostasia, they were just partakers, and, subsequently crucial supporters.
According to the same discursive pattern deployed in the case of Caesar
John, we face a shift in cautious Palaiologos and suddenly he is present in
the family meetings on the question of Alexios’ acclamation. He had turned
from passive and hesitant character to the leading protagonist in the final
phase of the rebellion: ‘George Palaiologos most willingly undertook this
mission to Gilpractus – he was never reluctant to engage in warlike activities
and the sacking of the cities’.102
The role of George Palaiologos is prominent in the story of the seisure of
the Constantinopolitan walls.103 Anna presents him with laudable epithet
‘smiter of walls’, just as ‘Homer called Achilles’ (πρόθυμος ὢν ἀνὴρ ἐς πολεμικὰς
πράξεις καὶ πόλεων ἐκπορθήσεις, καὶ τοῦτ’ αὐτὸ τειχεσιπλήτης αὐτόχρημα εἶπες
100 Alexias, II 6,3 (44.45), p. 69: ‘Φροντίζει δὲ τὸ ἐντεῦθεν περὶ τῶν γυναικῶν, τῆς τε αὐτοῦ γαμετῆς
Ἄννης καὶ Μαρίας τῆς πενθερᾶς αὐτοῦ’.
101 Alexias, II 7,1 (42.50), p. 71-73: ‘Παρῆσαν δὲ τότε καὶ οἱ ἐξ ἀγχιστείας τῷ Ἀλεξίῳ προσήκοντες,
ὁ ἄνωθεν μνημονευθεὶς καῖσαρ Ἰωάννης ὁ Δούκας, ἀνὴρ καὶ βουλεύσασθαι ἱκανὸς καὶ καταπράξασθαι
περιδέξιος, ὃν κἀγὼ ἐπ’ ὀλίγον φθάσασα τεθέαμαι, καὶ Μιχαὴλ καὶ Ἰωάννης οἱ τούτου ἔγγονοι, ναὶ μὴν
καὶ ὁ τούτων ἐπ’ ἀδελφῇ γαμβρὸς Γεώργιος ὁ Παλαιολόγος, συμπαρόντες αὐτοῖς καὶ ἀγωνιῶντες καὶ
τὰς ἁπάντων πρὸς τὸ αὐτοῖς βουλητὸν διαστρέφοντες γνώμας καὶ πάντα κάλων, ὅ φασι, κινοῦντες καὶ
πᾶσαν μηχανὴν εὐφυῶς τεχναζόμενοι, ὥστε τὸν Ἀλέξιον ἀναρρηθῆναι’.
102 Alexiad, p. 97.
103 It is an episode with Gilpraktos, the leader of the mercenaries, with whom he had arranged
surrender of the tower beforehand. – Alexias, II 10,2 (70.79), p. 80.
ἄν, ὃ περὶ Ἄρεως Ὅμηρος.).104 He was crucial for the support of the navy and
acclamation of Alexios:
Palaiologos, after a brief voyage, resumed his sword and buckler and
moored the ship in the fleet’s anchorage. There he made public acclama-
tion of Alexios (Εὐθὺς οὖν τῆς εὐφημίας ὁ Παλαιολόγος ἐξῆρχε καὶ σὺν
αὐτῷ οἱ ἐρέται). Meeting Botaneiates’ messenger (sent to seise the fleet
and transport Melissenus to the palace) he arrested him without delay
and ordered the sailors to loose the stern-cables. Thus he sailed with the
fleet and arrived at the Acropolis, with loud cheers for the new emperor
(Ἀποπλεύσας οὖν ἐκεῖθεν σύναμα τῷ στόλῳ καταλαμβάνει τὴν ἀκρόπολιν
τὴν εὐφημίαν λαμπρὰν ποιούμενος.).105
A whole chapter is dedicated to the story of George’s seisure of the navy,

and, consequently, to the conflict with his father, who remained faithful to
the emperor Botaneiates. The story of the discord between father and son is
actually a story about political allegiances. In relation to this, Anna was clear:
Here it was different: battle and war, father and son on opposite sides.
Each was aware of the other’s loyalties, though intentions had not yet
been translated into action.106
The conflict between the Doukai and the Komnenoi

After the successful end of the rebellion delivered in the second book in the
story of Botaneiates withdrawal from the throne,107 we encounter Palaiologos
as the crucial figure again in the third book. He is presented as a character
that fought exclusively for Eirene Doukaina’s imperial right. One of the
main themes of the III book is George’s great diligence in assuring Eirene’s
acclamation. At first, there were soldiers from the walls that hesitated to
acclaim Eirene together with Alexios:
Thus, when George Palaiologos arrived with the fleet and began the
acclamation, the party of the Komnenoi, leaning over the ramparts, tried
to silence him from above, bidding him not to link the names of Eirene
104 Alexias, II 10,2 (78.79), p. 80.

105 Alexiad, p. 99; Alexias, II 11,4-5 (54.55; 62.63), p. 83.
107 Alexias, II 12,6 (57.58), p. 86: ‘Ὁ δὲ εἰς τὸν μέγαν τοῦ Θεοῦ νεὼν τῆς τοῦ Θεοῦ σοφίας εἰσελθὼν
ἐγκαρτερῶν τέως ἦν ἐν αὐτῷ’.
and Alexios in a common acclamation (μὴ τὴν Εἰρήνην τῷ Ἀλεξίῳ κἀν τῇ

εὐφημίᾳ συνάψαντας κοινῶς εὐφημεῖν).108
On hearing this, George admonished them urgently with the following

words, concurrently explaining the main reason for his own partaking:
It was not for your sakes’, he cried, ‘that I won so great a victory, but
because of the Irene you speak of. (Ὁ δ’ ἐμβριμησάμενος κάτωθεν αὐτοῖς
φησιν “οὐ δι’ ὑμᾶς τὸν τοσοῦτον ἀγῶνα ἀνεδυσάμην αὐτός, ἀλλὰ δι’ ἥν φατε
Εἰρήνην”).109
The presentation of this narrative unit in this manner had positioned George
next to Eirene Doukaina, as her main partisan. Caesar John Doukas was
leader of the whole house, and acted in order to ensure both branches of
his family, whereas Palaiologos was strictly bound to Eirene and female
members of his house. However, Palaiologos’ role in Alexios’ life story did
not end with Eirene’s acclamation. He presents one of the main heroes of
this epic saga, and many stories were recounted with the focus on his agency.
Alexios’ war comrade

After Alexios’ ascendancy, we encounter Palaiologos in a position of principal
command, as Alexios’ closest army comrade. George’s role in Alexios’ reign
is historically indisputable, which relates to our difficulties in detecting
‘Anna’s own hand’. The hypothesis of the existence of Palaiologos’ memoirs
can further support the thesis of Anna’s storytelling from his perspective.110
Nevertheless, Anna’s hypothetical use of this source would not necessarily
produce the unanimous positive attitude toward him. I argue that Anna
had made her own choice of the source material she would use, and the
precedence was given to Palaiologos’ perspective. If we speak in terms of
modern narratology, then Palaiologos would be the focaliser of the narrated
stories. This presents a phenomenon of its kind, namely in the sense that it
shows the author’s own choice for the perspective of the narration. It also
pertains to the phenomenon of heroes, the figures that are bestowed with
specific qualities and virtues, who show their excellence through their
deeds, through chreia praktike, which corresponds to the main elements
108 Alexiad, p. 105; Alexias, III 2,1(80.81), p. 89.

109 Alexiad, p. 106; Alexias, III 2,1 (82.83), p. 89.
110 Neville, 2012, p. 47-48.
of metonymical characterisation.111 In this category we also encounter

a ‘membership to a specific group’, be it on macro- or micro-social level,
through appearance, or through the speech, through chreia logike (an
anecdote relating a person’s words).112 All these rhetorical elements serve
for construction of a hero, and the readers were perfectly aware of this.
Through several mentioned categories, the authoress was transmitting
the message of her chosen hero, offering him as an example of the war
virtue. In the time when she was writing, war heroes were chosen from the
Komnenian pantheon, and not from the Doukai’s.
George against the Normans

George was entrusted with the role of the defender of Dyrrachium, against
the First Norman invasion, under Robert Guiscard. Although he was un-
doubtedly very young for such an important position, Anna attributes to him
a great experience in war: ‘George Palaiologos was a brave man, thoroughly
trained in the art of leadership; he had fought on a thousand battle-fields
in the east and proved victorious’.113 The fact that his father had served as
doux of Mesopotamia most probably gave Anna solid basis for amplification
of his war experience.114
The story of the Norman invasion is the main narrative theme of Alexios’
war deeds, and it is quite peculiar that the focus of narration is put on the
elaboration of Palaiologos’ role in these events. The aggravating circumstance
in the construction of a hero was the fact that Norman invasion was success-
ful for the enemies. In that kind of historical setting, Anna needed to extol
her cousin and she did that through various figures. She stressed his constant
watchfulness (περιπολεύων διὰ πάσης νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας ἐπαγρυπνεῖν)115 and
his bravery for confronting the enemy directly in man-to-man battle in
front of the Dyrrachium walls (ὁ Παλαιολόγος ἐξελθὼν καὶ αὐτὸς ἀπὸ τοῦ
111 De Temmerman, 2010, p. 33-34.

112 ‘The characterising potential of one’s membership of a specific group is apparent from a
number of external loci discussed in invention and epideictic theories. They can be subdivided
into three categories, each of which relates to membership of a particular group in society’ – De
Temmerman, 2010, p. 33.
113 Alexiad, p. 135; Alexias, IV 1,1 (11.14), p. 120: ‘Ὁ δέ γε Παλαιολόγος Γεώργιος γενναῖος ὢν ἀνὴρ
καὶ στρατηγικὴν πᾶσαν ἐξησκημένος, μυρίους δὲ πολέμους ἀγωνισάμενος περὶ τὴν ἕω καὶ νικητὴς
ἀναδειχθείς, ἀκατάπληκτος ὢν’. His father, Nicephoros Palaiologos was doux of Mesopotamia
– Bryennios, Histoire, III, 15-16 (11.14), p. 239. It is precisely this fact that gave Anna base for
amplification of Palaiologos.
114 Bryennios, Histoire, III, 15-16 (11.14), p. 239.
115 Alexias, IV 1,1 (18), p. 120; I would especially stress his ‘watchfulness’ as an important discursive
marker.
κάστρου Δυρραχίου μαχόμενος ἦν μετ’ αὐτῶν).116 The same picture repeats

several times with slight alterations that lead to the summit of George’s
military valour, expressed in the passages where he continues his fight
regardless of the wound in his temples.117 Palaiologos epic combat in front
of the Dyrrachium concludes with the setting on fire the siege tower built
by Guiscard to conduct the final operation of the conquest of the fort.118
Alexios’ appearance with the big army did not move the story away from
Palaiologos. Anna bestowed upon Palaiologos the command and advisory
role. Alexios turned to his advice whether to confront the enemy directly, and
acceded to his advice (τούτου δὲ πάντα αὐτῷ διασαφήσαντος ἠρώτα, εἰ χρὴ τὸν
μετ’ αὐτοῦ ἀποθαρρῆσαι πόλεμον. Ὁ δὲ πρὸς τοῦτον ἀνένευε τέως).119 Palaiologos
advice was supported by those that had ‘many years of experience in war’
(Ἀλλὰ καί τινες τῶν περὶ τὰ πολεμικὰ πεῖραν ἐκ μακροῦ χρόνου ἐσχηκότων).120
The importance of George in the introductory chapters on the Alexios’ war
campaigns lie precisely in the circumstance that he carried out the first
assaults on Robert Guiscard.
In the Pechenegs wars

In Book VII we encounter Palaiologos next to Alexios in the war operations
against Pechenegs. He is in the role of the adviser together with Gregory
Maurokatakalon. He was ‘for deferring the war with the Pechenegs’ and
advised ‘a military occupation of the great town of Peristhlaba’.121 Counter to
this, Diogenes’ two sons, Nikephoros and Leo, wanted to engage immediately
in the battle for ‘they were young men and for that reason had no experience
of the misery of war’.122 The authoress’ explanation for their dangerous
boldness – because they were young – does not correspond with Palaiologos,
116 Alexias, IV 2,5 (27.28), p. 124.

117 Alexias, IV 4,4 (31.40), p. 127: ‘Ὁ δὲ Παλαιολόγος Γεώργιος διὰ πάσης νυκτὸς καὶ ἡμέρας
πρὸς τὰς ἔξωθεν ἑλεπόλεις καὶ τὰ μηχανήματα ἀντικαθιστάμενος καὶ ἀπαγορεύσας ἤδη τὰς πύλας
ἀναπετάσας καὶ ἐξελθὼν μετ’ αὐτῶν καρτερὸν συνεστήσατο πόλεμον. Καὶ καιρίως ἐν διαφόροις τοῦ
σώματος τόποις ἐπλήγη καὶ μᾶλλον περὶ τὸν κρόταφον βέλους διελθόντος. Ὃ βιαζόμενος ἐξελεῖν καὶ
μὴ δυνηθεὶς μετακαλεσάμενός τινα τῶν ἐμπείρων περιεῖλε τὰ ἄκρα, τόν τε στύρακά φημι καὶ οὗ τὸ
βέλος πτερύσσεται, τὸ δ’ ἐπίλοιπον μέρος τῷ τόπῳ τῆς πληγῆς ἐναπέμεινε. Δεσμήσας δὲ τὴν κεφαλήν,
ὡς ὁ καιρὸς ἐνεδίδου, αὖθις ἐς μέσους τοὺς ἐναντίους ἑαυτὸν ὠθήσας μαχόμενος μέχρι δείλης ἑσπέρας
ἀκλόνητος ἵστατο’.
118 Alexias, IV 4,6-8, p. 127-128.
119 Alexias, IV 5,3 (9.10), p. 129.
120 Alexiad, p.144; Alexias, IV 5,3 (11), p. 130.
121 Alexiad, p. 223; Alexias, VII 3,4 (11.14), p. 210: ‘Ὁ μὲν οὖν Παλαιολόγος καὶ ὁ Μαυροκατακαλὼν
Γρηγόριος τὸν μετὰ τῶν Πατζινάκων ἀνεβάλλοντο πόλεμον, ὁπλισαμένους δὲ συνεβούλευον τὴν
μεγάλην Περισθλάβαν καταλαβεῖν’.
since she stressed in the same book earlier that he was ‘young and vigorous
officer’.123 In addition, Anna continued this story with the statement that
‘emperor himself loved to take risks and was naturally inclined to provoke
battle’. Such a trait would not be highly commendable for the emperor and
further Anna said that ‘he completely ignored the arguments for restraint’.124
Namely, Alexios decision ran counter to Palaiologos strategy against engaging
in an open battle. George’s opinion proved to be wiser, since the Romans
were defeated. Furthermore, the battle ends with an interesting episode
of Alexios, who ‘had been left behind with twenty horsemen’.125 Although
Anna delivers a praise of Alexios’ courage, he is openly reproached for his
boldness, as unsuitable for an emperor, after which ‘Alexios saw the danger
that now threatened him’ and retreated.
Palaiologos, on the other side, found himself in a rather perilous situation
while he was retreating from defeat. Anna describes his retreat in a whole
chapter and tells a story about miraculous appearance of Leo of Chalcedon
who ‘was dressed in his priestly robes and was offering him his own horse.
On that Palaiologos made his escape’.126 Although this curious appearance of
the Leo of Chalcedon might seem confusing, since the bishop was convicted
by the emperor Alexios, we encounter a somewhat different picture here.
Anna delivered an ambiguous view:
Leo was a man who spoke his mind, in very truth a leader of the Church,
but he was a rather simple-minded man and his enthusiasm was occasion-
ally based on insufficient knowledge; he had not even a profound grasp of
Holy Scripture. It was for that reason that the disgrace mentioned came
upon him and he was dethroned. Palaiologos always regarded him with
affection and continued to honour him greatly for his outstanding virtue.
Whether it was because passionate belief in this man that Palaiologos
was favoured with a divine visitation, or whether the apparition was in
some other way concerned with his archbishop and due to the mysterious
working of Providence, I cannot say.127
The apparition of Leo of Chalcedon in the episode with George Palaiologos

can hardly be a work of Providence. Leo was actually a member of the

Doukai’s party,128 and very close to Maria of Bulgaria, the mother of Eirene
Doukaina. He advocated for reinstitution of Kosmas on the patriarchal see
of Constantinople against Eustratios Garidas, the protege of Anna Dalas
sene.129 Anna Komnene is ambiguous when she speaks of Leo the Chalcedon,
similarly with the way she deals with John Italos. Both were important
figures close to the Doukai’s, and both were trialed and condemned in the
span of twelve years. The fact that they were found guilty for their activities
certainly influenced Anna’s restrained attitude toward them. Yet, Anna’s
praised him also, and the episode where he helps Palaiologos certainly
serves as a literary atonement for the priest’s defiance against the emperor.
This episode was completely irrelevant for the main theme. Nevertheless,
for Anna, there was certainly a strong reason to season the narrative with
this curious episode.
The VIII book delivers the climax of Alexios’ Pecheneg wars and describes
the victory in the battle of Lebounion (1091). At the very beginning the book
opens with the explanation that George did not take active role in Alexios
campaign against Pechenegs that came very near to Constantinople. Anna
delivers the following explanation:
The rapidity of this campaign caused a sensation. In one quarter, though,

it was unpopular: I hear that George Palaiologos (eye witness told us about
it) complained angrily and was annoyed with himself for being too late
to fight in the war; he would have liked to be with the emperor when he
won such glory with this unexpected triumph.130
It is very interesting that Anna mentioned George at all. Why was it necessary
to focus on this character when he was not present at all? Here it seems that
her interest laid precisely in Palaiologos’ agency. The audience would have
not (or it would?) inquired about Palaiologos whereabouts in this battle,
had not there been for the authoress’ unnecessary explanation. It looks as
if she was leading some kind of dialogue with an unknown reader precisely
on the theme of Palaiologos involvement in the recounted events.
Anna’s ‘literary choice’ conditioned George’s appearance in the events
where his actions were not relevant at all. Alexios’ triumph was told from
George’s perspective once again, who set out from Constantinople with
the troops, since he was ‘eager for military fame’ (θερμουργὸς ὢν περὶ τὰς
128 Scoulatos, 1980, p. 173.

129 For these circumstances, see Angold, 1995, p. 47 et sq.
πολεμικὰς πράξεις). And very soon he realised, because he ‘had far more
experience than anyone else and knew the emperor’s inventive genius’,
that the Scyths he saw were actually Alexios’ and his troops in disguise.
This literary overture, together with George’s discontent for not being
able to participate in operations was soon redeemed with the greatest
military victory in the battle of Lebounion, where George participated. He
was entrusted with the command of the right wing, whereas Constantine
Dalassenos was on the left.131 After this important event, we encounter
Palaiologos once more in the Book X, in the battle against Cumans, together
with Alexios, after which his presence in the Alexiad is subdued to several
short episodes.
In the war operations, starting from the book X, a younger generation
of generals comes to the fore, namely the emperor’s in-laws and young
cousins. The last mention of George is situated in the episode with the
Norman Tancred, which served to express Norman’s volatile and shrewd
nature. In these passages, Palaiologos’ closeness to the emperor was once
more stressed when he acted against Tancred’s request for huge amounts
of money for his allegiance to Alexios’:
Palaiologos, zealous on the emperor’s behalf (δι’ ὃν εἶχεν ὑπὲρ τοῦ

αὐτοκράτορος ζῆλον) and f inding Tancred’s words insufferable and
hypocritical, pushed him away with contempt. Tancred recklessly darted
towards him, whereupon Alexios rose from his throne and intervened.
Bohemond, for his part, calmed down his nephew, telling him it was
improper to behave with disrespect to the emperor’s relatives (οὐ πρέπον
ἐστὶ τοῖς τοῦ βασιλέως ἀναισχύντως προσφέρεσθαι συγγενέσιν). Tancred,
ashamed now of acting like a drunken lout before Palaiologos (εἶτα
αἰσχυνθεὶς οὕτω πρὸς τὸν Παλαιόλογον) and to some extent convinced by
the arguments of Bohemond and the others, took the oath.132
Mighty (ὄβριμος) George was the only character who deserved an epithet of
Ares. He is unquestionably enumerated among heroes of the Alexiad. And
even more important for us is that Anna felt personally attached to him and
stressed that many of the stories she had recounted came from Palaiologos,
whom she often listened to.133 This particular statement is quoted numerous
times in order to point out Anna’s sources of information. But very peculiar
131 Alexias, VIII 5,5 (59.60), p. 247.

132 Alexiad, p. 341; Alexias, XI 3,2 (66.67), p. 330.
133 Alexias, XI 3,2 (66.67), p. 330.
to Anna is that through this emphasis on closeness with certain members

with her family she stressed who were her favourites, and who will be the
focalisers of her stories. Episodes that were replete with political insinua-
tions were usually recounted from the perspective, or through the focus,
on the agency of the members of the Doukai’s house. Such an example is
precisely George Palaiologos. Nevertheless, being a general during Alexios
reign, Palaiologos inevitably found his way to the pages that recount this
emperor’s history. What is crucial for us is that rhetorical seasoning of his
character made by Anna served to remind the audience once more about
his qualities and virtues. Not all generals from Alexios’ reign deserved the
same pedestal as Palaiologos did. And it is not coincidence at all that another
highly praised general was Nikolaos Maurokatakalon who was married to
one Doukaina also. Thus, the positive image that was constructed with
regard to this hero, completely fits into the political jigsaw meticulously
arranged by Anna Komnene.
John and Michael Doukas
Historical role
The document from the Council in Blachernae palace, held in 1094 preserves
a testimony about the undisputable high status of the two brothers of Eirene
Doukaina. We encounter them right after the emperor’s brother Adrian, on
the second and third place, according to their titles – protostrator Michael
Doukas (τοῦ σεβαστοῦ καὶ πρωτοστράτορος κῦρ Μιχαὴλ τοῦ Δούκα) and sebastos
and great doux John Doukas (τοῦ σεβαστοῦ καὶ μεγάλου δουκὸς κῦρ Ἰωάννου
τοῦ Δούκα).134 Although unquestionably among the most important gener-
als of Alexios’ reign, Michael and John Doukas were not recorded in the
narrative sources in the expected amount. The information about them
we find in the Bryennios Material for History that delivers account on the
events from their childhood, when they were held hostages by Roussel.135
The appearance of these characters in Bryennios work is not surprising if
we consider Neville’s hypothesis that behind significant amount of his text
most possibly lay the history of Caesar John Doukas. Regarding this, the
Alexiad represents the logical continuation of the Doukai’s story from the
Bryennios account, with the special focus on the Caesar John Doukas and
his family members. Other sources, such as Zonaras and Glykas histories,
although they deal with the war operations in which John Doukas was in
134 Le synode des Blachernes, p. 217.

135 Bryennios, Historie, II, p. 173.
command, do not refer to him in any way. The data on these important
personages can be supplemented from the letters of the Theophylaktos, the
archbishop of Ochrid, from an interesting hagiography, the Life of St. Cyril
Phileotes, where Michael Doukas is featured among those who visited the
holy man, since he loved the monks as much as the emperor, being designated
with the same epithet philomonachos.136 In the typikon of the monastery
of Kecharitomene both are mentioned in the commemorations – Michael
as already deceased (9th January), and John as the monk Antonios.137 On
the ocassion of Michael Doukas death, a consolation letter was dedicated
to the augousta by the court poet Michael Straboromanos.138
John Doukas
As the main representative of the Doukai family after Caesar John emerges
Eirene’s younger brother John. He is quantitatively present more than Michael
Doukas in the Alexiad, and we encounter him in the prominent positions.
Already in his prosopographical study, Skoulatos has noted that, whereas
in Bryennios’ history both brothers are seen together, in Anna’s history we
encounter solely young John Doukas, together with his grandfather on his
estate.139 In the focus of narration is young John who welcomed Alexios’
messenger and received the news about the apostasia. He was the one
who transmitted the news to his grandfather, being ‘only a young boy and
for that reason constantly with the Caesar’ (ἰδὼν δὲ τοῦτον ὁ ἔγγονος αὐτοῦ
Ἰωάννης, νέος ἔτι ὢν καὶ μήπω μειράκιον καὶ διὰ τοῦτο ἀδιασπάστως συνὼν τῷ
καίσαρι).140 From the further text we might assume that Michael was also
present, since he is mentioned in the subsequent events. Nevertheless, a
mention of young John had imposed him as the literary successor of his
grandfather, not only through the resounding symbolism of his name, but
through his later role as the prominent member of the Doukai’s.
Doux of Dyrrachium
In the first years of Alexios reign, we encounter John Doukas on the very
important and politically sensitive position 141 – he was named doux of
136 La Vie de St. Cyrille, p. 90-91.

137 Kécharitôménè, p. 125 (1859.1861; 1866.1869).
138 Straboromanos, Éloge, p. 195-201.
139 Skoulatos, 1980, p. 146.
140 Alexias, II 6,4 (67.70), p. 70.
141 The importance of this post had begun to rise from the mid eleventh century. Political
importance of this position was conditioned by the loss of Bari to the Normans in 1071, wherefore
Dyrrachium immediately became the most important strategic position on the west of the Empire.
Dyrrachium. Anna states that his presence in this part of the Empire lasted
for eleven years, although there are disagreements among scholars on Anna’s
conclusion.142 Only Frankopan took Anna’s news into consideration, namely
that John could have been on that position until 1096, when we encounter
on the same position John Komnenos, a son of Isaac Komnenos, Alexios
brother.143 The fact that John was entrusted with such an important strategic
position speaks for itself about his importance within the imperial oikos.
Anna’s references on this period of John’s career are laudable accounts
about his operations against Bodin and Vukan. She states that he had taken
over several fortresses by Vukan, but does not refer to which precisely.
Interesting information about the capture of Constantine Bodin, also does
not include any details about the whole incident.144 It seems as if Anna
missed enough sources for the period of John’s position in Dyrrachium,
hence the information is incomplete. On the other hand, Anna did not
leave out John’s successes although she did not support them with detailed
descriptions of events.
John Doukas in the East 145

The most important military position of John Doukas, as we read from the
Alexiad, was a command in the war against dangerous emir Tzachas.146
As Anna states, he was chosen for that assignment since he was warlike
Political susceptibility of this position was coupled with the fact that precisely from this post two
dangerous insurrections had been raised against the emperor – firstly, Nikephoros Bryennios and
afterwards Nikephoros Basilakios – Frankopan, 2002, p. 69. Thus, it is quite expected to see the
closest members of Alexios family on this important post. For the analysis see Frankopan, 2002, p.71
142 Chalandon and Buckler, and afterwards, Polemis and Gautier, have all accorded with the
opinion that his post could not have lasted more than six years, and that he was instituted in that
position after the overtaking of Dyrrachium in 1085 – cf. Chalandon, 1900, p. 143; Buckler,1929,
p. 402; Polemis, 1968, 66-67; Theophylaktos, Discours, p. 55-56.
143 Frankopan, 2002, p. 90.
144 Alexias, VII 8,9 (7-11), p. 226: ‘Ὁ δὲ Δούκας Ἰωάννης ἐνιαυτοὺς πρὸς τῷ ἑνὶ δέκα εἰς τὸ Δυρράχιον
ἐνδιατρίψας πολλὰ μὲν τῶν ὑπὸ τὴν ἐξουσίαν Βολκάνου ἀφῃρεῖτο φρούρια, πολλοὺς δὲ καὶ ζωγρίαν
Δαλμάτας πρὸς τὸν αὐτοκράτορα ἐξαπέςτειλε καὶ τέλος καρτερὰν μετὰ τοῦ Βοδίνου μάχην συναρράξας
καὶ αὐτὸν κατέσχεν’.
145 Apart from his operations against emir Tzachas, John Doukas is granted credits for the
supression of the insurrections on the Crete and Cyprus – Alexias, IX 2, 1-4, p. 261-261. This narrative
corresponds completely with Zonaras account, although he does not mention John Doukas at
all – Zonaras XVIII 25, 16-19, p. 737; on this particular theme see Frankopan, 2004, passim.
146 In the Book VII the story on Tzachas breaks in the moment when Constantine Dalassenos
awaits arrival of John Doukas – Alexias, VII 8,8 (85.95), p. 225 – to be continued in the Book IX,
which opens precisely with this episode. It was a battle for the liberation of Mitylene – Alexias,
IX 1,3-1,9, p. 259.
and always prepared for the war operations (μαχιμώτατον… καὶ περὶ τὰ
πολεμικὰ ἐπιτήδειον)147, and he never acted against Alexios’ commands (καὶ
μηδ’ ὁπωσοῦν τὰ παρ’ αὐτοῦ ἐντεταλμένα ἀθετεῖν ἐθέλοντα)148. A three-month
siege of Mitylene that was conducted by John Doukas was described in a
praiseworthy manner (καὶ μετὰ τοῦ Τζαχᾶ λαμπροὺς πολέμους συναίρων ἐξ
ἡλίου ἀνατολῆς μέχρι δυσμῶν)149, although it was not so successful (καὶ οὐδὲν
πλέον ἦν τῷ Δούκᾳ τοῦ τοσούτου καμάτου)150, until Alexios engaged in the
operations. Albeit it has been noted 151 that Anna interposed Alexios in this
episode, prescribing the victory to his peculiar advice, I would not agree
with the conclusion that this presentation of John Doukas speaks for the
author’s animosity towards him.152
In this story John is presented commendable in the beginning, when
Anna used the epithet λαμπρός to describe the war against Tzachas. She
stressed his perseverance in the siege that lasted for three months, from
dawn till sunset. The subsequent conclusion of truce with Tzachas proved
to be futile, since he did not fulfill the promise (οὐδ’ ὁ Τζαχᾶς τῆς προτέρας
ἀφίστατο πονηρίας). For this reason, Constantine Dalassenos was summoned,
but it seems that Anna tried to lessen the image of her uncle’s failure. She
stressed his commitment in maintaining the promise given to Tzachas that
he would not attack him on his retreat (ὁ δὲ τὸν προγεγονότα εὐλαβούμενος
ὅρκον ἀνεβάλετο τέως). This suggests that the authoress tended to diminish
John’s lack of success. John’s unsuccessful campaign was since his army
was facing to the East. Although it might be considered an unwise tactical
move, it still depended heavily on the enemy’s position. In addition, the
truce was broken solely because of Tzachas deceitful nature. On the other
hand, we face John’s readiness to respect the truce. His zeal in respecting
the treaty is further stressed with the need of the third party to involve in
this matter, wherefore Constantine Dalassenos was summoned. We read
from these passages that John was not ready to break the oath given to the
enemy. Dalassenos was not bound by this treaty, wherefore he could act
immediately against the enemy. Another argument that was used to show
allegedly negative attitude of the author towards her uncle, is situated in the
fact that the only epithet that was used to describe him was the adjective
147 Alexias, VII 8,9 (11.13), p. 226.

148 Alexias, VII 8,9 (13.14), p. 226.
149 Alexias, IX 1,4 (48.49), p. 259.
150 Alexias, IX 1,5 (50), p. 259.
151 Polemis, 1968, p. 66-70.
152 Presentation of John Doukas has been given as an example of the ‘subordinates in the
Alexiad’ – Sinclair, 2012, p. 386-389.
μαχιμώτατον, in contrast to various laudable epithets that were bestowed

upon John Doukas’ brother, Michael Doukas. Yet, if we turn our attention
to the whole chapter, we find that the same epithet was used for three
different persons. Apart from John Doukas, Constantine Dalassenos (ἄνδρα
μαχιμώτατον καὶ μητρόθεν τούτῳ προσήκοντα) was described as warlike, and
their opponent Bodin also (μαχιμώτατος ὢν καὶ ῥᾳδιουργίας πλήρης), which
should be considered more a literary style of the author to equalise the
opponents. In the case of John Doukas and Bodin, they converge through the
epithet ‘warlike’, but they diverge through their allegiance to the emperor
– whereas Bodin is treacherous, John Doukas is constantly praised for his
loyalty to the emperor. Might this also be an answer to controversies of
Alexios reign and disputable loyalties of the member of the Doukai’s house?
Michael Doukas
The elder brother of Eirene Doukaina, Michael Doukas, is present less in the
Alexiad than his brother. Nevertheless, he is described in extremely praise-
worthy manner, which has confused some scholars in their estimates.153
This should not be a surprising occurrence, since Michael was among the
highest strata of the imperial oikos. Insufficiently supported by sources, this
character remains dim, and cannot be analyzed in more detail. The reason
for this situation can be found in his untimely death, which inevitably led
to a sort of familial oblivion. In the Alexiad, he is more subjected to Anna’s
emotional appeal, and is presented through the memory of a late illustrious
uncle. In the tacit scenes where we encounter him, he is placed next to the
emperor Alexios. The literary presentation of Michael Doukas has certain
features similar with the logos of Manuel Straboromanos, which, most
probably, served Anna’s for the reconstruction of this character.
One of the impressive portraits that we find in the Alexiad is dedicated
to Michael Doukas, who is remembered precisely for this description:
Michael was renowned for his prudence; he surpassed others of his genera-
tion in physical stature too, as well as fine looks; in fact he excelled all
men who ever lived in these respects, for everybody who saw him was
overcome with admiration. Endowed with extraordinary and unrivalled
powers of prevision, he was no less capable of discerning the main perils
and of destroying them.154
153 Polemis, 1968, p. 63-66.

154 Alexiad, p. 172; Alexias, V 7,1 (72.77), p. 159: ‘ὁ φαλαγγάρχης Μιχαὴλ ὁ Δούκας, ὁ πρὸς μητρὸς ἐμὸς
θεῖος, μετὰ τοῦ ὁπλιτικοῦ παντός, ἀνήρ τις ἐπὶ φρονήσει διαβεβοημένος, ὥρᾳ δὲ καὶ μεγέθει σώματος
The epithets deployed are typical of the rhetorical register generally con-
sulted for the praise, and among them namely prudence (φρόνησις), the
size of a body (μεγέθει σώματος), ability to foresee the future (συνιδεῖν δὲ
τὸ μέλλον) and the display of marvellous strenght in his accomplishments
(καταπράξασθαι δεινότατός τε καὶ ἀπαράμιλλος).
We encounter Michael Doukas in the war against Bohemond in book
V, and afterwards in the wars against Pechenegs in Books VII and VIII.
A noticeable trait is Michael’s comradeship with Alexios in his Balkan
campaigns. He was not given a sole command, as was case with John Doukas.
In this sense, it might be possible that there existed some memoirs by John
Doukas were he described his war operations and from which Anna draw
her information, and that Michael Doukas did not leave anything similar
behind.155 Any kind of literary endeavour could have been conducted only
in the leisure time, as we learn from Bryennios’ case, but most probably
this enterprise was reserved for the years of retirement and confinement.
We know that John Doukas reached his retirement, and took monastic vow
as a monk Antonios. Michael Doukas died before the age he could devote
himself to other ventures except war. With regard to this, the source basis
for Anna was quite meager when it comes to this particular character. She
had to draw from her own memory or from other relevant sources that most
probably were not from the pen of Michael Doukas.
In the operations against Bohemond, Michael did not distinguish himself,
although lavishly introduced beforehand.156 In the war against Pechenegs,
he is present as a member of Alexios’ closest retinue, next to his brother
Adrian, brother-in-law Nikephoros Melissenos, and Nikephoros and Leo
Diogenes.157 We do not have any episodes of his warlike zeal. Instead, we
have only his advices to the emperor. In one episode, he suggests Alexios
to withdraw from the battle against Skyths. He is presented as Alexios’
closest advisor whose proposals were accurate.158 The relation between
Alexios and Michael is delivered in a set of dialogues, which pertain to
artificial narrative element that ‘fulfils the important narrative functions
διαφέρων οὐ τῶν τότε καιροῦ, ἀλλὰ καὶ τῶν πώποτε γεγενημένων (θάμβος γὰρ εἶχεν ἅπαντας τοὺς
ὁρῶντας τὸν ἄνδρα), συνιδεῖν δὲ τὸ μέλλον καὶ φωρᾶσαι τὸ ἐνεστὸς καὶ καταπράξασθαι δεινότατός τε
καὶ ἀπαράμιλλος’.
155 Although Sinclair hypothesised that she ‘manipulated the information accordingly’ – Sinclair,
2012, p. 388.
156 The aforementioned description of Michael Doukas comes just before the narration of the
war against Bohemond.
157 Alexias, VII 3,9 (84.85), p. 212; Alexias, VIII 4,4 (63.65), p. 244.
158 Alexias, VII 3,10 (5.13), 213.
of characterisation and advances the plot’.159 Inasmuch as it purports to be

a vivid presentation of a historical situation, this dialogue is subjected to
author’s stylistic editing, and in this case in particular ‘is subsumed by the
discourse of the narrator’.160
At this point the protostrator [Michael Doukas], who had seen the disor-
derly flight of the Romans (the lines were by now completely broken up
and the rout was uncontrollable), addressed the emperor: “Why, Sir”, he
said, “are you trying to hold out here any longer? Why lose your life, without
a thought for your own safety?” “Better to die fighting bravely than win
safety by doing something unworthy”, replied Alexios. But the protostrator
persisted, “If you were just an ordinary soldier, those would be fine words;
but when your death involves danger for everybody else, why not choose
the better course? If you are saved, you will make war again, and win.”
Alexios saw the danger that now threatened him; the Scyths were boldly
attacking and all hope of saving the day had gone. “This is the moment”,
he said, “When with God’s help we must look to our own safety”.161
It is rather peculiar to see Alexios unaware of the danger, wherefore an

interesting dialogue was deployed for purposes of explaining his need to
withdraw from the battle. This whole occurrence would not have been
so strange at all had not there been many previous accounts where Anna
vindicated his retreat from the battle, and mostly in cases against Bohemond:
But when he saw his regiments broken up and scattered, he realised that he
must secure his own safety, not to preserve his own life nor overwhlemed
by fear, as someone might suggest, but in the hope that by avoiding danger
and recovering his strenght he might resume the struggle with his Keltic
adversaries more bravely another day.162
Further: ‘When all his army had melted away and he was left with few
companions, he judged it to be his duty no longer to expose himself to
senseless risks (for when a man after much suffering has no more strength
to fight, he would be a fool to thrust himself into obvious peril)’.163
159 Herman, Jahn, Ryan, 2001, p. 171.

160 Ibid. p. 172.
It becomes clear that Anna’s use of a dialogue form was a narrative

stylistic feature that served to focus the readers’ attention to Michael
Doukas, through his speech, that is, through chreia logike, as manifestation
of his practical wisdom (phronesis). In addition, Doukas is emphasised as
a character whose opinion was highly appreciated by the emperor. The
following episode in which Michael lost his horse but was granted one by
his servant was concluded with Anna’s observation that ‘he rejoined the
emperor and afterwards, so great was his affection for his brother-in-law,
never left his side; there was not a foot’s breadth between them (ἐφθακὼς
δὲ τὸν αὐτοκράτορα οὐκέτι αὐτοῦ χωρίζεται οὐδὲ βῆμα ποδὸς ἐξόχως τοῦτον
ποθῶν)’.164
These open expressions of devotion to the emperor or vice versa, are not
typical of Anna’s literary style. A very similar formula was used in the case
of another member of the Doukai oikos, in Book IX, and refers to exceeding
love that Alexios had for Constantine Doukas, whom he cherished as his own
child (ὡς ἴδιον ἀπάρτι τέκνον ἐξόχως φιλῶν τοῦτον).165 I would not dismiss as
coincidental these two occurrences in the text at all. Anna’s insistence on
the love between certain members of the Doukai’s house and the emperor
Alexios most probably served to answer some controversial political debate
current in the Komnenian circles. Anna’s insistence on the closeness between
Constantine Doukas and Alexios had particular political seasoning that will
be explained in the next chapter. Here too, her emphasis on the closeness
between Alexios and Michael should be given a proper political reading.
A presentation of Michael Doukas in highly laudable manner, as a man
that surpassed all his contemporaries, inevitably demonstrates Anna’s
favouritism of her uncle. However, this should not implicate a negative
attitude toward John Doukas, who was not described in a similar fashion. It
seems that Anna’s intention was to equalise the two brothers, since the lack
of Michael’s presence in the Alexiad is evident. Therefore, a highly rhetorical
register used for Michael Doukas supplanted the lack of information on
him and his actions. In addition, John Doukai’ actions – his position in
Dyrrachium, offensive against Tzachas and suppression of insurrections
on the Cyprus and Crete – were actually juxtaposed to Zonaras’ account
who delivered an account bereft of John Doukas agency.
A political reality of that time had inevitably made Doukai’s the most
important family next to the Komnenoi. Yet, personal reality of Anna
164 Alexiad, p. 226; Alexias, VII 3,11 (29.30), p. 214.

165 Alexias, IX 5,6 (87.88); The same verb was used for the love of Robert Guiscard for his
daughter – φιλῶν τὴν θυγατέρα ἐξόχως – Alexias, I 11,5 (87.88), p. 37.
Komnene had made them focal characters in important episodes. This

inequality especially comes to the fore when compared to the presence of
the members of the Komnenian house in the Alexiad. As Frankopan rightly
observed, an unexpected and sudden absence of Adrian Komnenos is quite
noticeable, wherefore he came to a conclusion that Adrian might have fallen
into disgrace.166 Even more interesting Frankopan’s remark is that on those
posts where one should expect to see Adrian Komnenos, we encounter
George Palaiologos or John Doukas. And even if we accept the thesis on
Adrian Komnenos’ fall from imperial grace, it is highly indicative that Anna
insisted so much on Doukai’ loyalty to the emperor Alexios. Prolonged and
exhaustive war activities against emir Tzachas were probably a matter
of dispute and, therefore, inserted as counterpart to John II Komnenos
eastern campaigns and victories, but also as manifestation of the political
importance that Doukai played in the later years of Alexios’ reign.
Finally, Anna connected herself to Michael and John Doukas in the same
manner as she did with other crucial members of the both imperial houses.
Through this specific affinity for certain characters we easily follow who
were protagonists of her personal history. She did not neglect to connect
herself to her uncles when she presented them for the first time, in the
case of John – ὁ μὲν οὖν δοὺξ καὶ θεῖος οὐμος πρὸς μητρὸς 167 – in the case of
Michael – Μιχαὴλ ὁ Δούκας, ὁ πρὸς μητρὸς ἐμος θεῖος 168 – and in the case of
both of them – καὶ τῶν πρὸς […] μητρὸς ἐμοὶ θείων – when she referred to
the sources of her information. Through this specific literary style Anna
interjected herself into narration. It was subtle way to present Alexios
rule in the guise of a memoir, stressing her memory as the main source
of information. Thus, through these generic fluctuations, from history to
memoir, and from historical characters to closest family members, Anna
kept on focusing the reader’s attention to her place within the both imperial
houses, but mainly within her mother’s.
Constantine Doukas
A picture of a romantic and somewhat tragic hero Constantine Doukas that

prevails in the contemporary historiography draws in its greatest extent
from the Alexiad. He is referred to as embodied Eros (ὁποῖον τὸν Ἒρωτα)169
166 Frankopan, 2007, p. 28.

167 Alexias, XI 5,3 (48), p. 336.
168 Alexias, V 7,1 (73), p. 159.
169 Alexias, III 1,3 (41), p. 88.
and his characterisation is ossified within the boundaries of the rhetorical

topoi – from Michael Psellos and his description of a new born porphyrogen-
netos to Theophylaktos of Ochrid’s paideia basilike, Anna Komnene’s Alexiad
and the Eulogy of George Tornikes.170
Constantine Doukas represents one of the crucial personages of this
period of uncertainty for the Komnenians, which lasted until the birth
of the first purple-born son of Eirene and Alexios, John Komnenos. This
impression comes mainly from the Alexiad, albeit the role that Constantine
Doukas plays in these events is mostly passive. The main agency in the fight
for his legacy is given to his mother, ambitious empress Maria of Alania.
Thus, the story of Constantine Doukas in the Alexiad is inextricably linked
to the deeds of Maria of Alania, who acts only in favour of her son.
Anna Komnene presents Constantine Doukas through three mutually
interconnected narrative entities – 1) through the story of the relation of
mother and son, 2) through the importance of Constantine Doukas for the
Komnenians, and 3) through personal importance of Constantine Doukas
for Anna Komnene and her ambitious politics. Conjoined in these three
stories, the character of Constantine Doukas can be analyzed as an exclusive
theme that structures the story of the Komnenian insurrection, and also,
the story of the concomitant events.
Anna emphasised the importance of Constantine Doukas in the story
of the birth of her younger sibling, John Komnenos, where she passed over
Constantine’s loss of the imperial prerogatives. This story, withal, presents a
climax of the embedded narrative on Constantine Doukas and his imperial
right. We encounter him for the last time in the episode on Nikephoros’
Diogenes conspiracy and Maria of Alania’s alleged collaboration in this
infamous act, which presents the ending of the story about this, to some
extent tragic imperial couple of the highly capable mother and irresolute son.
Constantine Doukas as a theme in the story of the First Norman Invasion

Thematically and structurally, the character of Constantine Doukas is
introduced already in the first book of the Alexiad, and presents one of
the protagonists. According to Anna’s words, he was very important at
the beginning of Alexios reign, since he was the main reason for the First
Norman invasion.
Book I stages a time before Alexios’ ascendancy, and deals – in the first ten
chapters – with Alexios’ fighting against rebels. Afterwards, the narration
focuses on the prehistory of Guiscard’s first offensive against Byzantium.
170 However, Eulogy of George Tornikes is a derivative from the Alexiad.

In that place opens up a theme on the greatest military enterprise of the

emperor Alexios, where Constantine Doukas stars, although his role is
mainly passive.
At the very beginning, Anna stresses her emotional closeness to this
protagonist, by which she turns the focus of narration towards the per-
sonal importance of Constantine Doukas. His ideological importance was
paramount for Anna. It is very difficult to discern in what measure was this
romantic and doleful ‘fair-haired Menelaos’ (ξανθῷ Μενελάῳ)171 plausible
and how big his role in Anna Komnene’s life was, since, thanks to her writing
only, we face a highly-rhetorical image of this character.
The main cause for Norman Invasion was the engagement of Constantine
Doukas and Helen, the daughter of Robert Gusicard.172 This marriage was
in the focus of diplomacy from the beginning of Michael VII’s reign, 173
wherefore the breakage in its fulfillment upon Nikephoros III Botanei-
ates acquisition of the imperial throne served as a main excuse (πρόφασιν)
for Gusicard’s invasion. However, it is rather interesting that Anna does
not mention the first attempt for Byzantine-Norman marriage alliance
negotiated in Konstantios Doukas behalf, Michael VII’s brother, and one
of the daughters of Robert Guiscard around the year 1073.174 Even in this
matter, Anna’s discourse was reserved solely for Constantine Doukas and
his engagement to the Norman daughter.
This particular reason for war placed Constantine Doukas in the focus of
these events. Anna stressed the erroneous sides of that marriage alliance:
‘a marriage with a foreigner and a barbarian, from our point of view quite
inexpedient’ (πρὸς ἡμᾶς κῆδος ἑτερόφυλόν τε καὶ βάρβαρον καὶ τὰ πρὸς ἡμᾶς
ἀπροσάρμοστον).175 She ascribed it to Michael VII Doukas’ lack of attention
(ἀπροσεξία). Especially negative attitude of the author towards this marriage
is apparent in the use of the word ‘barbaric’ to describe this relationship –
‘This particular emperor, Michael Doukas, promised his own son Constantine
in marriage to the daughter of this barbarian Robert (τὴν τοῦ βαρβάρου τούτου
θυγατέρα), and from that sprang their hostile acts’.176 In these passages,
Anna still does not introduce the name of Robert’s daughter, adding to the
171 Alexias, III 1,2 (21.22), p. 87.

172 cf. also Skylitzes Continuatus, Synexeia, p. 170 (10.15).
173 Alexias, I 10, 1 (7), p. 34 et seq.; Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p. 51-52.
174 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p. 50; no.9.
175 Alexiad, p. 53; Alexias, I 10,2 (20.21), p. 35.
176 Alexiad, p. 53; Alexias, I 10,2 (26.28), p. 35: ‘Ἐκεῖνος γὰρ ὁ εἰρημένος αὐτοκράτωρ ὁ Δούκας Μιχαὴλ
τὴν τοῦ βαρβάρου τούτου θυγατέρα εἰς τὸν ἑαυτοῦ υἱὸν κατηγγυήσατο Κωνσταντῖνον, κἀντεῦθεν
ἀνερράγη τὰ τῶν πολεμίων’.
idea of an alien and obscure figure of a fiancée described solely as barbar-

ian daughter.177 The author’ disparaging view on Michael’s incompetency
in leading the foreign policy deviates from Magdalino’s assessment that
‘Michael VII’s foreign policy, which his government inherited from his
father, Constantine X, and ultimately from Constantine IX Monomachos,
was equally serious and responsible. Specifically […] the recourse to the
Norman manpower, Amalfitan sea-power and alliance with the papacy was
in the best tradition of Byzantine imperialism: a tradition which embraced
the Latin West, just as it embraces the Syriac and Armenian Orient, as an
integral part of the Roman oikoumene’.178
However, Anna’s appraisal of this whole affair was judged through the
lenses of a barbarian and utterly inappropriate marriage alliance. There
was not a slightest notion that this marriage policy could have been the
wisest and far-reaching solution at that moment.
According to Anna, the Norman war was inextricably connected to Con-
stantine Doukas and his unaccomplished marriage to Guiscard’s daughter,
wherefore she stated that she would deal about those events in more detail:
About Constantine, the terms of his marriage contract and the foreign
[barbarian, L.V.] alliance in general (ὅλως τοῦ βαρβαρικοῦ κήδους), his hand-
some appearance and stature, his physical and moral qualities, we shall
speak in due course, when I relate the sorry tale of my misfortunes (τὰς
ἐμὰς συμφορὰς). Before that I will give an account of this proposed wedding,
the defeat of the whole barbarian force (βαρβαρικῆς ἁπάσης δυνάμεως) and
the destruction of these pretenders from Normandy – pretenders whom
Michael in his folly raised up against the Roman Empire.179
Of the largest interest for us is the author’s self-referential entangling

into this particular story. Guiscard’s daughter was welcomed and taken
care of according to the imperial customs.180 She was supposed to be the
next augousta, by her marriage to Constantine Doukas. In the Alexiad we
177 The girl most probably arrived in Constantinople in 1076 – Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē,
p. 51, no.11.
178 Magdalino, 1996, p. 8.
179 Alexiad, p. 53; Alexias, I 10,2 (29.35), p. 35: ‘καὶ τοῦ περὶ αὐτὸν γαμικοῦ συναλλάγματος καὶ ὅλως
τοῦ βαρβαρικοῦ κήδους καὶ δὴ καὶ ὅπως εἶχε κάλλους τε καὶ μεγέθους ὁ ἀνὴρ καὶ ὁποῖος ἦν τὴν φύσιν
καὶ ποδαπός, κατὰ καιρὸν ἐροῦμεν, ἐπειδὰν ἀπολοφυροίμην καὶ τὰς ἐμὰς συμφορὰς μικρὸν μετὰ τὴν
τοῦ κήδους τούτου διήγησιν καὶ τὴν ἧτταν τῆς βαρβαρικῆς ἁπάσης δυνάμεως καὶ τὴν ἀπώλειαν τῶν
Νορμανόθεν τυράννων, οὓς ἐξ ἀλογίας κατὰ τῆς τῶν Ῥωμαίων ἐθρέψατο’.
180 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p. 51.
encounter the mention of her dweilling in Constantinople, although this

information is rather vague:
Two of the daughters were with him; the third of course, which had been
unfortunate from the day of her betrothal, was held in Constantinople.
Her young betrothed, being still a young boy, shrank from the union from
the outset, just as babies are scared by Mormo.181
Anna’s disparaging view of this union was more than just a typical Byzantine
notion of foreigners. It concerned her personally, since, later, she was sup-
posed to marry Constantine also. Furthermore, that marriage entailed the
imperial rank. Thus, Anna’s self-interference in the book I, concerning the
engagement of Constantine and Helen, leads us directly to the book VI that
delivers an explanation of Anna’s lament. The only binding story between
Constantine and Anna is situated in the Book VI, where the author explained
her connection with this protagonist, and alluded to the misfortunes that
resulted from this relationship.
The connection of Anna’s own destiny to the story of Robert Guiscard is also
found in the chapter about her imperial birth that follows immediately after the
death of the Norman invader, and the author’ short appraisal of his character.
Alexios triumphant return to Constantinople upon finishing the war against
Normans was furnished with the story of the birth of the first purple-born
child of the imperial couple. The author has meaningfully connected herself
to these events and characters, and promised that she would continue this
story after. Quite indicatively, the resolution of this whole marriage affair
was given precisely in the book VI, when the Gusicard’s war was over, and
Constantine Doukas was betrothed to another maiden, Anna Komnene.
The role of Constantine Doukas in the Komnenian insurrection

The young porphyrogennetos is presented in the Alexiad as the only heir
of the imperial legacy of the Doukai’s. However, that did not correspond
with the historical reality, since there was at least one member of the impe-
rial branch of the Doukai’s that could have claimed his right, namely the
aforementioned Konstantios Doukas. In addition to this, one should not
disregard the daughter of the emperor Constantine X Doukas and Eudokia
Macrembolitissa, Zoe that played an important role in marriage alliances in
181 Alexiad, p. 61; Alexias, I 12,11 (70.73), p. 43: ‘δύο δὲ ἤστην αὐτῷ (τὴν γὰρ τρίτην ἡ βασιλὶς τῶν πόλεων
εἶχεν ἐξ ἀρχῆς αὐτῆς οὔπω ἔφηβος ὢν ἀπεστρέφετο τουτὶ τὶ κῆδος καθάπερ τοὺς μορμολυττομένους
τὰ βρέφη)’.
these decades, although all things concerning her are significantly blurred.
Anna did not miss to mention that Zoe was considered a potential consort for
the emperor Nikephoros Botaneiates, but Eudokia’s design was outmaneu-
vered by ploys of Caesar John Doukas who finally proposed Maria of Alania
as the most suitable option.182 Needles to say that further alliance between
Zoe and Adrian Komnenos was a natural outcome through which Eudokia’s
and Dalassene’s amicable relationship was once more strengthened.183
However, this marriage only added to already complex marriage-relations
patchwork and further aggravated Alexios’ chances to impose himself as
the only legitimate option for the imperial throne.
Around the year 1081, there were several possible claimants to the imperial
throne:
– porphyrogennetos Konstantios Doukas, son of emperor Constantine X
Doukas;
– porphyrogennetos Zoe, daughter of emperor Constantine X Doukas;
– porphyrogennetos Constantine Doukas, son of emperor Michael VII;
– porphyrogennetoi Nikephoros and Leo Diogenes, sons of emperor
Romanos Diogenes.
Among all of them, in the Alexiad we encounter solely Constantine Doukas

as the bearer of the imperial legitimacy of his father, whose imperial position
was a driving motive of the story of the Komnenoi’s insurrection. All other
purple-born children were not connected directly to this story, but their
appearance in the Alexiad, with the epithet ‘porphyrogennetos’ also served
a particular ideological agenda that was already discussed. Constantine’ role
is the crucial starting premise for understanding the importance that was
ascribed to this protagonist by the author. By effacing Konstantios Doukas
almost completely from the pages of the Alexiad, Anna redirected the theme
about legitimisation of the Komnenian insurrection to Constantine Doukas.
By insisting on her connection with him, she presented herself as the exclusive
heir of the imperial branch of the Doukai. Solely this marriage alliance could
have fulfilled the final unification of the two imperial branches. It would have
been a second generation of the Komnenodoukikon genos, the one celebrated
by Prodromos in his address to Anna Komnene and Nikephoros Bryennios.184
182 For Zoe’s supposed marriage to Botaneiates see Alexias, III 2,5 (37.48), p. 91-92; Skylitzes
Continuatus, Synexeia, p. 181-182.
183 In relation to Dalassene’ support against Caesar John’s actions.
184 This junction of the two genē is very peculiar, since it occurs precisely in the poems dedicated
to Caesar and Anna Komnene. – Theodore Prodromos, Aux fils du césar, p. 347.
Thus, Anna’s distortion of the events connected to this character focused

on two phenomena:
1 complete exclusion of Konstantios Doukas and
2 emphasis on the connection between two porphyrogennetoi – Constan-
tine Doukas and Anna Komnene.
Constantine Doukas was, according to Anna’s words, the main reason

for Maria of Alania’s decisive interference with the Komnenoi against
Nikephoros III Botaneiates. Her support proved to be crucial in the first
phase of the apostasia. The whole story about Maria’s role in the insurrec-
tion was to some extent simplified through the motive of a caring mother.
Thus, Maria’s treason against emperor Botaneiates was carefully disguised.
The fight for Constantine’s imperial legacy is in the focus of narration in
the Book II, and presents the main theme of the insurrection. Decision
of the emperor Botaneiates III to assign as his heir some other man than
Constantine, was displayed as a sufficient reason to justify Maria’s agency
and her support for the Komnenian cause. As I have already stressed, this
story is delivered in a slightly altered manner by Zonaras – according to
him, Botaneiates chose Komnenoi to be his diadochoi. In contrast to that,
Anna did not mention at all that Komnenoi were ever considered heirs. She
had meticulously left them out in order to deliver a completely different
discourse. A story of the insurrection was actually a story of the Komnenian
fight for Constantine Doukas’ imperial inheritance. And that is how Anna
announces the whole plot:
My father, you see, had seised power (ὁ γὰρ ἐμὸς πατὴρ τῆς βασιλείας
ἐπιδραξάμενος) (as I shall describe in detail later), had driven Botaneiates
from his throne, had sent for Constantine, Doukas’ son, who of all men
under the sun was the most illustrious, and had given him for a second
time a share in the government (μετεδίδου αὖθις τῆς βασιλείας).185
This is one of the rare occurrences where Alexios’ seisure of the imperial
throne is not described with the word apostasia. It is rather contrary – his
act is announced as just, since Alexios only restored Constantine to his
previous position. Animosity towards Botaneiates that was announced at
the end of the Book I is not present in the next book, when the upheaval
185 Alexiad, p. 67; Alexias, I 15,3 (79.82), p. 49:’ὁ γὰρ ἐμὸς πατὴρ τῆς βασιλείας ἐπιδραξάμενος, ὡς
ὕστερον διηγήσομαι, τὸν Βοτανειάτην τῶν βασιλείων ἐξήλασε καὶ τὸν τοῦ Δούκα υἱὸν τὸν περιφανέστατον
Κωνσταντῖνον ἐκεῖνον ἐν τοῖς ὑφ’ἥλιον προσηκάμενος μετεδίδου αὖθις τῆς βασιλείας’.
that the Komnenoi caused was described with the term apostasia. The
only invariable motive throughout these books was actually Constantine’s
imperial right, its loss and restoration.
Successful ending of the apostasia was accomplished in the episode where
Alexios confirmed Maria of Alania’s will in the Golden Bull (ἀλλὰ λαμβάνει
χρυσόβυλλον λόγον βεβαιοῦντα τὰ αὐτῆς θελήματα ἅπαντα)186:
Maria, on the advice of the Caesar asked for a written pledge, guaranteed
in letters of red and a golden seal, not only that she should be allowed to
live in security with her son, but that he should be co-ruler with Alexios,
with the right to wear the purple sandals and a crown, and the right to
be acclaimed as emperor with him.187
Constantine and Alexios co-rulership was personally important for Anna

Komnene, a topic she substantiated in the book VI. She enjoyed imperial
acclamations together with Constantine, which was a testimony of the
juncture of the two imperial houses and the two porphyrogennetoi. Anna
stressed she was immediately crowned with an imperial diadem – Μετρητῶν
δέ τινων παρελθουσῶν ἡμερῶν στέφους κἀμὲ ἀξιοῦσιν οἱ γονεῖς καὶ βασιλικοῦ
διαδήματος 188 – and conjoined with Constantine Doukas – Κωνσταντῖνον
καὶ Ἄνναν ἐν ταύτῳ ἐξεφώνουν ἐν τοῖς τῆς εὐφημίας καιροῖς οἱ τῆς εὐφημίας
προεξάρχοντες.189
Anna never mentioned Constantine’s loss of the imperial right. That
happened several years after the birth of John Komnenos, when he was
crowned as Alexios co-ruler. Although Anna suggests that John was chosen
as successor immediately after his birth, being baptised and crowned in
the church of Hagia Sophia, there are not any explicit statements on the
position that Constantine held from that time onwards. Most of politically
sensitive themes for Anna Komnene are unfinished in the Alexiad, wherefore
they still present matters of dispute. Anna’s disruptive narrative, however,
could be just one more aposiopesis, where Anna deliberately broke off her
story and embedded the conclusion in the premises she chose to reveal.
186 Alexias, III 4,6 (25.27), p. 97.

187 Alexiad, p. 113; Alexias, III 4,6 (21.25), p. 97: ‘δι΄ἐρυθρῶν βεβαιωθησομένην γραμμάτων καὶ
σφραγίδος χρυσῆς παρὰ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος, ὥστε μὴ μόνον ἀσινὴς σὺν τῷ υἱῷ διατηρηθῆναι, ἀλλὰ καὶ
συμβασιλεύειν αὐτῷ κἀκεῖνον τά τε ἐρυθρὰ ὑποδιδυσκόμενον καὶ στεφηφοροῦντα καὶ ὡς βασιλέα σὺν
αὐτῷ ἀναγορευόμενον’.
188 Alexias, VI 8,3 (14.16), p. 184.
189 Alexias, VI 8,3 (23.24), p. 184.
Constantine in the plot of Nikephoros Diogenes

The conspiracy of Nikephoros Diogenes190 presents one of the most dangerous
challenges of Alexios’ internal politics. It gathered the most prominent
members of the senate, such as Alexios’ brother-in-law Taronites, and many
other aristocrats, whose names were not preserved in the manuscript where
we encounter a lacuna.191 Apart from the many senatorial logades, infamous
for her partaking in this conspiracy was Maria of Alania. One would ask
why Anna mentioned Maria’s involvement in this disgraceful act, if she was
mostly eulogised. Furthermore, she could have easily passed this information
into silence, in a similar fashion as she did with many other discreditable
facts. Yet, the whole story of Diogenes’ conspiracy is multilayered and filled
with embedded allusions that encompass a shrouded critique of the emperor
Alexios. It was done mainly in favour of Constantine Doukas.
At first glance, it seems rather confusing that Constantine Doukas is
completely left out from this story. He is not listed among the conspirators,
where we encounter his mother. But that is, again, completely compatible
with Anna Komnene’s discourse where we encounter Maria of Alania as an
actor only for the cause of her son. The agency of Constantine Doukas was
related to his mother’s ambitions. It seems, thus, that Anna’s testimony on
Constantine’s involvement is tentatively blurred.
The moment when Constantine Doukas was deprived of his imperial
inheritance is not precisely described in the Alexiad. Anna takes no notice
of that event. It is highly probable that this question was brought up with
the coronation of young John Komnenos.192 I suggest that was precisely this
event gave Maria of Alania reason to take part in the conspiracy. Chronologi-
cal closeness of these events193 – John’s coronation and the conspiracy of
Nikephoros Diogenes – enables us to establish a cause-effect relationship
between them.
The story of Constantine Doukas ends in the Alexiad in a very peculiar
manner. Anna stated that Alexios was emotionally attached to him since
190 Most recent study of this problem was conducted by Frankopan, 2007, p. 17-25; Frankopan,
2006, passim.
191 Alexias, IX 8,4 (96), p. 276.
192 John was crowned between 1 September and the end of November 1092 – cf. Frankopan,
2007, p. 17; Varzos assumed that the official ceremony took place on 1 September 1092, Varzos,
1984, p. 204, whereas Stanković opts for 13 September, which was the date of John’s birth, and
therefore, quite suitable for the coronation – Stanković, 2016, p. 16-17.
193 The autumn of 1092, in case of John’s coronation, and most probably summer of 1094, in
case of Diogenes’ conspiracy. Frankopan has clearly demonstrated the chronological reference
on Diogenes’ conspiracy, moving it from spring to summer. – Frankopan, 2006, p. 273.
‘he loved him deeply, as if he were his own son’ (ἅμα δὲ καὶ ὡς ἴδιον ἀπαρτὶ
τέκνον ἐξόχως φιλῶν τοῦτον).194
The sequencing of events in the Diogenes conspiracy can allude to
Constantine’s participation, although it was carefully covered up. In the
last reference to Constantine, we encounter him in the retinue of Alexios’
(συνεπόμενος τῷ αὐτοκράτορι), when he offered to welcome him on his estate
Pentegoste, near Serres.195 The emperor accepted the invitation as a short
relief and for a rest. Nevertheless, precisely in this setting occurred one of the
several attempts of Nikephoros Diogenes on Alexios’ life, but his intention
was discovered in time.196
Two very important indicators of Maria’s and Constantine’s participation
in the conspiracy are the following:
1 Nikephoros Diogenes asked for protection from Maria of Alania, on her
estate, which was explained by the fact that Nikephoros and Michael VII
were brothers from the same mother. Thus, Maria of Alania’s goodwill
was expected.
2 Alexios did not allow Constantine to follow him on his campaign, which
was explained by typical excuse – that he was his mother’s only son (ἦν
γὰρ μονογενὴς τῇ μητρί). That sudden change in Alexios’ attitude might
suggest that he doubted Constantine Doukas.
It is highly indicative that Anna had a need to vindicate Constantine’s sudden

absence from Alexios’ war campaign. The way she ended this passage looks
as if she wanted to assert once more the idea about Alexios and Constantine’s
closeness stating that he loved him as his son. This narrative technique was
also applied in other conspiracy story – on Isaac’s son John – where Alexios
was also hindered to act against conspirator due to his fatherly love toward
him. Maybe we can find in this literary technique a notion that Constantine
was also pardoned for his act.
What remains as a conclusion about Diogenes’ conspiracy is that the year
1094, already brought up completely altered circumstances in the imperial
internal politics, which turned toward the idea of dynastic succession.
194 Alexiad, p. 280; Alexias, IX 5,6 (87.88), p. 270.

195 Alexias, IX 5,4 (60.63), 269.
196 It was discovered by Alexios closest war comrade Tatikios – Alexias, IX 5,5 (68.82), p. 269.
The appearance of Tatikios in these scenes was explained by Frankopan as a signifier of possible
involvement of Adrian Komnenos in the conspiracy. Although at that moment Adrian held a
position of the great domestic, he was not assigned with the role of investigating the conspira-
tors. Frankopan also brought up idea about Constantine’s collaboration with reference to this
particular episode on his estate – cf. Frankopan, 2007, 24-25.
Constantine’s imperial right was annulled, and by 1094, it represented

de facto state of affairs, causing the last serious perturbation within the
imperial oikos from the side of non-Komnenoi. Most probably, the conspiracy
of Isaac’s son John Komenons was also triggered by John’s coronation.197
Because of this, Maria of Alania’s and Constantine’s collaboration in the
conspiracy is comprehensible, since the Doukai’s porphyrogennetos was the
crucial political figure until the birth of John Komnenos. Reference to this
story could have been easily passed into silence. Instead, it suggested that
Komnenian oikos was not homogenous at all, since it encompassed mutually
opposed interests that were directly challenged with the coronation of the
first Komnenian successor. These conspiracy-stories, as much as they could
be inference for Alexios’ ability to cope with many difficulties, were also a
powerful indicator of the political uncertainty of that time, and even more
potent allusion of the author’ that there were many of them left unsatisfied
with Alexios’ political move. Conspiracies stories were certainly not a way
to commend a ruler.
A unifying element for these two conspiracies was Alexios’ specif ic
attitude towards conspirators, and Anna’s insistence on the fact that he loved
them as his own sons. I would not take this as pure rhetorical embellishment,
but as an indicator that all those who were so close to Alexios showed openly
their dissatisfaction at some point after 1092. In the Komnenian political
register, filial love was a signifier of political legitimacy. Both conspiracies
posed serious threats to the establishment of the Komnenian dynasty.
Anna did not pass them into silence. In addition, she did not even record
Constantine’s death. The story about him is untold, in the similar way as
the story of John Komnenos. We lack linear narratives in these stories and
the cause-effect sequencing of events. For Anna, of prime importance was
Constantine’s imperial legacy, because of which she shaped her story in that
manner that we do not get the idea it was ever annulled.
Motives
Porphyrogennesis of Constantine Doukas

Very important discursive element is the purple-birth of Constantine
Doukas, heavily emphasised by Anna Komnene. Through this motive, Anna
stressed the imperial legacy of Constantine, as direct imperial descendant
of the Doukai.
197 Certain similarities between two conspiracies were noticed by Frankopan, although he did
not dwell in more detail on this particular topic – Frankopan, 2007, p. 16-17.
Constantine’s purple birth was specified in the Chronographia of Michael

Psellos, where he stated he had seen the baby already crowned with the
imperial diadem (Τὸν τοῦ Μιχαὴλ τοῦ Δούκα βασιλέως υἱόν Κωνσταντῖνον
βρεφύλλιον ἐγὼ καὶ ἐν ἀγκάλαις γαλακτοτροφούμενον ἑωράκειν καὶ ταίνιᾳ
βασιλικῇ ἀναδεδεμένον τὴν κεφαλήν).198
A mention of the imperial prerogatives on the newly born baby served to
emphasise Constantine’s legitimacy in the circumstances when there were
more pretenders to the imperial throne. One should take into consideration
the general bias of Psellos’ Chronographia, and its provenance – its second
part was written for the Doukai, allegedly for Michael VII, but most probably
for the Caesar John. In this part of Psellos’ narrative he introduced the idea
about Doukai’s ennomos arche, which suggested their undisputed imperial
legitimacy. The next generation of political ideologists built on the ideas
that he introduced.
This leitmotif deployed by Theophylaktos of Ochrid in his paideia basilike
dedicated to Constantine Doukas was his double imperial ancestry:
From your father’s side you have legal imperial ancestry, and your blessed
grandfather enjoyed more in rectifying unjust judgments than in power
per se. As for your godly father, which virtue did not illuminate his phy-
sique? […] And your mother, which is imperial also, and from the most
blessed seed, having not only an illustrious father but also grandfather
and great grand-father, and innumerable imperial ancestors, and revealed
a truly imperial soul through her demeanor.199
Theophylaktos was instructor and paidagogos of Constantine Doukas,200

close to the empress Maria of Alania whose place, in the basilikos logos for
her son, is dominant. This text is highly important for our understanding
of the motives Anna deployed, since Theophylaktos delivers a political
treatise on the ideal rule. He questions the imperial rule and its antinomy,
tyrannia, stating that ‘tyranny lies in ambush of each basileia’, and then
sets off to describe what tyranny means.
The archibishop’s logos was composed after Alexios’ seisure of the imperial
power. Therefore, it seems highly indicative that Theophylaktos treats in
detail the tyranny as ‘a forced act against the supreme power, where he does
not receive the reins of power from the people, but snatches them through
198 Psellos, Chronographia, VII, p. 376.

199 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p. 185 (14-16; 23-26).
200 Theophylaktos, Discours, p. 48.
slaughter and bloodshed’.201 Alexios’ ascent to the throne was precisely that
kind of endeavour – and Anna Komnene did not refrain from stating Alexios’
deep repentance for slaughter of the citisens. The chronological timeframe
in which the logos was composed and delivered is coloured with uncertainty
of the newly established emperor, who had for his co-ruler, an imperial scion,
indisputably and solidly legitimate. This kind of legitimacy – acquired by the
purple-birth was acknowledged prior to this speech as a crucial prerequisite
for the supreme power. It seems that Theophylaktos’ logos was a sort of
inaugural lecture, and a starting point for Anna’s own observation of the
legitimacy issue. She did not refrain from describing her father’s seisure of
the imperial throne in the crudest sense of the word used – apostasia. Only
those with the epithet porphyrogennetos, could have never been accused
for such an ignominious act. Among many of them present in the Alexiad,
Constantine Doukas was undoubtedly the leading one.
In his logos, Theophylaktos dwells on Constantine Doukas’ imperial right.
Possibly, the main cause for the speech was to position and counterbalance
Constantine in relation to Alexios. It was most probably composed by the
order of Maria of Alania, who features prominently in this text and her influ-
ence is observable.202 Conclusion of Stanković that ‘through adoption Alexios
had become commensurate with the imperial pretensions of Constantine
Doukas’203 is very useful for understanding Anna’s political ideas promoted
through constant emphasis laid on Constantine’s porphyrogennesis. Alexios’
adoption raised him in relation to Constantine, but he was not born in the
purple, wherefore he could have never reached the same level as his rival
contestant.
The motif of Constantine’s imperial right is highlighted also in the Eulogy
of George Tornikes for Anna Komnene. Rhetorical artistry of Tornikes was
focused on his basileia, and the fact that he was the third ruler from the
Doukai’s dynasty. In only one passage Tornikes succeeded in abridging the
whole idea that is also found in the Alexiad and deals with Constantine
Doukas, his connection to Anna Komnene, her own imperial right, followed
with shrouded critique of her father who seised the throne by force:
What her brother was among the men, she was among the women. He
was crowned with the royal diadem and imperial emblems and she was
201 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p.195 (21-23).

202 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē p. 188-192; On Theophylaktos’ connection with Maria of
Alania see Mullett, 1997, p. 180, 182, 192, 196, 213.
203 Stanković, 2006, p. 35.
betrothed to then emperor’s co-ruler (τῷ συνθρόνῳ τότε τῶν βασιλέων

βασιλεῖ πρὸς γάμον μεμνήστευτο), with whom she was crowned together
(καὶ συνέστεπτο) […]. The emperor’s daughter was betrothed then to the
son of the emperor, and to the ruling emperor’ (μνηστεύεται τοίνυν υἱῷ
βασιλέως καὶ βασιλεῖ βασιλέως θυγάτηρ βασίλλισα).204
Anna Komnene had wisely deployed the allusion about Alexios’ forceful
seisure of the imperial power by putting Constantine’s imperial right to
the center of the Komnenian insurrection. His imperial right was defined
by the term porphyrogennetos that served to denote Constantine’s basileia.
According to that, I argue that the only mention of Konstantios Doukas in
the Alexiad is connected to the motif of Constantine’s porphyrogennesis. It
was a precise historical moment when Constantine had become the only
surviving legitimate male successor of the Doukai’s, since Konstantios
Doukas lost his life on the battlefield. I would not consider it coincidental
that Anna chose to mention precisely this event in her history, and that the
only mention of Konstantios Doukas is the one that relates to his death.
The beauty of Constantine Doukas

In case of the insufficiency of the deeds that would account for one’s virtue,
a rhetor could use various sorts of rhetorical devices in order to extol his
protagonist. Thus, the eidos, someone’s appearance and nature, was sub-
jected to rhetorical embellishment for purposes of praise. With regards to
Constantine Doukas, detailed descriptions of his physique were used as a
literary substitute for absence of his heroic deeds. His physical beauty was
used as a plausible reason for his nobility, that is, for his legitimacy. This
style was drawn from the rhetorical treatise on how to praise the emperor
of Menander Rhetor who stressed physical appearance as one of the crucial
imperial virtues that conditioned the traits and qualities of his character.205
This was touched upon by Theophylaktos in his logos where he compared
the looks of the tyrant and of the righteous ruler, stating that ‘the appearance
of the tyrant is loathsome and doomed (εἶδες τὴν τυράννου μορφὴν ὡς βδελυρά
τε καὶ ἀποτρόπαιος). And look how the beauty of the emperor is alluring (τὸ τοῦ
βασιλέως κάλλος ὡς πολυπόθητον), and the most desired, (ὡς ἐράσμιον ἄντικρυς)
such as yours, if you prefer. And indeed, in the same manner I have described
204 Tornikès, Eloge, p. 251 (13.19).

205 Menander Rhetor, Basilikos logos, p. 371 (15.17), 82: ‘μετὰ τὴν γένεσιν ἐρεῖς τι καὶ περὶ φύσεως,
οἷον ὅτι ἐξέλαμψεν ἐξ ὠδίνων εὐειδὴς τῷ κάλλει καταλάμπων τὸ φαινόμενον ἀστερι καλλίστῳ τῶν
κατ΄οὐρανὸν ἐφάμιλλος’.
the emperor, I wrote about the tyrant, having taken emperor as his opposite’.206
In the same manner Anna talked about Constantine’s ‘celestial beauty’ (οὐράνιόν
τι καὶ οὐκ ἐπίγειον κάλλος),207 carefully constructing her own basilikos logos.
Two times Anna referred to Constantine’s beauty. In book I, she states
that he was: ‘Nature’s masterpiece, a triumph, as it were, of God’s handiwork.
One look at him would convince anyone that here was a descendant of the
mythical Golden Age of the Greeks, so infinite was his charm’.208
Anna’s stress on Constantine’s comeliness suggests that he was worthy of
the imperial honour in the same manner as Psellos’ talked about the suitors
of the empress Zoe that were all distinguished by their physical beauty.
Hatzaki concluded that this account in Chronographia alludes to so-called
beauty contests in which the most beautiful girl was chosen to be married
to the emperor, although in this particular case the roles were reversed.209
And albeit this beauty contest was most probably a literary construct, it
surely displayed the importance of the beauty in the discursive register of
the Byzantines.210 It was a formula used for a particular reason. The reason
was most commonly connected with one’s eligibility for the highest honor.211
In the book III Anna elaborated further the care of Maria of Alania for
her charming son, giving a more detailed description of him:
It was delightful enough to hear him speak, but that was not all: his
extraordinary agility and suppleness made him unrivalled at games, if
one is to believe what his companions in those days said later. He was
blond, with a skin as white as milk, his cheeks suffused with red like some
dazzling rose that has just left its calyx. His eyes were not light-coloured,
but hawk-like, shining beneath the brows, like a precious stone set in a
golden ring. Thus, seemingly endowed with a heavenly beauty not of this
world, his manifold charms, captivated the beholder; in short, anyone
who saw him would say: “He is like the painter’s Cupid.” That was the true
reason for the empress’ continued presence in the palace.212
206 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p. 199 (22-26).

207 Alexias, III 1,3 (40), p. 88.
208 Alexiad, p. 58; Alexias, I 12,3 (80.83), p. 40: ‘ὡς ἄγαλμα φύσεως ἦν ὁ νεανίας ἐκεῖνος καὶ Θεοῦ
χειρῶν, ὡς οὕτως εἰπεῖν, φιλοτίμημα. Εἰ γὰρ καὶ μόνον ἐθεάσατό τις αὐτόν, εἶπεν ἂν ὡς τοῦ παρ’ Ἕλλησι
μυθευομένου χρυσοῦ γένους ἀπορροή· οὕτως ἀμήχανον εἶχε τὸ κάλλος’.
209 Hatzaki, 2011, p. 237.
210 cf. Hatzaki, 2011, p. 237.
211 Hatzaki, 2011, p. 239.
212 Alexiad, p. 104; Alexias, III 1,3 (34.41): ‘Ἡδὺ μὲν οὐκ ἐν λόγοις μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐν παντοίαις
κινήσεσι καὶ περιστροφαῖς παιγνίων ἀπαράμιλλον, ὡς οἱ τότε παρόντες ὕστερον ἔλεγον, ξανθὸν καὶ
λευκὸν ὥσπερ γάλα, ἐρυθήματος μεστόν, ὅπου δέοι, καὶ ὁποῖον τὰ τῶν καλύκων ἄρτι ἐξαστράπτοντα
Among many qualities the author could ascribe to this character, physical
comeliness was exclusively linked to Constantine. Beauty was the only
feature that asserted per se the inborn qualities of the person who possessed
it.213 This extensive passage on Constantine’s demeanor is used to explain
Maria’s constant fear for her son. Also, this ekphrasis was used to move the
audience in favour of Constantine and to raise their approval of the recounted
events. In the similar manner, Alexios’ took care of Emperor Diogenes’ sons
‘partly because they were exceptionally handsome and strong’.214 Action for
the cause of protecting the beauty and the beautiful was part of a common
discursive register and Anna deployed it as a perfectly understandable
reason for her protagonists’ actions. In addition, Constantine beauty was
also part of the rhetorical register reserved for imperial personages. In this
sense in particular, Anna referred to Constantine’s beauty – to assert once
more his imperial eidos. A clear intention of the author was to magnify
Constantine, through the emphasis on his celestial nature that alludes to
the nobility of his ancestry and his predestination to becoming an emperor.
Michael Psellos also employed and elaborated in his Chronographia this
kind of literary style, for the rhetorical and philosophical presentation of
Byzantine emperors, the ruling paradigms and their antinomies.215 Psellos
account of the newly born imperial baby,216 Constantine Doukas, resounds
in the Alexiad also. His description of the baby’s comeliness might recall
also his description of the beauty of Constantine Dalassenos, who, while still
ῥόδα. Οἱ δὲ ὀφθαλμοὶ οὐ λευκοί, ἀλλ’ ἱέρακος ἐοικότες καὶ λάμποντες ὑπὸ ταῖς ὀφρύσιν ὥσπερ ἐν χρυσῇ
σφενδόνῃ. Κἀντεῦθεν ποικίλαις τέρψεσι τέρπον τοὺς ὁρῶντας οὐράνιόν τι καὶ οὐκ ἐπίγειον κάλλος
δοκοῦν καὶ τὸ ὅλον, εἶπεν ἄν τις ἰδὼν ὁποῖον τὸν Ἔρωτα γράφουσιν’.
213 cf. Hatzaki, 2009, p. 1-58.
215 Although Psellos’ characterisation did not depend wholly on the physiognomy. Lauritzen
concludes that Psellos’ respects the rules of physiognomy – Lauritzen, 2013, 50-54, 92-98 – but
Repajić confronts his opinion – Repajić, 2016, 83-88, esp. no.296 – with regard to the presentation
of Constantine IX Monomachos and the Doukai, considering those portrayals ironic. Neverthe-
less, Psellos’ insistence on comeliness of these characters presents his deep understanding of
physiognomy and thus, invests the whole imagery with his irony.
216 Psellos, Chronografia, VII 12:’ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ εἶδος καὶ τὸ ἐμφαινόμενον ἦθος, ὡς οἷόν τε καὶ ἀπὸ
τούτων <ἐμφαίνειν> τὴν ἐγκαθημένην ψυχὴν, οὔπω γὰρ οἶδα τοιοῦτον κάλλος ἐπίγειον· τὸ μὲν γὰρ
πρόσωπον αὐτῷ εἰς ἀκριβῆ κύκλον ἀποτετόρνευται, οἱ δὲ ὀφθαλμοὶ γλαυκοὶ καὶ εὐμεγέθεις καὶ γαλήνης
μεστοὶ, αἵ τε ὀφρύες εὐθεῖαι γραμμαὶ ἀτεχνῶς, περὶ μὲν τὴν βάσιν τῆς ῥινὸς βραχύ τι διεστῶσαι, περὶ δὲ
τοὺς κροτάφους ἠρέμα κάμπτουσαι· ἡ δὲ ῥὶς ἐλευθέρα μὲν τοὺς μυκτῆρας, ἀλλ’ ἀρχομένη μὲν βραχύ τι
ἐγεί-ρεται, προϊοῦσα δὲ ἐς ἄκρον ἐμφαίνει τι τοῦ γρυποῦ· τῆς τε κεφαλῆς ἡλιῶσα θρὶξ ἐξανθεῖ· καὶ τὼ
χείλη λεπτώ τε τούτῳ, καὶ <τὸ ὄμμα> βλέπον ἡδὺ καὶ ἀγγέλων ἡδύτερον, καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν ἀπὸ τούτου
ἐμφαῖνον οὔτε καταβεβλημένην οὔτε ἐπιβεβλημένην, ἀλλὰ πρᾳεῖαν μὲν, θείῳ δὲ διεγηγερμένην
κινήματι’.
a boy was endowed with such a beauty that ‘rumor had it he was destined
for the highest honors’.217
It seems that Anna relied stylistically and chronologically on Psellos’ ex-
position on Constantine Doukas, and continued the story that was abruptly
interrupted in Chronographia. Also, Anna’s description of a newly born John
Komnenos looks as if it was constructed as an antipode to Psellos’ description
of Constantine. The description of Constantine was deployed to assert his
imperial right, whereas John’s description was used to disqualify his.
Concise Tornikes merged these allusions in a description of Constantine
Doukas through the following formula: ‘the one with the beautiful appear-
ance, imperial soul, firm strenght and manly spirit’ (ὡραῖον τὴν ὄψιν, βασιλικὸν
τὴν ψυχήν, στερρὸν τὴν ἰσχυν, ἀνδρικὸν τὸ φρόνημα).218
The distorted picture of Constantine Doukas in the Alexiad did not
answer directly the questions about his loss of the imperial position, his
highly probable participation in the Diogenes conspiracy and his untimely
death. All these crucial events that would enable us to reconstruct the
first decade of Alexios’ rule and the sudden upheaval in the year of 1094,
are intentionally blurred. Maybe Constantine’s historical role was not so
passive at all, as presented in the Alexiad. Nevertheless, there was more
important agenda in presenting him as inactive character, who is featured
in Anna’s story solely by virtue of his innate basileia, that actually never
came to an end in the Alexiad.
Maria of Alania
Albeit too generally, but undoubtedly wittily and meaningful, Margaret

Mullett has described complicated familial policies from the end of 80s of
11th century – ‘if you want to get ahead get a mother: and Alexios had two’.219
Particularity of Anna’s position lied in the fact that two empresses also
raised her: ‘From my early girlhood, before I was eight years old, I was brought
up by the empress [Maria of Alania]. (ἐκ παιδαρίου συναναστραφεῖσα τῇ
βασιλίδι καὶ οὔπω τὸν ὄγδοον ὑπερελάσασα χρόνον)’.220
That sentence presents a starting point for investigating the relationship
between Maria of Alania and Anna Komnene. Thus, even more important
217 Psellos , Chronographia (S), p. 160

218 Tornikès, Eloge, p. 251, 22.23.
219 Mullett, 1994, p. 262.
220 Alexiad, p.104-105; Alexias, III 1,4 (46.48), p.88
is the image of Maria of Alania in the Alexiad and the aim behind that
particular picture of this empress.
Maria of Alania presents a protagonist of the first three books of the
Alexiad, after which we encounter her again in the book IX, which is also the
last reference to her. Although statistically she is not enumerated among the
omnipresent characters of the Alexiad, the role and the influence ascribed
to her in relation to Komnenian insurrection, single her out as one of the
highly memorable characters of the Alexios reign.221
Maria’s presence in the Alexiad certainly has solid historical basis.222
Nevertheless, as it is case with previously analyzed characters, there are
some nuances in the literary presentation, which are strictly due to Anna’s
personal inclinations. Empress Maria stands in the center of conspiracy
against the emperor Nikephoros III Botaneiates. Yet, that sedition presents
a plexus of confusing circumstances which are not clearly recounted even
in the Alexiad. This situation in the first three books of the Alexiad could
be explained from the standpoint of Anna’s intention to focalise the Doukai
throughout the whole story of Alexios’ ascendancy. Some uncertainties
derive from the author’s masterly attempt to exempt the Doukai from any
initiative in dethronement of Botaneiates. Even Maria of Alania, whose fear
for her young son presents the reason for Komnenian action, is not presented
as an instigator of these actions. It was rather contrary – because of their
close connection to the empress, the Komnenians decided to protect her.
That peculiar connection between her and future emperor Alexios is one
of the stories, which differ in Anna’s and Bryennios’ histories. One would
expect from two spouses to deliver the same story of this affair, but they
did not. Again, of the greatest interest for us is the reason for two different
narrative landscapes for the same story.
The problem of adoption

Concerning the question of Alexios’ adoption, the focus of scholarly attention
was put on the role and significance of adoption, regarded in wider historical
context.223 However, its timeframe and circumstances are still rather vague.
221 cf. for instance Lynda Garland’s discussion on Alexios’ empresses, where Maria of Alania
comes first – Garland, 180-199, esp. 180-186.
222 As Margaret Mullett put it ‘Her political influence in the years 1074-1094 is out of question’ –
Mullett, Disgrace, 202. The sphere of her influence was in the field of literary patronage – Mullett,
1984a, p. 173-201.; She was also among influential addresses of the Theophylaktos, the archbishop
of Ochrid – Mullett, 1997, p. 34, 36, 51, 70, 88, 96, 150, 184, 188, 196, 213, 232, 261, 271. and also,
Theophylaktos, Lettres, p. 81-84.
223 Macrides, 1990, p. 109-118; Mullett, 1984b, p. 202.
Anna is explicit that the first phase of Komnenian propinquity with

Maria of Alania pertains to elder brother, Isaac, who ‘had already achieved
success, for he had been chosen by her to marry her own cousin. (ὁ Ἰσαάκιος
πάλαι πρὸς αὐτῆς ἐπὶ τῇ ἰδίᾳ ἐξαδέλφῃ εἰς κῆδος προσληφθείς)’.224 Afterwards,
because ‘Alexios had supported him in the matter of this marriage, he was
zealous that Alexios should not be less in favour with the empress. […]’225
Bryennios delivers this story through the different discourse. He focuses
on the act of the emperor Michael VII who ‘took for himself Maria, the
daughter of the Iberian ruler and her cousin Eirene, the daughter of the
exousiastes of Alania, he gave to Isaac, the elder son of the kouropalatissa’.226
For Anna, the initiator of the affinity between the empress and the Kom-
nenians was Maria of Alania,227 during the reign of the emperor Botaneiates.
Contrary to that, Bryennios account puts this story in the chronological
setting of Michael VII reign, and the very act is ascribed to the emperor
Michael, and not to Maria. In Bryennios story, Maria is an object, whereas
the subject is the emperor. This marriage connection is told in relation to
Michael’s indemnity for banishment of Anna Dalassene and her sons to the
island of Prinkipo. Michael VII recalled Dalassene from exile and restored
the Komnenians in Constantinople. Furthermore, Bryennios stressed that
precisely through that marriage relationship the Komnenians became part
of Michael VII’s oikos – ‘διὰ κήδους αὐτοὺς ἑαυτῷ οἰκειοῦται’.228
Anna’s perspective is significantly different, and the agency is given solely
to Maria of Alania. Details of Michael VII’s closeness to the Komnenians are
completely left out at the expense of Maria of Alania. She presents a literary
substitute for the emperor Michael VII. This situation corresponds with the
already mentioned emphasis put on Constantine Doukas in comparison to Kon-
stantios Doukas, and Anna’s wholehearted favoritism of Maria and Constantine.
Because of this we are faced with chronological inconsistencies regarding the
timeframe of adoption that most probably occurred around 1080.229
224 Alexiad, p. 74; Alexias, II 1,4 (37.38), p. 74.

225 Alexiad, p. 74.
226 ‘γήμας γὰρ αὐτὸς πρότερον τὴν Παγκράτειαν τοῦ Ἰβήρων κατάρχοντος θυγατέρα Μαρίαν, τὴν
ἐκείνης ἐξαδέλφην Εἰρήνην τὴν θυγατέρα τοῦ Ἀλανίας ἐξουσιάζοντος τῷ πρεσβυτέρῳ τῶν παίδων τῆς
κουροπαλατίσσης Ἰσαακίῳ πρὸς γάμου κοινωνίαν ἐκδίδωσιν’ – Bryennios, Histoire, II (9.13), p. 143.
227 Cf. Stanković, 2007, p. 171.
228 Bryennios, Histoire, II (8.9), p. 143. Further in the text Bryennios emphasises Isaac’s affiliation
to Michael’s oikos as the main reason for denominating Isaac as great domestic of the East,
wherefore he was endowed with the comand in the war against the Turks. – Bryennios, Histoire,
II, (3.6), p. 147: ‘τὸν Κομνηνὸν Ἰσαάκιον, ὃν διὰ κήδους ἑαυτῷ ᾠκειώσατο, δομέστικον τῶν Σχολῶν τῆς
ἀνατολῆς καταστήσας, αὐτοκράτορα στρατηγὸν τοῦ κατὰ Τούρκων πολέμου τοῦτον ἐκπέπομφεν’.
229 Cf. Stanković, 2006, p. 35, no.36.
Alexios’ adoption by Maria of Alania is mentioned in Bryennios history

briefly and chronologically quite distant from Isaac’s marriage to Eirene – ‘εἶτα
τὸν Κομνηνὸν Ἀλέξιον υἱοθετηθέντα τῇ βασιλίδι Μαρίᾳ δομέστικον τῶν Σχολῶν
ἀποδείξας τῆς δύσεως’.230 If we choose to follow Bryennios’ chronology and
to supplement it with the information from the Alexiad, the reconstructed
picture would be following: amnesty of Anna Dalassene was confirmed
through Isaac’s marriage with Maria of Alania’s cousin. It was the first step
in the rise of Isaac Komnenos, entrusted with the command in the war
against the Turks, under the title of domestic of the East. He was reassigned
to Antioch, from which he returned in 1078. Upon arrival, the title of sebastos
was bestowed on him by the emperor Nikephoros Botaneiates, which also
brought him a chamber in the palace.231 Those events are recounted in the
final chapter of Bryennios history that does not provide any information on
the agreement between Maria of Alania and Alexios Komnenos.
Anna is quite clear that the main responsible person for Maria’s adoption
of Alexios was Isaac Komnenos – ‘Not long afterwards the officers of the
gynaikonitis on the advice of Isaac cajoled the empress to adopt Alexios as
her son’.232 Through this marriage, Isaac was able to recommend his brother
to Maria of Alania.
In Anna’s story, Michael VII and Anna Dalassene are excluded as primary
responsible for this marriage and Maria of Alania actually took over the role
of the initiator in this story from the side of the Doukai. According to Anna,
the adoption accomplished during the reign of the emperor Botaneiates
enabled the Komnenoi to attend court more often. Ann put the focus of her
narration on their connection with the empress Maria of Alania in particular.
Isaac’s position at the court related strictly to the empress.
Yet, we read from other sources that Isaac’s military carrier and rise in
the aristocratic strata, started due to Michael VII’s will. Isaac became a
member of Botaneiates’ oikos, once he was granted chambers in the palace.
Although Anna does not contradict these facts in her account, she intention-
ally changes the focus, and sheds light solely on the empress. Zonaras’
information that Botaneiates had chosen the Komnenoi as his successors
is not featured in the pages of Alexiad.233 However, this is not coincidental,
but rather intentional omission of our author, since she aimed at Maria’s
230 Bryennios, Histoire, IV (16.18), p. 259.

231 Bryennios, Histoire, IV (3.6), p. 299.
232 Alexiad, p. 74; Alexias, II 1,5 (50.53), p. 56: ‘τὰ μὲν οὖν κατὰ τὸν Ἰσαάκιον οὕτως ἐκ θείας
ᾠκονόμητο προνοίας. οὐ πολὺ τὸ ἐν μέσῳ, καὶ οἱ περὶ τὴν γυναικωνίτιν ταῖς τοῦ Ἰσαακίου ὑποθημοσύναις
παραπείθουσι τὴν βασιλίδα υἱοθετήσασθαι τὸν Ἀλέξιον’.
233 Zonaras, XVIII 19, 14, p. 726.
agency and her connection with the Komnenoi. Maria’s emperors – Michael
VII and Botaneiates respectively – were of secondary importance in Anna
Komnene’s account. Thus, we face the same story shaped according to
different discourses – those of Bryennios and Anna. The main reason for
that lied in the personal ties between Anna Komnene and Maria of Alania.
In addition, a gendering of her narrative, which presents one of the core
elements of Anna’s literary style, again comes to the fore. Women of Anna’s
house have prominent roles in her narrative, and in certain occasions,
they are ascribed the leading roles, while men are overshadowed. A simple
change from object to subject on the syntactic level aimed at presenting
female protagonists as crucial actors in very important events of Alexios’
life and reign. This narrative technique is precisely dominant in case of
Maria of Alania.
Adoption of Alexios was performed according to the ‘old custom’ (περὶ τῶν
τοιούτων πάλαι τύπον), and from that moment on, domestic of the West,234
that is Alexios, was released from the anxiety and felt free to attend the
emperor and the empress undisturbed (ἀνέσφηλε γοῦν τοῦ λοιποῦ τῆς πολλῆς
φροντῖδος ὁ μέγας τῶν ἑσπερίων στρατευμάτων δομέστικος).235 Anna’s particular
addition was that after a private audience with the imperial couple, the
Komnenoi would attend the empress alone, which flared up envy (φθόνος)
against them.236 This way, Maria of Alania was brought in the focus of
narration as the one of whose influence depended Komnenian position
at the court. The empress had become not only a warranty for the leading
military positions but she was also the reason for the conspiracy contrived
by Borilos and Germanos against Komnenian brothers.
The double-sided role of Maria of Alania – as intimately close associate,
but also as a potential threat – has remained characteristic of this protago-
nist in the Alexiad. Certain ambivalence of this character is observable in
Anna’s testimony that Maria gave crucial support to Alexios mutiny and
subsequently one sort of legitimacy to his whole endeavour, where, on the
other hand, she presented a serious threat to Eirene Doukaina’s confirmation
as the next augousta.
234 This command place, according to the Alexiad, was given to Alexios immediately before
the adoption – he was firstly named as ‘strategos autokrator’ by the emperor Botaneiates, and
afterwards comes the story about adoption. In Bryeenios’ history, this is presented as a causal
story – cf. Alexias, II 1,3 sq. and Bryennios, Histoire, IV (16.18), p. 259.
235 Alexias, II 1,5 (55.57), p. 56-57.
236 Alexias, II 1,5 (56.59), p. 57: ‘Κἄκτοτε θαμὰ τοῖς βασιλείοις ἄμφω φοιτῶντες καὶ τὴν τοῖς βασιλεῦσι
προσήκουσαν ἀποπληροῦντες προσκύνησιν καὶ μικρὸν ἐγκαρτεροῦντες τῇ βασιλίδι προσήρχοντο·
ταῦτα ἐπὶ πλέον τὸν κατ’ αὐτῶν φθόνον ἐξέκαε’.
Closeness between Maria of Alania and Alexios Komnenos

A very interesting circumstance that outlines the multilayered relation
among Anna, Maria and Eirene, with regard to their mutual relationship
with Alexios is presented in the alleged closeness between Alexios and Maria
that we encounter, paradoxically, only in the Alexiad, and not anywhere else.
The most important question that arises from this rather intriguing
episode is why only Anna Komnene felt the need to recount the rumors
about Alexios and Maria. When she addressed that sensitive issue, she did
so to refute the whole story:
As I have said, many people were suspicious when the empress stayed
on there and they suggested in an underhand way that the new emperor
[Alexios] intended to marry her. The Doukas family believed no such thing
(they were not carried away by chance rumors) but they knew that the
mother of the Komnenoi had for a long time been undisguisedly hostile
to themselves.237
It seems as if this story was still current in the time when Anna was writing
the Alexiad. Yet, this is less likely the case. As I have already stressed, Anna
was most probably writing an answer to Zonaras’ account of Alexios reign.
His most problematic passages were those that dealt with close family
relations, where he aimed against Eirene Doukaina. Only one passage in
Zonaras’ history can be related to Anna’s mention of this rumor. When he
speaks about relationship between Alexios and Eirene he states that the
spouses were firstly remote due to Alexios love affairs and that only after
he had started to feel first symptoms of his illness they became closer.238
Zonaras’ concise and brief presentations of the conjugal relationship
between the emperor and the empress present the core of Anna’s presentation
of the same issue. Her exposition of this story is actually an answer to the
disparaging image he intended to present. Some striking similarities concern
precisely the character of Eirene Doukaina. Anna felt the need, or was ordered
to, to describe ‘how it really was’. Thus, the focus in her story was put on the
enmity between Anna Dalassene and Caesar John Doukas, whereas not the
slightest allusion of the conflict between her ‘two mothers’. Maria’s political
threat was most probably resolved by the imposed taking of monastic habit,
which we find desrcibed in those terms in Zonaras’ history. Whereas Anna
does not mention Maria of Alania’s withdrawal from secular life in any

238 Zonaras, XVIII, 24, 2-6, p. 747.
way, Theophylaktos of Ochrid particularly dwelt on this side of her life. He

explicitly stressed that Maria’s withdrawal happened without any external
pressure, that it was not imposed on her, but quite the contrary – that it was
her own decision, coming from her sincere commitment to higher life.239
Theophylaktos’ elaborate explanation of Maria’s decision to retire from
secular life focuses on the crucial problem with clear intention of the rhetor
to redeem his patroness. In the time when Alexios was establishing his
rule, and when Constantine was still his ruling associate, one would not
expect an open blame. Yet, the amount of the text focused on this issue
certainly calls for readers’ attention. As an answer to Theophylaktos’ basilikos
logos that, by its generic frame, presupposes all sorts of distortions and
embellishments, Zonaras delivered quite blatantly the explanation of her
withdrawal from secular life as the thing that ‘was done half willingly and
half involuntarily’.240 Finally, Anna chose to pass this event to silence, since
she did not intend to raise any suspicion in politically disputable behaviour
about any of her key protagonists.
The timeframe of Maria of Alania’s withdrawal from secular life is
possible to outline. It is highly probable that it came as a consequence of
Alexios’ ascent to power and Eirene Doukaina’s coronation, maybe under
the pressure of Caesar John Doukas. Even though Zonaras recounts events
as if Maria’s taking of monastic habit related to Constantine’s loss of the
imperial prerogatives, Theophylaktos of Ochrid’ logos refutes this conclusion
since it was composed during Constantine’s co-rulership with Alexios.241
Nevertheless, as much as Anna was determined to counteract the effects
of Zonaras’ account, she did not pass into silence the problematic situation of
Maria’s retention in the palace, which certainly speaks in favour to relation-
ship between her and Alexios. She, nevertheless, explained that through
Maria’s fear for her beautiful son, through ploy with ekphrasis intention-
ally placed in this part of the text to persuade the audience in her truthful
testimony by arousing their emotions instead of reasonable judgment. In
addition, she placed herself as the crucial witness of Maria’s innocence. After
describing Constantine’s beauty and Maria’s motherly fear she concluded:
239 Theophylaktos, Paideia Basilikē, p.187.

240 Zonaras is not precise with regards to timeframe of Maria’s withdrawal from secular life. It
seems more as if that event is tied with Constantine’s loss of the imperial prerogatives – ‘μετὰ
δέ τινα χρόνον καὶ ἡ μήτηρ αὐτοῦ μετημφιάσθη, μέλαν ἐνδῦσα χρῶμα κατὰ τοὺς μοναχούς, τὸ μὲν
ἑκοῦσα, τὸ δέ τι τυραννουμένη. καὶ ὁ παῖς ἀφῃρέθη τὰ περιπόρφυρα πέδιλα καὶ μόνῳ τῷ Κομνηνῷ ἡ
τῆς αὐταρχίας κλῆσις καὶ ἡ βασιλεία περιελέλειπτο’ – Zonaras XVIII 21, 7-20 (16.20), p. 733.
241 According to Theophylaktos, Maria had taken a monastic vow in the Mangana – Theophy-
laktos, Paideia Basilikē, I, p. 186 (13) – cf. Mullett, 1984, p. 207.
That was the true reason for the empress’ continued presence in the palace.
For my own part, I am in any case naturally averse to slanders of the mob.
As a matter of fact, I have other reasons to believe I know the truth in this
affair: from my early girlhood, before I was eight years old, I was brought up
by the empress. She was very fond of me and shared all her secrets with me.
I have heard many others speak of these things with different accounts, as
some interpreted the events of that time in one way, and others in another;
each followed his own inclination, influenced by sympathy or hatred, and I
saw that they were not all of one mind. Moreover, I have on several occasions
heard the empress herself describe in detail all that happened to her and how
frightened she was, in particular for her son, when the Emperor Nikephoros
abdicated. Indeed, in my opinion and in the opinion of most people who
care for the truth and are best qualified to judge, it was love for her child
(ὁ τοῦ παιδὸς πόθος) that kept her then for a little while in the palace.242
If the rumor about the alleged affair between Alexios and Maria, or about his
intention to marry her is close to the truth, which is highly probable, than
Anna certainly had a lot of work to do in order to cover it up. Paradoxically,
this was not the only place where Anna referred to those gossips. In the
opening chapter of the Book III, Anna stated following:
In fact though, the real cause which determined her [Maria of Alania’s]
actions was not one generally condemned by society [which one is that?],
nor was it the attractive and friendly nature of those persons [Alexios and
Isaac], but the fact that she was in a foreign country, without relatives,
without friends, with nobody whatever of her own folk. Naturally she did
not wish to leave the palace hurriedly; she feared that some evil might
befall the child, if she went before receiving some guarantee of safety.243
242 Alexiad, p. 104-105; Alexias, III 1,4 (41.58), p. 89: ‘αὕτη ἡ ἀληθὴς αἰτία τῆς εἰς τὰ βασίλεια τῆς
βασιλίδος ἐγκαρτερίας. ἐγὼ γὰρ καὶ ἄλλως φύσει τὸ λογοποιεῖν καὶ καινά τινα ἀναπλάττειν ἀποστρέφομαι
εἰδυῖα τοῦτο σύνηθες εἶναι τοῖς πολλοῖς, καὶ μᾶλλον ὁπηνίκα ὑπὸ φθόνου καὶχαιρεκακίας ἁλίσκοιντο, καὶ
οὐ ταχὺ ταῖς διαβολαῖς συμφέρομαι τῶν πολλῶν·ἀλλὰ καὶ ἄλλοθεν τὴν ἐν τοῖς τοιούτοις ἀσφάλειαν ἔσχον
ἐκ παιδαρίου συνανα<σ>τραφεῖσα τῇ βασιλίδι καὶ οὔπω τὸν ὄγδοον ὑπερελάσασα χρόνον· πολὺ δὲ τὸ
περὶ ἐμὲ φίλτρον ἔχουσα τῶν ἀπορρήτων πάντων κεκοινώνηκε. καὶ πολλῶν μὲν καὶ ἄλλων περὶ τούτων
λεγόντων ἀκήκοα καὶ πρὸς ἀλλήλους διαφερομένων, τῶν μὲν οὕτως, τῶν δὲ οὕτως ἐκλαμβανομένων τὰ
τότε πραχθέντα, ἑκάστου πρὸς τὴν ἰδίαν τῆς ψυχῆς κατάστασιν καὶ ὡς πρὸς αὐτὴν εὐνοίας ἢ μίσους εἶχε,
καὶ οὐ πάντας τῆς αὐτῆς ἑώρων γνώμης. ἠκηκόειν δὲ πολλάκις καὶ αὐτῆς διηγουμένης,ὁπόσα ξυμβέβηκεν
αὐτῇ καὶ εἰς οἷον φόβον καὶ μᾶλλον περὶ τοῦ παιδὸς ἐμπεπτώκει, ὁπηνίκα ὁ βασιλεὺς Νικηφόρος τὴν
βασιλείαν ἀπετίθετο, καὶ κατά γε ἐμὲ κριτὴν καὶ τοὺς πολλοὺς τῶν ἀρίστων καὶ ἀληθείας ἐπιμελουμένων
ὁ τοῦ παιδὸς πόθος αὐτὴν ἐν τοῖς βασιλείοις πρὸς ὀλίγον τῷ τότε κατέσχηκεν’.
The careful reading of these passages suggests that this story was actually
the core of the Book III, but it was not touched upon the author later, since
the focus on the strife between the Doukai and the Komnenoi was turned
towards Caesar John and Anna Dalassene, leaving Maria of Alania out of
this conflict. Yet, how the Βook III opens up enables us to conjecture the
author’s aim behind the construction of the narrative in these parts of the
text. Every move of Maria of Alania is expressed through the formula of
a mother that cared for a beloved son. In addition to this, Anna sought to
present Maria as a foreigner, without any significant support in the city. Yet,
her political career is not compatible with Anna’s description imbued with
feminine pathos. Maria outmaneuvered one of the most powerful women
based on their Constantinopolitan roots and familial relations, Eudokia
Makrembolitissa, and kept her position stable in the most turbulent period
of the 11th century. Albeit Maria’s position might be due to powerful hand of
Caesar John Doukas, who stood behind her for his own reasons, she takes
credit at least for a political sense with whom to side. Notwithstanding
this, she established again the fashion of the literary patronage, which was
a display of political power.
The final remarks on the placement of the members of the closest imperial
family, testify that there was certain segregation still present even after the
things had been settled:
As for Alexios, my father, who had meanwhile seised power, he came to

live in the palace. His wife, fifteen years old at the time, he left in the
‘lower palace’ with her sisters and mother and the Caesar, her grandfather
on the paternal side. This palace was so-called because of its position.
Alexios himself, with his brothers, his mother and his close relatives went
up to the higher palace, also called Boucoleon.244
In light of this, the whole situation becomes much clearer and especially
Caesar John’s insistence on Maria’s withdrawal from the palace. The Doukai
and the Komnenoi continued their joint rule in the disjointed spatial set-
tings – each family had their own palace. One might wonder how they
actually came to terms in the end. With Maria of Alania still present, it
is possible to add the third power source from which the political strings
were pulled until 1094, which should be used as a definite turning point
in Alexios’ establishment of his rule. Until then, Constantine, although
deprived of his rights, was still living and politically present. After the plot

in which his mother and most probably he himself had significant roles,
Komnenoi could aim for establishment of a dynasty. Yet, it seems that the
segregation between these two families described in this passage through
their placement in different mansions, was never surmounted.
Anna’s subtle allusions to this strife between the two families were
intentional. In addition, Anna’s ekphrasis on physical appearance of Maria
of Alania was probably not coincidentally placed very close to the ekphraseis
on physical appearance of the imperial couple. Alexios stood in between
two juxtaposed empresses, both structurally and ideally.
By contrasting the descriptions of Maria of Alania and Eirene Doukaina,
an imbedded message of the author becomes luminous. Both are described
with usual rhetorical topoi, which give them very similar features – Maria
is revived statue (ἄγγαλμα ἔμψυχον), whereas Eirene is the statue of beauty
(ἄγγαλμα καλλονῆς); Maria’s glance is bluish-grey (βλέμμα χαροπόν), and
Eirene’s eyes are also bluish-grey (ὄμμα δὲ χαροπόν). Both had a round face,
but not in the shape of a perfect circle (πρόσωπον κύκλον μὲν οὐκ ἀπαρτίζον/
τὸ πρόσωπον […] οὐ μὴν εἰς κύκλον ἀκριβῆ). In their proportions and limbs
(μελῶν καὶ μερῶν) they both had the perfect symmetry. Yet, there are several
distinctive differences in these desrciptions, which denote their ethos and
the manner of political influence. Maria’s agency was conditioned by her
marital relations and her beauty was deployed as the crucial reason for
being taken into the marriage by the emperor Botaneiates. In the same
fashion, the emphasis in her description was put on her exquisite beauty
and the allusion that she was embodiment of Desire (Ἵμερος γὰρ ἂντικρυς ἦν
σωματωθεις). Maria’s description was imbued with carnal, whereas Eirene’s
reaches its climax in the comparison with the goddess Athene (τἠν βασιλίδα
ταύτην Ἀθηνᾶν εἴ τις εἴπεν ἐν τοῖς τότε χρόνοις φανεῖσαν τῷ ἀνθρωπίνῳ βίῳ),
which was, apart from her wisdom, famous as the protector and follower of
the war heroes. It was precisely what Eirene in the Alexiad was – a guardian
and follower of Alexios’ on his war campaigns.245
Anna’s insistence on the physical beauty of Maria of Alania is very similar
in manner as in the case of Constantine Doukas. Mother and son are both
lauded mostly for their physical perfection, which was common denominator
for the imperial virtue and for the positive inference about their characters.
As Hatzaki concluded in her analysis on Psellos’ representation of the three
daughters of the emperor Constantine VIII, Eudokia’s beauty was spoiled
by smallpox, Theodora was not so beautiful, whereas Zoe ‘as a woman of
245 cf. Vilimonović, 2015, p. 25-26.

great beauty’ was inevitably destined to rule among three of them.246 That
was a usual manner of an author to acclaim the most suitable person for
the imperial officia. What is even more important, the physical beauty
was not exclusively bound to women, since perfection was the ultimate
demand for both genders in relation to supreme power. Yet, when dealing
with women especially, their comeliness was the common mark of their
supreme dignity.247 Anna delivered several vivid descriptions of physical
beauty among which the most alluring are those of Maria of Alania and
Constantine Doukas. In addition, one should never disregard the influ-
ence of such ekpraseis on the audience, because they were used precisely
for the reason of persuading the interlocutors or readers by evoking their
emotions.248 A case from Choniates’ history where the emperor Andronikos
ordered that empress Maria’s portrait should be marred ‘because he was
suspicious of the pity elicited by these radiant and very beautiful portrayals
worthy of the admiration of the passers-by’,249 speaks in favour of the influ-
ence that the beauty had on the beholders. It might sway their affection,
and that was the most powerful means for every rhetor in pursuit of his or
her audience’s sympathy.
Whatever the truth was behind Alexios and Maria’s story, it is interesting
that Anna dealt with this question at all. She could have omitted the whole
story if she wanted to, but she decided to address that issue, leaving the
audience in contemplation about its plausibility. The crucial thing is that,
if truthful, it certainly served to disparage Alexios to certain extent as an
unlawful husband. That was not a thing to be disregarded at all. The same
story we encounter in Zonaras’ account. It tells about conjugal detachment
between Alexios and Eirene. In the Alexiad this story was transfered to the
issue of Alexios hesitation in Eirene’s coronation. That was the clearest
reproach of our author. Alexios’ picture is neither unanimous nor completely
positive. That becomes apparent mostly in the chapters where she deals with
the Doukai. It is possible to draw a subsequent inference from this context.
Anna reproached her father when she dealt with her mother’s family. Her bias
246 Hatzaki, 2011, p. 236.

247 cf. Hatzaki, 2011, p. 240.
248 cf. Webb, 2009, p. 141-149.
249 Choniates, Transl. p. 183; As Hatzaki put it ‘by attacking the empress’ beauty depicted in
her image, Choniates presents Andronikos not only attempting to protect himself (from the
power of beauty to sway public opinion against him), but also endeavouring to strip Xene from
part of her own, legitimate imperial power’ – Hatzaki, 2011, p. 240. This was actually a literary
representation of an act of mutilation of the opponent in order to prevent him to aspire to the
highest honour.
was consistently attached to the Doukai. Literary virtuosity was displayed

in those parts where she needed to mitigate the breach between the two
branches of the Doukai that were equally important to her. She proved to
be virtuoso even in this matter.
Empress and the mother. A case of political usage of the term

The political activity of the empress Maria of Alania was displayed through
the use of certain words – empress (βασιλίς) and mother (μήτηρ), which are
also the epithets of the two other crucial female protagonists of the Alexiad,
Anna Dalassene and Eirene Doukaina.
It is not surprising that we encounter Maria as basilissa in the Aleixad.
She was endowed with this epithet even in the Book IX, when she was not
the ruling empress anymore.250 This peculiarity, however, is inconsistent
with Anna’s reference to the emperors who preceded Alexios. One might
add that the ruling empress was actually augousta, and that this title was
the only one that suggested the current state on the imperial position.251
Hill observed correctly that ‘far from applying basilissa widely, the history-
writers seem careful to use basilissa for the empress only’, whereas there
was a clear distinction between the use of the title augousta and basilissa
in case of which the former was the crowned and ruling empress only.252
This corresponds with the situation we encounter in the Alexiad, since
Eirene Doukaina is mostly referred to as augousta. Yet, there were several
distinctions among the writers. For instance, Zonaras explained that Anna
Dalassene only shared the title, but could not be called basilissa due to her
monastic habit. This occurrence is especially important for our case since
we know that Maria of Alania also succumbed to monastic life, and thus,
withdrew from the political power. Nevertheless, in the Alexiad, both cases
of monasticism were not mentioned, probably because of the practical
impediments imposed on Anna’s construction of female protagonists. Next,
although basilissa was more descriptive term and not strictly bound to
current empress, such is the case with augousta, we encounter in Zonaras
history a tendency of the author to be precise in his presentation of historical
events. He referred to Maria of Alania as the ‘former empress’ after the
coronation of Eirene Doukaina (ἡ δὲ πρῴην βασίλισσα ἡ ἐξ Ἀλανῶν Μαρία).253
This is very important indicator since it clearly denotes the translation of
250 Alexias, IX 5,5 (80), p. 269.

251 cf. analysis on the titles for imperial women by Hill, 1999, p. 96-119.
252 Hill, 1999, p. 109.
253 Zonaras, XVIII 21, 6, p. 733.
power, and the institution of the new empress. In case of the Alexiad, we
face no such consistency with regard to female characters. Even Anna
Dalassene was once denoted as basilissa, although she never bore that title
officially. However, when it comes to male characters, Anna is consistent in
her historical presentation, using the formula ‘the former emperor’ (actually
the participle of the verb προβασιλεύω) each time she referred to anyone
who ruled before Alexios, or who had already lost his imperial position. Ana
used this verb precisely in the following cases for the emperors:
– Isaac Komnnenos (ὁ τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος Ἰσαακίου Κομηννοῦ);254
– Romanos Diogenes (τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος Ῥωμανοῦ τοῦ Διογένους);255
– Nikephoros Botaneiates (ὑπὸ τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος Νικηφόρου τοῦ
Βοτανειάτου);256
– Michael Doukas (τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος Μιχαὴλ τοῦ Δούκα).257
The cases of Nikephoros Botaneiates and Michael Doukas are very signifi-
cant, since the Alexiad delivers a story about the change of their imperial
status. Botaneiates, as the ‘former emperor’ is mentioned in the Book V, and
his status is undoubtedly confirmed when Anna referred to his withdrawal
to a monastery at the beginning of the Book III with clear allusion that such
a state was a sign of political failure.258 Even more important is the case of
Michael VII Doukas mentioned with regard to his familial connection to
Nikephoros Diogenes:
[The empress] Maria had taken a personal interest in him [Diogenes],

because he was the brother of her husband, the former emperor Michael
VII Doukas, on the mother’s side, though they had different fathers.
(προεφθάκει γὰρ ἡ βασιλὶς Μαρία τοῦτον προσλαβέσθαι ἀδελφὸν ὄντα μητρόθεν
τοῦ προβεβασιλευκότος ἀνδρὸς αὐτῆς Μιχαὴλ τοῦ Δούκα, κἂν τὰ ἐς πατέρας
διήλλαττον)’.259
The empress Maria is here clearly juxtaposed to the ‘former emperor’

Michael. This shows that Anna consciously maneuvered with the term in
order to transmit a clear political message – her female protagonist was
254 Alexias, I 3,4 (82), p. 17; XI 1,6 (64), p. 324.

255 Alexias, II 1,1 (8), p. 55.
256 Alexias, V 1,4 (52), p. 142.
257 Alexias, IX 5,5 (81), p. 270.
258 Alexias, III 1,1 (12.16), p. 87.
259 Alexiad, p.280; Alexias, IX 5,5 (79.82), p. 270.
never deprived of her imperial position, however paradoxical that may be. In

addition, at the beginning of the Book III, Anna used following formulation:
In the meantime the empress Maria still remained in the palace with
her son Constantine, whom she bore to the previous emperor Michael
VII Doukas. (ἡ μέντοι βασιλὶς Μαρία συνάμα τῷ υἱῷ Κωνσταντίνῳ, ὅν ἐκ τοῦ
προβεβασιλευκότος Μιχαὴλ ἔσχε τοῦ Δούκα).260
The unclear circumstances of the change in the imperial status of Maria of

Alania upon Alexios’ rise to the imperial throne were not presented as an
issue. Anna just continued with her story about basilissa Maria, wherefore
the readership does not have any idea whether there were serious threats
to Maria’s position and what happened to it after the coronation of Eirene
Doukaina and institution of the new augousta. By division of these titles
among her female protagonists – despoina to Anna Dalassene, basilissa to
Maria of Alania and augousta to Eirene Doukaina – Anna Komnene did not
diverge much from the truth, but she subjected her ‘historicism’ to personal
political ideology. Anna maneuvered with the imperial titles in her text never
showing conflicting interests among her female protagonists and the causal
relationship among their rise to power and their loss of political influence.
Denomination of Maria of Alania as empress in the book IX suggests
that Anna did not use this title coincidentally, but instead she presented
her as an empress even after her son was deprived of his imperial status.
In connection to this, another term that denoted the most important role
of Maria of Alania in the Alexiad is also relevant for discussion. Maria’s
political role was presented through her motherly role. The word ‘mother’
bore a political connotation in the Alexiad and was used for the ‘mother of
the Komnenoi’, Anna Dalassene.261 This syntagma became a sort of unique
title connected exclusively to Dalassene, wherefore we should also inquire
about the two other prominent ‘mothers’ in the Alexiad. Since Maria’s agency
was attached to her motherly role towards porphyrogennetos Constantine, all
possible accusations on the ambitious nature of this empress were thwarted
in advance. Through the lenses of typical woman behaviour Anna explained
the ‘all natural’ political agency of her female protagonists.
Apart from Constantine, Maria was mother to two more crucial peo-
ple. She was adoptive mother of Alexios I Komnenos, and was almost
260 Alexiad, p. 103, Alexias, III 1,2 (19.21), p. 87.

261 I will discuss at length on Dalassene in the next Section. But for some introductory remarks
see Hill, 1999, p. 115-117.
mother-in-law to Anna Komnene, wherefore she acted as her custodian for

the first eight years of her life. Through these relations, the role of a mother
equalised with the role of a powerful political ally. The newly established
relationship between Alexios and Maria of Alania was used by Anna as
a powerful overture to Alexios’ predetermination for imperial throne (in
relation to his brother Isaac), and subsequently, it was stressed as one of
the crucial means for Alexios’ political legitimisation.
Anna’s reference that she was raised by the empress shows her wish to
assert her own legitimacy, through connection with the imperial branch of
the Doukai, which distinguished her from all other Komnenian porphyrogen-
netoi. She expressed her closeness to Maria and Constantine by the possessive
pronoun ‘my’ (τοὺς ἐμοὺς) when she addressed the issue of impartiality
regarding them: ‘and no one should blame me if I praise my own when the
nature of the case compels me (οὐ νέμεσις, εἰ τοὺς ἐμοὺς ἐπανοίην)’.262
The image of Maria of Alania would be completely partial had not been
there Anna Komnene’s Alexiad, where she was one of the three leading
female protagonists. It is indisputable that Maria’s political role was very
significant in the years described in the Alexiad, but the focalisation in
narration was solely due to our author’ personal ambitions. Nuances in
her characterisation, use of common rhetorical embellishments, and pres-
entation of Maria’s political activity through her role of a caring mother,
silence about her withdrawal from political scene and denial of her more
active collaboration in the Diogenes’ conspiracy are all elements of Anna’s
rhetorical mastery by which she succeeded in constructing a hero according
to her own judgment and personal inclination.
Eirene Doukaina
Creator of the Alexiad

The mother of Anna Komnene, the empress Eirene Doukaina, is the original
creator of the Alexiad.263 In the Prologue, Anna states that her husband,
Nikephoros Bryennios took the responsibility for writing a history by the
order of the empress Eirene Doukaina (ἐξ ἐπιταγῆς τῆς βασιλίδος). Further,
she attests that Eirene chose the beginning of history. It was supposed to
start from the reign of Romanos IV Diogenes (τῷ τῆς δεσποίνης ἡμῶν κἀν τούτῳ
ὑπείκων προστάγματι, ἀπὸ Διογένους τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος Ῥωμαίων ἀρξάμενος).264
262 Alexiad, p. 104; Alexias, III 1,3 (33), p. 88.

263 For Eirene Doukaina’s role in Anna’s literary endeavour see also Stanković, 2006, p. 190-193.
264 Alexias, Prol. 3,2 (64.66), p. 8.
After the death of Bryennios Anna took over the role of a writer of Alexios’
deeds, where he stopped ‘so that future generations may not be deprived
of knowledge about them’.265 This information suggests that the history of
Alexios’ reign originates from the circle of Eirene Doukaina. Even though
there was a possibility that Eirene’s wish might not have been fulfilled due
to untimely death of Bryennios, it was eventually accomplished through
the pen of her eldest daughter. In addition, Bryennios and Anna’s histories,
although have the same origin, have many discursive differences that were
discussed most recently by Stanković and Neville.266
From Anna’s Prologue we have the impression about her need to fulfill
Eirene’s wish – Bryennios’ endeavor was supposed to be finished and Anna
continued it. Why was there such a demand from Eirene’s part for a history
of Alexios’ reign, where we do not face a similar demand from the emperor’s
side? Quite contrary to that, the emperor was decided that there was not any
need for such an endeavour. We encounter the story on emperor’s reluctance
in this matter at the very end of the Alexiad – once more the author stressed
that the idea of composing this history had different provenance than one
would expect. It was not the idea of the Komnenoi, but of the Doukai. That
fact should be kept in mind whenever we approach the work.
There are several important questions:
– Why did history of the Alexios’ reign start emerging in the summit of
John Komnenos’ reign?
– In which way was emergence of the Alexiad perceived among the
members of the Constantinopolitan audience?
– Was there any particular event that aroused Eirene’s interest in such
history?
– Was it necessary to wait for Alexios’ death before commencing such a
literary endeavour?
– Was it solely Eirene’s wish, or Anna had also personal concerns that
made her immerse with such a demanding task?
Eirene’s influence on the Komnenian literature is undisputable. The enco-

miastic culture, which was developing rapidly during the epoch of John II
Komnenos, only to reach its zenith in the time of Manuel I, was courted
firstly by the widow-empress Eirene Doukaina, who was, according to
Stanković’s words, ‘absolute center of gathering of the intellectual elite
265 Alexiad, p. 20.

266 Stanković, 2006, p. 190-196; Stanković, 2007, passim; Stanković, 2011c, passim; Neville, 2012,
p. 182-194.
in the years after Alexios’ death’.267 The most renowned poet of the John’s
epoch was doubtlessly Theodore Prodromos. He was firstly introduced to the
court through patronage of Eirene Doukaina.268 Regarding Eirene’s cultural
influence in the capital, Mullett was able to name several other members
of the empress theatron, which were also quite renowned in the court, and
active in the years we are dealing with. Those were, Michael Italikos and
George Tornikes, two names closely associated with the blooming rhetori-
cal culture of the mid-Komnenian century.269 However, it is important to
stress that members of Eirene’s theatron were also, Anna, Bryennios and
Andronikos, Anna’s younger and the only beloved brother.270 Later, in the
time of Manuel I this particular fashion of political activity through literary
patronage was significantly limited.271
As a literary patron, Eirene actively participated in the construction of a new
political ideology professed in the poems of Prodromos, who celebrated both
imperial families. Prodromos coined the term Komnenodoukikon to celebrate a
new imperial branch formed through the marriage of Alexios and Eirene. The
most important trait of his propaganda was the tendency to prevent blending
of the Doukai into the Komnenian oikos.272 This was most dominant feature
of Eirene Doukaina’s personal political ideology. The same occurrence is
present in the Alexiad and bears the same ideological imprint. The history of
the Doukai before and after the Komnenian ascendancy was actually one of
the crucial ideological tenets of the Alexiad, that is, of Anna’s personal history,
where she presented herself as the only heir of the Doukai’ legacy.
The shrewd idea of Eirene Doukaina to order a history of Alexios’ deeds
was most probably continuation of a tradition dominant in her family where
history had two main purposes – to rewrite some sensitive political issues
and to immerse in a political debate on current controversies. This composite
picture shows a plexus of various political interests that sought their way
to rewrite the history according to their own agenda. The emergence of the
Alexiad chronologically corresponds with the time when the new, strictly
Komnenian, dynastic ideology was reaching its heyday.273 There were ap-
parently many controversial issues between two imperial families to be
discussed and reassessed again.
267 Stanković, 2006, p. 221.

268 This assumption comes from the earliest datable poems – Bazzani, 2007, p. 2.
269 Mullett, 1984, p. 175-176.
270 Mullett, 1984, p. 176.
271 Such was a case of sebastokratorissa Eirene, see Stanković, 2006, p. 132-136; 263-265.
272 Stanković, 2006, 234 et sq.
273 This will be discussed in more detail in the chapter on John Komnenos.
Eirene Doukaina between historical persona and fictional character

Among all Komnenian women, Eirene was the last one dominant and
politically active, which was due to being member of the powerful family of
the Doukai, who had an influential social nexus in the Constantinople, were
renowned for their excessive wealth, gave two emperors, and empowered the
Komnenian rebel in his strive for the highest office. Yet, this view was not
dominant among the scholars, and Eirene’s political activity was assessed
from different perspectives, and even completely discarded. According
to Barbara Hill’s words, ‘Eirene Doukaina was a patron of monasteries
and people and a nurse and guardian to Alexios, but her influence in
the marriage alliances made for the members of her family is implied
only in the fact that so many foreign brides took her name on marriage.
Anna Komnene does not hint that her mother was involved in making the
marriage alliances, which were part of the foundation of the Komnenian
system […]. Eirene as a wife therefore had no visible role in the important
power-building activity of marriage alliances. What she did was to look
out for the welfare of her children inside the marriages […], but the crisis
of 1118 demonstrates her impotence as a mother, in comparison to the
women of 1081’.274
Being a patron of monasteries and people is too general observation that
corresponds mostly with the rhetorical topoi repeated as formulas and not
discussed in their historical context. As I have stressed already, being ‘a
patron of people’ meant that she was literary patroness of those people that
were creators of the imperial ‘propaganda’. Also, if those people were not
literati, they were mostly clients of her house, and presented a significant
power-base in Constantinople. On the other hand, even more general formula
of a ‘patron of monasteries’ is nothing to be disregarded as mere expression
of piety, beacuse it was least that. Especially in the Komnenian epoch,
monasteries were built as visual testimonies of their political power and
were heavily imbued with political ideology.275 As for Eirene’s only role to
‘look out for the welfare of her children inside the marriages’ I would opt
for the less literal reading of Zonaras. The final remark that the events after
Alexios’ death show her ‘impotence as a mother’ should be reconsidered
from the quite opposite perspective. Precisely the crisis of 1118 shows that
Eirene’s influence was not insignificant at all. The fact that John did not
succeed his father without internal frictions, and that he neeeded to take
274 Hill, 1996, p. 45-46.

275 Especially important and insightful in this regard are conslusions of Stanković see Stanković,
2006; Stanković, 2011; Stanković, 2015.
over the Great Palace, suggests rather contrary situation. If the chosen
successor that was crowned back in 1092, was still insecure in his position
twenty six years later, then there was more than single political interest and
the influence of those who wanted someone else in John’s place was not
a thing to be disregarded at all. Zonaras suggests it was Eirene. And I am
willing to accept his account, although it should not be taken at face value,
as it is case with all other sources. Therefore, I do not think that the situation
was easy, clear, or unanimously turned in favour of John Komnenos. The
process of the establishment of a new dynasty was long and lasted until the
reign of Manuel I, the third ruler from the Komneian dynasty. That means
that we deal with the span of fifty years, and with all processes that were
current in the days between 1081 (and even before) and 1150’s, which should
be given due consideration.
Eirene Doukaina actually presents the continuator of those ambitious
women of the 11th century, which dominated political scene in Constantino-
ple through their social alliances. She was able to learn from the best, her
lifelong oponent Anna Dalassene. As Dalassene, she was also entitled in
the Alexiad to titles of μήτηρ, βασιλίς, δέσποινα. Apart from being αὐγούστα,
which is very important title since it was obtained only after the political
struggle between Dalassene and John Doukas, one more title is exclusively
bound to Eirene Doukaina – it is the term αὐτοκράτορισσα, deployed solely
in her case.
Denomination of Eirene as the ‘female autocrator’ conveys Anna’s political
discourse in which her mother was completely equalised with her father.
The only use of the same term I found in Glykas’ history with reference to
the Macedonian empress Zoe, when her sister Theodora handed her the
imperial power.276 In the case of Zoe, this unique term was used to denote
that peculiar state of affairs when the supreme power was in the hands of
a woman, wherefore this term proved to be highly suitable. However, in
Eirene Doukaina’s case, she was never a sole ruler, as Zoe was. Nevertheless,
Anna did not refrain from ascribing this title to her mother. She resorted to
that kind of solutions for purposes of her own political discourse – Anna
Dalassene was named basilissa Anna, although she did not bear that title
officially, and Maria of Alania never ceased to be basilissa even after the new
augousta was crowned. According to the same pattern, Eirene Doukaina was
elevated to the level of autocrator, which clearly shows Anna’s assessment
of Eirene’s political influence.
276 Mich. Glyc, 599 (7).

The picture of Eirene Doukaina in the Alexiad

The image of Eirene left by her daughter is completely opposite of what
we encounter in the histories of Zonaras and Niketas Choniates. This is
exactly the point where the disputes aroused in the recent historiography
concerning her attempt against John II Komnenos.277 The main question is
whether to put faith in Zonaras’ and Choniates’ accounts or in Anna’s. Yet,
I would not oppose these sources since they all speak in favour of the same
thing, yet their biases differ, and hitherto, their discourses.
The most conspicuous circumstance is that sources deliver two contrasted
pictures of Eirene Doukaina. That implies on the first place that these
sources where immersed in the mutual dialogue. The case of Zonaras’ and
Komnene’s presentations strongly suggests that one author wanted to refute
the other. As I have stressed before, I am sure that one of the main impetuses
for Anna’s literary endeavor was the emergence of Zonaras’ history that she
wholeheartedly sought to challenge, and especially his account on Eirene
Doukaina. Niketas Choniates story relies heavily on the image constructed
by Zonaras,278 which he disfigures even more in his particular literary
manner with intention to disparage the whole Komnenian dynasty from
its inception through vivid and intense family clash on Alexios’ deathbed.
According to him that was a dynasty where the mother and wife acted
against son and husband, where sister wished brother’s death, and where
men were feeble before their women. One can hardly take at face value
Choniates’ exaggerated picture,279 although he certainly did not invent the
whole thing. Yet, his manner was something that corresponded more with
his personal sentiment and deep dissatisfaction after the downfall of both
dynasty and empire in 1204.280
However, the existence of two anithetical pictures of Eirene Doukaina
advances the conclusion that there were two confronted groups in the
Komnenian oikos engaged in mutual dispute. Our main purpose in this
chapter is to explain the way Anna Komnene presented her mother, and to
277 Leonora Neville and Penelope Buckley.

278 Zonaras XVIII, 24, 8-18 (12.18), p. 747: ‘ἐπεὶ δ’ ἐκεῖνος τοὺς πόδας ἤλγει […] καὶ ἐντεῦθεν
κλινοπετής, κατῆρχεν ἡ βασιλίς, καὶ τῷ ταύτης ἦν ὡς ἐπίπαν τιθέμενος ὁ αὐτοκράτωρ θελήματι, καὶ
πᾶσα ἡ ἐξουσία καὶ τῆσ βασιλείας διοίκησις ἀνατεθῆναι αὐτῇ μετὰ παρέλευσιν τοῦ ἀνδρὸς μεμελέτητο,
ὡς καὶ τὸν υἱὸν καὶ βασιλέα ὑποκεῖσθαι αὐτῇ’.
279 Choniates, History, p. 5 (90.96): ‘ἡ δὲ μήτηρ καὶ βασιλὶς Εἰρήνη τῇ θυγατρὶ Ἄννῃ τὴν πᾶσαν ἐκ
τοῦ ἐναντίου χαριζομένη ῥοπὴν οὐκ ἀνίει παρὰ τῷ συλλέκτρῳ Ἀλεξίῳ τὸν υἱὸν Ἰωάννην ἐνδιαβάλλουσα,
προπετῆ τοῦτον ἀποκαλοῦσα καὶ ὑγρὸν τὸν βίον παλίνστροφόν τε τὸ ἦθος καὶ μηδαμῇ μηδὲν ὑγιές, καὶ
τιθεμένη διὰ παντὸς ἀσχολίας πάσης ἀνώτερον σπούδασμα, ὅπως μετάθοιτο τὴν γνώμην ὁ βασιλεύς,
ἣν εἶχεν ἐπ’ αὐτῷ κυρωσάμενος’.
280 On Choniates literary style see Kaldellis, 2009; Angelou, 2010.
see behind the picture of a humble, timid and dedicated Eirene Doukaina.
It seems to me that Eirene’s profile was subjected to greatest distortions.
Eirene’s political activity is featured in two significant roles – that of a
mother and of a wife – and it can be observed in two chronological frames.
The first one encompasses period from her marriage to Alexios until the
withdrawal of Anna Dalassene. The second encircles the period from
Dalssene’s withdrawal until the death of Alexios Komnenos.
The time of Dalassene’s retirement is not specified in the Alexiad, or
the circumstances of that event. Yet, if we follow closely Zonara’s account,
we can find the corresponding narrative in the Alexiad also. He mentions
Dalassene’s withdrawal to her endowement, the monastery of Christ
Pantepoptes. After that, he delivers a picture of an imperial couple and
Eirene’s role as Alexios’ caregiver. That same picture we encounter in the
later books of the Alexiad.
Eirene during the supremacy of Anna Dalassene

The character of Eirene Doukaina in this part of the Alexiad is confined
to several scarce episodes conditioned by historical circumstances and by
Anna’s tendency not to leave her early imperial years to complete silence.
The image of the imperial couple – a textual mosaic panel?

The description of the imperial couple already discussed carries significant
ideological weight. Anna stresses an exquisite beauty of the two imperial
personages (τοῖν βασιλέοιν ἀμφοιν), Eirene and Alexios, stating that ‘a painter
could never reproduce the beauty of such an archetype, nor a sculptor
mould his lifeless stone into such harmony. Even the celebrated canon of
Polyclitus would have seemed utterly inadequate, if one looked first at these
living statues (the newly crowned rulers, I mean) and then at Polyclitus’
masterpieces’.281
Anna’s ekphrasis actually brings up an imagined picture in front of
the readers eye, where we encounter ‘just crowned’ (τοὺς ἀρτιστεφεῖς
αὐτοκράτορας) imperial couple. Such presentations were typical of mosaic
imperial panels, found especially in Hagia Sophia.282 Alexios was described
as a fierce warrior, whereas Eirene Doukaina was presented as a ‘living
statue’. It seems as if this textual picture was a narrative reproduction of
John II Komnenos and his wife Eirene Piroshka. Their emotional closeness
281 Alexiad, p. 109; Alexias, III 3,1-4, p. 93.

282 cf. for instance Hatzaki’s analysis of the image of the emperor Monomachos and the empress
Zoe – Hatzaki, 2011, p. 233-236.
was celebrated in the poems of court poets. Yet, even more important than
this potential allusion is Anna’s reference on their equal status, by using the
dual form for the word emperor. Furthermore, she mentioned that they were
crowned recently (τοὺς ἀρτιστεφεῖς αὐτοκράτορας), without any distinction
with regard to her mother’s coronation. As on mosaic panels of the imperial
personages that always served to profess current political ideology and state
of affairs, these double ekphrasis served to declare the final union of the
imperial couple, and their harmony that was finally achieved. Structurally,
this description was put after the story on the alleged Alexios’ plan to marry
Maria of Alania. Through this powerful textual image, as inscribed on the
most solid foundation, Anna promulgated her political discourse that did
not allow any suspicion on the harmonious relation between Alexios and
Eirene. The idea of this union will be in the focus of Anna’s scarce episodes
on her parents.
Eirene’s wealth and learning

In the book V, we encounter a lonely episode on Eirene’s initiative in the
moment of the crisis for the Empire. Alexios sought the means to overcome
the lack of necessities for the army:
Because they [Isaac and Dalassene] were unable to find another method
of providing the money, they first collected their own available resources,
in the form of gold and silver objects, and sent them to imperial mint. The
empress, my mother, took the lead: all that she had inherited from her
father and mother was offered, in the hope that by doing this she might
inspire others to follow her example. She was much concerned for the
emperor in his extremely difficult position.283
It is interesting that Anna did not leave out her mother from this joint
action for the empire. The protagonists in this story are Isaac and Anna
Dalassene, left behind in the City to raise the funds. Although the focus is
on them, we still have a strong impression that Eirene acted πρώτη δὲ πάντων
and raised all other to follow her example, τοὺς ἄλλους ἐντεῦθεν πρὸς τοῦτο
ἐρεθίσαι. The action of a devoted and lawful wife is delivered right before
the controversial decision on the expropriation of the sacred objects due
to the sad state of the imperial treasury and immediate need to pay the
283 Alexiad, p. 157; Alexias, V 2,1 (74.78), p. 143: ‘πρώτη δὲ πάντων ἡ βασιλὶς καὶ μήτηρ ἐμὴ ὁπόσα ἔκ
τε μητρῴου καὶ πατρῴου κλήρου ἐνυπῆρχον αὐτῆ κατεβάλετο καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους ἐντεῦθεν πρὸς τοῦτο
ἐρεθίσαι οἰομένη. ἐδεδίει γὰρ ὑπὲρ τοῦ ἀυτοκράτορος ἐν στενῷ κομιδὴ τὰ κατ’αὐτὸν ὁρῶσα’.
mercenaries.284 The main decisions on this matter were scrutinised in the

narrow Komnenian circle – among Alexios, Isaac and Dalassene. The final
decision in this matter lay on them, but Anna, nevertheless, inserted a sole
act of her mother that triggered many to do the same. The young empress is
presented as a firm woman that continued the tradition of her house to help
Komnenoi in their cause. If that act happened as Anna states, it was most
probably the act of the Doukai, under whose guidance Eirene continued to
live in the first years of her wedded life, in a Great palace apart from Isaac
and Dalassene. Another curiosity is that Eirene gave her own wealth, and
she did not take part in the decision on the confiscation of the sacred objects
that came afterwards. Even more intriguing is that the main opponent of
that decision was Leo of Chalcedon, who was close to the Doukai. The great
controversy that aroused around this act was an act of the Komnenoi again.
Was Leo’s opposition part of the Doukai’s influence? Although impossible
to support such hypothesis with a necessary argument, I have a strong
feeling that both Leo’s case, and later John Italos’ are manifestations of the
conflict between Komnenoi and the Doukai. Both cases are recounted in
the Book V, and although characters of Leo and Italos are subjected to the
author’ reproach, there are certain similarities in their descriptions – both
are connected to the Doukai, and both were sentenced and exiled in the
early years of Alexios’ reign. It seems as if they were just scapegoats in this
rather serious political struggle that did not end with Eirene’s coronation.
In the book V we encounter a passage on Eirene’s Doukaina exquisite
learning:
Most of them [Italos’ pupils] were frequent visitors to the palace […] It was
natural that men of culture should attend the palace when the devoted
pair (τοῦ ἱεροῦ ζεύγους), my parents I mean (τοὺς ἐμοὺς φημὶ τοκέας καὶ
βασιλεῖς) were themselves labouring so hard night and day in searching
the Holy Scriptures. […] Many a time when a meal was already served I
remember seeing my mother with a book in her hands, diligently reading
the dogmatic pronouncements of the Holy Fathers, especially of the
philosopher and martyr Maximus.285
The passage about Eirene’s learning put a stress once again on the relation-
ship between Anna’s parents, whose image of the ‘sacred couple’ presents a
resounding echo of a mosaic panel. The story that started with the portrait
284 Alexiad, p. 159, Alexias, p.144-145.

285 Alexiad, p. 178; Alexias, V 9,3 (53.62), p. 165.
of the imperial couple, was further elaborated in these episodes. It served to

assert the emotional closeness between Alexios and Eirene that was most
probably not part of the reality in those early years.
Eirene’s motherhood
Book VI delivers the crucial excurse for Anna’s political discourse. The story
of her birth deserves analysis from various perspectives. In this case, where
we focus on the image of Eirene in the Alexiad, is noteworthy to highlight
the impression of an interfamilial disjuncture between the two oikoi. From
the beginning of the Alexiad, we never come across Anna Dalassene in any
kind of relationship with Eirene Doukaina. There is a clear and strict division
– Dalassene is part of the ruling trinity with her two sons not at all immersed
in the typical woman’ role of a guardian of other female members of her
household, as it was case during the Komnenian insurrection. What is even
more striking and usually overlooked is that Dalassene oversaw the imperial
gynaikonitis. Anna states that in Book III where she dwells on Dalassene’s
ruling abilities referring to the complete change of the appearance of the
women’s chambers. So, while Dalassene oversaw gynaikonitis, what area of the
palace pertained to augousta Eirene? Anna has carefully omitted any possible
overlap between the spatial settings of her female protagonists. Probably
because it was impossible to connect them in any way, except through Alexios.
As we have seen, the division among their living spaces did happen and
we encounter Eirene precisely in the setting suited for her – in the purple
chamber of the Great Palace. This corresponds with the information that she
lived with all the Doukai in the ‘lower palace’, which, possibly, can be identified
as some part of the Great Palace. In the story of Anna’s birth we encounter
Eirene in labor, in a company of her mother, protovestiaria Maria, waiting for
her husband to come from the war campaign. The story goes as following:
Two days before the emperor’s return to the palace (he was coming back
then after his battle with Robert and his other numerous wars and labours)
she was seised with the pains of childbirth and making the sign of the
Cross over her womb, said, “Wait a while, little one, till your father’s ar-
rival.” Her mother, the protovestiaria, so she said, reproached her soundly:
“What if he comes in a month’s time? Do you know when he’ll arrive?”
she said angrily. “And how will you bear such pain?” So spoke her mother;
but her command was obeyed – which very clearly signified that in her
womb the love that I was destined to have for my parents in the future.286
286 Alexiad, p. 196; Alexias, VI 8,2 (87.96), p. 184.

This story emphasises once again Eirene’s deep affection for Alexios,
which most probably presents a fiction of the author and not a real state of
relations on the Constantinopolitan court in 1083. Furthermore, another
romantic element is found in Anna’s willingness to wait for her father in
her mother’s womb, which implied the closeness between the imperial
couple and their first-born daughter. In addition, Anna used this scene to
contrive her obedience towards mother, by acceding to her request (τὸ δὲ
γε τῆς βασιλίδος ἐπιταγμα πέρας εἰλήφει). The weight put on her closeness
with Eirene in particular designated Anna as her only heiress. For some of
the porphyrogennetoi (Anna and Isaac) Eirene was equally important in
their quest for the imperial legitimacy of which they were deprived. Anna
was vehemently devoted to elaboration of the motive of closeness with the
mother.
Further development of that theme occurs in the next paragraph where
Anna states that her birth was followed by illustrious celebration where
the happiest of all were members of her mother’s family, who could not
express enough pleasure about this event (μᾶλλον οἱ τῇ βασιλίδι καθ’αἷμα
προσήκοντες, οὐκ εἶχον ὑφ’ ἡδονῆς ὅ τι καὶ γένοιντο).287 Finally, the whole
image of her closeness with the Doukai was encircled in the paragraph
about her being acclaimed together with Constantine Doukas. Thus, from
the very beginning of the story of her birth, there were only members of the
Doukai mentioned, apart from Alexios – Eirene, protovestiaria, empress’
blood-relatives and ultimately Constantine Doukas. This staging of Anna’s
birth brought forth all prominent members of the Doukai’s house. The story
of the birth emphasises her closeness to parents, with slight overbalance
in favour of Eirene Doukaina.
Eirene after the withdrawal of Anna Dalassene
Alexios’ guardian – ‘Anna’s Eirene’ vs. ‘Zonaras’ Eirene’

Eirene’s role in the Alexiad significantly changes from the book XII, where
we encounter her in the role of Alexios’ active guardian and companion
on his war campaigns. Anna delivers detailed accounts of her mother’s
presence on Alexios’ campaigns and provides reasons for that situation,
not only once but on several occasions, which should raise our attention
when we come across these sections.
The image of Eirene constructed in the Books XIII, XIV and XV, conveys
Anna’s tendency to define clearly the reasons of Eirene’s ‘new role’ in Alexios
287 Alexias, VI 8,3 (15.16), p. 184.

life. This suggests that Anna was actually providing an answer to another
text that deployed different image of Eirene Doukaina. One might naturally
ask why Anna was so vehemently dedicated to explain Eirene’s absence from
Constantinople. We find the reasons in both Zonaras’ and Anna’ accounts,
but they greatly differ from each other.
Anna was consistent in constructing Eirene through categories of typi-
cal woman behaviour – as a caring mother and a lawful and loving wife.
Although it might seem curious that Anna shaped her mother according to
the male discourse, it is quite expected if one seeks to understand the whole
concept of her political discourse. Anna Dalassene was the only character
overwhelmingly endowed with male virtues, designed as a paradigm of
a ruler. Consequently, the character of Eirene Doukaina Anna used for
completely different purposes. A controversy about Eirene, obviously current
in the Constantinopolitan circles, needed to be reshaped and molded into
generally acceptable categories. It would be impossible to counter Zonaras’
account, had there been an ambitious female character with a lust for power
and no love for all her children.
From the first episode after the coronation, Anna describes Eirene in
the light of a loving wife who lived harmonious life with her husband. We
do not encounter any allusion on the spouses’ conflict or alienation in any
part of their wedded life. Yet, we can infer important conclusions, based
on Anna’s omissions and silences. Episodic presence of Eirene in the first
part of the Alexiad changes to her active role in the last three books. Anna
begins with the following overture:
It was September, in the fourteenth indiction and the twentieth year

after his accession to the throne. The Augusta, too, was compelled to
leave with him. Her natural inclination would have been to shun public
life altogether. Most of her time was devoted to household duties and her
own pursuits – reading the books of the saints, I mean, or turning her
mind to good works and acts of charity to mankind, especially to those
who from their mien and way of life she knew were serving God, monks
who persevered in prayer and in the singing of hymns. Whenever she
had to appear in public as empress at some important ceremony, she
was overcome with modesty and a blush at once suffused her cheeks
(αἰδοῦς τὲ ὑπεπίμπλατο καὶ ἐρύθημα εὐθὺς ἐξηνθήκει ταῖς παρειαῖς). The
woman philosopher Theano once bared her elbow and someone playfully
remarked, “What a lovely elbow!” “But not for public show,” she replied.
Well, the empress, my mother, (ἡ δὲ βασιλὶς καὶ μήτηρ ἐμή) the image of
majesty, the dwelling-place of saintness, so far from being pleased to
reveal to the common gaze an elbow or her eyes, was unwilling that
even her voice should be heard by strangers. Her modesty was really
extraordinary (τοσοῦτον ἦν ἐκείνη χρῆμα θαυμάσιον εἰς αἰδῶ). But since
not even gods, as the poet says, fight against necessity, she was forced to
accompany the emperor on his frequent expeditions. Her innate modesty
kept her inside the palace (κατεῖχε μὲν γὰρ αὐτὴν ἡ σύμφυτος αἰδὼς ἔνδον
τῶν βασιλείων); on the other hand, her devotion to him and burning love
for him (τὸ δὲ πρὸς τὸν αὐτοκράτορα φίλτρον καὶ ἡ διάπυρος πρὸς ἐκεῖνον
ἀγάπη) compelled her, however unwillingly, to leave her home. There
were two cogent reasons: first, because the disease which attacked his
feet necessitated most careful attention; he suffered excruciating pain
from his gout and my mother’s (τῆς ἐμῆς δεσποίνης καὶ μητρός) touch was
what he appreciated most, for she understood him perfectly and by gentle
massage relieved him of the anguish to some extent. In what I am going
to say let no one accuse me of exaggeration, for I do admire the domestic
virtues; and let no one suspect that I lie about the emperor, for I am
speaking the truth. (καὶ μοι μηδεὶς τῆς περιαυτολογίας ἐπιμεμφέσθω. τὰ
γὰρ οίκεῖα θαυμάζω. μὴδ’ὡς καταψευδομένην τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος ὑφοράσθω.
τά γὰρ ἀληθῆ λέγω).288
This paradigmatic paragraph bears crucial tenets of Anna’s fashioning of

the character of her mother. Therefore, I have highlighted those parts of the
text that function as codes of her discourse and each time they are repeated
somewhere in the text imply the same meaning. On the first place, we
encounter the formula of a ‘modest empress’, which was stressed already
by Papaioannou as part of ‘gender expectations imposed to her’ and we
find the same quality in Anna, when she talks about her discursive agency
in the Preface (ἡ ἐμαυτῆς μὲν… ξύμφυτος αἰδώς).289 The unifying element of
the ‘innate modesty’ between Anna and her mother, however, contains an
obvious paradox. Anna was highly selective in application of ‘innate modesty’
in her own case – if she really acquiesced to her inborn characteristic she
would not immerse in writing a history which was a leap into exclusively
male sphere. Her writing impetus was ‘claim for public authority’, according
to the theory of feminist narratology, or as Papaioannou put it, she displayed
‘a conscious claim to a masculine role’ and, thus, ‘publicised her speech’.290
It is impossible not to raise brows at least when Anna mentions her ‘innate
288 Alexiad, p. 374-375; Alexias, XII 3,2 (78.10), p. 364-365.

289 Papaioannou, 2011, p.115; In the Preface, line 107.29.
modesty’. In the same manner, her insistence on the same quality in her
mother is far from just a locus communis, especially if it was mentioned
three times in only one passage that deals with Eirene Doukaina. According
to Eirene’s patronage solely, she was not a modest and bashful lady at all.
By the same analogy, Anna chose to present herself as a ‘modest women
writer’ in several occasions where she wanted to omit explanation of certain
events, or for some other reason. Therefore, the ‘innate modesty’ was only
used as a rhetorical explanation for intentional silences and omissions. Just
by taking the role of historiographer Anna consciously opposed to the idea of
‘innate modesty’ and plunged into the discursive sea of ‘gender impropriety’.
Another paradigmatic formula employed is the ‘devotion to the emperor
and the burning love for him’, which conditioned augousta’s agency. It is
a pattern we follow since the beginning and it will reach its climax at the
very end of the Alexiad, on Alexios’ deathbed. The story of a loving and
vehemently devoted wife to her husband lied in its core.
Finally, a passage on Eirene Doukaina would not have been complete had
not there been Anna’s intrusion of herself using formulas ‘the empress and
my mother’ and ‘my mistress and mother’. Furthermore, she explains she
should not be blamed for ‘self-bragging, if she praises her family’ and that
her account on the emperor should not be ‘seen with suspicion as a lie, since
she only speaks truth’. This is one of Anna’s own loci communes found in
the Alexiad and usually employed in the moments when some disputable
arguments were presented.
Let us now hear what Zonaras has to say about the imperial couple in
order to make the whole picture clearer:
And concerning his wife, he was neither repelled nor excited at all to share
a bed with her. He did not have intercourse with her more than it was his
marriage duty, because of what the empress threw the arrows of jealousy.
As the time went by, the emperor became obtuse to the fire-bearing
arrow of desire, and only then he turned his love to augousta and her
affection, and wanted to have her constantly near him. That later gave
the empress a great power at her disposal, and it was like that as long as
she was in charge of the emperor’s health. He suffered from pains in his
foot and he was not able to walk. His joints were in a bad condition due
to the accumulated humours, wherefore he was confined to bed. The
empress begun to govern, since the emperor’s wish was that she should
be in charge of everything, that the whole authority and the management
of the Empire should be attributed to her upon the withdrawal of her
husband, and that even their son and emperor should be subjected to her.
That whole design was not bearable to him since he was already a
grown man and for a long time already was married to a daughter of
the Hungarian ruler and they had children. He was afraid for the Empire,
but also for his own life, seeing that his mother was giving precedence
to her elder daughter and her son-in-law, Bryennios. For that reason,
he approached his relatives and, indeed, all others, secretly deploring
this state and reminding each one of them about their oaths, not to
accept anyone else as ruler after his father. They inspired him with
conf idence and promised to help him when the time comes. And all
that they confirmed by oaths.
However, that did not escape the notice of the empress and she became
suspicious of her son. Hence, every time someone would attend him,
she was informed of that. All kinds of agents were sent to spy on him.
Nevertheless, this did not prevent him from attracting many to his
side. Some of them pledged their allegiance to him and some to her. His
younger brother was devoted to him, whereas the other, quite obviously
Andronikos, was opposed to his brother and the emperor.291
Zonaras’ picture of the relations between the emperor and his wife at first,
and later between the empress and her son gives us many clues for reading
the Alexiad and understanding its embedded allusions. Some parts of the
Zonaras’ account coincide with the information we encounter in Anna’s
story. In the late years of his life, Alexios became more attached to his
wife and they were closer. Yet, all that preceded this and that comes after
is carefully omitted from Anna’s idealised picture of the beloved imperial
couple. Even a cursory glance towards Zonaras’ text does not leave any
impression about the ‘modest empress’. The word ‘αἰδώς’ is not employed
in presentation of Eirene, who is all-contrary to that. Whereas in Anna’s
account Eirene was so timid and modest she did not even like to show
herself in public, in Zonaras’ story she is a woman who did not refrain from
the idea she would be given the role of the ruler. Furthermore, in Zonaras’
account the emphasis is placed on her lust for power, which outweighed
her motherly instinct. In contrast to Anna Dalassene who ruled together
with her son by his own wish, Eirene was ready to go against her own son
who was already crowned, which Zonaras particularly stresses by naming
him ‘basileus’. Furthermore, Eirene’s craving for power provoked John to
‘fear for his own life’, which is not a light verdict at all.
291 Zonaras XVIII 24, 16-16, p. 747.

When we face these two images of the empress Eirene, there are actually
a lot of convergences, yet not all of them are obvious. There are several
important facts with regard to the information that Alexiad gives us:
– There is not any connection made between Eirene Doukaina and John II
Komnenos. Even in the mention of his birth, the whole story is presented
in too general terms, and does not focus on Eirene’s motherly role, as
in the case of Anna’s birth.
– The picture of Eirene in the Alexiad is overwhelmingly shrouded in
the ideal of the modest women, and particularly in this part Anna
emphasises that her account is not a self-bragging, that she has a right
to praise her closest ones (she admits that she resorted to praise). Ac-
cording to the established pattern, whenever she mentions praise, she
asserts also the truthfulness of her writing. Why would anyone doubt
her truthfulness particularly in this place?
– Stories of Eirene’s and Alexios’ closeness in the later years are coherent,
with a difference that Anna’s omits the story Eirene’s increased power
and any kind of involvement in the imperial politics. In her story, she
is only Alexios’ caregiver and guardian.
– Isaac Komnenos, Anna’s younger brother that was devoted to John is
completely excluded from the Alexiad, like he never existed, whereas
Andronikos Komnenos is part of Anna’s beloved family memories. This
‘coincidence’ becomes quite clear after reading Zonaras.
After the short interlude with reference to Alexios, Anna turned back to her
mother again to explain ‘second and the most cogent reason why the empress
accompanied him’, as if the story on Alexios’ illness was not sufficient.
Nevertheless, what Anna was about to say in this extensive paragraph also
resounds the final lines of the quotation from Zonaras:
A multitude of conspiracies sprang up against him and it called for great

vigilance, a power in fact endowed with a hundred eyes, for night was a
time for plots, and so was mid-day, and the evening brought to birth some
new evil; worst were the intrigues of the morning – God is my witness.
Was it not right, therefore, that the emperor, assailed by evils so numerous,
should also be protected by a thousand eyes while some fired arrows at
him, others sharpened their swords and others, when action became
impossible, indulged in calumny and abuse? Who then had a better right
to be at his side than his natural adviser? Who rather than the empress
would keep stricter watch over him or regard with more suspicion the
plotters? Who would be quick to discern what profited him, quicker to
observe the intrigues of his enemies? It was for these reasons that my
mother was all in all to the emperor (ἡ ἐμὴ μήτηρ τῷ δεσπότῃ μου καὶ
πατρί). By night, she was the unsleeping eye, by day his most conspicuous
guardian, the good antidote to the perils of the table and the salutary
remedy against poisoned food. There were reasons that thrust aside her
natural reserve (τὴν σύμφυτον αἰδῶ τῆς γυναικὸς) and gave her courage to
face the eyes of men. And yet, even then, she did not forget her customary
decorum: a look, a silence, the retinue about her were enough to ensure
that to most of them she remained inaccessible. The litter borne by two
mules and over it the imperial canopy alone showed that she accompanied
the army; otherwise her royal person was screened from the view. It was
well known among all that some excellent provision was made for the
emperor’s gout, some sleepless vigil guarded him, en eye wide open (καὶ
ὄμμα ἐγρηγορὸς) and never drowsy watched over his affairs – but nothing
more was known. We, who were loyal to him, shared in this labour with
our mistress and mother to protect him, each according to his or her
ability, with all our heart and soul, never once relaxing our vigil. I have
written these words for the edification of those who delight in scoffing
and raillery, for they bring to judgment the guiltless (a human trait
known to Homer’s Muse too) and they belittle noble deeds, subjecting
the blameless to reproach. (καὶ ἡμεῖς δέ, ὅσοι περὶ τὸν αὐτοκράτορα εὖνοι,
περὶ τὴν ἐκείνου φροὺραν διεπονούμεθά τε καὶ συνηρόμεθα τῇ δεσποινῃ καὶ
μητρὶ ἕκαστος ὡς εἶχεν ὅλῃ ψυχῇ καὶ γνώμῃ μὴδ’ἐπινυστάζοντες ὅλως. ταῦτα
προς τοὺς φιλοσκώμμονας καὶ τὰς φιλολοιδόρους γλώττας γεγράφαται.)292
Again, Anna concludes the paragraph on her mother with reference to

herself and with obvious intention to justify not only her mother but herself
also, and all those who ‘were loyal to’ the emperor. Answers are found in
Zonaras’ account who specifically states that Eirene acted in favour of her
son-in-law, and thus, her eldest daughter. In addition, Zonaras mentions
that the emperor was accompanied by the gynaikonitis on his campaign,
which suggests that there were actually empress and her whole retinue
present. Members of her gynaikonitis were most probably her daughters since
Anna mentions in the story of Alexios’ dwelling in Philippopolis when he
was engaged in the struggle against Manicheans, that she also visited that
town: ‘I myself saw traces of them when I stayed there with the emperor
for some reason or other’293
292 Alexiad, p. 376; Alexias, XII 3,7 (42.46).

We encounter many parallels between two accounts. What were the

reasons behind emperor’s ‘awkward’ decision to take the empress and her
retinue with him? I suggest that one possible reason was concomitant treat
posed to John Komnenos by Eirene, wherefore leaving her in Constantinople
alone would give her chance to scheme against her son. What is even more
indicative is that on this war campaign was also John Komnenos with his
pregnant wife Eirene Piroshka, since already in the next chapter, we come
to a comment in passing, that porphyrogennetos John’s twins were born
in the town of Balabista.294 So, it was considered safer for John Komnenos’
pregnant wife to be near him than left in Constantinople to give birth to
John’s heir in the purple room of the Great Palace, according to the custom.
A curious moment in Eirene’s company of Alexios on his campaigns is
the motive of the empress’ reluctance and discomfort. Anna stressed that
the empress followed the emperor ‘to some extent against her will, and yet
voluntarily’ (τὸ μέν τι ἄκουσα, τό δ’ ἑκουσίως συνείπετο), with the comment that
the empress’ place is not where the barbarian army is (οὐ γὰρ συνεισβαλεῖν ἔδει
τὴν βασιλίδα τῷ βαρβαρικῷ στρατεύματι). Finally, the paragraph ended with
Anna’s emphasis on Eirene’s ‘peaceful nature’ through meticulous lexical
play with her name stating that she was ‘peaceful as her name suggested
itself’ (τὰ δ’ ἄλλα εἰρηνικωτάτη ἦν κατὰ τοὔνομα).295
The emperor’s caregiver – John’s adversary

The whole story about Eirene’s care for her husband and her constant struggle
to ease his pains and calm the effects of his illness should be taken into
consideration as an allgorical presentation of the ‘illness’ that overcame
the imperial family. And this would not be the first time that the ‘illness’
stands as a metaphorical symbol for the state of decline. Anna had used
precisely this term to describe the state of the empire when Robert Guis-
card launched his war against them. Anna’s literary predecessor, and role
model, Michael Psellos, has overwhelmingly used the allegory of illness in
the characterisation of his emperors, especially when he needed to scorn
particular emperor and convey an unambiguous condemnation of his
rule.296 Psellos also used sudden illness to express the negative change that
occurred to the emperor, that is, to the empire. Thus, as Repajić observed, the
emperor Isaac Komnenos was both the Empire’s charioteer and a physician,
294 Alexias, XII 4,4 (42.44), p. 370.

295 Alexias, XII 3,8 (50.61).
296 cf. illness as a metaphor of a decaying empire, Repajić, 2012, p. 341 and as a metaphor of a
malignant character
which is presented in his efforts to alleviate the ‘dying Empire’.297 Curiously,

Anna has split these two motives between two female protagonists – the
charioteer and a helmsman was Anna Dalassene, whereas Eirene Doukaina
was a physician of the Emperor, his remedy. How could we possible find any
connection between the emperor’s illness, the breach inside the imperial
family and Eirene’s role as a physician? When speaking of Alexios’ illness,
Anna asserted that there were three reasons of it:
One day he was exercising at polo, his partner being Tatikios I have often
mentioned. Tatikios was carried away by his horse and fell on the emperor,
whose knee-cap was injured by the impact. […] That was the prime origin
of his gout, for the painful areas attracted rheumatism. There was a second,
more obvious cause of all this illness. Everyone knows that countless
multitudes of Kelts came to the imperial city […] It was then that the
emperor was plunged into a vast ocean of worries. […] As one stood aside
he passed the conversation on to another, and he to the next, and so on
and on. They stood only in these intervals but he all the time, up to first
or even second cock-crow. After a brief rest, when the sun rose he was
again seated on his throne and once more fresh labours and twofold
troubles succeeded those of the night. It was for this reason, than, that
the emperor was attacked by the pain in his feet.298
A rather interesting thing is that Anna again feels the need to explain in
great detail the reasons of Alexios’ illness. There are various possibilities of
which one could be her intention to exculpate the emperor from the aura
of licentious lifestyle, since gout was considered as a ‘royal illness’ due to
excessive use of food and drinks. In addition, Psellos, as I have already
stressed, had developed this motive in his Chronographia by connecting the
indecent lifestyle of Constantine VIII with suffering from gout. It was not
only overindulgence in food, which caused this particular illness, but also
in sexual pleasures (ἥττητο δὲ καὶ γαστρὸς καὶ ἀφροδισίων), that provoked
arthritis (ὅθεν αὐτῷ καὶ περὶ τὰ ἄρθρα ἄλγημα ἐγεγονει).299 Precisely the word
ἀφροδισίων was used by Zonaras to describe Alexios’ lifestyle before the
illness. One might assume that all those conversant with medicine were
accustomed to this view of the gout and its causes. Anna especially proved
formidable expertise in medicine, by describing many details of Alexios’
297 Repajić, 2012, p. 345.

298 Alexiad, p. 449-451.
299 Psellos, Chronographia II, 7, p.28; cf. Repajić 2012, p. 340.
illness. Yet, she did not repeat Psellos’ explanation, but, instead, sought to
present some more acceptable and less shameful reasons for it. Particular
attention should be given to the third reason of Alexios’ illness:
I will say no more now about the pain that afflicted him. Maybe there
was someone who contributed to this malady of his and increased the
sufferings he bore (and surely his cup of bitterness was already full). I will
give a brief outline of the story, not the full details. The empress smeared
the rim of the cup with honey, as it were, and contrived that he should
avoid most of his troubles, for she unceasingly watched over him. The man
I am speaking of must be introduced at this point and considered a third
reason of the emperor’s illness, not merely as the immediate cause, but
also the most effective cause (to use the doctor’s terms). He did not attack
once and for all and then disappear, but remained with him, a constant
companion like the most pernicious humours in the veins. Worse than
that, if one reflects on the man’s character, he was not only a cause of the
disease, but he was himself a malady and its most troublesome symptom.
But I must bite my tongue and say no more. However eager I may be to
jump on these scoundrels, I most not run off the main highway. I will
reserve what I have to say about him to the appropriate time.300
Already Magdalino have assumed that behind this enigmatic person to

whom Anna refers is John Komnenos.301 I strongly adhere to this hypothesis
since the first reading of the Alexiad. After going through Anna’s text many
more times, I concluded that this narrative on ‘Alexios’ illness’ that starts
unfolding from the Book XII closes in the Book XV in the scene on the
Alexios’s deathbed, where John Komnenos emerges from silence for the
last time.
Anna is immutable when it comes to references on John Komnenos, whom
we rarely found with the resounding epithets – basileus and porphyrogen-
netos.302 When she criticised Alexios’ successors to the throne (John and
Manuel respectively) for their stupidity, she referred to them as ‘those who
held the scepter’ (τῶν διαδεξαμένων τὰ σκῆπτρα) or when she blamed those
who ruled (οῖ κρατοῦντες), for the said state in which she was brought, or when
she scorned her brother for overtaking the supreme power while the father
was still alive, naming him only ‘the empire’s successor’ (ὁ τῆς βασιλείας

301 Magdalino, 2000, p. 21.
302 Those places will be analysed in the chapter on John Komnenos.
διάδοχος). According to the same analogy for naming John Komnenos, a

mention of ‘someone’ (ἐκεῖνος) would perfectly fit into Anna’s templates
for denominating her brother. Contrary to that, Zonaras’ was constant in
using the same formula every time when referring to John Komnenos ‘(the
emperor’s) son and emperor’ (τῷ βασιλέως υἱῷ τε καὶ βασιλεῖ).
In all three cases, the causes of Alexios’ illness are people’s actions. In the
third case, Anna introduces the notion of her mother’s commitment to ease
the influence of that third person and to relieve his pains, being a constant
and watchful guardian. I suggest that Eirene’s role as a Alexios’ caregiver is
actually a metaphor for her struggle with John Komnenos who was ‘he was
himself a malady’ that remained with him’ and was ‘a constant companion
like the most pernicious humours in the veins’. Against that malady the
empress continually fought, and ‘smeared the rim of the cup with honey’
and ‘unceasingly watched over him’ (φύλαξ ἀνυστακτος). Therefore, both the
cause and the remedy were constantly present around the emperor, indulged
in mutual fight. Is it possible to find a clue in the following statement of
Zonaras:
The empress started to prepare for the usurpation of the supreme power.
And her son and emperor did not hold still any more, and began to prepare
everything necessary to stand against the design of his mother.303
In the last narrative unit of the Alexiad, Eirene and Anna are focalisers of
the story. The narrator becomes the actor in his own life story and we follow
closely the account of Alexios’ final days, surrounded by his women, Eirene
and their daughters. From this point on, we can follow closely both authors
and read the same story from different perspectives. Zonaras’ states:
The empress was filled with misery, and was surrounded by her daughters.
And the whole day did not pass nor the sun rose above the head, or,
as it is said, in its setting, but leaned a little towards the West, it was
disclosed to the emperor’s son and the emperor that his father was just
about to die. He immediately entered the chamber where his dying father
was lying, not in order to bewail him, but to be sure that he was dead.
Upon seeing it, he immediately walked out and jumped on the horse
and left the Mangana palace with his men, and when he left, many more
followed him. When he just left the area of the Mangana, he met with the
Abasgians, who were serving the elder Caesar’s son due to his marriage,
303 Zonaras, XVIII, 27, 18-19, p. 758.

and were dispatched from him, but they raised the war cry and made
their obeisance to him. It is said that the empress disclosed to the dying
emperor his son’s departure, but that he did not utter a sound about it,
neither wanting that, nor being able to do it. He rose up his hands high,
but it was impossible to say whether in favour of his son or against him.
The others say that the dying emperor was not able to raise his hands,
and that he was not already dead, since they heard the empress shouting
“your son departed while you are still alive to take away from you your
empire.” He smiled vaguely, mocking at her words, because she thought
that the dying person should care about the earthly empire, instead about
the condition of his soul. It was also said that the purple-born autocrator
did not enter without his father’s order, and that he was summoned back
on his departure by him and according to agreement, took the ring from
his father’s hands. The empress was not present in the moment and had
not any idea of what was happening.304
Family drama on Alexios’ deathbed in the Alexiad is described in the fol-

lowing words (I will include only some parts of the text):
Thus at this moment of troubles one after another fell upon us. Neither
the doctors nor we who were tending him knew which way to turn […]
but everything portended disaster. After that our affairs were thrown
into confusion and chaos; our normal habits were disturbed; fear and
danger hung over our heads. Even in the midst of these immediate perils
the Augusta’s courage never wavered and it was especially at this crisis
that she displayed her brave spirit: controlling her own bitter grief she
stood firm, like some Olympic victor, wrestling with the cruellest pangs.
[…] She was anxious to refresh him. Then in a firm, manly voice he gave
the empress some advice – his last counsel: “Why,” he said, “why do you
give yourself up so to grief at my death and force us to anticipate the end
that rapidly approaches? Instead of surrendering yourself to the flood
of woe that has come upon you, why not consider your own position
and the dangers that now threaten you?” Such were his words, but they
only reopened her wound. As for myself, I did all I could; to my friends
still living and to men who in the future will read this history I swear
by God who knows all things that I was no better than a mad woman,
wholly wrapped up in my sorrow. […] The emperor’s heir had already gone
away to the house set apart for him, when he realised the emperor’s … he
304 Zonaras, XVIII, p. 761-762.

hastened his departure and went off quickly to the Great Palace. The city
was at the time… in a state of confusion, but there was no absolute chaos…
The empress in her wild grief said, “Let everything be abandoned… the
diadem, empire, authority, all power, and thrones and principalities. Let
us begin the funeral dirge” And I heedless of all else, wailed with her and
joined her in the lament…”305
Engulfed in deep pathos, the narration about Alexios’ final days is eschato-
logical to the point of ultimate end. An eclectic story that merges ancient
tragedy and the passion of Christ, proved to be quite suitable for Anna’s
display of her rhetorical mastery. The only obvious binding element between
the two accounts is the mention of John’s taking over of the Great Palace
in the moments when Alexios was still alive. Whereas Zonaras supply us
with various versions of this event, Anna opted for only one – that John
expressed only a lust for power whereas the women of their family were
taking care for their beloved husband, father and emperor. Nevertheless, the
whole account that is very long and delivers details of the women’s waiting
on the emperor, is subdued to the notion of the concomitant danger and
the inevitable ruin of everything. As in all quoted passages, we encounter
Anna’s tendency to connect with her mother, and to vindicate her own
feelings and sayings. Alexios’ death is presented as a grievous story of the
ultimate end. Therefore, who needed to be justified eventually? The whole
story about the impetus for the Alexiad, starts with Eirene Doukaina and
her wish, and concludes with Eirene also. In all this, Anna was first and only
scion among all porphyrogennetoi connected to their mother, and presented
herself as another protagonist of this preplex drama.
Alexiad between Eirene and Anna

The time of John II Komnenos’ reign expanded the field of political clashes
in rhetoric and literature through patronage.306 Eirene’s political discourse
focused on the prevention from the complete merging of the Doukai into
Komnenian oikos and the idea of their imperial preponderance was espe-
cially emphasised. The statement ‘we were there first’ constantly emerges
from the texts whose patron was Eirene Doukaina. Among these texts, the
Alexiad stands out as the most alluring example of the alternative political
ideology confronted to the prevailing imperial ideology. Written by Eirene
Doukaina’s ‘favourite’ daughter, it should be considered the most important
305 Alexiad, p. 510-512.

306 Magdalino, 2000, p. 17-20.
program work of Eirene’s politics, a manifesto of its kind. Eirene’s alternative

discourse was a place of power over which certain people came into conflict
with. The original creator of this discourse was Eirene’s great grandfather,
Caesar John Doukas, who found himself in unease after he had pulled a
wrong move against the emperor Romanos IV Diogenes. The ‘disgrace’ of
the Caesar John moved him to act against that controversy and it was done
through ‘rewriting’ of the ‘official (hi)story’. If we consider three influential
histories imbued with pro-Doukai’s political agendas, do we still talk about
the alternative discourse? Arguably, we do and that discourse was very
powerful and they remained as one of the most powerful and influential
family in Constantinople. That happenned due to ‘non-imperial’ branch
of the Doukai, that of Caesar John, whose legacy was continued by his
great granddaughter Eirene Doukaina. The need to ‘exculpate the Doukai’
or to ‘praise the Doukai’ once again (after Psellos) was displayed with the
emergence of the histories of the two spouses – Bryennios’ and Anna – both
members of the Eirene’s ‘circle’.
However, we are still able to draw a line between ‘Eirene’s history’ and
Anna’s own additions. No matter how much the mother and the daughter
were close, they were two different persons, with their individual ideas,
needs and biases. Precisely because of this we are faced with incertitude
about Anna’s role in the conspiracy. Nevertheless, Alexiad is not a story
about the conspiracy against John II Komnenos. The stakes in this game
are much higher than a need to ‘exculpate the Doukai’ once again for the
deed they wanted to do. The alternative political discourse created in the
Alexiad tended to tell the story about the Doukai’s preeminence over the
Komnenoi, and it was directed against the idea of the establishing of the
Komnenian dynasty. Its inception closely relates to the crucial event for the
new imperial dynastic ideology – the inauguration of the imperial monastic
complex, the Christ Pantokrator. So, we should definitely move away from
narrow look upon the conspiracy as the only reason for Anna’s writing and
from seeing Alexiad as Anna’s apology for her alleged act against brother
and the emperor. To be clear, Anna was not apologetic in any sense. That
would imply she felt resentment at some point in her life. Do we read about
any resentment in the Alexiad? Only when she bewails her beloved ones.
Yet, even that cry is politically directed: a literary endeavour such as the
Alexiad was not a work written as a lady’s diary, but as a careful premeditated
narrative for purposes of constructing a whole new discourse in opposition
to the dominant one. That endeavour needed a lot of attention and care in
order not to be perceived immediately as partial and a highly-biased act
of propaganda. For that reason, we are faced with the excessive rhetorical
distortions and embellishments, with a particular authorial voice that was

only ostensibly humble and self-abating.
Eirene’s conflict with her son was nothing more than continuation of
the recurrent clash between the two imperial houses. The scholars never
touched upon the issue of Eirene’s clientele and her social network, and
it is possible to assume she most certainly had considerable connections,
which she inherited from her ancestors. Doukai had formidable social
network in Constantinople, which should not be disregarded at all. Next,
anachronistic interpretation of the year 1118 tends to overshadow a more
probable state of affairs when it comes to the succession issue. Although
John II Komnenos was already crowned emperor, a Roman tradition of the
emperor chosen by ‘the will of people’ was certainly still dominant. We
read from Psellos’ account that Michael V could not succeed in his attempt
to usurp the supreme power, since the people was devoted to Empress Zoe
and the Macedonians. Notwithstanding a dynastic moment in this case,
it is still much more important the fact that the choice depended on the
people. We even read from Zonaras, when John was gathering support for
himself, which he needed to agitate for himself. Why would he need that if
everything was settled beforehand? Even the Varangian guard did not want
to let him enter the Great Palace before the death of Alexios was officially
announced.307 In addition, if we follow Zonaras account closely we see
that Eirene Doukaina already started to manage the affairs of the empire
together with her son-in-law Bryennios.308 We are not sure for how that
state of affairs lasted, but no matter how long, if truthful, it surely means
that Anna was also very close to succeed the imperial throne together
with her husband in a joint rule with her mother. That system might be
awkward for us in the presence of the crowned successor, but one should
not disregard that Bryennios’ was also part of the Byzantine aristocracy,
and hitherto, had his own social network of supporters. John’s wife was a
foreigner. Although useful for diplomatic purposes, she could not provide
John with necessary support within the Constantinople. That he needed to
provide himself. We read that precisely from Zonaras’ account. Moreover,
there actually might not have been any precise conspiracy in the moment
of Alexios’ death. It was rather contrary – John II Komnenos had taken all
necessary measures in order to forestall the concomitant danger. Eirene’s
disappointment was due to that – she could not have reacted in the moment
of mourning, when John acted, taking advantage of the circumstances.
307 Zonaras, XVIII 28, 19-29, p. 763.

308 Zonaras, XVIII 26, 11-24, p. 754.
Once he had secured his supreme power, he did not need to act against his
closest ones. That is why we do not read about severe retribution against
the conspirators, because there might not have been any conspiracy on
the first place. However, that definitely does not mean that there was not
a clash inside the Komenian family.
Niketas Choniates mentions an attempt on John II Komnenos’ life by Anna
Komnene, which most probably presents part of his derogatory rhetorical
embellishments. Yet, his particular focus on Anna Komnene might be
due to circulation of her work, and its impact. Anna Komnene’s personal
imperial ambition presents the core of the Alexiad, and one could easily
accept Choniates’ account. Nevertheless, I am sure that Choniates was also
inspired by Komnene’s reflections when he was creating a distorted history
of the Komnenians.
To conclude, Alexiad should be read through sieve of two discourses
– Eirene’s and Anna’s own. Because of that, the picture is much more
complicated with Anna’s intention to alleviate the breach between the
two branches of the Doukai house, and the need to extol her three female
protagonists, Anna Dalassene, Maria of Alania and Eirene Doukaina who
were mutually confronted in their conflicting interests. When Anna needed
to built in her own political ideology that presented Dalassene as her political
role model, Maria and her son as guarantors of her connection with the
imperial branch with the Doukai and Eirene as exclusively linked to her,
than we came across various imbedded narratives that all encounter in
the same confluence.
The Alexiad is, undoubtedly, a lengthy encomium of the Doukai who
brought Alexios I Komnenos to the imperial throne. Without them, Alexios
apostasia could have never turned into ennomos arche. From the viewpoint
of its ideological discourse, it might be also called the Alexiad of Eirene
Doukaina, or the Doukiad of Anne Komnene. The first case would refer to
Eirene’s idea to present the role and importance of her own genos in the
Komnenian ascendancy, whereas the second case would refer to the idea of
Anna Komnene to present her exclusive place within the imperial house of
the Doukai and thus, detachment and seclusion from other porphyrogennetoi
of the Komnenian oikos by her double relation with the Doukai.
Anna Komnene or Anna Doukaina?

A conclusion of the Doukai’ story in the Alexiad should be made through
the appraisal of Anna’s relationship to her mother, which is reflected in
another very important source. In the typikon of the monastery of the
Virgin Kecharitomene, Eirene Doukaina’s endowment, we have parts
that bear significant elements for understanding familial relations from

Eirene’s viewpoint. Here we find information on the dwelling place of the
female members of the imperial family, which was least a place of solitary
confinement. Anna’s chambers were situated in the part secluded from the
monastery, and she was able to lead a life worthy of an imperial daughter.309
The austere rules of the typikon were not meant for the imperial daughters.
On the first place, the most privileged member of the monastery, except
Eirene Doukaina of course, was Anna Komnene, to which the whole im-
movable property of the monastery was bequeathed.310 Apart from that, the
inheritance of the monastery was left to Anna Komnene’s descendants.311
In that sense, particularly emphasised was Eirene’s granddaughter from
Anna, Eirene Doukaina, who is the only mentioned grandchild of all the rest:
Τελείσθωσαν τὰ μνημόσυνα τῆς περιποθήτου ἐγγόνης τῆς βασιλείας μου κυρᾶς

Εἰρήνης τῆς Δουκαίνης τῆς θυγατρὸς τῆς πορφυρογεννήτου καὶ καισαρίσσης
κυρᾶς Ἄννης.312
Closeness between mother and daughter was undoubtedly confirmed in

this text, where Eirene revealed her last will – the residential area of the
monastery should devolve to Anna Komnene and her descendants.
When it comes to Anna’s relation toward her mother, apart from her
Will and the Alexiad, most ‘palpable’ testimony of her personal inclinations
were the names given to her children. They were: Alexios Komnenos, John
Doukas, Eirene Doukaina, Maria Komnene, Constantine and Andronikos.313
Without any need for deeper analysis, names of Anna’s children present
309 The space where Anna Komnene lived was composed of various imperial chambers within
the monastery complex where the empress lived together with her daughters, and their retinue.
They had a big external courtyard – Gautier, p. 138-139. In short, this space might be called a
‘secular space’ within the monastery complex that was exclusively reserved for the empress
and her closest family members. Anna’s chambers were situated in the middle between two
monasteries – those of Virgin Kécharitôménè and Christ Philanthropos. According to Eirene’s
wish, after Anna’s death, those chambers were supposed to be taken down and on that place a
wall to be raised in height of two cubits. (2120-2126).
310 Kécharitôménè, p. 137 (2100-2115).
311 Kécharitôménè, p. 139.
312 Kécharitôménè, p. 123 (1821-1823).
313 In the prosopographical study on Komnenian oikos, Varzos mentiones only Alexios, John,
Eirene and Maria – Varzos, 1984, p. 97. Nevertheless, in the obituary of the monastery of Christ
Philanthropos, there is a mention of two late sons of Anna Komnene – Andronikos (21 September)
and Constantine (30 October) – Kouroupou, Commémoraisons, p. 43 (number 5 and 8). It seems
that these two boys had most probably died very young, wherefore we do not encounter him in
Varzos’ survey.
the ‘mirror reflection’ of the family picture we encounter in the Alexiad.

Andronikos and Maria were Anna’s ‘most beloved’ brother and sister, the
only siblings to which Anna made an emotional connection. The name
Constantine definitely recalls the memory of the late Constantine Doukas,
and, apart from that, this name was particularly linked to the imperial
traditions of the Doukai. The name Alexios Komnenos was chosen quite
predictably to connect with the founder of the dynasty. However, the most
interesting is the case of the son, John Doukas, who bore the name typical of
the Komnenoi but, conversely, without the same surname. It was probably
devoted to the memory of the most successful member of the Doukai house,
to the Caesar John Doukas, of whose legacy Eirene Doukaina was in charge.
It is able to assume that the name John Doukas was also used as Anna’s
intention to defy her brother, by taking his name and not his surname for
her son. If it was John Komnenos, it would be a generous homage to the
brother and emperor. Instead, it was homage to Eirene’s forefather. Finally,
the act of naming her children Eirene Doukaina and John Doukas presents
a complete confirmation of Anna’s politics devoted to exclusive laudation
of her mother’s genos, and to the idea of Anna’s as the only successor of her
mother and the Doukai’ oikos.
6 Komnenian Philia
Alexios’ reign is considered revolutionary in terms of a specific imperial

ideology that imposed the house of the Komnenoi as the ruling entity, with
the emperor on the top of this strict family hierarchy.1 The most prominent
and most extreme case of disqualification of all potential throne candidates
that could have threatened the imperial right of his sons was that of Basil I
(867-886). He sealed the destiny of his four daughters by putting them into
a monastery. Thus, he secured the imperial fate of his sons. Nevertheless,
by investing all of them with imperial titles, he did not actually overcome
the most problematic issue, that of male siblings and their mutual relations.
Alexios’ managerial skills in governing the empire proved to be wiser, since
he succeeded in overpowering the most powerful aristocratic houses of the
11th century by continuing his mother’s kinship politics by outmanoeuvring
political opponents and making them her in-laws.2 Thus, at the end of the
11th century, the Komnenian oikos emerged as the most densely intertwined
social group of the eminent aristocratic houses. For Anna Dalassene and
her son, the safest way of making someone confident was to make him kin.
Nevertheless, this politics had its own flaws that were manifested in the
subsequent decades of the 12th century. The insurrections of the 11th century
had only changed its attire – dissatisfied members of powerful aristocratic
houses were replaced by the members of the Komnenian house who all
considered them suitable claimants for the imperial throne.3 The most
sensitive category was that of the purple-born children – the so-called
porphyrogennetoi – and these strifes we encounter already in the first genera-
tion of the Komnenoi. 4 They were all purple-born and descendants of the
same parents from two powerful houses – the Komnenoi and the Doukai.
Then, what was the possible distinction that made one porphyrogennetos
more eligible than the other? The alternative discourse that was created
in the Alexiad shows clearly that one branch of the ruling family – that of
the Doukai – sought to make association to their house the most important
1 Among many studies devoted to Komnenian government essential contributions to the

field were provided by Angold, 1984; Angold 1995; Magdalino, 1984, Magdalino, 1993; Magdalino,
1996a; Magdalino, 1996b; Stanković, 2006.
2 For a detail analysis of Anna Dalassene as a ‘policymaker’ see Stanković, 2006, p. 17-39; On
the Komnenian women see Hill, 1996, p. 37-54; Hill, 1999, p. 72-150; Garland, 1999, p. 180-199.
3 For power struggles in the 11th and 12th century see Cheynet, 1996, esp. p. 157-173.
4 Namely, with the conflict between John Komnenos and Anna Komnene, and with more
serious, insurrection of their younger brother, Isaac Komnenos.
prerequisite for succession. And even though we know that Alexios’ politics
established the male successor rule, it is important to reconsider this other
discourse in order to understand the crucial aspects and problems of the
Komnenian rule and the place of the Doukai within it.
I wonder if Alexios’ kainotomia, as Anna put it, was actually the author’s
criticism of her father’s politics. This specific word, which usually denotes
novelty and change as potential disorder of imperial taxonomy, is used
to explain Alexios’ novelties in the government, namely that his brothers
were invested with new titles. Apart from Isaac Komnenos, Alexios’ other
brothers are rarely featured in this history. Adrian, who held the supreme
command of the imperial forces, is barely mentioned in the story of Alexios’
war deeds. This paradox is just one of its kind. Nikephoros, the commander
of the imperial fleet is also completely left out from the history. John Kom-
nenos, Alexios’ son and heir, and Isaac Komnenos, younger brother of Anna
Komnene, pertain to this category of dim personages of the Alexiad.
Anna’s presentation of the Komnenoi is selective and politically coloured.
It perfectly corresponds with Anna’s main argument – Alexios’ rule was
commendable as long as it was conducted conjointly with his mother and
his elder brother. The issue of the ‘mother of the Komnenoi’ will be in the
focus of my investigation, as well as the relationship between Isaac and
Alexios. This ruling paradigm in the Alexiad personifies Anna’s personal
conception of ideal rulership.
By using Aristotelian rhetoric as a basic interpretative tool in the
reading process of the Alexiad, one can infer a missing premise. Anna’s
selectivity towards her siblings is a good example to begin with. Out of
the eight children of Alexios and Eirene, only sisters Maria and Eudokia,
and brother Andronikos were mentioned in a praising manner.5 The two
most important siblings – John, the future emperor, and Isaac, the future
imperial opponent – were, in case of the former, rarely mentioned or, in the
case of the later, not mentioned at all. The presentation and construction of
relations among members of the Komnenian oikos depended completely on
Anna’s enthymemes, and the way she positioned her arguments. When it
comes to the issue of Anna’s alleged coup it is hard to assess the seriousness
of the threat imposed to John Komnenos’ succession. However, I would opt
for slight change of perspective – towards Eirene’s coup and not Anna’s. As
the augousta, Eirene Doukaina was the only influential person inside the
Komnenian house that could threaten the established succession line. She
5 For each member of the Komnenian oikos the most extensive survey is a prosopographical
study by Varzos, 1984.
KOMNENIAN PHILIA 271
was a member of the powerful, highly-influential and most probably richest

aristocratic house in Constantinople, with a formidable network of clients.
Eirene was most likely the genuine deviser of the whole plan and Anna
fittingly blended in. Nevertheless, one can hardly refute Anna’s discontent
about the outcome of these events.
Now it is time to contextualise some important aspects of the Alexiad
that deal with the members of her father’s house. Why are we left with the
picture of Alexios as ‘faible devant les femmes’?6 As a historian and a politi-
cian concurrently, what did Anna present as the main political argument of
her story? Who is actually the hero and the ideal ruler according to Anna’s
own measures? This is the story where a woman became a historiographer
and a politician. I contend that the ideal ruling example for Anna Komnene
was her grandmother, Anna Dalassene and not Alexios. Anna’s key political
argument lies precisely in the portrayal of the ‘mother of the Komnenoi’.
Mother of the Komnenoi7
And if that which is greatest in one class surpass that which is greatest in another
class, the first class will surpass the second; and whenever one class surpasses
another, the greatest of that class will surpass the greatest of the other. For
instance, if the biggest man is greater than the biggest woman, men in general
will be bigger than women; and if men in general are bigger than women, the
biggest man will be bigger than the biggest woman; for the superiority of classes
and of the greatest things contained in them are proportionate.
− Aristotle, Rhetoric, 1.7.4
But what if the biggest woman surpasses the biggest man?
How a hero is made
Anna Dalassene represents one of the three female protagonists of the

Alexiad. She is politically most important for Anna Komnene, as a role
model.8 The author’ argument is situated in the third book of the Alexiad,
6 Lemerle, 1977, p. 298

7 As Gouma-Peterson correctly observed ‘the appellation establishes the widowed Dalassene
as the powerful matriarch of a military family preparing, with their mother’s full blessing, to
usurp imperial power’ – Gouma-Peterson, 2000, p. 114.
8 cf. Gouma-Peterson, 2000, p. 115; Hill, 2000, p. 54, According to Hill ‘Anna Dalassene must
be given some of the credit for the successful transformation of one more revolt into a stable
where we come across the elaborate description of women’s prowess in rule.

In charge of the internal imperial politics, the ‘mother of the Komnenoi’ was
a perfect cornerstone for Anna’s political ideology that focused immensely
on women’s ruling ability.9
Anna Komnene’s construction of a female hero was conducted as part
of her personal political agenda. For the author, the main concern was her
grandmother’s gender transgressive behaviour.10 Building on the idea of
an ideal ruler, she created this unique female protagonist. Anna Dalassene
is extraordinary, since she superseded all men and women, and her ethos,
Komnene shows us, was comprised of the best qualities of both genders.
One of the most important traits in constructing a hero is entrusting him
with an agency. The hero has to act in specific circumstances, in a certain
manner that corresponds with his presupposed laudable qualities, and his
actions are supposed to serve as an encouraging and incentive role model.
The peculiarity of the Alexiad in this respect is the phenomenon of women’s
agency, which is a rare occurrence in Byzantine historiography, since its
thematic elements are imbued with male discourses. Historiography is
especially considered a narrative representation of the omnipotent male
discourse, where the men act, influence and affect.11 Counter to this, in the
Alexiad, women feature as agents at the level of the plot. More precisely, in
the tense moments of the Komnenian insurrection, Anna Dalassene appears
as the leader of her oikos who acts in the spatial setting of Constantinople,
while her sons are gathering troops outside the polis.
This narrative style produced an impression of simultaneous actions of
both men and women of the Komnenian oikos, and their equal contribution
to the final success of the rebellion.12 One whole chapter is devoted to Anna
Dalassene’s agency in the tense moments of the Komnenian insurrection
where she managed to outwit the imperial men and protect all female
members of her oikos.
dynasty’ – Hill, 2000, p. 51; This is absolutely true when it comes to overall scholarly assessment
of Dalassene’s role and influence. However, this appraisal was delivered mostly on the basis of
Anna Komnene’s account.
9 For Anna’s presentation of the ‘women’s exertion of power’ see Hill, 2000, p. 53-58.
10 The ‘male-side’of Dalassene’s character and the atypical image of the mother figure was
stressed also by Stanković, 2006, p. 154-155.
11 For this aspect of ‘male plots’ and male discourses in the narratological context see
Vilimonović, 2015, p. 11; for historiography as a ‘male domain of politics and warfare’ see Neville,
2014, p. 266-267.
12 Alexias, II 5, 1-9, p. 65-69.
Three chapters of Book III – six, seven and eight – are dedicated to the
topic of Anna Dalassene’s joint rule with Alexios.13 Thus, we see Dalassene
active in the Komnenian insurrection, during the first stages of Alexios’
establishment on the throne and in the story about the family rivalry with
the Doukai. Furthermore, we see her as Alexios’ co-ruler.
It is beyond doubt that Anna Dalassene exercised great authority in the
first decade of Alexios’ rule. Some important documents bear her seals and
were issued in the name of the imperial majesty.14 Nevertheless, the only
source that dwells on the story of Dalassene’s political prowess is Anna
Komnene’s Alexiad. One of the few documents transmitted verbatim 15 in
the Alexiad is the Golden Bull (διὰ χρυσοβοὺλλου λόγου), in which Alexios
invests his mother with the imperial authority. Just before delivering the
whole document, Anna stresses again she writes a history – ἐπεὶ δὲ τὸν
ἱστορίαν συγγράφοντα – and finds it necessary to provide a verbatim text
of the whole document with the seemingly unimportant self-reflective
utterance on the omission of ‘the scribe’s embellishments’. Thus, through
this crucial metanarrative comment, Anna addresses the genre of her work
once more to stress the truthfulness of her writing. Nevertheless, in the
following lines, we come across diverse rhetorical decorative vocabulary.
What was Anna’s intention with this blatant discrepancy? Why did she put
this comment in this specific place of her narrative?
It is important to stress that the intentional play with history and en-
komion, which was deployed in the passages of Anna Dalassene, tends to
stress the truthfulness of Anna’s account from the beginning until the end of
these three chapters. Anna offered the Golden Bull as a proof of her sense of
historicism and tendency to present this whole narrative unit as ‘historical
truth’. Everything that precedes (chapter VI) and that comes after (chapters
VII and VIII) the Golden Bull is expected to be taken as bare truth by the
readers. In the opening lines of chapter VIII, Anna addresses once more
that she will avoid encomiastic style in her historical writing, although, she
concludes: ‘someone else would follow the law of enkomion on her place’.
13 Alexias, III 6-8, p. 100-109.

14 For example, charters issued for Christodulos of Patmos, protégé of Anna Dalassene, are
very important for us. Two charters (despoinikon pittakion) of 1087 and 1088 bear the seal of the
emperor’s mother (καὶ ἡ διὰ κηροῦ σφραγὴς τῆς ἁγίας ημῶν δεσποίνης) – Acta Pathmou, p. 331, 334,
344.
15 The question in the brackets has been posed by Gouma Peterson and I would accept her
skepticism, that is, a possibility that the Golden Bull might have been a reconstruction of Anna
Komnene. – Gouma-Peterson, 2000, p. 115. However, for now this remains only as an insightful
speculation.
She continues once again with her formula ‘I am writing a history’ – ‘ἐμοὶ δὲ
ἱστορίαν ξυγγραφούσῃ’. Her characterisation of Anna Dalassene, she asserts,
will not dwell on the issue of her progeny and kinship, as customary in an
enkomion, but on her moral qualities and her way of life, ‘as the composition
of history commends’ – ‘ὁπόσον ὁ τῆς ἱστορίας ὑποτίθεται λόγος’.16 The following
crucial statement follows immediately after: ‘She was the greatest honour,
not only for women, but for men also, and an ornament of human nature’.
(ἀξίωμα μὲν οὖν μέγιστον αὐτὴ οὐ γυναικῶν μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἀρρένων καθίστατο
καὶ κόσμος τῆς ἀνθρωπίνης φύσεως)17
This is one of many sentences in which Anna places her grandmother’s
qualities in relation to both genders. By adding male traits to her female
protagonist, she was able to create a picture of an ideal ruler. From the
very beginning of this narrative unit (chapters VI-VIII), Anna attributes to
Dalassene male characteristics, saying that ‘she excelled all existing people
of those times in her mind and knowledge’, (κατ’ἐκεῖνο καιροῦ γεγονότας
ἀνθρώπους εἰς φρόνησίν τε καὶ σύνεσιν πραγμάτων ὑπερλαύνει)18 and that,
‘without her mind and judgment the Empire would be lost’. (ἄτερ τῆς ἐκείνης
φρενὸς καὶ γνώμης ἀπολεῖται τῆς βασιλείας τὰ πράγματα).19
The author stresses that since her youth she had revealed the soundness
of mind and dignity.20 In addition to all other qualities, Anna Dalassene was
bestowed also with the art of speech as one of the most highly praised traits:
Her intellectual powers, moreover, were paralleled by her command of

language. She was indeed a most persuasive orator, without being verbose
or longwinded. Nor did the inspiration of the argument readily desert
her, for if she began on a felicitous note, she was also most successful in
ending her speeches with just the right words.21
Her involvement in the imperial government is described in the typical

allegory of a helmsman that successfully navigates the ship through a
tempestuous sea:
She wanted to go through the waves of the Empire together with her son,
and to navigate the vessel in the most excellent way through the waves
16 Alexias, III 8,1 (55.63), p. 105

17 Alexias, III 8,2 (64.65), p. 105.
18 Alexias, III 7,5 (53.54), p. 105.
19 Alexias, III 6,1 (17.18), p. 100.
20 Alexias, III 7,3 (34.35), p. 104.
21 Alexiad, p.119; Alexias, III 7,3 (23.27), p. 104.
that were crashing from all sides. Mostly because of her son, who had
just taken over the helm of the state […] And since she loved her son, she
governed the empire together with her son and emperor, and occasionally
she undertook the reins alone and without stumbling and making any
mistake she drove the imperial chariot.22
Anna Dalassene had a mind of a ruler (βασίλειος γνώμη), and was, ‘the most
skilful in imperial affairs and ingeniously marshalled and ordained the
politics, in that way that she was able not only to govern the Roman Empire,
but any other empire under the sun as well’.23
Anna’s wording and arrangement of the narrative on her grandmother’s
rulership has two generic framings – one is historical and the other is enco-
miastic. The historical framing is focused on the document of the Golden
Bull, which has a different vocabulary than other parts of this narrative
unit. The relationship between the emperor and his mother is described
in the term of familial love, and mother’s care for her son. She is called a
‘venerable, sympathetic and loving mother’ (μητρὸς συμπαθοῦς/τῇ ἡγιασμένῃ
καὶ πανεντιμοτάτῃ μητρὶ), and their mutual relation is described as ‘one soul
that inhabits two bodies’.24 Anna’s own interpretation of the mother-son
relationship is significantly different, and has an air of irony that serves a
specific political agenda.
The beginning of Alexios’ rule (τά τῆς Ἀλεξίου βασιλείας προοίμια) has
a significant intertextual dependence on Michael Psellos’ account of the
commencement of Constantine IX Monomachos’ reign. The book VI of the
Chronographia starts with the rule of two empresses, Zoe and Theodora, and
conveys the idea of a weakened empire personified in the rule conducted
from the women’s chambers (γυναικωνίτις).25 Therefore, the significant
change that happened in the way the empire was governed contributed
further to the waning of the empire’s affairs. The rule conducted from the
gynaikonitis represented an important prelude to Constantine’s ascendance.
And even with the rise of Monomachos, the gynaikonitis did not lose its
symbolic value, since it imbued the story of Monomachos’ reign with the
idea of further collapse. Psellos’ account of Monomachos was focused on
his love affairs, wherefore the gynaikonitis continued to play an important
narrative role. Anna Komnene transmits Psellos’ idea in the following lines,
22 cf. Alexiad, p. 116.

23 Alexias, III 7,2 (16.19), p. 103.
24 Alexias, III 6,4 (45.53), p. 101.
25 Psellos, Chronographia, VI, 1-5, p. 1-7-109.
The women’s chambers of the palace were morally corrupt, after

Monomachos was crowned and soon after turned to various irrational
love affairs. It was like that until the reign of my father, when they
changed to great prominence, and were brought to laudable order. At
those days the palace was praised. She [Anna Dalassene] set the time
for the prayers, for the breakfast and for the arrival of the officials. In
all her affairs, there were measure and rule, so that palace appeared
more like a monastery.26
We can observe how Anna used Psellos’ account about this degradation
of the imperial power personified in the gynaikonitis as a spatial setting
for the emperor’s debauchery, and how she changed its symbolic value.
Gynaikonitis under Dalassene became an antynomy of the gynaikonitis
under Constantine IX Monomachos. From the place of imperial lecherous
life, it was transformed to the place of monastic kind of life. This happened
due to Anna Dalassene’s austere and pious way of life. It is interesting that
Anna does not mention Dalassene’s monastic habit, which she obtained
most probably after the death of her husband John Komnenos. Crucial
evidence for her taking of monastic vows in the 1070’s is a preserved seal
from the time when she was kouropalatissa, on which we read the fol-
lowing inscription: ‘Mother of God. / Theotokos aid your servant Anna
Dalassene, nun and kouropalatissa’.27 Her official seals from the time of
Alexios’ rule bear different kind of inscription: ‘Lord aid Anna Dalassene,
nun and mother of the emperor’.28 This important evidence indisputably
suggests Dalassene’s early acquisition of monastic vows. During the most
important years of political activity, she was a nun, and it was part of
her official denomination, according to all preserved seals. Nevertheless,
her granddaughter somehow ‘failed’ to mention Dalassene as a nun. She
describes her as being philomonachos, and dwells on her favouritism to
the monks, stating that,
26 Alexias, III 8,2 (66.73), p. 105.

27 ‘Μήτηρ Θεοῦ. / Θεοτόκε βοήθει τῇ σῇ δούλῃ ῎Αννῃ μοναχῇ καὶ κουροπαλατίσσῃ τῇ Δαλασσενῇ’
– Schlumberger, 1884, p. 650; Lichačev, 1911, p. 90; Laurent, Corpus, Vol. 2 no. 1460; Laurent,
Corpus, Vol. 3 p. 300, no.1460.
28 Κύριε βοήθει ῎Αννῃ μοναχῇ τῇ Δαλασσηνῇ / τῇ μητρὶ τοῦ βασιλέως – Dalassene’s seals are in the
following collections: Zacos-Veglery, Byzantine Seals, no. 2696; Zacos-Veglery, Byzantine Seals,
no. 2696 c; Zacos-Veglery, Byzantine Seals, no. 2696 a-b; Laurent, Corpus, Vol. 3 no. 2008; Laurent,
Corpus, Vol. 2 no. 1461; Cheynet-Vannier, 1986, p. 98; Antokolskaja, Pečati Anni Dalassinoj, p. 59;
Oikonomides, Dated Seals, no. 102.
She especially honoured the priests and monks. She dined with them, and
no one could see her dining-table without the company of the monks.29
In the Alexiad, there are many allusions to the fact that Anna Dalassene wore
a monastic habit. However, Anna omits the final statement and weaves her
narrative around Anna Dalassene’s austere character and her favourable
disposition toward monks. The answer to Anna’s avoidance of mentioning
her grandmother in the monastic habit can be found in Zonaras’ account
on this matter, where he said:
After Alexios was crowned, he granted his brother Isaac the second rank
in the empire, creating a new honour for him: he was named sebastocrator
and was above the Caesar. And their mother was not assigned with
imperial emblem, since she wore a monastic habit. And she did not
participate in the imperial acclamations and public proclamations, and
only shared the imperial title, yet nevertheless the whole administration
was entrusted to her.30
Although Zonaras’ account also testifies to the significant involvement

of Anna Dalassene in imperial politics, there is a notion that she was not
officially enthroned due to her monastic habit. That limitation, being only
de jure, was avoided by Anna Komnene in her extensive elaboration on
Dalassene’s place in the imperial hierarchy. Anna’s awareness of the impedi-
ments imposed by a monastic garb is stressed in this passage:
It was his desire that his mother should govern rather than himself, but so
far the plan had been concealed for fear that she, if she knew of it, might
leave the palace (Alexios was aware that she considered withdrawal to
a monastery).31
Presenting Dalassene as a nun would seriously distort the picture of her as

the holder of supreme imperial power. Her partaking in the management
of the empire could not coincide with the humbleness and humility of a
monastic life. Anna’s political implications regarding this matter are quite
clear. She speaks of this regarding Botaneiates’ adoption of a monastic habit:
29 Alexias, III 8,3 (79.81), p. 105.

30 Zonaras, XVIII, .21.6, p. 731-732.
31 Alexias, III 6,1 (10.13), p. 100, Alexiad, p. 115-116.
Such is the way of Fortune: when she wishes to smile on a man she exalts
him on high, crowns him with a royal diadem, gives him sandals of purple;
but when she frowns, instead of the purple and the crown, she clothes
him in ragged garments of black.32
The message is clear – monasticism in a political discourse of the imperial

court was considered a mark of a political failure.33 In this sense, monasti-
cism as Dalassene’s course (and choice) of life could not fit into Anna’s
own argument about the imperial role model. For the sake of her strict
and austere profile, Anna delivered the story about Dalassene’s perpetual
striving for the higher life, and her almost undesired involvement in the
imperial government to which she was obliged by her son.
Anna assures us that she will not deliver an enkomion, but she precisely
does that, investing her grandmother with formulas of prudence (σωφροσύνη)
and benevolence (φιλανθρωπία), describing her also as the possessor of
Aristotelian ethos disposed towards reasoning through arguments for the
sake of the empire.34
The character of Dalassene was created as a focal point of Anna Komnene’s
both gender and political discourses. In the Alexiad her grandmother bears
the title of empress (βασιλίς), although in the official document issued by the
emperor, the Golden Bull, we encounter her under the names of despoina, and
mother (μήτηρ). In the imperial pittakia, Dalassene is addressed as ‘my revered
despoina’.35 Likewise, in the monastery typica of the imperial endowments of
Empress Eirene – Virgin Kecharitomene – and of Emperor Alexios – Christ
Philantropos – in the commemorations of the imperial family, we encounter
Anna Dalassene as despoina and ‘mother of the emperor’, respectively. With
regard to this, the first typikon (of the monastery of Virgin Kecharitomene) is
especially important, because Anna Dalassene is the only person mentioned
in the obituary without her full name and title, according to the custom:
32 Alexiad, p. 103; Alexias, III 1,1 (12.16), p. 87: ‘οἶα τὰ τῆς τύχης. ὑψοῦ μὲν αἴρει τὸν ἀνθρώπινον βίον,
ὅτε ἐπιμειδιᾶν αὐτῷ θελήσειε, καὶ διάδημα βασιλικὸν αὐτῷ περιτίυησι καὶ περιπορφύρει τὰ πέδιλα, ἐπὰν
δὲ τὰς ὀφρῦς τούτοις ἐπισυνάξῃ, ἀντὶ πορφυρίδος καὶ τῶν στεμμάτων τὰ μέλανα ῥάκη καταμφιέννυσιν’.
33 This is also part of Anna’s mimicry of Psellos, who was prominent for his negative disposi-
tion toward monks and monasticism, due to the imposed tonsure after his fall from Emperor
Monomachos’ favour. In Encomium for his Mother he dwells on the issue of his current position
saying, ‘And if indeed my monastic habit and cloak appear to be irreconcilable in some way to
the emperor and his court, this is no innovation of mine alone, but is believed to be for the best
not only by those who remain in public life but also by the majority of those who live separate
from it’ – Psellos, Encomium for His Mother, p. 108.
34 Alexias, III 8,3 (74.92), p.105-106.
35 ‘τῆς ἁγίας ἡμῶν δεσποινής’ – Acta Pathmou, p. 331, 334, 344.
On the 1st of November the commemorations must be celebrated in the

same way for my sanctif ied Lady (τῆς ἡγιασμένης μου δεσποίνης) the
mother-in-law of my majesty.36
This occurrence calls for attention, since it testifies to Eirene’s restraint

and alienation from her mother-in-law. In the commemorative list for the
closest members of her family, Eirene did not find it necessary to address
her mother-in-law by her name. But apart from this apparent interfamilial
disharmony, more important in this sense is the title despoina. In neither
of the two typica did we come across the title ‘empress’ (basilis) for Anna
Dalassene, which we encounter in the Alexiad two times. It is because she
was not remembered as empress, but rather as the ‘mother of the emperor’
and despoina in the official documents. For Anna Komnene, she was more
than just a ‘mother’. She was the empress, grandmother and the ‘mother of
the Komnenoi’. All three of these denominations have high value for her.
In the finishing lines of the elaborate description of Anna Dalassene’s
co-rulership with Alexios, Anna referred to her as ‘the empress and the
mother of Emperor Alexios’.37 She mentions that ‘for the short period of time
she was able to see her and to admire her’, and that ‘all that was previously
sad is not a boast, as everyone who saw themselves would agree if they
wish to uncover the truth without prejudices’.38 In these lines, Anna again
employs the game of truth and boast, stressing that she writes a history,
and that she did not venture into composing an enkomion:
Now if some orator had decided to make this the subject of a panegyric,
he would no doubt have exalted her and praised her to the skies (as is
the way of encomiasts) for her deeds and thoughts and superiority to all
others; the famous ones of old, both men and women, who were renowned
for their virtue would certainly have been thrown into the shade. But
such licence is not for the writer of history. Those who know her virtue,
therefore, her dignif ied character, her never-failing sagacity and the
loftiness and sublimity of her spirit, must not blame my history, if I have
done less than justice to her great qualities.39
36 Byzantine Monastic Foundation Documents, 2000, p.702; For the Greek text see Kécharitô-
menè, p. 125.
37 ἡ βασιλὶς καὶ μήτηρ τοῦ αὐτοκράτορος Ἀλεξίου – Alexias, III 8,10 (72), p. 109.
38 Alexias, III 8,11 (73.75), p. 109.
After this passage, Komnene focuses on the place where Dalassene used to
pray frequently. It was the church of St. Thecla, built by the Emperor Isaac
Komnenos. In this rare mention of the imperial Komnenian predecessor,
Anna makes an important connection between him and Dalassene by
delivering an encomiastic comparison (σύγκρισις), personified in the spatial
setting of the palace chapel of St. Thecla’s.40 Dalassene’s famous endowment,
for which she was renowned, was the monastery of Christ Pantepoptes. 41
Yet, her monastic endowment is not featured in the pages of the Alexiad.
The only sacral space where we see Dalassene is the chapel of St. Thecla
situated in the complex of Blachernae Palace. Isaac’s chapel symbolised
connection of the Komnenian genos with their imperial legacy. 42 In Anna
Komnene’s narrative, Dalassene was the only one connected with Isaac’s
imperial legacy and his first successor. In this particular passage, Isaac is
presented in relation to Dalassene: ‘I will now tell the reason for which this
church was built by the autocrator Isaac Komennos and her brother-in-law’.43
To conclude, although we rarely come across the idea of the Komnenian
imperial legacy, Anna Dalassene’s specific connection with Isaac’s legacy44
can be easily explained since she was presented as the most dissatisfied
member of the Komnenian house after Isaac’s withdrawal from the throne,
and his entrusting of the empire to the rival house of the Doukai. 45 Bryen-
nios’ story has actually been recast in Anna’s Komnene Alexiad. The story
of Dalassene’s husband’s failure to take the throne for the Komnenians have
been adapted to suit the story about Dalassene’s taking over of the throne
and her own success in bringing the Komnenians back.
Direct connection between Alexios and Isaac Komnenos was never made
in the Alexiad. It was widely used in Prodromos political verses, to show
the roots of the Komnenian imperial legacy, and their preeminence over
the Doukai. Yet, in Anna Komnene’s perception of the Komnenian imperial
legacy in the focus was, not connection between Isaac and Alexios, but
between Isaac and Anna Dalassene. This passage symbolically presented
40 This peculiarity of Anna’s narrative – connection between Anna Dalassene and Isaac’s
endowment – was also noted by Stanković, 2006, p. 272.
41 Even in the charters that were previously mentioned, we come across Dalassene’s endow-
ment, the Monastery of Christ Pantepoptes. These charters were issued in the late 80’s of the
11th century.
42 Cf. Stanković, 2006, p. 272
43 ὅπερ ὁ αὐτοκράτωρ Ἰσαάκιος ὁ Κομνηνὸς καὶ ἀνδράδελφος αὐτῆς ἐξ αἰτίας τοιαύτης ἐδείματο.
– Alexias, III 8,5 (17.18), p. 106.
44 See also Stanković, 2011, p. 51.
Dalassene as second ruler from the genos, the one that came after Isaac in
the Komnenian succession line. ‘Mother of the Komnenoi’ was, according
to Anna’s message, responsible for bringing the imperial sceptre back to
their hands. It was a strong homage to women’s political prowess.
Where two Annas meet
Anna’s narrative technique of connecting herself directly with the key

protagonist has various forms. A highly conspicuous one is the application
of personal pronouns and the emphasis on familial relations with a certain
character. Anna Dalassene is not an exception in this regard. However,
we have only one place in the whole text where Anna directly refers to
Dalassene as her grandmother. It is a place in the text where Anna speaks
about prejudice that concerned women’s ability to govern the empire:
At this point the reader may well censure him [my father] for transferring
the government of the Empire to the gynaikonitis, but had he known
this woman’s spirit, her surpassing virtue, intelligence and energy, his
reproaches would soon have turned to admiration. For my grandmother
had an exceptional grasp of public affairs, with a genius for organisation
and government; She was capable, in fact, of managing not only the Roman
Empire, but every other empire under the sun as well. 46
This passage clearly shows Anna’s pattern of gendering the narrative,

where the author’s argument focused on women’s ability to rule and on the
statement that the empire was actually governed from the gynaikonitis.
Although a rather unbefitting trait of Alexios’ rule, for Anna, this ‘stumbling
block’ of her father’s policies was turned into a ‘cornerstone’ of her own
policy in which the rule should be conducted from the gynaikonitis, since it
proved to be a highly efficient mode of government. This peculiar ‘gendered’
transformation of the imperial government happened due to the ability
of Anne Komnene’s grandmother. Anna’s decision to connect with her
grandmother in this particular passage is part of her political manifesto
that appreciated women’s rule above men’s. She also considered herself
as direct and only female descendant of Dalassene, as the other powerful
Anna from the Komnenian house.
One more passage delivers an important comparison between the two
Annas. It pertains to the VI book, which is symbolic for Anna Komnene’s
46 Alexiad, p.119; Alexias, III 7,2 (11.19), p. 103.

self-representational agenda. In the narrative about Alexios’ war campaign

against Robert Guiscard, we encounter an embedded narrative on the birth
of the three imperial children. Structurally, this story is preceded by the
account on the astrologers and Anna’s scepticism towards this science. The
sequencing of the narrative units is as follows:
– Gusicard’s death (Chapter 6);
– prophecy about Gusicard’s death (Chapter 7);
– story about astrologers (Chapter 7);
– prophecy about Alexios’ death (Chapter 7);
– Anna Dalassene’s death (Chapter 7);
– concluding remarks about Robert Guiscard (Chapter 7);
– Alexios’ triumph and return to Constantinople (Chapter 8);
– birth of Anna Komnene (Chapter 8);
– birth of Maria Komnene (Chapter 8);
– birth of John Komnenos (Chapter 8).
The flow of the narrative connects these two stories: the prophecy about
Robert Guiscard’s death, which led to the story about the astrologers, and
the prophecy about Alexios’ death, which lead to the account of Anna
Dalassene’s death. Chapter 7 ended with the story of Robert Guiscard’s
death, which enabled Alexios to return triumphantly to the capital, where
he found his empress in labour. Chapter 8 opened with Alexios’ triumph,
which announced the most important event for the dynasty: the birth of the
first purple-born child, Anna Komnene. Historically, the sequence of events
in this part of the Alexiad should neither have included the mention of Anna
Dalassene’s death, nor the birth of the three imperial scions, since these
events happened in the lapse of almost one decade. Therefore, we should
reconsider Anna’s message that can be deduced from the arrangement of
the text in this part of the narrative. 47
In the excurse on astrologers, Anna recounted the story about the
prophecy of Emperor Alexios’ death, which proved to be more inexact than
inaccurate. Alexios did not die on the foretold day, but something curious
happened in the palace then. At first, on the presaged day, a lion that lived
in the palace died, and on the day foretold by the second prophecy, ‘basilis
Anna’ and his mother’ died. 48
The most important element of this passage is its position in the text. The
story of Anna Dalassene’s death does not belong chronologically to this part
47 Vilimonović, 2014, p. 48.

48 ἡ βασιλὶς Ἄννα καὶ μήτηρ αὐτοῦ – Alexias, VI 7,5 (50.51), p. 182.
of Anna’s history at all. The ‘mother of the Komnenoi’ is mentioned again and
for the last time in the events of 1095. 49 It is curious that the story of Anna
Dalassene does not have its logical ending in the history of Alexios’ reign,
as one might expect, since the emperor’s mother was a crucial figure of the
Komnenian insurrection, of the success and establishment of Alexios’ reign.
Yet, Anna did not venture to make succinct factual account of Alexios’ reign,
but rather to make elaborate historic- rhetorical composition for administer-
ing her personal agenda. Taking this as the starting premise for reading the
Alexiad, some obvious discrepancies, such as the actual role and life of Anna
Dalassene during her son’s reign, appear to be just the sequencing of Anna
Komnene’s enthymematic arguments. The characterisation of Dalassene
and her agency is focused on the most important aspect of Alexios’ rule, to
the actual seisure of the imperial power. She introduced her grandmother
in the most rewarding light in the first three books of the Alexiad, and later
she only mentioned her in passing, in commentaries. Thus, she left her
audience with the impression that Dalassene was omnipresent, ever since
we left her as Alexios’ co-ruler in Book III. Her fall from grace, or voluntary
withdrawal, was passed into silence.50 According to the Alexiad, we know
that Dalassene died at some point during Alexios’ reign, since her death was
mentioned, but it did not occur in the expected historiographical pattern
the reader would expect. Dalassene’s death was tucked into a seemingly
irrelevant passage. Nevertheless, the narrative technique applied in this
part of the text reveals a completely different context, which is political
and ideological.
Chapter 7 and the story about astrologers precedes one of the most
important autobiographical passages in the whole Alexiad. After making
an interlude with a short monody on Robert Guiscard, she opens the story
of the birth of new Anna. We learn of ‘the empress and the mother’ who is in
labour pains. What is crucial from the narratological point is that we meet
again ‘the empress and the mother’, but this time it is not the mother of the
emperor, the protagonist, but of Anna Komnene, the author. Here we see a
shift in narration, where a heterodiegetic narrator becomes an auto-diegetic
narrator. Through this medium, Anna Komnene becomes the ‘experiencing
I’ and we follow her intimate experience of her own birth. The mother in
this passage is her own mother, wherefore we are faced with the birth of a
new empress, Anna, which occurred, not chronologically but structurally,
after the death of Empress Anna.
49 Alexias, X 4,5 (64), p. 292.

50 The only paper that deals with Dalassene’s fall from favour is Runciman, 1949, passim.
Structural level – Denomination Whose mother? Micro-plot

place in text
Book VI, chapter 7, ‘Empress Anna of Emperor Alexios Death of Empress
lines 50-51 and his mother’ (ἡ Anna (ἡ βασιλὶς
βασιλὶς Ἄννα καὶ Ἄννα)
μήτηρ αὐτοῦ)
Book VI, chapter 7, ‘empress and moth- of the author Birth of ‘I’ (ἐγὼ)
line 87 er’ (τὴν βασιλίδα καὶ
μητέρα)
This table shows how Anna used a specific ploy of words and their symbolic
value to transmit an important political message. As I have already stressed,
at the structural level, these two stories that concern the imperial family
are presented in such a way that after the death of Empress Ana came the
birth of the first purple-born princess – Anna. This narrative structure did
not yield to the chronological pattern of event sequencing. Rather, it was
focused on the death of the mother of the emperor, whom Anna calls ‘the
empress’ (basilis), although Dalassene never bore that official title. It is even
more striking that this is the only place in the whole Alexiad where we come
across this specific denomination of Dalassene as basilis Anna. Was it an
unintentional coincidence? It was certainly not. Never before, or after, was
the ‘mother of the Komnenoi’ entitled as basilis Anna.51 This puzzling naming
of Anna Dalassene obviously stands in that part of the text to indicate its
antecedent, who is, after just one passage, the purple-born Anna.
Anna’s ambitions were, in this exemplary passage, laconically compiled in
the epithet she used in combination with her grandmother’s name: she was
not renowned as basilis Anna, but as the ‘mother of the Komnenoi’, ‘Anna
Dalassene’, despoina or simply ‘mother’. That mysterious empress that Anna
Komnene alludes to never actually came to power. It was rather her wish
to be one, which is apparent precisely from the selected narrative imagery
where the death of basilis Anna is superseded by the birth of the purple-born
Anna, the eponymous successor of her grandmother’s legacy.52 Psellos in
his Chronographia was especially peculiar for his crafting of characters
51 Anna Dalassene was called Dalassene, mother of the Komnenoi, or despoina. She was
officially called despoina, as we see in the documents she issued in the name of her son, the
emperor. This is the only place in the text were Dalassene is called basilis Anna, wherefore
we find it utterly peculiar and believe that it is necessary to have thorough analysis. For more
detailed account of Anna’s denominations of her grandmother see Vilimonović 2014b, p.46-47;
For general overview of the imperial titles of the Komnenian women see Hill, 1999, p. 102-117.
52 Zonara stresses that Anna was named according to Anna Dalassene (διὰ τὴν πατρομήτορα)
– Zonaras XVIII, 22, 19-31, p. 738.
of the same-named emperors as those that had similar or same destiny.53

His presentations of Constantines and Romanos’ could be interpreted as a
distinguished, Psellian, form of homonymous vitae parrallelae. This sort of
literary ploy was probably used for Anna Komnene to craft her grandmother’s
character – as a mirror reflection.
Doulos and Despotes
For the final conclusion about Anna’s construction of her ruling role model,
it is necessary to turn our attention to the specific relationship between
Emperor Alexios and his mother in the Alexiad. This uncommon mode of
rulership inaugurated by Alexios I Komnenos, served as a powerful model
for Anna’s political ideology. Although it is often emphasised that this
distinctive policy was Alexios’, I am convinced that this mode of managing
the empire’s affairs was Anna Dalassene’s concept, cleverly imposed on
her son.54
Anna Komnene presented Alexios as completely dependent upon his
mother’s wishes. Her statement on this peculiar relationship is a distorted
picture of this ruling couple:
But as I say, once he had seised power my father reserved for himself
the struggles and hard labour of war, while she became so to speak an
onlooker, but he made her sovereign (ἐκείνην δὲ δεσπότιν καταστησάμενος)
and like a slave said and did whatever she commanded (τὸ παρ΄ἐκείνης
κελευόμενον καθάπερ δοῦλος ἔλεγέ τε καὶ ἔπραττεν). He loved her exceed-
ingly and depended on her for advice (such was his affection for her)
(τοσοῦτον ἦν φιλομήτωρ). His right hand he devoted to her service; his
ears listened for her bidding. In all things he was entirely subservient,
in fact, to her wishes. I can sum up the whole situation thus: he was in
theory the emperor, but she had the real power.55
53 This interesting peculiarity of Psellos’ Chronographia has been noted and analyzed by Repajić,
especially in the case of Constantines – Constantine VIII and Constantine IX Monomachos,
and Romanos III and Romanos IV – Repajić, 2016, p. 368-376; 379-388.
54 Anna Dalassene’s politics was thoroughly analysed by Stanković, who focused on her activity
before the Komnenian insurrection and the idea of family rule that actually derived from the
concept of Dalassene’s political enterprise. For detailed account on this issue see Stanković,
2006, p. 17-36.
55 Alexiad, p. 119-120; ‘αλλ’, ὅπερ ἔλεγον, ὁ ἐμὸς πατὴρ τῆς βασιλείας ἐπιδραξάμενος τοὺς μὲν ἀγῶνας
καὶ τοὺς ἱδρῶτας ἑαυτῷ τεταμίευκε θεωρὸν τῶν ἀγώνων τὴν μητέρα ποιούμενος, ἐκείνην δὲ δεσπότιν
καταστησάμενος τὸ παρ’ἐκείνης κελευόμενον καθάπερ δοῦλος ἔλεγέ τε καὶ ἔπραττεν. ἔστεργεν οὖν
αὐτὴν ὁ βασιλεὺς ὑπερφυῶς καὶ τῶν αὐτῆς βουλεμάτων ἐξήρτητο (τοσοῦτον ἦν φιλομήτωρ) καὶ τὴν
Anna does not omit to emphasise Alexios’ submissive affection towards

his mother, presenting him as her minion. There is significant distinction
between the vocabulary of the Golden Bull and Anna’s own elaborations of
this mother-son relationship in the text before and after the document. In
the aforementioned document, Dalassene is a sympathethic and child-loving
(philopaidos) mother, a most holy despoina. In the Golden Bull, which Anna
delivered verbatim, there are no traces of Alexios’ obedient passivity in
relation to his mother which can be seen in the rest of the text, and this
depended solely on Anna’s personal narrative techniques. The Golden Bull
transmits the idea of a caring mother (although in this regard also with
political implications) who, due to her great affection towards her son,
was designated as his helper. We are faced with the emperor’s command
to his subjects to respect his mother’s wishes, assignments and ordinations
as his own. And although the text in this document might appear as the
emperor’s yielding of his supreme power to his mother, we should always
bear in mind that imperial charters in particular were ponderously replete
with all sorts of rhetorical embellishments. Other official documents testify
that the actual government of the empire was a highly composite entity. In
the charters sealed by Dalassene, we come across the compulsory signatures
of the imperial chancellery, from Alexios’ officials and secretaries.56 An
outstanding number of forty signatures in only one charter is an important
testimony of the imperial administration and the whole highly complex
machinery which functioned according to precisely defined rules.57 Anna
Dalassene did not hold supreme and absolute power as her granddaughter
wished us to believe.
Anna’s ploy with the words slave (δοῦλος) and sovereign (δεσπότης) in this
peculiar relationship has a caustic tone. The word doulos in the Alexiad is
used in the meaning of a subordinate person or entity towards the ruler or
the empire.58 In this sense, Alexios and Isaac were described in relation to
Empress Maria of Alania and Emperor Nikephoros III Botaneiates,: ‘You are
the sovereign, and we are servants, and grateful servants that are ready to
δεξιὰν ἐδίδου τῆς ἐκείνης γλώττης ὑπηρέτιν καὶ τὴν ἀκοὴν τῶν ἐκείνης φωνῶν εἰς ἀκρόασιν καὶ εἰς
ἅπαντα ταύτῃ ὁ βασιλεὺς σθγκατένευεν ἢ ἀνένευεν’ – Alexias, III 7,4 (36.45), p. 104.
56 ‘Les acts de chancelleries conserves de cite epoque montrent a l’evidence qu’Alexis n’a
jamais abdique entre ses mains son autorite souveraine, et c’est donc a tort qu’ on a prete a sa
mere vingt ans de pouvoir absolu’ – Gautier, 1980, p. 92, questions the amount of power that
Dalassene held in her hands, that was stressed by Diehl. Alexios did not actually give up his
authority.
57 Acta Pathmou, p. 344–346.
58 And this is the most common meaning of the word. cf. Stanković, 2006, p. 49.
face a death for the sake of Your Majesty’.59 And, once more, when Dalassene
vindicates her two sons in front of Emperor Botaneiates, the same formula is
used, ‘My sons are faithful servants of Your Majesty’.60 In the same manner,
two other ‘servants’ of Emperor Botaneiates are mentioned: Borilos and
Germanos, two douloi who schemed against Isaac and Alexios to blind
them. Regarding these two, the word doulos in relation to Alexios and
his mother has a deprecatory meaning. Judging from these examples, the
relation between doulos and despotes was that of absolute subordination.
That was basically the essence of Anna’s intention when she spoke about
her father as Dalassene’s doulos. The additional understanding provides
Aristotle in the opening lines of Politics:
And the union of natural ruler and natural subject for the sake of security
(for he that can foresee with his mind is naturally ruler and naturally
master, and he that can do these things with his body is subject and
naturally a slave; so that master and slave have the same interest.61
Thus, Dalassene was naturally a ruler, with the ruling ability to foresee,
while Alexios was her subject, with a physical force and ability to act in
favour of his despotes.
Apart from this formula, which Anna used above all to magnify her
grandmother, she used the term philometor to describe Alexios’ subordina-
tion to his mother. As already discussed, the terms philometor and philopator
were chosen to denote power relations within the Komnenian oikos. On
Anna’s semiotic scale, the word philometor bore an ironic sense that Alexios
was controlled by his mother, and acted according to his mother’s wishes.
In the Golden Bull, we find Dalassene as philopais, that is, as a mother who
acts in favour of her son, whereas in Anna’s own reflections this relationship
is described vice versa. The reproachful use of this term is conspicuous
in the story of Dalassene’s strife with the Caesar John Doukas, about the
coronation of Alexios’ spouse, Eirene Doukaina. Even though Alexios is
not featured in this story at all, one must certainly ask about his attitude
towards this sensitive political issue. This was a question of proclaiming
his wife augousta, and he must have had a clear stance in this controversy.
59 Alexias, II 2,3 (10.12), p. 58.

60 Alexias, II 5,5 (61.62), p. 67.
61 ‘τὸ μὲν γὰρ δυνάμενον τῇ διανοίᾳ προορᾶν ἄρχον φύσει καὶ δεσπόζον φύσει, τὸ δὲ δυνάμενον τῷ
σώματι ταῦτα πονεῖν ἀρχόμενον καὶ φύσει δοῦλον: διὸ δεσπότῃ καὶ δούλῳ ταὐτὸ συμφέρει’ – Aristotle,
Politics, 1.1252a.
The reader’s expectation is supplied by the author’s final remark delivered

in a seemingly unrelated commentary:
They returned to their despoina and reported the tidings (right beforehand
it was ordered to all subjects that she should be named like that according
to the wish of the mother-loving emperor (τοῦ φιλομήτορος βασιλέως). So,
on the seventh day after the public proclamation of Alexios’ accession,
his wife Eirene was crowned by the Patriarch Kosmas.62
Here we infer an important conclusion – the mother of the emperor acquired

the imperial title before his wife Eirene, and that happened only according
to the wish of the mother-loving emperor. The term philometor imposes itself
again as an indicator of the emperor’s political action and his siding with his
mother against the Doukai oikos. It shows that the Komnenians instituted
themselves on the imperial throne before they gave the same right to Eirene
Doukaina. Also, it shows that Alexios should be remembered as a mother-
loving emperor, since he approved and supported his mother’s antagonism
toward the Doukai family by raising her to imperial rank before his own wife.
A story without an ending
As a character, Dalassene is actively present in the first three books of the

Alexiad. One might conclude that she cannot be considered protagonist at
all since we are left with twelve more books with only rare mentions of the
emperor’s mother. Yet, if we follow Anna’s argument, then a quantitative
measurement of Dalassene’s presence in the whole Alexiad is completely
irrelevant.
Firstly, Dalassene appears as the leader of her oikos, a caring mother who
acted in favour of her sons. This premise is of the utmost importance since
it stresses the unity of Dalassene and her two sons. Again, Anna’s political
selectivity is present, since she dealt extensively only with these members
of the Komnenian house. Her aim was to stress the unity of the two eldest
siblings with their mother, as a commendable model of government and the
only one worthy of laudation. At first, we see that Alexios followed this policy,
although later events, in which this started to change, are blurred in the
Alexiad, and Dalassene, as Alexios’ most important advisor is not featured
in the story any more. Nevertheless, when Dalassene left the story, Eirene
Doukaina jumped in. Alexios was always encircled by his powerful women.
62 Alexias, III 2,7 (80.82), p. 93.

Anna’s construction of a politically most important female character,

shows that Dalassene actually represents the ideal ruler. Anna’s main preoc-
cupation in creating a picture of her grandmother was to stress women’s
ability to rule, and to govern an empire most successfully. Although the
prooimion of Alexios’ rule appears to be like Constantine IX Monomachos’,
a crucial change happened. Even though the empire, according to Anna,
was governed from the gynaikonitis, it was successful because the women’s
chambers changed during Dalassene’s times. It was not a place of imperial
debauchery, but instead, a place of the utmost respect and monastic austerity.
The question remains – if we notice a metamorphosis of the gynaikonitis
from its decadent state in the Chronographia to its laudable state in the
Alexiad, do we observe the same change in respect to the emperor’s image?
The reign of Constantine IX Monomachos is presented in the central book
of the Chronographia, and it bears the most extensive self-praise by Michael
Psellos. Monomachos was the man to whom Psellos owned his ascendancy in
the social hierarchy. Yet, this glorious story does not have the same glorious
ending. Psellos ended up as a political outcast at the end of Monomachos’
reign. This destiny of a political outcast and the self-apologetic story much
resembles Anna’s own ambiguous relationship with her father and her own
story, respectively.
Alexios’ politics was prudent while he shared it with his mother, and
his elder brother. After they were gone, a change happened again. Another
couple of close advisors and supporters came to the fore, and those were,
not coincidentally, Eirene Doukaina and Nikephoros Bryennios.
Anna Dalassene’s contribution is clear and undisputed. She brought
her oikos to supreme power. One passage suffices as a concluding remark:
I can sum up the whole situation thus: he was in theory the emperor,
but she had real power. She was legislator, the complete organiser and
governor, while he confirmed her arrangements, written and unwritten,
the former by his signature, the latter by his spoken approval. One might
say that he was indeed the instrument of her power – he was not emperor,
for all the decisions and ordinances of his mother satisf ied him, nor
merely as an obedient son, but as an attentive listener to her instruction
in the art of ruling. He was convinced that she had attained perfection
in everything and easily excelled all men of that generation in prudence
and understanding of affairs.63
63 Alexiad, p. 120; Alexias, III 7,5 (44.105), p. 104-105.

Orestes and Pylades
The most impressive case of interfamilial closeness in the Komnenian oikos is

the story of Isaac and Alexios Komnenos. Brotherly love is an actuating mo-
tive in the story of Alexios’ rise to the imperial throne. The motive of sibling
fellowship was promulgated in the use of the plural form ‘oi Komnenoi’ that
betokened exclusively the two aforementioned personages. This plural form
was used neither for Adrian Komnenos, nor Nikephoros, Alexios’ two other
siblings. It was coined specifically for Isaac and Alexios to denote their
political alliance in their joint undertaking. It was not done for literary
reasons solely. Namely, this specific brotherly comradeship bore a powerful
political message. This motive rendered the idea about joint acquisition
of the imperial sceptre, and about tight interfamilial connections within
the Komnenian genos.64 The impregnable trinity of Ana Dalassene, Isaac
Komnenos and Alexios Komnenos is constructed in the first book where
the introductory note delivers the story about a mother’s care for her sons.
This symbolic tie between Dalassene and Alexios is again used in the case
of Isaac and Alexios. Isaac is presented as a fully committed elder brother
who was justly treated after the rise of his younger brother.
Isaac Komnenos – ἀπόρφυρον βασιλέα
In the first chapter of Book I, Alexios commences his military career under
the command of his brother: ‘My father was serving under his brother who
had been put in command of all soldiers in both East and West’.65 Immediately
after, the story focuses on Alexios and his deeds, leaving aside Isaac until
Book II, where he appears again. There we find out that, before Alexios’ many
accomplishments against the usurpers, Isaac was already serving in the East,
entrusted with the doukation of Antioch,66 where he fought many battles and
took many trophies against the enemies.67 It appears, however, that Isaac
was actually not successful at all, but Anna’s argument was based on Issac
as a prominent elder brother whose younger brother followed his steps. Due
to the successes of both Manuel (their eldest brother) and Isaac in the East,
Alexios was chosen by Emperor Michael VII Doukas as strategos autokrator
64 Stanković 2006, p. 65-77.

65 Alexiad, p. 32; Alexias, I 1,3 (39.41), p. 12.
66 For military authority in the East, and in particular Antioch after the great military achieve-
ments of the Macedonian dynasty, see Krsmanović, 2008, p. 97-119.
67 Alexias, II 1,1 (9.11), p. 55.
against Roussel (Ourselios), a Norman mercenary who turned against the

emperor.68 The ascent of the Komnenian brothers continued until the reign
of Emperor Nikephoros III Botaneiates who also exceedingly appreciated
Alexios – ‘nothing less than Isaac’. In this simple statement, precedence was
given to Isaac again. And she continues in the same manner, ‘Both [brothers]
had a special place in his heart, as he looked on them with pleasure and
occasionally invited them to share his table’.69 According to Anna, that was
the only reason, which instigated the envy (φθόνος) of the two slaves, Borilos
and Germanos, against the Komnenian brothers. They plotted to blind them
and remove from the court and imperial favour. From the perspective of their
enemies, both were considered a threat. Their envy was directed toward
them equally (κατ’αὐτῶν φθόνον), and their aim was to get rid of both of them.
From the beginning of Book II, the idea of the siblings’ comradeship
comes to the fore. This is one of Anna’s most important arguments. We
follow the story of the Komnenian insurrection as a joint endeavour of both
brothers, where Isaac held slight precedence. Anna’s insistence on their
mutual agency is part of her political agenda, which is concentrated on the
idea of close family rule, and on the idea of a meritorious elder sibling. We
infer the conclusion that Alexios would never succeed had there not been
support of his brother Isaac. In addition, Alexios would also fail if there was
not a strong unity with his mother.
One of the first actions of the brothers against the machinations of Borilos
and Germanos was to get closer to Empress Maria. Again, Isaac led in this
matter: ‘Isaac indeed had already achieved success, for he had been chosen
by her [the empress] to marry her own cousin […] Now that his own affairs
prospered, he was much concerned for his brother’.70 After this interlude,
Anna delivers a comparison with legendary friends:
According to legend, Orestes and Pylades were friends and so much affec-
tion did they have for one another that in the crisis of battle each ignored
the enemies attacking himself and bore aid to his friend, shielding him
with his own breast from the volleys of arrows. One could see a like affec-
tion in the case of Isaac and Alexios, for each was willing to face dangers
for the other and they shared prises of valour and honours, and in general
the good fortune of each other, so great was their mutual attachment.71
68 Alexias, II 1,1 (11.13), p. 55.

69 Alexiad, p. 73; Alexias, II 1,2 (18), p. 55.
71 Alexiad, p. 74; Alexias, II 1,4 (42.50), p.56.
Isaac is introduced as a character without the help of whom the protagonist

could not have succeeded in his task. Of even bigger importance is Alexios’
appreciation of Isaac’s support, which is the next premise that builds on
the idea of trinitarian family rule, preceded by their mutual agency in the
rebellion. On the one side, we have the Komnenian brothers (οἱ Κομνηνοὶ),
that become the rebels (οἱ ἀποστάντες), bearing the burden of apostasia
together. They convene with their mother and act simultaneously: ‘Together
with their mother they turned over many ideas; many plans were thoroughly
examined on many occasions’.72 Their strategy was to come closer to Empress
Maria, who decided to adopt Alexios ‘on the advice of Isaac. […] And from
that day both visited the palace frequently’.73 Yet, there was a need once
more for their mother to interfere with the empress and she gave Isaac a
pretext for the meeting with Maria.74 Isaac was the one who spoke with
the empress. Even though Alexios was already an adopted son, we do not
see him as initiator of these events. We see either Isaac or the Komnenoi (οἱ
Κομνηνοὶ). Alexios follows and participates. The same situation will follow
in the course of rebellion, when the party of the Doukai joins them.
In the first stages of the rebellion, we see Isaac having slight precedence
over Alexios, due to his closeness with Empress Maria. Nevertheless, in
Bryennios’ history, we do not see Isaac as the initiator in these relations.75
Anna’s different perspective in her presentation of Isaac’s involvement and
agency in the rebellion is important. It turns the reader’s attention toward
the elder brother and his contribution to Alexios’ ascendance. A passage
overwhelmingly filled with Anna’s political insinuations is the one that tells
the story of the rebel war camp in Schitza, where the army finally chose
Alexios as their choice for the emperor:
Everyone was excited, anxiously awaiting the outcome and hoping to

see his own favourite proclaimed emperor. The majority prayed that
the throne would fall to Alexios, but Isaac’ partisans had not given up
hope; they did their best to win the support of all for their man. To all
appearances the division was irreconcilable, some desiring Isaac to
become ruler of the Empire, some Alexios. Among those present then
were Alexios’ closest relatives: the above-mentioned Caesar John Doukas,
a man who gave good counsel and in the most competent fashion put it

73 Alexiad, p.74; Alexias, II 1,4 (51.53), p. 56.
74 Alexias, II 2,2 (91.93), p. 58.
75 Bryennios, Histoire, p. 259.
into practice (I myself saw a little of him in the past); Michael and John,
his grandsons; and of course George Palaiologos, the husband of their
sister. All these were present, working hard to canvass all votes for their
own choice, pulling all strings, as they say, and cleverly making use of
every device to have Alexios proclaimed emperor. Thus they converted
everyone to their way of thinking and Isaac’s party gradually diminished,
for the Caesar John proved irresistible.76
Again, we do not see Alexios’ agency. It was Caesar John who interceded on
his behalf with all disposable means. Even though in the following lines Anna
states that the army was more inclined toward Alexios, she waves her narrative
around the Caesar’s persuasive powers. When she turns her attention to
Alexios’ attitude in this matter, there is an apparent ambiguity in her account:
Alexios himself treated Isaac with every respect, allowing him precedence
at all times, whether through brotherly love or rather (this too must be
said) because the whole army was rallying to his side and was eager to that
he should win, but entirely ignored the claims of Isaac. Alexios therefore
had the power and strength; he saw the issue unexpectedly turning in
his favour. Yet he encouraged his brother to seek the throne. It involved
no unpleasant risk, since the army to a man was determined to promote
himself to the highest office; he could afford to flatter Isaac and make a
pretence of yielding authority to him […] There was intense excitement,
every man praying that his own hopes would be fulfilled. Isaac stood up
and taking purple-dyed sandal tried to put it on his brother’s foot. Alexios
objected again and again. “Come”, said Isaac, “it is through you that God
wishes to recall our family to power.” And he reminded him of the prophecy
made to him once by a man who appeared somewhere near Karpianos.77
In these lines, the picture of a tricky Alexios emerges. Although he was highly
aware of his advantage, which was less an army spirit and much more Doukai
influence and power, Anna created the illusion of Alexios’ willingness to
76 Alexiad, p. 89-90; Alexias, II 7,1 (37.53), p.72-73.

77 Alexiad, p.90; ‘ὁ δέ γε Ἀλέξιος πολλῆς τιμῆς ἠξίου τὸν Ἰσαάκιον ἐν πᾶσιν αὐτὸν προτιμώμενος εἴτε
διὰ τὸ φίλτρον τῆς ἀδελφότητος ἢ καὶ μᾶλλον, ὃ καὶ λεκτέον, ἐπειδὴ ἡ μὲν στρατιὰ ξύμπασα πρὸς τοῦτον
ξυνέρρει καὶ τὴν αὐτοῦ βασιλείαν κατέσπευδε, πρὸς δὲ τὸν Ἰσαάκιον οὐδ’ ὁπωστιοῦν ἐπεστρέφετο,
ἔχων ἐκεῖθεν τὸ κράτος καὶ τὴν ἰσχὺν καὶ κατ’ ἐλπίδας αὐτῷ τὸ πρᾶγμα γινόμενον ὁρῶν παρεμυθεῖτο
τὸν ἀδελφὸν τῇ πρὸς τὴν βασιλείαν ὑποποιήσει, πρᾶγμα οὐδὲν ἐκ τούτων πάσχων ἀβούλητον, εἰ αὐτὸς
μὲν παρὰ τῆς στρατιᾶς ἁπάσης εἰς τοὺς ὑπερηφάνους ἄξονας ἀναρπάζοιτο, ὁ δὲ λόγοις ὑποσαίνοι τὸν
ἀδελφὸν καὶ πρόσχημα ποιεῖται τὴν τοῦ κράτους δῆθεν ἐκχώρησιν’.– Alexias, II 7,3 (67.76), p. 73-74.
leave the throne to his elder brother. Anna’s statement that he saw the tide
turning to his favour, but nevertheless pushed Isaac to seek the throne,
is evasive, as is the whole cryptic chapter. The author blatantly referred
to Alexios’ words as flattery (ὁ δὲ λόγοις ὑποσαίνοι), his action towards his
brother as pretence (πρόσχημα). This narrative unit has a powerful rhetoric
of sibling conflict, where we see the younger sibling ascending the throne
instead of the elder one. Alexios’ offer to withdraw before his elder brother
is presented as false and insincere. Nevertheless, the climax of the unit is
the moment in which Isaac offers red buskins to his younger brother, and
therefore symbolically performs the translation of the imperial ordinance
to his younger brother. In addition, as a crucial premise, Isaac advanced the
idea of divine providence inspired by the prophecy that was also retold by
Alexios. He is again the actor, even the focalizer, from whose perspective the
events are told. Isaac was present in the aforementioned event, but he did
not hear the oracle. It was Alexios who was supposed to reveal this augury
which, quite indicative, was in his favour:
When Alexios returned, Isaac made many inquiries about the vision and
begged him to tell his secret. He persisted in his questions and although
Alexios at f irst seemed reluctant, he afterwards betrayed the secret
prophecy to him. In speaking of it openly to his brother he explained
the thing as an hallucination and said it was humbug, but in his own
heart, when he recollected the priestly vision, he likened the old man to
the Theologian, the son of Thunder.78
Thus, the paramount and divine opinion was revealed through Alexios’
words. This prophecy was the main element that instigated Isaac to promote
his brother as the chosen emperor: ‘Now when Isaac saw the prophecy being
fulfilled (words translated into action) he followed a more energetic course
and forcibly put on the purple sandal, especially when he recognised the
burning zeal of the whole army for Alexios. At that signal the Doukas family
led the acclamations’.79
Alexios consciously tried to dodge the true meaning of the oracle in front
of his brother, presenting it as deception (πλάσμα), although he already knew
that he was the chosen one. The whole story about his alleged wishes to
hand over precedence to his brother is actually a plasma of its kind.
78 Alexiad, p. 91; Alexias, II 7,6 (96.8), p. 74-75.

This chapter is replete with tension between the two brothers which
served quite suitably for Anna’s personal argument – about the elder sibling
who was (sincerely or not) at one moment considered as an option for the
imperial throne. Also, Isaac was actually the one put in the role to acclaim
Alexios first. Without the elder brother’s approval and blessing, the whole
chapter would lose its final point. Alexios was chosen due to the influence
and power of the Doukai, and due to his brother’s blessing.
Book III brings the resolution of the rebellion. As already stressed,
even after the abdication of Nikephoros III Botaneiates, the situation was
unresolved, since the smouldering animosity between the two kin-related
families, Komnenoi and Doukai, flared up again around the question of
Eirene Doukaina. In the ideologically most important book, we see three
parties – that of Caesar John, of Anna Dalassene and of Maria of Alania.
In her literary shaping of Alexios’ seisure of the imperial throne, Anna had
recourse to Psellos’ Chronographia, deploying almost verbatim his text on
Isaac Komnenos’s first actions upon ascending the imperial throne:
Once he had taken over the leadership of the Romans, being always the
man of action, he at once became immersed in matters of state. He became,
as one might say, the center of supreme power. At sunrise he entered the
palace, and before shaking off the dust of battle and resting his body,
he applied himself immediately and totally to the consideration of the
military position. In everything he had in his brother Isaac a partner (Isaac
he respected like a father) and he shared his plans with his mother. They
supported him in the administration of the Empire.80
Again, Anna’s argument about the Komnenoi is focused only on Alexios,

Isaac and Dalassene. His acquisition of the imperial might is described in
commendable light, and the sequencing of the arguments shows that the
most praiseworthy aspect of his rule was division of administration among
the three of them, just as Psellos’ opening passage on Isaac Komnenos’ reign
announced the vigour and efficiency of his hero, stressing his propensity
towards his counsellors, that is Psellos, as the most important aspect of
his effective rule. Emperor Isaac’s rule was commendable only when he
acted according to his advisor’s counsels. That is, when he acceded to his
counsellor’s partaking in his rule.81 The presentation of Alexios’ acquisition of

81 As Kaldellis warned ‘it is easy to question the historicity of this narrative’, about the embassy
to Isaac Komnenos that was conducted by Michael Psellos. It was suited to vindicate ‘Psellos’
the imperial sceptre dwells on the same argumentation – the most laudable
aspect of his rule was the division of the imperial power among the three of
them: Alexios, Dalassene and Isaac. The emperor’s advisers were, according
to the same argument, actually partakers in Alexios’ rule.
Isaac Komnenos, Alexios’ brother, remained an important character
of the convoluted plot of Book III, reappearing unexpectedly after Anna’s
description of the physical appearance of the ruling couple, Eirene and
Alexios:
As for my uncle (ὁ μέντοι θεῖος ἐμὸς Ἰσαάκιος), he was about the same
height as his brother and indeed was not very different from him in other
respects, but he was rather pale and his beard was not particularly thick;
round the jaws it was thinner than of Alexios. Both brothers indulged
often in hunting, where there was no great pressure of work, but they
found war more exhilarating than the chase. On the battlefield no one
surpassed Isaac even when he commanded regiments in person: the
moment he saw the enemy’s line, headless of all else he hurled himself
into their midst like a thunderbolt and quickly threw their ranks into
confusion – a habit that led on more than one occasion to his capture
in battle against the Agarens in Asia. This impetuosity was Isaac’s [my
uncle’s] undoing – the one fault for which he can be censured in war.82
The particle μέντοι suggests sequence linking, and brings back Isaac from
the background. It reinforces the value of this narrative unit, its continuity
and relation with the description of the imperial personages. It is also a
particle that denotes the return to the story of Isaac and his partaking
in the government of the empire. Regarding the textual structure, this
passage pertains to the chapter on the descriptions of Alexios and Eirene,
and presents its closing lines. The next chapter opens with the story of
abilities as an orator’. The main argument here was actually Psellos’ ability to persuade the rebel
and later to become emperor’s ‘philosophical adviser’ – For the whole analysis about Psellos’
presentation of Isaac Komnenos see Kaldellis, 1999a, p. 167-178.
82 Alexiad, p. 111; ‘ὁ μέντοι θεῖος ἐμὸς Ἰσαάκιος τὴν μὲν ἡλικίαν ἐῴκει τἀδελφῷ οὐδὲ κατὰ τὰ ἄλλα
πολὺ ἀπεῴκει. ὕπωχρος μὲν οὖν ἦν αὐτὸς τὴν ὄψιν καὶ τὴν ὑπήνην οὐ πάνυ δασύς, ἀλλὰ καὶ περὶ
τὰς γνάθους ψιλοτέραν εἶχε τῆς τἀδελφοῦ. ἄμφω δὲ τἀδελφὼ κυνηγεσίοις μὲν πολλάκις ἀπένευον,
ὁπηνίκα οὐ πολλὴ τίς αὐτοῖς ἐπέρ – (5) ρει πραγμάτων φροντίς, πολεμικοῖς δὲ μᾶλλον ἢ κυνηγετικοῖς
ἔχαιρονπράγμασιν. ἐν δὲ ταῖς ἐμβολαῖς τῶν πολέμων, οὐδ’ ὁπηνίκα τῶν ταγμάτων αὐτὸς κατῆρχε,
προέτρεχέ τις αὐτοῦ, ἀλλ’ ἅμα τὲ τὴν παράταξινἑωράκει τῶν πολεμίων ἐκεῖνος καὶ πάντων καταφρονήσας
τῶν ἄλλων ἐς μέσους ἐνέπιπτε καθάπέρ τις κεραυνὸς ὀξέως διακόπτων τὰς φάλαγγας·κἀκ τούτου ἑάλω
καὶ ἅπαξ καὶ δὶς κατὰ τὴν Ἀσίαν συμμίξας Ἀγαρηνοῖς.καὶ τοῦτο μόνον οὐμὸς θεῖος εἶχε ψόγου ἄξιον ἐν
τοῖς πολέμοις, ὅτι πρὸς συμβολὰς ἀκατάσχετος ἦν’ – Alexias, III 3,5 (46.58), p. 95.
Alexios’ kainotomia, his innovations in the government, of which the most

prominent was the creation of a new title and rank for his elder brother
Isaac.83 Anna stressed that the title sebastokrator was coined as a special
honour for her uncle which raised him above the Caesar, ‘as if he were the
second emperor’ (οἱονεὶ δεύτερον βασιλέα).84 In this passage Anna actually
showed how Alexios surpassed the problematic power relations and imperial
claims within his own oikos by ranking Isaac as the second emperor, and
Nikephoros Melisenos as third by his rank, granting him the title of Caesar.
Once more Anna asserted the idea of Isaac as the second emperor, in Book
V, when he convoked the Synod for the acquisition of church properties:
This became the subject of a very serious accusation against the emperors
(for I do not hestitate to call Isaac emperor, although he did not wear
purple) not only on that occasion, but even later, right down to our own
time’.85
Anna’s emphatic statement on Isaac’s basileia starts with the use of the
plural form of the noun basileus, referring to Alexios and Isaac as τοῖς
βασιλεῦσιν. In parenthesis she gives a short explanation for this peculiar
naming by addressing him as aporphyron basilea, the emperor without a
purple robe. Her metanarrative comment is delivered in the form ‘I’ – ‘for I
do not hestitate’ – stressing precisely the author’ own judgement.
For Anna Komnene, her uncle Isaac had personal political importance.
He was the elder brother who, according to her testimony, gave way to his
younger brother. She had put a lot of interest in describing this ‘translation
of the empire’ from Isaac to Alexios. Her argumentation was built firstly on
the premise of their mutual love, friendship and support that prevailed in the
case of Isaac who acted in favour of his younger brother. The next premise
is that Alexios did not take the throne all by himself – without his brother’s
help and his decision, and the influence of the Doukai, he would have never
succeeded in that endeavour. Consequently, the acquisition of the imperial
throne was not for the sake of one person solely, but for the sake of the two
oikoi, Komenoi and the Doukai. Alexios cherished his brother’s support
and raised him above all other imperial ranks. Anna especially insisted
83 Alexias, III 4,1 (59.66), p. 95.

84 Alexias, III 4,1 (64), p. 95.
85 ‘τοῦτο ὕλη μεγίστης κατηγορίας τοῖς βασιλεῦσιν ἐγένετο (oὐκ ὀκνῶ γὰρ καὶ τὸν Ἰσαάκιον
ἀπόρφυρον βασιλέα κατονομάζειν) οὐ τότε μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ μέχρι καιροῦ διαρκέσασα’ – Alexias, V
2,4 (15), p. 144.
on Isaac’s participation in Alexios’ rule. It was a precedent that did not

happen again in the next generation of the Komnenoi. The next generation,
all purple-born children, did not produce another aporphyron basilea, as
was the case with Isaac. Alexios’ gratitude and respect for his elder brother
is a powerful political argument in the Alexiad. Anna Komnene’s source of
grudge was her younger brother’s disrespect and disregard of her own right
and claim. Alexios’ kainotomia was an innovation in the government and it
was conducted firstly with regard to his elder sibling and for the resolution
of his position, which was for Anna herself a strong political claim.
Anna’s advances her connection with Isaac in her reflections of him as
‘her uncle’. Neither Adrian nor Nikephoros Komnenos were referred to as ‘her
uncles’. Anna was careful and precise whom to designate as the member of
her closest συγγένεια. In this respect, Isaac is the only member of her family
granted with similar physical qualities as Anna Komnene. Alexios was the
same model for synkrisis of both Isaac and Anna.
She compared her uncle and father: ‘He was the most noble in his words
and deeds, and in the greatest part resembled my father (καὶ τὰ πλεῖστα τοὐμῷ
πατρὶ ἐμφερής)’, using the same construction that she used for herself, ‘and the
female child was born that completely resembled her father (τίκτεται τούτοις
παιδίον θῆλυ ἐμφερής […] κατὰ πάντα τῷ πατρὶ)’.86 This almost exclusive
comparison with the emperor, which Anna preserved solely for herself, was
provided only for Isaac and not for any other of Alexios’ children. Neverthe-
less, the slight difference between these two comparisons is apparent in
the use of the words pleistos and pantos. While Isaac ‘largely’, ‘in the most
part’ resembled her father, she resembled him ‘in the whole’, ‘in everything’.
Through this specific word ploy, Anna reserved the right for imperial legacy
for herself, being the only purple-born child that resembled the emperor
in everything. By connecting with Isaac through this comparative model,
she claimed for herself the righteous position of the elder sibling.
The abstruse story of Adrian Komnenos
One of the highly dubious silences of Anna Komnene is about Adrian

Komnenos, younger brother of Emperor Alexios. As already noted, Anna’s
omissions in the Alexiad are part of Anna’s discursive style and they belong
to the category of revisionist exclusions. As Peter Frankopan observed in his
paper on Komnenian kinship, Adrian Komnenos had been enigmatically
86 Alexias, VI 8.1 (85.86), p. 184

side-lined in the story of Alexios’ life.87 Yet, I would not fully agree with
his conclusion that this fact comes solely from the possible breach in his
relationship with Alexios. Nor that this happened because ‘Alexios chose
to ignore them, for one reason or another’.88 Because, the main source on
Adrian is Anna and not Alexios. Therefore, we should try to find the answer
why Anna’ excluded her uncle from the story.
The first mention of Adrian is the passage on the institution of family
members into the highest strata of imperial hierarchy. This passage is,
nevertheless, dubious. At a first glance, it appears that Anna wanted to
present how and to whom the titles were assigned.
Alexios had promised Nikephoros Melissenos (his brother-in-law) the title

of Caesar. Isaac, the eldest of his brothers, therefore, had to be honoured
with some higher dignity, and as there was no such rank between that of
emperor and Caesar, a new name was invented, a compound of sebastos
and autocrator. Isaac was created sebastocrator, a kind of second emperor
and senior to the Caesar, who received the acclamation on the third place.
In addition, Alexios decreed that both sebastocrator and the Caesar
should wear crowns at public festivals […] At the same time Taronites,
who had married the emperor’s sister Maria, was also honoured with
the titles of protosebastos and protovestiarius, and not long afterwards
he was promoted to the rank of panhypersebastos with the right to sit
with the Caesar. Alexios’ brother Adrian, too, was granted the title of
Most Illustrious Protosebastos and Nikephoros, his youngest brother,
who had been made Great Drungarius of the Fleet, was also raised to
the rank of sebastos.89
My main concern in this passage is the placement of Adrian Komnenos. In

this particular case, he comes after Isaac Komnenos and Alexios’ brothers-
in-law. Although some might observe that at that particular moment Adrian
did not hold a higher title,90 I would nevertheless argue his placement
87 Frankopan, 2007, p. 11; For the picture of Adrian Komnenos in the Alexiad see Frankopan,
2007, p. 19-25.
88 Frankopan, 2007, p. 11.
89 Alexias, III 4, 1-2 (59.82), p. 95-96, Alexiad, p. 111-112.
90 According to the Alexiad, which is also a generally accepted information, Adrian was granted
the rank of great domestic after the death of Pakourianos, around 1087.; Zonaras, on the other
hand, is not precise about the timing. He mentions that Adrian was granted the position of great
domestic in the passage where he summarises all titles and honours that were granted by the
emperor to his family members.
after Taronites. It is interesting that Anna did not in any way allude to
Adrian’s future position as a great domestic, a commander-in-chief of the
Byzantine army and the third most important person in the empire. She
did not refrain from explaining Nikephoros’ role as the great drungarios
of the fleet, although we do not come across this personage again in the
Alexiad. From this passage it becomes intelligible that Anna’s argument
was focused on the title of the elder brother and the emperor’s in-laws.
Moreover, only from this, we might conclude that the in-laws were more
appreciated than the other emperor’s brothers. In addition, immense
value was actually put on the title of Caesar, the second rank below the
emperor, who bore the crown together with sebastocrator. Thus, the rank
of Caesar comes to the fore as the most illustrious position in the empire
after Alexios and Isaac. It is highly indicative that the author herself was
kaisarissa, and her husband the most renowned Caesar of the second
generation and Emperor John’s brother-in-law. Her interest lied in the title
and rank of Caesar which her husband bore and, hitherto, Anna herself
together with him.
Regarding the place of Adrian Komnenos in the imperial hierarchy, the
list of senators from the Synod of Blacherne, which took place at the end of
1094, offers crucial proof for his unquestionable importance – he was listed
first.91 The judges were Alexios and Isaac Komnenos and patriarchs of Con-
stantinople and Jerusalem.92 After Adrian, protosebastos, the most prominent
of the sebastoi were Michael and John Doukas and George Palaiologos. There
is no mention of Caesar Melissenos, or of Michael Taronites. The case of
Taronites can be explained as his fall from grace due to his participation in
Diogene’s conspiracy. Therefore, we do not see him on the list of the most
illustrious senators. And even though this list from the Synod comes from
an event that took place more than a decade after Alexios’ ascendance, still
Adrian emerges as one of the most problematic characters. This document
stresses his importance in the affairs of the empire, whereas the Alexiad
does not testify that at all.
Adrian is mentioned several times as the one who participates in Alexios’
war operations. In the battle against the Pechenegs, Adrian was in command
of the Latins, and Melissenos was in charge of the left wing. They were
defeated. It is interesting how Anna deployed artful literary style to show
Adrian’s failure:
91 Gautier, Le Synode des Blachernes, p. 217.

92 Gautier, Le Synode des Blachernes, p. 220.
Adrian, the emperor’s brother and temporary commander of the Latins,

seeing that it was impossible to stem the Scythian onslaught, rode at full
gallop and forced his way right to the wagons. After a gallant struggle
he returned with only seven survivors; all the others had either been
slain or were captured.93
Nevertheless, Anna states further that,
The battle was still evenly balanced, with both armies fighting bravely,
when some Scythian officers appeared in the distance with 36,000 men.
At last the Romans gave ground […]’ but ‘the emperor, however, still
stood with sword in hand beyond his own front line.94
The paradox that is used clearly separates Adrian’s failure from Alexios’
success in this combat. Adrian’s unsuccessful return happened before the
huge enemy force appeared. Anna’s statement that he returned with only
few men directly contradicts the following statement that the battle was
‘evenly balanced’. The focus is then turned to Alexios’ own bravery and his
clash with the enemy after the appearance of the Pecheneg multitude. Yet,
even Alexios’ daring was not a commendable behaviour for an emperor, for
which he was admonished by Michael Doukas. We are not informed about
Melissenos’ attitude in this battle at all.
The intriguing partnership between Adrian and Melissenos, two impor-
tant figures rarely mentioned in the Alexiad, is recounted in the story of
John Komnenos’ conspiracy. They are both presented as partners in failure
to disparage Isaac’s son John before the emperor. The characterisation of
these figures is given through their actions, which falls into the category
of chreia praktike.95 It indicates a character through his or her actions. In
the case of the conspiracy against John, and Adrian’s alleged slander, we
are faced with a crucial discursive marker of an invective. This presents an
interesting overture about Adrian’s positioning in the most problematic
internal conflict of Alexios’ rule.
Finally, Adrian was mentioned in the story of Nikephoros Diogenes’
conspiracy, where he again failed in his task: ‘he failed completely to induce
Diogenes to reveal even one of his plans’.96 I will not repeat Frankopan’s
93 Alexiad, p. 224.
94 Alexiad, p. 225.
95 De Temmerman, 2010, p. 34.
96 Alexiad, p. 283; Alexias, IX 7,4 (95.97), p. 273.
conclusions that Adrian was actually involved in the conspiracy.97 I agree

with his assumptions that Anna had made a strong impression on her
audience about her uncle’s collaboration with Alexios’ adversaries. But
what I find especially interesting in this whole story, and rather tempting,
is the background of Adrian’s closeness with Diogenes, that is, their kin-
ship. Although I concur with Frankopan’s observations, I would draw a
line between Alexios’ relationship with his brother and Anna Komnene’s
relationship with her uncle. As I have already showed in my analysis, Anna’s
argumentation did not at all dwell on the same ideological premises as her
father’s.
The important question is why would Anna Komnene erase her uncle from
her father’s history. Why did she present him in an incriminating manner?
Why are the readers of the Alexiad deprived of the picture of a great domestic,
the most illustrious protosebastos? In addition to these questions, I would
turn to another important source – why was Adrian Komnenos removed
from commemorations in the typikon of Eirene Doukaina’s Monastery
of the Virgin Kecharitomene, while mentioned among the deceased in
the typikon of the Monastery of Christ Pantokrator? Some scholars have
concluded hitherto that he died after 1118.98 Nevertheless, a necrology nota
was found which addressed the deceased brother of the emperor, around
1105.99 According to this, he was intentionally omitted from Eirene’s typikon
which was revised in 1118. What lies behind this political conundrum?
The only logical explanation which perfectly corresponds to the frame of
this political puzzle is Adrian’s kinship. He was married to Zoe, the daughter
of Emperor Constantine X Doukas (1059-1067) and Eudokia Makremvolitissa.
The political value of this relationship is immense. It clearly shows that
the power relations from the end of the 11th and the beginning of the 12th
century, were very complex. Alexios had to impose himself and his family
branch among the powerful aristocratic houses which simultaneously
had the same or even much bigger rights100 to the imperial throne than
any other. Having a family member that was directly related to the former
97 For detailed analysis see Frankopan, 2007, p. 21-27.

98 Skoulatos, 1980, p. 7.
99 Skoulatos, 1980, p. 7, no.22.
100 It is always problematic to speak about one’s ‘right’ to the imperial throne, but Komnenian
system changed basic conception of the imperial officia, which was described as Komnenian
inheritance (kleronomia). However, the imperial right in the time slightly preceding Alexios’
reign, was also being subjected to Constantine X Doukas’ idea that a throne should be preserved
for his descendants. The story is told by all contemporary historians – Attaleiates, Psellos,
Skylitzes Continuatus.
emperor, Constantine X Doukas, who also had a successor to the throne

from his direct line, was not a small issue and it could not be disregarded.
Adrian’s wife Zoe was of more illustrious descent than Alexios’ wife
Eirene. According to their connection with the Doukai only, Adrian was
related directly to the imperial branch. As I have already observed, Anna
Komnene was particularly liable to relate herself to the imperial branch of
the Doukai, by her relationship with porphyrogennetos Konstantine Doukas
and his mother Maria of Alania. It is rather peculiar that she omits to relate
her uncle Adrian with the house of the Doukai. That fact was never part of
her argumentation. Also, George Palaiologos is presented as a prominent
member of the Doukai oikos, as their in-law. Adrian, as the in-law of the
two late emperors, Constantine X Doukas and Michael VII Doukas, is not
included among the prominent members of the Doukai oikos. And that is
the only clue we have so far. But it is not to be disregarded.
If we inspect closely Nikephoros Diogenes’ accomplices, we can conclude
that the bounding element was their imperial legitimacy – they were born in
purple – and they were connected with the imperial branch of the Doukai.
Those people posed a serious threat to Alexios’ attempt to establish his
own bloodline on the throne. Anna’s own positioning within this complex
network is clear – she was the member of Caesar John’s branch, the successor
of Eirene Doukaina’s legacy. Only in this sense, the omission of Adrian’s from
Eirene’s typikon becomes intelligible. He was far too close to the imperial
legacy of the Doukai to be present in Eirene’s and Anna’s history.
Conspiracy of John Komnenos
Among the numerous conspiracies against Alexios, the most serious appear
to be those plotted by sebastocrator Isaac’s elder son John, and by Nikephoros
Diogenes. The plot by John Komnenos is peculiar because it directly aimed
against the close relationship between two brothers, Alexios and Isaac.
The idea of their closeness is a strong argument in Anna’s political agenda,
and an event that threatened to dissolve that relationship is particularly
significant.101
I will stress a few details of this event, which can help us in understanding
what lies behind Anna’s literary style. Firstly, Anna is openly apologetic
towards the ‘mutineer’ John. Her affinity toward Isaac’s elder son is notice-
able through his appearance in the Alexiad. Among all the offspring of
Alexios’ brothers, only those of Isaac are mentioned. A first notice about
101 cf. Varzos, p. 134-141; Frankopan, 2007, p. 15-18; Stanković, 2016, no.7.
John Komnenos comes in Book III. In Alexios’ letter to Emperor Henry

IV, where he asked for alliance, the young son of the sebastocrator was
mentioned in the following manner: ‘My most beloved nephew (τὸν φίλτατόν
μοι ἀνεψιόν), a son of the most illustrious sebastocrator and beloved brother
of my Majesty’.102 He was very young at that time, but ornated with exquisite
physique (ἐν τουτοις πολὺ ἔχει τὸ περιούσιον). After this comes the most
important sentence in which Alexios affirms his nephew as a son, since
the empress still had not delivered a male scion to his majesty: ‘Since God
has not yet granted me a child, I consider my beloved nephew as my own
son’(γνησίου παιδὸς ὁ φίλτατος οὗτος ἐπέχει ἀδελφιδοῦς).103
Thus, John was introduced to the readers as a person highly favoured by
Alexios. This situation corresponds with the scholarly conclusions that this
conspiracy was most probably provoked by Alexios’ crowning of his own
son John as his co-emperor and successor in 1092.104 Yet, Anna avoids any
explanation of reasons for the conspirator’s discontent. She stresses that all
accusations were just a calumny. This way, the readers are deprived of the
notion that there was any displeasure against Alexios’ son John Komnenos,
and his designation as the emperor’s heir. Here we come to the question
what was actually told in this story.105
The story unfolds after one of the greatest military victories – Alexios’
triumph against the Pechenegs in the battle near Lebounion.106 However, the
great success was obscured by a serious plot that jeopardised the closeness
between Alexios and Isaac. This provides a clue. Focus is put on the relation-
ship between the two Komnenian brothers. Somehow Isaac Komnenos
emerged as a protagonist in this story, and we see him as the one who feels
attacked, who speaks and defends himself.
The tidings about the plot came from a letter by the archbishop of Ochrid,
where it was explicitly mentioned it was the case of apostasia.107 The deploy-
ment of the word apostasia indicated the seriousness of the situation. It
served to convey a message about John’s attempt to usurp the throne.108
102 Alexias, III 10,6 (11.13), p. 113.

103 Alexias, III 10,6 (18.19), p. 114.
104 Frankopan, 2007, p. 17.
105 as Frankopan pointed out Anna Komnene is the only one that mentiones this conspiracy.
Frankopan, 2007, p. 15.
106 Alexias, VIII 8,1-4, p. 253-255.
107 Alexias, VIII 7,3 (16.18), p. 252: ‘περὶ τοῦ δουκὸς Δυρραχίου Ἰωάννου τοῦ υἱοῦ τοῦ σεβαστοκράτορος
διαβεβαιούμενα ἀποστασίαν ἐκεῖνον ὠδίνειν’.
108 Frankopan suggests that it is rather tempting to think about this plot in these terms, but
expresses his doubts about the seriousness of this undertaking. – Frankopan, 2007, p. 16-17. In
this sense the ‘real ‘ and actual seriousness of the whole attempt against Alexios is unimportant.
Alexios, upon receiving the letter in Philipopolis, fell into despondency the
whole night (ἀθυμῶν διὰ πάσης νυκτὸς) and contemplated whether to take
the matter into his own hands or to withhold, fearing Isaac’s reaction. He
decided to react in accordance with his nephew’s youth (ἐπεὶ μειράκιον ἦν),
and consequently, his recklessness (τὰς ὁρμὰς ἀκαθέκτους), in order for both
of them, Alexios and Isaac, to avoid great pain (λύπης ἀφορήτου).109
Alexios wanted to resolve this case without involving Isaac, who was in
Constantinople at that moment. Nevertheless, the rumours rapidly reached
the sebastocrator, wherefore he immediately hurried to reach Philipopolis.
The brothers embraced each other, which designated the favourable mood
of the emperor. In the next passage, the narrative unit focuses on Isaac’s
emotions. Due to the unjust accusations against his son he was filled with
anger (θυμοῦ πλησθεὶς), which is the actuating motive of the whole passage.
Isaac was, for the first time, presented as uncontrollable and exasperated,
blaming those that took action against his son. Firstly, he turned to the
emperor who asked him how he was. Isaac replied, ‘Bad, because of you’.
(κακῶς ἐξ αἰτίας σῆς)110 Anna explained that Isaac was sometimes not able
to control his anger, but adds that his resentment was provoked by the
actions of the other brother, ‘I am not so much hurt by Your Majesty as by
the calumnies of him (pointing at Adrian)’.111
Alexios, Isaac, Adrian, Nikephoros Melissenos and other relatives were
present at the family meeting (καί τινων τῶν ἐξ αἵματος καὶ ἀγχιστείας
προσηκόντων). Among them, Adrian and Melissenos were against young
John, ‘When Isaac saw Melissenos and his own brother Adrian attacking his
son in a sly, affected way, he was once again unable to restrain his bubbling
wrath. Fixing his baleful gaze on Adrian, he threatened to tear out his
beard: he would teach him not to try by brazen lies to deprive the emperor
of such kinsmen’.112
When young John finally appeared, he was acquitted of all charges: ‘In
consideration of your father and my brother, I cannot bring myself to listen
to these rumours. Forget your cares and go on living as you have done in
For us, the crucial element for investigation of this narrative unite is Anna’s tendency to present
it as an attempt for usurping the throne.
109 Alexias, VIII 7,3 (18,23), p. 252.
110 Alexias, VIII 8,3 (84.85), p. 254.
111 Alexias, VIII 8,3 (87.89), p. 254.
112 Alexiad, p. 264; Alexias, VIII 8,3 (94.4) p. 254: ‘ὡς δὲ τὸν Μελισσενὸν καὶ τὸν ἴδιον ἀδελφὸν
Ἀδριανὸν κατατρέχοντας ἐσχιματισμένως τοῦ ἰδίου υἱοῦ ἑώρα, αὖθις τὸν θυμὸν παφλάζοντα μὴ δυνηθεὶς
κατασχεῖν δριμὺ πρὸς τὸν Ἀδριανὸν ἀτενίσας ψιλῶσαι τὸν αὐτοῦ πώγωνα ἠπειλήσατο καὶ διδάξαι μὴ
προφανῶς ψεθδόμενον τοιούτων συγγενῶν ἀποστερῆσαι τὸν βασιλέα ἐπιχειρεῖν’.
past,’113 and he was dispatched back to Dyrrachium. The whole affair was
disclosed to their mother (τῇ μητρὶ ἀνακοινωσόμενος).114
The focus of this narrative unit is put on Isaac Komnenos and his relation-
ship with Alexios. Although the affair broke out because of his son John,
Isaac appeared as the protagonist. Anna’s prime concern in this story was
the conflict between the siblings, and open censure of Adrian’s slander.
Thus, Adrian appeared as the antagonist in this whole matter, as a sibling
that provoked the entire conflict, and not young John whose disposition
towards Alexios was suspicious. Adrian was not given any agency. He was
rather the reason (αἰτία) for the sibling conflict. Anna did not deliver any
form of chreia to form Adrian’s character and enable him to defend himself
from the accusations. The conclusion that John was restored to his previous
position speaks for his innocence and Adrian’s intention to break the bond
between the two elder brothers.
Anna’s literary manoeuvring shows how she turned the focus from the
main conspirator to another character, namely Adrian Komenos. This plot
was a serious matter for Alexios, since it revealed how his idea to establish
a dynasty that would derive solely from his branch of the family was feeble.
Nevertheless, this complex political issue is not so obvious. Yet, it is the most
probable reason behind Anna’s decision to mention this story, although it
might disparage Isaac’s branch. For Anna’s own claim, it was quite suitable
that Alexios’ legacy was not secured and not unanimously acknowledged
by all members of the ruling elite, and in this particular case, of his clos-
est family members. Another important premise is that she succeeded to
discredit Adrian Komnenos, leaving him aside as a plotter and character
who will again emerge in another and even more serious conspiracy. The
construction of psogos against Adrian reached its climax in this chapter
and its final resolution in the dubious positioning of Adrian in Diogenes’
conspiracy.
As a concluding remark, I will address another curious thing. Namely,
this whole episode might have been an echo of very similar event that
occurred almost two decades after – the conspiracy of Anna Komnene
against her younger brother John. Firstly, Anna is the only source about
this conspiracy. Secondly, among so many conspiracies against Alexios, this
one in particular is presented in such an emotional and vivid way, as if it
had happened before the reader’s eyes. Thirdly, the whole drama happened
between the two siblings. The focus of the narrative unit is put on Isaac,

114 Alexias, VIII 8,4 (15.16), p. 255.
not on his son. The elder sibling was fighting against the accusations of the
third and younger brother, who tried to divide the family.
It is not difficult to find a parallel with Anna’s own story where she, as
an elder sibling, was confronted by John and her younger brother Isaac, who
supported him against his sister.115 Those might be Anna’s reflections of
her own disposition towards her younger brother and emperor when she
stressed that the whole calumny was instigated by other people’s malice.
Not any other conspiracy was filled with such pathos, which aimed, as a
rhetorical tool, to persuade the audience and raise their emotions towards
the author’s argument.
A thrice-beloved son
And revenge is pleasant; for it is painful to be unsuccessful, it is pleasant to

succeed. Now, those who are resentful are pained beyond measure when they
fail to secure revenge, while the hope of it delights them.
− Aristotle, Rhetoric, 1.11.13
Timeframe of the Alexiad
It seems that the most tempting and enticing task in reading the Alexiad is
the reconstruction of missing stories. What is peculiar about the Alexiad
is that we are not dealing simply with one story, but with a whole missing
narrative, to which I will refer to as ‘the absent narrative’. This composite
diegesis of which we are deprived is structured on the basis of Anna Kom-
nene’s political agenda. The author chose whom to include, and whom to
exclude from her life story. The fact that she chose to leave out her brother
from their father’s history is by all means a powerful vengeance. John was
Alexios’ chosen successor, crowned and designated to succeed his father
on the throne. That particular event happened a decade after Alexios’
ascendance.116 Thus, the state of having an existent successor lasted for
almost two decades, from 1092 to 1118. 117 One would expect to see him
present as his father’s closest trustee and comrade. John II Komnenos’ sons
115 Zonaras mentiones that Andronikos was against John, while ‘younger’ brother was on his
side – Zonaras XVIII 24, 18-25, p. 748.
116 DeWald, 1944, p. 82.
117 A rare gold nomisma from Alexios’ reign is preserved with the imperial couple – Alexios
and Eirene – on the obverse, and young, beardless John on the reverse – De Wald, 1944, p. 84.
accompanied their father on his campaigns. Michael Italikos, in his oration

for the Manuel I Komenos, composed slightly after his acquisition of the
imperial power (1143), under the topic of his military formation stresses
that his military and ruling abilities were shaped according to the model of
his father (στρατηγικὴν δὲ καὶ βασιλικὴν ἐπιστήμην ὑπὸ τῷ πατρί καὶ βασιλεῖ
μελετᾷ), with whom he had learnt to be the leader in the war, and the ruler,
because ‘it is natural that the eagles teach their eaglets to fly’.118
In the story of Alexios’ deeds, his first male scion that had become even
more prominent in war than his father should have been visible at least. Yet,
this is not the case in the Alexiad. Anna conducted an apparent damnatio
memoriae, which is the most powerful art of a writer, and especially of a
historian who claims to deliver ‘bare truth’. In rhetorical vocabulary, this
device is called paralipsis, a ‘figure of deliberate omission’, and functions
by ‘drawing attention to what has been omitted’. Anna has reached her
rhetorical goal – our attention is indeed focused on the character who has
been left out.
For the better understanding of this phenomenon, and John’s missing
place in the Alexiad it is necessary to understand the time when the Alexiad
was composed. Anna’s greatest intellectual, and as well, social and political,
activity comes after the death of Alexios. She was present in the intellectual
life of the Komnenian Constantinople. She was certainly not in any kind
of solitary confinement, even though she tries to assure her audience that
she was. The Alexiad itself testifies that Anna had to be perfectly free to
collect and gather the material she needed. Dynamic and intense social links
were also necessary for that kind of endeavour. Being able to participate in
the cultural life of Constantinople of John II’s epoch, Anna witnessed the
ideological transformation of the capital with the emergence of the crucial
political endowment of the Komnenian dynasty – the Monastery of Christ
Pantokrator.119 The construction and completion of John II Komnenos’
endowment in 1136 was a crucial political event which most probably trig-
gered Anna’s decision to immerse in writing a history. This timeframe is a
crucial aspect of understanding the Alexiad’s message. However, we have
to go little bit back in order to understand the full scope of the historical
context.
In a very recent paper on the political ideology of John II Komnenos’
reign, Paul Magdalino has investigated the ideology and the context of John
118 Michael Italikos, Discours a Manuel Comnène, p. 282-283.

119 For its ideological importance see Stanković, 2006, p. 280-281; Stanković, 2011a, p.59-60,
68-69; Stanković, 2015 passim.
II’s triumph of 1133.120 It was the first triumph solemnly celebrated in the
capital after more than hundred years. Moreover, it was the triumph that
especially “pronounced a religious character” and was very similar to the
triumphs of John Tzimiskes of 971, and Basil II of 1019.121 The question that
Magdalino posed, and which, of course, presents one of the key issues of his
investigation is why there was a need in that particular moment to perform
such an outstanding spectacle on the streets of Constantinople. There were,
as Magdalino suggests, at least two earlier military triumphs of John II
Komnenos that could have been a cause for impressive the celebration.122
However, it seems that John II had very special concerns regarding the
very recent events prior to the triumph of 1133. It appears that even after
the fifteen years of his reign, John II’s position had not been secured, and
in 1130. and in 1132, he faced sedition of his younger brother sebastocrator
Isaac, in the wake of his eastern campaigns against the Danishmendids.123
Thus, this serious both internal and external threat directly preceded the
glorious triumph of 1133, which was actually staged in order to ascertain
once more the solidity of John II Komnenos’ reign and the position of his
sons and heirs. As Magdalino conjectured, the four poems by the court
poet Theodore Prodromos, might have been ordered from him because of
the poet’s connection with the sebastocrator Isaac, and thus, presented a
sort of auto da fé from the suspicious Constantinopolitan intelligentsia to
the emperor John II.124 Furthermore, Magdalino adds that “the threat he
felt is most evident from the Typikon of the Pantokrator Monastery” which
was built as “an offering of thanks for God’s help in overcoming both his
external and his internal enemies.”125 To conclude, there are good reasons
to believe that the decade, which started with sebastokrator Isaac’s mutiny,
was the most important for the consolidation of John’s power and for the
complete establishment of the new dynastic policy that would entail solely
John’s direct bloodline.
The thing of my great concern, regarding the timeframe of the composi-
tion of the Alexiad, presents the aforementioned work and influence of the
court rhetors. Theodore Prodromos, the most renowned poet in the third and
fourth decade of the 12th century had many influential patrons, apart from
120 Magdalino, 2016, p. 53-71.

121 Magdalino, 2016, p. 57.
122 Such were, for instance, John’s triumph of 1119, and his defeat of the Pechenegs in 1122 –
Magdalino, 2016, p. 62.
123 Magdalino, 2016, p. 63-64.
124 Magdalino, 2016, p. 65.
125 Magdalino, 2016, p. 64.
the emperor himself. One of the most prominent, except Isaac Komnenos,
were certainly Anna Komnene and Nikephoros Bryennios, who were part
of the same circle, gathered around the still powerful Eirene Doukaina.126
The other highly esteemed rhetor, Prodromos’ fellow and colleague, Michael
Italikos, was also a member of Eirene Doukaina’s theatron, as well as Nicholas
Kallikles, the court physician and poet. By the beat of their pen, it is possible
to feel the complexity of the Constantinopolitan social network, and the
interfamilial rivalry.127 Poems were means of announcing political ideology,
personal ambitions and aspirations. It is certainly not just by chance that the
greatest poet of that time was chosen to prepare songs for the celebration of
John II’s triumph. The poems, which were communicated in the presence
of so many people, were, without any doubts, the interface for the meeting
and interaction of the two powerful systems – the emperor and his subjects.
Therefore, one should not disregard the accelerated production of enkomia
starting from this period and reaching its peak in the years of Manuel I’s
reign. The laudation was a necessity of everyday politics. Anna openly
remarked against the excessive praise that was in her time shed around
the new emperor Manuel. If we go back to Plutarch’s shrewd explanations
in Moralia, then we might understand how this vehicle of the open praise
and disguised blame functioned in the mid-Komnenian epoch:
First, when others are praised, our rivalry erupts, as we said, into praise
of self; it is seised with a certain barely controllable yearning and urge
for glory that stings and tickles like an itch, especially when the other
is praised for something in which he is our equal or inferior. For just as
in the hungry the sight of others eating makes the appetite sharper and
keener, so the praise of others not far removed inflames with jealousy
those who are intemperate in seeking glory.128
The key lies in the premise that all of the Komnenian porphyrogennetoi, felt
both equal and inferior to John II Komnenos, and this had provoked their
discontent, which, in case of Isaac Komnenos, led to an open rebellion, and
in case of Anna Komnene, led into a praise of self.
Anna’s literary endeavour was not conducted immediately after the
death of Alexios in 1118, although it could have happened at that moment.
Therefore, I agree that the conspiracy of 1118 was not a key issue for Anna
126 See for instance, Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, II, XXXVIII-XXXIX.
127 That was mostly analysed by Stanković, 2006, p. 235-270.
Komnene. As I have already remarked, the issue was much bigger and it
happened in the summit of John II Komnenos’ reign. I fully agree with
Magdalino’s conclusion that ‘other Komnenoi apart from the emperors
had imperial pretensions which generated quasi-imperial propaganda’.129
Through analysis of the Komnenian monastic endowments, Stanković has
arrived to the following observation: ‘Anna Komnene was not the only rival
of emperor John II Komenenos, nor was she her brother’s adversary in the
true sense of the world, in this kind of competition in building and ideology
that was going on within the ruling genos’.130
Upon receiving the amnesty from his elder brother, the rebellious Isaac
later fully engaged in the building activities on his own endowment in
which the ideological program followed the same pattern – connection
with the parents, and peculiar relation with the empress mother Eirene
Doukaina, who was even recorded in this typikon as a myrrh-gusher.131 So,
in precisely the same timeframe, around the year 1136, we face the crucial
events that help us in understanding Anna’s narrative style concerning
her brother John II – it was the year when Pantokrator was finished, and
its typikon appeared. It was a supreme testimonial of the establishment
of the Komnenian dynasty, a new imperial mausoleum designated solely
for the members of the dynastic line, as its focal point.132 It was the year
when her brother Isaac was called from exile. In the several following years,
Theodore Prodromos dedicated three important enkomia to him which
celebrated him as basileus.133 Consequently, Isaac committed himself to
building activities, following the example of his brother John.
Isaac’s activity clearly shows that he did not withdraw from his ambitions,
and that he sought to place himself in relation to his imperial parents.134
Approximately in the year 1138, Anna Komenene started to write a history
of her father’s deeds, in which the focal point is the author’s connection
with the protagonists. At the end of the fourth decade of the 12th century,
sibling contest was in the vogue again.
Taking all these elements together, Alexiad should be considered a product
created directly as an answer to both John II’s and Isaac’s policies. Some of
the ideas we find in the Isaac’s typikon of the Theotokos Kosmosoteira –
emphasis on connection with the parents, ‘whom he wrote about with great
129 Magdalino, 2000, p. 20.

130 Stanković, 2011a, p. 61.
131 Stanković, 2011b, p. 286.
132 Stanković, 2011a, p. 59.
133 Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, XL-XLII, p. 380-398.
134 Stanković, 2011a, p .62-63.
warmth, whereas there is not mention of his sons’, with particular and close
connection with mother Eirene Doukaina135 – might have been inspiring
model for a very similar discourse found in Anna’s own (literary) endowment.
The Alexiad was not committed to the conspiracy against John II Kom-
nenos, but to the exposition of a completely identical political ideology to
John II’s official imperial ideology that was endorsed through the monastic
complex of Christ Pantokrator.
Isaac’s pretensions did not fade upon his arrival at the capital, which is
clear precisely from his building activity. Isaac’ peculiar rival position in
relation to John II Komnenos was most probably reflected in Prodromos
use of the term basileus for him.136
In the same fashion, Anna was lauded in a eulogy by George Tornikes,
composed immediately after her death. She was compared to her brother,
basileus, and lauded as his female counterpart: ‘and the place that pertained
to her brother emperor among men, the same she held among women’ (ὅπερ
οὖν ὁ βασιλεὺς ἀδελφὸς ἐν ἀνδράσιν ἦν, τοῦτο ἐν γυναιξὶν ἐκείνη).137
Explanation in the next sentence is even more indicative – John was
ornated with all imperial prerogatives and imperial diadem, whereas she was
‘betrothed to the co-ruler’ and crowned together with him (ἐκεῖνος ἀνεδεῖτο
διάδημα καὶ παρασήμοις βασιλικοῖς ἐνεπόμπευε καὶ αὕτη τῷ συνθρόνῳ τότε τῶν
βασιλέων βασιλεῖ πρὸς γάμον μεμνήστευτο καὶ συνέστεπτο).138
Anna Komnene’s claim for the imperial inheritance apparently never
faded – ‘Who was more father-loving than her’? (τίς γὰρ φιλοπάτωρ τοσοῦτον
ὅσον ἐκείνη) – exclaimed Tornikes, by employing the far-resounding formu-
la.139 The same was used by Kinnamos to describe young Manuel and to
indicate him as the future successor of his dying father.
The fact that this issue was addressed once more in the sixth decade of
the 12th century clearly shows that this controversial theme among the first
purple-born generation of the Komnenoi defied the course of the official
imperial ideology. Also, it is quite clear that Tornikes was a lucid reader of
the Alexiad, having included in his oration the key ideological discursive
markers of Anna Komnene’s text.
George Tornikes dwelt extensively on Anna’s erudition, stating that ‘she
did not nourish love towards empire, but towards wisdom, and learning’
135 Stanković, 2011a, p.63; Stanković 2011b, p. 285-286.

136 cf. Magdalino, 2000, p. 20.
137 Tornikès, Éloge, p. 251 (13.14).
138 Tornikès, Éloge,p. 251 (14.15).
139 Tornikès, Éloge, p. 269.
(οὐ τοσοῦτον τῆς βασιλείας ἔρωτα τρέφουσαν ὅσον σοφίας ὀρεγομένην καὶ τῆς ἐν
λόγοις παιδεύσεως).140 This is the same discursive pattern we see in Prodromos
logos for Isaac Komnenos, where the focus is turned from craving for the
empire towards zeal for philosophy. Especially, in this speech, Isaac’s great
interest in Aristotle is emphasised.141 The story of seclusion and withdrawal
from the secular life, for both Anna and Isaac, meant actually that they
excelled in the supreme virtue. In Aristotle’s Politics we find a notion that ‘a
life released from all external affairs, for example some form of contemplative
life […] is said by some to be the only life that is philosophic’.142 If we apply this
notion to the Anna Komnene’s contemplative and secluded life that means
that she actually presented herself as a supreme philosopher, devoted solely
to in intellectual pursuits. However, insistence on being a philosopher had a
clear political agenda. It seems that the idea of a philosopher-king was shared
by both siblings, Isaac and Anna respectively and was soon transformed
by the rhetors into the idea of the zealous purple-born philosophers. The
supreme prerequisite for being successful in politics is without any doubt,
was to nurture wisdom through philosophy. Aristotle exclaims:
For it is manifest that these are the two modes of life principally chosen
by the men most ambitious of excelling in virtue, both in past times and
at the present day – I mean the life of politics and the life of philosophy.
And it makes no little difference which way the truth lies; for assuredly
the wise are bound to arrange their affairs in the direction of the better
goal – and this applies to the state collectively as well as to the individual
human being.143
The story about John II Komnenos’ early years is absent from the Alexiad’s
narrative. We are not able to see the development of John II’s ‘good natural
disposition’. According to Aristotle, those gifts bestowed on someone at birth
develop in a good and noble natural environment, and later ‘constitute a good
disposition in the full’.144 The only one among siblings whose development
through good and noble natural environment we see throughout the Alexiad
is Anna Komnene. In the company of her imperial parents she was perfectly
able to develop her good disposition in the full.
140 Tornikès, Éloge, 253 (9.10).

144 Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 1114b.
Behind Anna’s psogos
As a skilled rhetorician, Anna refrained from the open accusations against

her brother. According to Plutarch, that would be inadmissible:
But when a man intermingles praise of himself with censure of another,

and uses another’s disgrace to secure glory for himself, he is altogether
odious and vulgar, as one who would win applause from the humiliation
of another. No other kind of talk is so odious or offensive’.145
Only in the book XIV Anna’s attitude towards her brother John is plainly accus-
ing, pointing at him and his son as the main culprits for the empire’s inability
to preserve peace with the sultan – ‘And all his efforts proved futile due to the
foolishness of those who held the sceptre after him’.146 A derogatory tone of this
passage was acknowledged already in the time of the manuscript circulation,
when the word ἀβελτηρίᾳ was replaced with the neutral phrase by the copyist.147
In the same book, Anna delivers the most important elements of her
writing program, and in these passages, she refers to the sad state to which
she was brought by those who ruled after her father:
For during these last thirty years, I swear it by the souls of the most
blessed Emperors, I have neither seen nor spoken to a friend of my father’s.
This is due partly to many of them having died and partly to many be-
ing prevented by fear. For the powers that be (those who ruled, L.V.)
condemned us to this ridiculous position so that we should not be seen,
but be a general object of abhorrence.148
As noted already by Reinsch, this passage also had emendations in the other
version of the manuscript, pointing at the similarity of these changes in the
two passages. The final outcome of these addenda was alleviation of the
sharpness of words against the emperors.149

146 ‘ἀλλὰ γὰρ συγκατέδυ τῷ βασιλεῖ πάντα τὰ λῴονα, καὶ κενόσπουδος αὐτῷ ἡ σπουδὴ μετὰ τὴν αὐτοῦ
παρέλευσιν γέγονεν ἀβελτηρίᾳ τῶν διαδεξαμένων τὰ σκῆπτρα’ – Alexias, XIV, 3,9 (41.43), p. 438.
147 The diffrence between the manuscripts F and C – Alexias, p. 438 (42.43).
148 ‘εἰς τριακοστὸν γὰρ τοῦτο ἔτος, μὰ τὰς τῶν μακαριωτάτων αὐτοκρατόρων ψυχάς, οὐκ ἐθεασάμην,
οὐκ εἶδον, οὐχ’ ὡμιλήκειν ἀνθρώπῴ πατρῴῳ, τοῦτο μὲν πολλῶν ἀπερρευηκότων, τοῦτο δὲ τῶν πολλῶν
ἀπειργομένων τῷ φόβῳ’. – Alexias, XIV, 7,6 (59.62), p. 452.
149 Again, the difference between manuscripts F and C, where after the word “fear” (φόβῳ) was
inserted the formula δία τὴν τῶν πραγμάτων παλίρροιαν – Alexias, p. 452 (62).
This is the only passage in the Alexiad where we can align Anna’s de-
spondency with the direct action of her brother and cousin. Read against
Aristotle’s Rhetoric, one easily see into the background of Anna’s literary
style. It is well advised that a speaker must wisely measure his words and
open accusations against those who had wronged him. Therefore, we lack
a substantial amount of open censure. If Anna resorted to narrative filled
with allegations against her brother, she would appear as a spiteful and
vicious character, and she would significantly despoil her ethos from all
commendable virtues:
In deliberative oratory, it is more useful that the orator should appear to

be of a certain character, in forensic, that the hearer should be disposed
in a certain way; for opinions vary, according as men love or hate, are
wrathful or mild, and things appear either altogether different, or different
in degree; for when a man is favorably disposed towards one on whom he
is passing judgment, he either thinks that the accused has committed no
wrong at all or that his offence is trifling; but if he hates him, the reverse
is the case.150
For Anna to be of a certain (commendable) character, and for her audience to

be disposed favourably toward her account, a redundancy of anger, disdain
and slight was strictly forbidden. However, she did not refrain completely
from the open accusations, because her audience might conclude that John
‘has committed no wrong’. Anna Komnene found a perfect measure in
her cautious blame. In that sense, only John’s and Manuel’s action against
her could have been understood as ὕβρις, and not vice versa. It means that
she suffered an insult, whereby ‘the sufferer is disgraced’ and the one who
slights against him ‘does not obtain any other advantage for himself besides
the performance of the act’ and ‘for its own pleasure’. We are deprived of
the whole story behind Anna’s alleged seclusion; she does not elaborate
the circumstances of that situation. Anna touches upon it slightly and
immediately turns her story to the other direction. Rhetorical vocabulary
has a matching figure for this peculiarity and it is aposiopesis, when ‘the
silent suspicion of what might have been said is fiercer than a detailed
explanation’.151
One should expect to see open passages of Anna’s odium toward her
brother, but to try to understand those rare mentions of him through their

151 Anderson Jr. 2000, p. 24.
rhetorical guise. Anna’s criticism of John Komnenos’ is present once more

in the closing chapter of the Alexiad, on Alexios’ deathbed:
The emperor’s heir had already gone away to the house set apart for him,
when he realised the emperor’s… he hastened his departure and went
off quickly to the Great palace. The city was at the time… in a state of
confusion, but there was no absolute chaos… The empress in her wild grief
said “Let everything be abandoned” … “the diadem, empire, authority, all
power, and thrones and principalities. Let us begin the funeral dirge.152
John’s action while Alexios was dying is presented in contrast to the com-
mitment of Alexios’ wife and daughter to him. The corresponding rhetorical
figure is antitheton, which is ‘a thought balanced against thought’ according
to the following scheme ‘You played the third part in plays; I was a spectator.
You were a clerk; I was a member of the assembly. You were driven from the
stage; I hissed’.153 The antithesis created is further enforced with the speech
in tragic style from the perspective of Eirene Doukaina. The tragic style is
achieved through brevity and Homer did this ‘not through description of
Ilium, omitting it artistically, but by describing, instead, ‘the sack of every
city in two verses’.154 A loss of one palace is nothing compared to ‘diadem,
empire, authority, all power, throne and principalities’. Furthermore, in
the same way as ‘at the death of Hector, Andromache gives a speech and
Hecabe too, but also Helen and a chorus of Trojan women, and there are
many dramatic scenes that, so to speak, complete the tragedy’,155 Anna puts
the focus of this whole narrative unit to Eirene’s funeral dirge, making her
style more forceful and persuasive, always paying attention to the propriety
of style, since as Aristotle says ‘ Propriety of style will be obtained by the
expression of emotion and character, and by proportion to the subject
matter’.156 Exaggeration in these sensitive parts of the narrative would
certainly spoil Anna’s propriety. As a skilled rhetorician, she weaved her
accusation through formidable net of rhetorical figures.
The turbulent situation on Alexios’ deathbed is delivered by Zonaras,
whose account corresponds to Anna’s although he did not refrain from
exposing Eirene’s lust for power. As I have already explained, we can find

153 Rabe, Invention and Method, p. 231.
154 Rabe, Invention and Method, p. 259.
155 Ibid.
some important additions to the familial relations from Anna’s story in

Zonaras’ epitome. Such is, for instance, Anna’s affection toward her younger
brother Andronikos, dislike of her brother John and complete indifference
toward her brother Isaac. Zonaras reveals the circumstances of these rela-
tions stating that: ‘The younger of the brothers was devoted to him, but the
other, Andronikos of course, was opposed to his brother and emperor’.157
Anna’s extensive autopsy of Alexios’ final days and her personal involve-
ment in the treatment of Alexios’ illness is omitted by Zonaras, but he,
nevertheless, states that Eirene was surrounded by her daughters.158 His
account on John Komnenos says following:
And he entered the palace, where the dying one lay, not in order to start
the dirge, but to be assured in his death with his own eyes. And upon
seeing it, he marched out and mounting his horse, he went out of the
Mangana palace with his comrades. And upon his egress many more
followed him.159
In the Alexiad, John’s fleeing to the Great Palace is set before Alexios’
death. Anna is clear upon the sequence of events in this case. What is very
interesting is that Zonaras dwells precisely on the same issue – whether
John acted upon his father’s death, or before. Furthermore, Zonaras delivers
us a verbatim quotation of Eirene Doukaina, ‘And your son left to take over
the Empire while you are still alive’.160
Thus, he gives us an important clue on how to read the Alexiad in these
lines – Anna scorned her brother’s actions, although the corrupted text
precludes detangling the exact rhetorical figures she employed. In addition
to this, Anna did not name John, but referred to him only as ‘successor’ (ὁ
τῆς βασιλείας διάδοχος) whereas Zonaras refers to him as ‘emperor’s son’
or even as ‘purple-born autocrator’. John’s status of Alexios’ co-ruler is not
disputable in Zonaras account. Only Eirene’s attitude towards that state
of affairs is controversial. Anna’s reference to John is impersonal and he is
not related in any way to her or any member of their immediate household
gathered around Alexios.
157 ‘προσέκειτο δ’αυτῷ καὶ τῶν ἀδελφῶν ὁ νεώτερος. θάτερος δέ γε, δηλαδὴ ὁ Ἀνδρόνικος, τῷ συγγόνῳ
καὶ βασιλεῖ ἠναντίωτο’ – Zonaras XVIII 24, 25, p. 748.
158 ‘ἡ δέ γε βασίλισσα ὅλη τοῦ πάθους ἦν καὶ συνῆκτο περὶ αὐτὴν τά θυγάτρια’ – Zonaras XVIII
28,15, p. 761.
159 Zonaras XVIII 28,16-17, p.761.
160 ‘ἄπεισιν ὁ υἱός σου ἔτι ζῶντά σε τὴν βασιλείαν ἀφαιρησόμενος’ – Zonaras XVIII 28,20, p. 762.
Two accounts of the same story show how different discourses shed
the light on different aspects, important for an author’s personal agenda.
The focalizer is very important, which is, in the case of the Alexiad, Anna
Komnene herself. She tells her own story from her own viewpoint, and
from that particular angle, John Komnenos was just an emperor’s successor,
without a name or a title. He is not enumerated among those who took care
for the dying emperor, or who bewailed his death. The short mention of John
is followed by the statement that the city was disturbed, but not entirely,
and with Eirene’s augural dirge, ‘Let everything go to destruction…’
Eirene’s utterance, delivered as a part of rhetorical seasoning of the
empresses’ mourning, corresponds with Zonaras’ account on Eirene’s disap-
pointment after the failure of her plans.
It was rumoured, among many other things, this one in particular – that
purple-born autocrator did not enter the palace without his father’s
ordain, and that it was the outcome from what has been granted to him
of which the token was his father’s ring: and that happened without the
knowledge and the presence of the Empress.161
Neville notes that Zonaras does not mention Anna Komnene as an actor in
the final scenes of Alexios’ illness and death.162 Even though it is true, it still
does not disqualify Anna as participant in Eirene’s scheme. Zonaras says
that Eirene was particularly fond of her eldest daughter, and had plans for
her husband, also, as I have already stressed, Eirene appears surrounded by
her daughters. The simplest answer for Anna’s exclusion from Zonaras’ story
can be the timeframe of Zonaras’ writing – Anna Komnene was probably
still alive while Zonaras was composing his history. Taunting one of the most
highly esteemed members of the Komnenian house while they were still
active in Constantinople would not have been the wisest thing to do. Here
I would also agree with Neville that Anna’s involvement in the plot was not
of prime importance. The severity of this whole design was the fact it was
conducted by the emperor’s wife and future emperor’s mother. Zonaras’
argument is focused on the issue of Eirene Doukaina and her disposition
towards her closest ones. The brother-sister conflict would not have had
the same impact as the mother-son conflict had.
We have the accounts of three writers on the same story. In contrast
to Niketas Choniates’ history, which I would not address at this moment,
161 Zonaras XVIII 28,21, p. 762.

162 Neville, 2016, p. 96.
since he does not pertain to the same chronological frame, Zonaras’ and
Anna’s histories were the two sides of the same political dialogue. Yet, all
three of them constructed their stories according to their discursive styles,
tending to present their own political or personal agendas. Some parts of
the stories they shared, and we can search for congruencies or, conversely,
their disagreements. As I ventured into the task of understanding Anna’s
bias, I went back to her account on John and concluded the following:
– The instigator of the whole scheme was Eirene Doukaina.
– Anna’s characterisation of Eirene Doukaina aimed to answer the negative
image in Zonaras’ account.
– Although Anna Komnene’s factual role in the plot might not have been
that important as suggested and interpreted by modern scholars, Anna’s
personal disappointment of John’s succession was abiding.
– We cannot reach the ultimate truth of the events – we can only interpret
Anna’s personal views and her views are directed toward her brother
John, who is almost completely erased from the pages of her history.
– In the closing books of the Alexiad, Anna did not refrain from being
openly scornful towards her brother.
– In the two episodes – the birth of Alexios’ three children and the birth
John’s twins – Anna tends to promulgate her supremacy over John
Komnenos and to stress the deficient legitimacy of his successor.
– Anna tentatively conducted a damnatio memoriae of her brother.
John in the episode of the birth of the Porphyrogennetoi
The crucial self-referential story from Book VI will be addressed once more,
with the focus on John Komnenos. The story of the birth of Alexios and
Eirene’s three children is, in fact, Anna’s ekphrasis of her birth and John’s
birth. This narrative unit has two opposite thematic poles – the first theme
is the birth of Anna Komnene, and the other of her younger brother John.
Maria’s birth is mentioned as a narrative intermezzo between two mutually
opposed ekphraseis. Maria’s birth has a conjunction role for these two
opposing stories as a passing-by sentence that begins with the word ἐπεί
which stands as an explanatory mark of the story that immediately follows:
[Since they beget another daughter] they much desired to have a son as
well, and their prayer was granted.163
163 ‘ἐπεὶ δὲ τοῖς βασιλεῦσι καί δεύτερον ἐτέχθη θῆλυ, ἀναφέρον μὲν κατὰ τὴν ὄψιν ἐς τοὺς προγόνους,
ἐμφαῖνον δ’ ἅμα καὶ τὴν ἐσύστερον ἐπιλάμψουσαν αὐτῷ ἀρετήν τε καὶ φρόνησιν, ἐπεπόθουν καὶ ἄρρεν
The choice of the word ἐπεί is very significant since it focuses the reader’s
attention on the story that follows. John’s birth is the story on which the
author aimed to draw the audience’s attention. What is even more significant
is that behind the focus on John’s birth lies Anna’s tendency to compare the
story of her own birth with her brother’s.
Zonaras delivers an account that is more blatantly focused on the an-
tagonism between Anna and John, bringing them as the main characters
in his story too, which will develop further with Eirene’s inclination toward
her oldest daughter.
And Augusta begot a daughter to the Emperor that was named Anna,
after her grandmother. She was betrothed by the emperor to Empress
Maria of Alania’s son Constantine. And since he died while still engaged,
the daughter was married to the other groom, the elder son of Nikephoros
Bryennios, about whose insurrection, capture and blinding has already
been said. After this, he was granted a title of panupersebaston. And
the Emperor got also a son that was baptised in the Church of the Holy
Wisdom by the patriarch, named John and immediately crowned with the
imperial diadem by his father. The Emperor got two more sons, Andronikos
and Isaac, and three other daughters, Maria, Eudokia and Theodora.164
There are several distinctive features of Zonaras’ story that are important
for our observation. His account on the porphyrogennetoi was focused
primarily on Anna and John. It is interesting that the augousta is named as
the actor in the first case – she begot a daughter to the emperor – whereas in
the case of the son, the focus is on the emperor – he got a son. So, Zonaras’
story of the future conflict actually starts in these passages, where we see
what the reason of the strife was Anna’s first engagement to imperial scion
Constantine. Zonaras also deploys a peculiar form of disparagement of her
second fiancée and husband, Bryennios, presenting him as the son of a
rebel whose tyrannia was marked in his blinding. This rather curious and
non-laudable manner to introduce the story of the firstborn princess is a
powerful overture for the later plot. Anna is presented as an eponymous
descendant of her grandmother, which corresponds with Anna’s whole
presentation of her grandmother as her ideological paradigm. The symbolic
of a name is essential for metaphorical characterisation and transmission of
the idea of that person’s direct inheritor. Furthermore, Anna’s connection
τεκεῖν καὶ διεὐχῆς αὐτοῖς τοῦτ’ ἦν’. Alexias, VI 8,4 (28.31), p. 185.
164 Zonaras XVIII 22, 23-27, p. 738-739.
with augousta Eirene has its match in the Alexiad – in the story of her own
birth, she emphasises her connection with her mother, and later with her’s
family branch. Zonaras does not structure his story chronologically and he
does not set Maria between Anna and John. He places her later, after her
brothers, so her importance is ephemeral. Zonaras’ argument is focused
on the antagonism between Anna and John, which is also visible in Anna’s
story, although she does not omit Maria.
How should we read Anna’s passages in the Alexiad? The stories of her
birth and John’s birth show an apparent antagonism at various levels.165 Anna
uses ekphraseis in both cases, for the purposes of placing the subject matter
‘before the eyes’ of the readers. Thus, the powerful junction of words and
images that is created sought to captivate the audience’s attention so it could
feel the events that are being described and participate emotionally in them.
It is necessary to stress the importance of the rhetorical form used since it is
a compelling medium for the persuasion of the audience. Through vividness
and descriptive vocabulary, the reader is lead from the Porphyra and the
empress’ most intimate moments when she was about to give birth to her first
child, to the imperial ceremonies that were held in honour of Anna’s birth,
and to her acclamations together with Alexios’ chosen successor. The reader is
guided through the hall of Anna’s fame to the uncertainty of her fate: ‘Maybe
it foreshadowed what was about to befall me afterwards, for good or ill’.166
After this interlude with Anna’s announcement of the change of her fate,
we come to the part that is most interesting:
When a second daughter was born (to their majesties), very like her parents,
and at the same time showing clear signs of the virtue and wisdom which
were to distinguish her in later years, they longed for a son and he became
the object of their prayers. Thus in the eleventh Indiction a boy was indeed
born to them – an event immediately followed by great rejoicing; not a trace
of disappointment remained now that their desire was fulfilled. The entire
people, seeing the pleasure of their rulers, made merry; everyone was pleased
and all together were glad. The palace then was a place of perfect happiness,
all sorrow and worries of all kinds banished and the the rest pretended to
share their joy (whilst the others feigned delight). A people, as a rule, are
in general not well-disposed to their rulers, but usually counterfeit loyalty
and by flattery win the favour of their betters. Anyway on this one occasion
the universal delight was there for all to see. The little boy was of a swarthy
165 See Orlov, 2012, p. 354-356; Vilimonović, 2014, p. 110-114, 277-279.

complexion, with a broad forehead, lean cheeks, a nose neither snub nor
aquiline but something between the two, very black eyes which betokened,
as far as one can judge from an infant’s face, a quick intelligence. As [they]
naturally wished to raise this child to the rank of Emperor and leave him the
empire of the Romans as his inheritance, they deemed him worthy of being
baptised and crowned in the great church of God. This is what happened to
us children, ‘born in the purple’ from the very starting-point of our birth.
What befell us later, shall be narrated in due order.167
This section contains an important paradox I wish to stress. It is focused on

the effect that the birth of imperial son caused in the palace – ‘at those days
the palace was filled with joy’168 – but it was not a unanimous joy as Anna
states immediately after this, ‘for all the well-disposed rejoiced from the
bottom of their heart, whilst the others feigned delight’.169 One can easily
discern that charmone was actually deprived of its harmony. Who were those
people that ‘feigned delight’? Did Anna aim a particular group? Why did
she insert this addition that breaks the ideal picture of a much-desired heir?
Also, the following sentence elaborates further Anna’s peculiar paradox,
‘A people, as a rule, are ill-affected to its rulers, but by much pretence and
flattery win the favour of their superiors’. From the sincere joy ‘from the
bottom of the heart’ of all people, we face actually the joy of some, and the
‘pretence’ of others, whose joy was only a form of flattery. Anna’s wording
is interesting and should be stressed. In these several lines, she used twice
the word χαρμονή and twice the verb σχηματίζω. In the passages where she
stresses, and finally concludes, that everyone (ἅπαντος) was filled with
delight, she injects the ‘feigned delight’ (τῶν δὲ συσχηματιζομένων χαίρειν) of
some and dwells on the fraudulent nature of the subjects. Anna’s paradox
is clearly her ironic ploy. After this passage she continues with the physical
appearance of the newborn son. The short ekphrasis of his physical traits is
deprived of harmony, as much as the happiness of the people described above.
In our search for those who feigned delight, we should turn the attention to
the previous passages that describe the joy of the people after Anna was born
and the seemingly coincidental notion on the great joy of the Doukai family:
167 Alexiad, p. 197-198; the quotation has my emendations.

168 ‘καὶ ἦν ἰδεῖν τὰ βασίλεια χαρμονῆς ἀνάπλεω’ – Alexias, VI 8,4 (35.36), p. 185.
169 ‘καὶ ἦν ἰδεῖν τὰ βασίλεια χαρμονῆς ἀνάπλεω καὶ πένθους οὐδαμοῦ οὐδ’ ἑτέρας οἱασδηποτοῦν ἐννοίας,
τῶν μὲν ἐκ μέσης θαλάμης καρδίας χαιρόντων ὁπόσοιεὖνοι, τῶν δὲ συσχηματιζομένων χαίρειν.”Alexias,
VI 8,4 (35.38), 185. Anna used μὲν… δὲ to emphasise the antagonism, whilst in the description
of the ceremonies that followed her birth there is no use of these particles. Instead, she insists
that “everyone” (ἅπαντες) were pleased, but above all (καὶ μᾶλλον), the empress’ kinship.
All the ceremonies usual at the birth of an Emperor’s child were performed
most lavishly, that is to say, acclamations and presents and honours
given at such a time to the heads of the Senate and the army, so that
all were more joyful and exultant than ever before and loud in their
praises, especially the Empress’ [blood] relations who could not contain
themselves for joy.170
Anna’s reflection on the deceptive and fraudulent nature of some people

should be taken within the context of her own negative disposition towards
this particular event. That feigned delight could be understood as Doukai’s
stance on the sudden change of their position, due to John’s birth. Tightly
connected with that was Anna’s own sentiment, since she ends the story
of her birth with an ambiguous statement: ‘This was perhaps symbolic
of what should befall me later, whether it can be called good, or on the
contrary, ill fortune’.
She leaves her audience here without an explanation for her ill fortune,
but she does speak about the events that ‘befell her later’ in the following
lines when she describes the birth of the first son and heir, John II Komnenos.
Indeed, these events occurred in the span of four years – between her and
John’ birth (1083. and 1087.) – or eight years – between her betrothal to
Constantine and John Komnenos coronation in 1092. The whole narrative
unit ends with the story of John’s baptism and crowning in the church of
Hagia Sophia. From a literary perspective, we could divide Anna’s narration
in the following way:
– exposition – when Anna opens the story of her birth;
– exaltation – when Anna describes the ceremonies that followed her
birth and her place in the imperial acclamations jointly with Alexios’
co-ruler, the purple-born Constantine Doukas;
– complication – represents the birth of the ‘much desired’ son and heir;
– ill fortune – ends in raising ‘this child to the rank of Emperor’.
170 Alexias, VI 8,3 (11.16), p. 184. Here, Anna uses the construction ‘καθ’ αἷμα προσήκοντες’ which is
typical for denoting Alexios’ group of closest followers, mostly on the battlefield. It is interesting
that Irene is presented also as having her own group of closest people, which is emphasised
especially in this passage. Anna intentionally stressed this to strengthen once more her close
and unique relationship with the empress’ mother and with her kinship. The mutual connection
with both parents, on which Anna persisted, symbolises the idea of her double legitimacy. See
Stanković 2006, 202-209.
When viewed as a separate narrative unity, this important passage carries

many crucial political messages171 focused on Anna’s claim to the imperial
throne, based on the events and circumstances of her birth. The story of her
birth is one of the typical examples of a basilikos logos prologue, which is
usually reserved for a story of birth and origin. Anna’s own birth is described
in a highly flattering manner, where the stress is laid on her likeness to
her father, with an almost magical connection to him while she had been
waiting in her mother’s womb for the emperor’s return. The simultaneous
occurrence of these events – Alexios’ triumphant return and Anna’s birth
– conveys the message of Anna’s almost transcendental predetermination
for the imperial throne. Her predestined basileia was confirmed once more
in her binding to the purple-born Constantine Doukas, and his imperial
legacy. The story of Maria’s birth is a conjunction between the two op-
posing stories. Maria’s birth followed Anna’s, and this is convenient in a
literary sense, since it conceals the overt comparison of Anna’s and John’s
birth. The story of Maria’s birth is not as descriptive as those of Anna’s and
John’s, which leaves us with an impression of a passing-by story. The most
interesting indicator that refers to Anna’s intentional way of constructing
this narrative unit is the silence about the birth of all the other purple-born
children of the imperial couple. This clearly suggests Anna’s intention not
to speak about the birth of Alexios’ and Eirene’s children but to tell the
story of the right she gained by her birth, of which she was deprived with
the birth of John Komnenos. The story of her birth is concluded with the
birth of John Komnenos, which chronologically does not pertain to this part
of the narrative, but contextually completely fulfils the intention of Anna
Komnene to conclude the story of the ‘ill fortunes that befell her’ after her
birth with the story of John’s coronation.
Aesthetic criteria are very important.172Anna tried to convey the message
of her unprecedented resemblance to the father-emperor, in contrast to the
other children. There is a certain amount of decreasing gradation in the
description of the children’s physical likeness with their imperial parents.
Anna completely resembled the father-emperor, while Maria resembled her
“ancestors” (τοὺς προγόνους), which is obviously more imprecise than the
previous description. On the other hand, John was not compared physically
to any of his predecessors. It is even more striking that we are left with a
171 Stanković (forthcoming), 7-10, analyses Anna’s narration on John’s coronation and on subtle,
but probably intentional, omissions she made.
172 Anna’s portraiture is a significant literary ploy. Through a form of physical description, she
introduces simultaneously the description of a moral character. – Laiou, 2000, p. 9.
detailed account of his appearance, apparently, for the purposes of criticism.

One should only recall Anna’s considerations on physical appearance of
certain characters that made them worthy of the imperial throne: ‘There
was a certain Synadenus of Levantine origin, of illustrious descent, and fine
appearance, a thoughtful youth of strong physique on the verge of manhood,
who apart from other considerations was a family of Nicephorus’173 or even
more direct consideration of physical beauty as a trait that deeply influences
the spectator and his disposition, ‘Alexios thought it right to give them every
consideration, partly in pity for their sufferings, partly because they were
exceptionally handsome and strong, on the threshold of manhood, tall and
finely proportioned, […] their very appearance, to anyone not blinded by
prejudice, manifested a spirit that was both passionate and brave’.174
In the same manner, beauty of the body is also bestowed upon Bryennios,
among all other typical manly qualities: ‘For everything, strength, agility,
physical charm, in fact all the good qualities of mind and body, combined
to glorify that man’.175
With Empress Maria of Alania’s worry for her ‘fair-haired Menelaos’, and
with a detailed ekphrasis of Constantine Doukas’ beauty, the intention of
the authoress is clear – she aims to touch her audience and make it feel
sympathy for her protagonist. The description of Constantine serves precisely
as a literary paradigm replete with aesthetic topoi that send a unanimous
message to the audience about Constantine’s imperial disposition, that is,
his suitability for the throne which could be derived only from his imperial
provenance and his physical beauty. As a character he is deprived of any
agency, but Anna’s ekphrasis serves precisely as a rhetorical tool to transmit
this political agenda. The description of Constantine is an antinomy of how
John was described – he has a ‘milk-white complexion, suffused in the
right places with a delicate pink, like that of rose just bursting its sheath’,
whereas John’s complexion is ‘pale’ and his cheeks are ‘lean’. Even more
interesting is Anna’s description of Constantine’s eye colour, ‘his eyes were
not light, but gleamed from under his eyebrows like those of a hawk’s under a
golden hood’.176 This literary style precisely shows how ‘not light’ eyes
173 Alexiad, p. 75.

174 Alexiad, p. 280; ‘παντοίας θεραπείας ἠξίου τὸ μέν τι δι’ὃ πεπόνθασιν οἰκτείρων αὐτούς, τό δέ τι καὶ
τοὺς νέους ὁρῶν κατά τε σώματος ὥραν καὶ ῥωμην διαφέροντας τῶν πολλῶν’ – Alexias, ΙΧ 6,1 (5.7),
p. 270-271.
176 Alexias, VI 8,5 (41.45), p. 185: ‘τὸδὲ παιδίον μέλαν ἦν τὴν χροιάν, μέτωπον τούτω ἐυρύ, παρειαι
ὑπόξηροι, ῥὶς οὔτε σιμὴ οὔτε κάμπτουσα πρὸς τό γρυπόν, ἀλλὰ μέση πως ἀμφοῖν – ὀφθαλμοὶ μελάντεροι
καὶ τὸ ὑποακαθήμενον ἦθος καὶ ὀξύ, ὅσον ἐκ βρεφυλλίου σώματος εἰκάσαι. ἐμφαίνοντες’.
could be praised. The description of Constantine is filled with words that

denote fairness (ξανθός), shining (λάμπω), brightness (λευκός), and redness
(ἐρυθρός).177 It fits perfectly into Menander’s canon for basilikos logos with
special focus on the verb λάμπω (ἐκλάμπω, καταλάμπω): ‘Straight from the
labour of his mother’s womb, he shone forth radiant in beauty, dazzling the
visible universe, rivalling the fairest star in the sky’.178
This is directly opposed to John’s dark complexion, which is described
with the ominous word μελανός. Furthermore, this adjective is used once
more in its comparative form, where she stresses that his eyes are even
more black (μελάντεροι). Anna’s use of the adjective μελανός is very peculiar.
She uses this adjective as an antithesis of the imperial red (ἐρυθρός and
κόκκινος) and precisely in the passage where she explains what happened
with Constantine’s legacy when Emperor Michael’s relinquished the imperial
throne:
Now when his father Michael Ducas was ousted from the throne, Queen
Maria’s son, Constantine Porphyrogennetos, doffed the red buskins (τὰ
ἐρυθρὰ μὲν πέδιλα) of his own accord and assumed ordinary black ones
(τὰ δὲ κοινὰ καὶ μέλανα), but Nikephoros Botaneiates who succeeded his
father as Emperor, bade him take off the black buskins (τὰ μὲν μέλανα)
and wear silk shoes of varied colours (ἐκ ποικίλων δὲ σηρικῶν), as he felt
some reverence for the young man, and liked him for his beauty and his
high descent, for he grudged him indeed the splendour of entirely red
buskins (τὸ μὲν γὰρ κόκκινον τῶν πεδίλων), but allowed him to have a few
spots of red (τὸ δὲ τινας τόπους τὸ κόκκινον) shewing in his woven shoes.179
The symbolic of colours is pervasive in these passages and shows how it

was deeply rooted in the metonymical characterisation of an emperor. Red
was the colour reserved solely for the emperor, and this peculiar ploy with
‘entirely red buskins’ or those with a ‘few spots of red’ shows remarkably
177 See, for example, the descriptions of Constantine Doukas (Alexias, I 12,3 (80.83); III 1,3 (34.41)),
Maria of Alania (Alexias, III 2,4 (20.37)) and Eirene Doukaina (Alexias, 2001, III 3,3 (18.46)). Alexios’
main enemies – Robert and Bohemond – where also described in a lauded manner with the
same topoi, which can be explained as a literary means of contributing to Alexios’ magnitude.
Only the description of John stands alone in contrast to all the others, which can be understood
as Anna’s specific discourse the crucial motive of which was John’s unfitness for the imperial
throne.
178 ‘μετὰ τὴν γένεσιν ἐρεῖς τι καὶ περὶ φύσεως, οἶον ὁτι ἐξέλαμψεν ἐξ ὠδίνων εὐειδὴς τῷ κάλλει
καταλάμων τὸ φαινόμενον ἀστέρι καλλίστω τῶν οὐρανὸν ἐφάμιλλος’. – Menander Rhetor, Basilikos
logos, p. 82 (15-17).
179 Alexias, III 4,5 (10.19), p. 97.
the division of power between Botaneiates and Constantine Doukas, that

is, the Doukas’ subordination to Botaneiates. The adjective μελανός clearly
corresponds with the non-imperial status and is the opposite of the imperial
red, not of the white, as it would be expected. Clearly, colours were not
deployed for aesthetic appeal but as crucial discursive markers. The word
μελανός was also used as a means of labelling the monastic garb. It denoted
monks, but, in the political vocabulary of the Byzantines, it denoted one’s
fall from favour, and inability or prohibition to participate in secular poli-
cies. In Anna’s vocabulary this word was linked precisely to the imperial
vocabulary in a sense that it denoted one’s inability to procure supreme
power, metaphorically presented in the colour of red. Floral redness of
Constantine’s cheeks confronts the dark complexion of John’s skin colour
and his lean cheeks. Furthermore, Constantine’s face shines and emanates
light, whereas John’s colour of face which was μελανός could not be associated
with the trait of emanating light or brightness. So, the ultimate imperial
symbol, the sun, could not have ever been ascribed to John. Anna used
both the positive and comparative forms of this adjective which is striking,
and so is her statement that one could judge his ethos from these traits. In
these lines, she did not leave her audience with an ambiguous sentiment.
The message was poignant – ἀλλ’ὁ Αἰθίοψ οὐκ ἐλευκαίνετο.180
One would hardly expect such naturalistic presentation of the imperial
successor, which stands completely isolated among many other portraits
in the Alexiad that are fashioned in the same or very similar manner as
Constantine. Anna’s words deployed in this passage are not usual for her
register, and they serve as a rhetorical medium for the transmission of blame.
What is also important, and not easily perceptible from this translation,
is that those ‘very black eyes’ (ὀφθαλμοὶ μελάντεροι) showed his character
(ἦθος), and his sharpness (ὀξύ). The adjective μέλας, which suggested a dark
and malignant character, had an especially negative meaning. And precisely
that colour was used as a mirror of his character. The word oxus has various
meanings, it generally describes sharpness of mind, but metaphorically it
alludes to one’s propensity towards anger.181 It is interesting that a possible
translation of ὀξύς can be ‘brightness’ that leaves a dazzling impression on
180 Alexias, IX 5,5 (38), p. 271.

181 This methaporical use is found in Iliad, and is an epithet that goes with Ares – ‘ἴομεν ὄφρα
κε θᾶσσον ἐγείρομεν ὀξὺν Ἄρηα’ Homer, Iliad, 2.440 – This is also an interesting congruence,
since there is not any more suitable person from the Komnenian epoch to be invested with
the epithet of Ares than John II Komnenos, being equated in political verses by Prodromos as
the god of war. However, Ares and Kronos were, according to Tzetzes Allegories, the forces of
destruction and harm – Tzetzes, Allegories of the Iliad, p. 384-385.
its beholders. But this translation would then comprise a second paradox,
the ‘brightness of blackness’. However, not going further into the semiotic
deconstruction of the true meaning of the deployed word, I would go back
to the general impression of the whole citation which is clearly negative.182
The audience which had been adapted to the use of physical traits as means
of metonymical characterisation was certainly aware of Anna’s tendency
in these lines. The final remark, which is also a kind of a paradox, is Anna’s
conclusion that his eyes betokened his character, ‘as far as one can judge
from child’s appearance’. This forced precariousness is not present in her
free estimate of her sister’s appearance that immediately showed her future
virtues, her excellence (ἀρετήν) and wisdom (φρόνησιν).
It is interesting that Anna never spoke about her own physical appearance.
She stated that someone else should judge her appearance, not her. However,
she did leave us an important clue, she wished to be remembered. According
to her testimony, she resembled her father completely.
In the ideological concept of the Komnenian mosaics, there is an impor-
tant feature that could be useful for Anna Komnene’s case. Images of men
– of fathers and sons, of emperors and their successors – show significant
resemblance between them, indicating an established and predetermined
succession line. In the world of imagery, a chosen imperial heir was presented
as an inheritor of his father’s physical features.183 Visual culture spoke
through images, and physical resemblance spoke about state ideology and
one’s predestination for the imperial throne. If we consider Anna’s literary
work as her most important endowment which speaks of her ideology, not
through visual images, but through textual images, then her emphasis on
her complete resemblance with her father-emperor suggests an important
political message: that only she was the predestined heir of their father.
182 In the most recent study on the Alexiad, John’s description has been given a positive appraisal,
with the argument that John was dark-skinned, and that ‘apparently Anna did not invent the detail
of John’s dark skin in order to denigrate her brother’– Neville, 2016, p.143. – That is quite true. John
was even called Mauroioannis by Prodromos in his poems, but that does not have anything to do
with the imagery of the Alexiad. If we start from the assumption that Anna did not ‘invent’ anything,
then actually the palace was filled with milk-skinned people with dazzling bright or grey eyes, rosy
cheeks and all other wonders of beautiful people. Also, according to same analogy, all generals were
just like Achilles or Hector. Anna used topoi in order to transmit messages, as all other rhetors. If any
of her characters was in reality as described in the Alexiad is irrelevant for the argument. The main
point of the whole issue is its literary resonance – people will always find his description awkward,
when measured in relation to all other characters of the Alexiad. Actually, all Komnenians were
dark-skinned, but we, somehow ended up talking end elaborating the issue of John Komnenos. Anna
apparently did a great job by solely ‘delivering bare facts’ in case of his brother.
183 Hatzaki, 2009, p. 25-27.
The Birth of the Emperor’s Twins
The last story that will be addressed to show Anna’s use of textual and
narrative construction for the purposes of criticising her brother is the
account of the birth of John II’s children. This short account appears quite
suddenly in the narrative and at first it seems to bear no significant meaning.
However, if we consider the meagre amount of John’s presence in the history
of Alexios’ reign, then this information appears to be of prime importance:
Whilst he was journeying to Thessalonica, the first son of the prince

(basileus) John Porphyrogenitus was born at Balabista and a little girl
was born at the same time.184
This sole information on the birth of John’s twins raises many questions,
such as: Why were his children born outside the capital and the purple
room? Was it dangerous for his wife, Eirene Piroshka to stay alone in the
capital? Why does Anna choose to mention this occurrence so important
for the dynasty in such a restrained manner? The most important question
for us is the third question that could also provide potential answers for
the first two.
The starting point for our argument is the fact that Anna does feel the
need to mention this event, even though she could have kept it in silence,
as she had done with almost all the events that concerned John Komnenos.
What seems as the authoress’ intentional criticism towards her brother
is the mention of the unflattering circumstance for the young emperor-
to-be that his firstborn son was born outside the capital, and, even more
importantly, that he was not purple-born.185 While Anna refers to John
as porphyrogennetos and basileus in this passage, apart from designating
his son as ‘first-born’ (prototokos), she does not add any of the expected
imperial epithets for his son. This is a rare mention of John as basileus. It is
interesting that she assigns this title to him precisely in the passage where
she speaks about his supposed successor, thus delivering another paradox
– the purple-born emperor did not beget a purple-born son. How could have
184 Alexias, 2001, XII 4,4 (42.44), p. 370:‘ἐν δὲ τῷ τὴν πρὸς Θεσσαλονίκην ἀνύειν ἐτέχθη ὁ πρωτότοκος
τῶν υἱῶν τοῦ πορφυρογεννήτου καὶ βασιλέως Ἰωάννου κατὰ τὴν Βαλαβίσταν συνεπαγόμενος ἐν τῷ
τίκτεσθαι καὶ ἕτερον θῆλυ’
185 All of his children were born before 1118, before John’s ascent to the throne. Nevertheless, all
of his children were praised as purple-born children. See, Stanković 2006, 94. In this respect, it is
rather curious but highly indicative that Anna precisely chose to mention that John’s first-born
son was born away from Constantinople and the Great Palace.
that political paradox happened? If someone is an emperor, then his son

should be born in the purple chamber, or at least in the Constantinopolitan
palace. Of course, for the members of the Komnenian oikos very soon that
was not mandatory to be called porphyrogennetoi, but Anna stressed in her
narrative in particular that purple-born children were only those born in
the Porphyra.
Apparently, it was of greatest importance for Anna Komnene to prevent
this disparaging circumstance about the birth of John’s successor from
falling into oblivion.186 In this way, her seemingly casual intrusion into the
text with the information on the birth of John’s twins emerges as a means
of mockery of John’s scions who were deprived of the right to be born in the
purple room of Constantinople, and, therefore, bereft of being immediately
predestined for the imperial throne as Anna was, according to her own
testimony and the circumstances of her birth, which were presented as a
paradigm of proper imperial birth.
And why is Alexios, son of John, who died in 1142, important for Anna
Komnene? Her scorn is directed towards Manuel, who was at that time the
ruling emperor. Why did she mention the firstborn son of John II, who was
already dead at the time when Anna was writing? There are two reasons
that seem plausible to me. First, he was prototokos, f irstborn, which is
clear reference to Anna Komnene herself, since she was the first child and
a purple-born. This also alludes to the criticism of John’s spouse Eirene
Piroshka, who was a foreigner and did not pertain to Constantinopolitan
aristocracy. Anna Komnene’s mother, in contrast to that, was not only a
member of the most highly esteemed family, but she was also a member
of the imperial dynasty that had ruled before. So, Eirene Doukaina could
not have given birth to a child anywhere except in the Porphyra. What
happened in the next generation is that the empress delivered a child outside
of Constantinople. That implied a notion that Piroshka did not pertain to
the Constantinopolitans, even after she married the basileus. Secondly,
Alexios was very important for John II Komnenos and the new dynastic
ideology that was being established during his reign.
186 Anna’s play with words and meanings is interesting especially when she defines the rule
and nature of a history. She stresses that she wrote the history of Alexios’ deeds to prevent
them from falling into oblivion. After thorough reassessment of Anna’s work it is clear that she
actually wrote her personal history about her imperial right to prevent it from being forgotten.
For a look behind history writing in the 12th-century Byzantium with special emphasis on
Nycephoros Bryennios and Anna Komnene, see Stanković 2006, 191-196; Stanković 2010, passim
and Stanković 2011, passim. On the importance of history for Anna Komnene see Vilimonović
2014, p. 22-36.
In a poem by Theodore Prodromos written for the occasion of John’s son

Alexios’ coronation we read the following lines:
Sun and the one beside the sun, two dazzling heavenly lights,
Father and son the emperors, offspring of the Porphyra.187
In these two lines, crucial discursive markers of the ascending imperial

ideology come to the fore – the connection between the father and the son
as the ruling emperors and the fact that they both come from the purple
– βλαστήματα πορφύρας. This song was composed in 1122. It was only four
years after the death of Emperor Alexios when John’s commitment to the
establishment of his dynasty started to be propagated in the court. The
importance of the porphyra for the Komnenians has already been stressed.
It was part of the new imperial vocabulary register that was used by the
court poets to assert the legitimacy and preponderance of this family branch.
Anna’s blatant reference about Alexios’ birth somewhere in Macedonia is
directed against the main pillars of John’s imperial ideology. The importance
of John’s firstborn son Alexios was eclipsed by his youngest son Manuel, who
actually became the sole emperor. Yet, it is important to stress that ‘young’
Alexios was considered as an emperor-to-be for 36 years, which is half of
Anna Komnene’s life, as the third in the Komnenian line of succession. In
the year of ‘young’ Alexios death, Anna was in her sixties. Furthermore,
Alexios was John’s chosen successor, which was confirmed in the most
solid and most distinct imperial imagery in a mosaic in Hagia Sophia. He
is depicted next to his parents, as the one who will succeed his father and
emperor. This was a crucial turning point in the Komnenian epoch, since
it granted precedence to John Komnenos’ branch and it was certified in
the supreme imperial endowment. After his death, Alexios was buried in
the newly built Monastery of Christ Pantokrator, from which exclusively
Komnenian dynastic ideology was emanated and promulgated. A burial
chapel ordained solely for the members of John Komnenos’ male blood line,
received Alexios as John’s co-emperor, whose right to succeed his father
was undisputed and once more solidly confirmed after his burial in the
heroon.188 To conclude, the mention of Alexios’ birth, instead of Manuel’s,
could have been the crucial chronological marker for the composition of
187 ‘ἥλιε καὶ παρήλιε, δύο λαμπροὶ φωστῆρες,

πατὴρ καὶ τέκνον βασιλεῖς, βλαστήματα πορφύρας’.
Theodore Prodromos, Historische Gedichte, p. 177 (6.7).
188 For the ideological importance of heroon see Stanković, 2006, p. 280-282, 287-288.
those parts of the Alexiad. These particular passages from Book XII could
have been written before Alexios’ death in 1142, which corresponds with
the timeframe of the Alexiad, which would make Anna’s message even
more politically precarious.
Anna’s way of entitling her brother, whom she deliberately avoided to
designate as basileus in her history, is also very indicative. In the passage she
used precisely this term, as it contributed even more to Anna’s subversive
intention to mock her brother and to the fact that his first-born son was
not a purple-born, therefore, that he was not a Constantinopolitan.189 It is
interesting that Anna did not mention the birth of the rest of John’s children,
who were born in Constantinople. The intention here seems to be only for
contemptuous purposes. The argument about the derogatory meaning
behind this story can be supported with a look upon the following text,
where Anna describes the incident that occurred in Constantinople, when
Alexios (and probably John with him) returned to the capital:
In the centre of Constantine’s Forum there was a bronze statue, facing

the east and standing on a conspicuous column of porphyry, holding in
its right hand a sceptre and in its left a sphere made of bronze. It was said
to be a statue of Apollo, but the inhabitants of the city called it, I think,
Anthelios. The Great Emperor Constantine, father and lord of the city,
altered it to his own name: the monument was now called the Statue of
the Emperor Constantine, but its ancient and first title persisted, and
it was known by everybody as Anelios or Anthelios. South-west winds
blowing over a wide area from Affrica suddenly blew this statue off its
pedestal and hurled it to the ground, the sun was then in the sign of
Taurus. To most people this seemed no good omen, especially to those not
well-disposed to the emperor. The whispered in secret that this accident
portended his death.190
189 The rise of the Komnenian oikos started as soon as they became ‘Constantinopolitans’. The
relations with clients and kinship they made in the capital were crucial for their subsequent rise
and for the success of their establishment on the imperial throne. See Stanković 2006, p. 39-65.
190 Alexiad, p. 380; Alexias, XII 4,5 (46.60), p. 370: ‘γέγονε δὲ καί τι τοιοῦτον· περὶ τὰ μέσα τοῦ
Κωνσταντινίου Φόρου, χαλκοῦς τίς ἀνδριὰς ἵστατο καὶ πρὸς ἀνατολὰς ἀπέστραπτο ἐπὶ πορφυροῦ
κίονος περιόπτου, σκῆπτρον μὲν κατέχων τῇ δεξιᾷ, τῇ δὲ λαιᾷ σφαῖραν ἀπὸ χαλκοῦ κατασκευασθεῖσαν.
ἐλέγετο δ’ οὖν εἶναι οὗτος Ἀπόλλωνος ἀνδριάς, Ἀνθήλιον δέ, οἶμαι, οἱτῆς Κωνσταντίνου οἰκήτορες
αὐτὸν προσηγόρευον. ὃν ὁ μέγας ἐν βασιλεῦσι Κωνσταντῖνος ἐκεῖνος καὶ τῆς πόλεως καὶ πατὴρ καὶ
δεσπότης εἰς τὸ ἑαυτοῦ μετέθηκεν ὄνομα, Κωνσταντίνου αὐτοκράτορος ἀνδριάντα αὐτὸν προσειπών.
ἐπεκράτησε δὲ ἡ ἀρχῆθεν τεθεῖσα προσηγορία τῷ ἀνδριάντι καὶ ἤτοι Ἀνήλιος ἢ Ἀνθήλιος ὑπὸ πάντων
ἐλέγετο. τοῦτον τὸν ἀνδριάντα ἐξ αἰφνιδίου πνεύσαντες ἄνεμοι πλατύτατοι λίβες ἐκεῖθεν τὲ ὦσαν
καὶ εἰς γῆν ἔρριψαν, περὶ τὸν Ταῦρον τοῦ ἡλίου τότε ὁδεύοντος,ὅπερ οὐκ ἀγαθὸς οἰωνὸς τοῖς πλείοσιν
In this part of the text, the way Anna sequenced the events is of prime
importance: after the birth of John’s children, on their return to the capital,
a statue of Constantine the Great, the founder of the city, fell and broke. This
part of the narrative gives an impression of a bad omen that immediately
followed the birth of John’s twins. This way, Anna, ironically, provided a
story of birth with an important ‘miraculous’ event indispensable for every
basilikos logos. Her rhetorical mastery in this case shows clearly how she
used bad omen, instead of miraculous, not to favour John’s twins through
the form of basilikos logos, but to scorn them through the form of psogos.
For Anna herself, the birth of the emperor’s twins was indeed a bad omen.
In search of a lost hero
The story about Alexios’ war deeds and his reign is completely deprived of
the story about his eldest son and successor. John’s agency was only used
by the authoress to position and denote him as the anti-hero of the family
saga that was unfolding in the last chapters of the Alexiad. If the Alexiad
was the only source about Alexios’ reign, we would hardly grasp anything
about his son and heir John – where was he during his childhood and how
was the chosen successor, born and bred in purple, raised and nourished as
an emperor-to-be? What was his role during Alexios’ reign? Did he follow
him on his campaigns or was he based in Constantinople? Whom did he
marry and how many children did he have? We can deduce some answers
from the Alexiad to all these questions, but we cannot reconstruct a clear
picture of these intentionally blurred circumstances of John’s life.
The only important event where John Komnenos’ presence is asserted is
the Devol peace treaty. As I have noted above, it is the verbatim quotation of
a whole document wherefore we find that peculiar formula of a τριποθήτος
υἱος (‘thrice-beloved son’). John’s presence is limited to this text and, once
again, deprived of any agency in the surrounding events. The war with the
Normans, and its final ending which was sealed with this contract, is the
main narrative theme. We follow Alexios’ war campaigns against Robert
Guiscard and, later, against his son, defiant and arrogant Bohemond. This
story is the core narrative of Alexios’ war deeds. Its grand finale is the Devol
peace treaty. Nevertheless, in the events that preceded the resolution of
this huge conflict, we do not see John Komnenos in war campaigns or in
negotiations with Bohemond. He was twenty years old at that time. Alexios
ἔδοξε καὶ μᾶλλον ὁπόσοι μὴ καλῶς πρὸς τὸν αὐτοκράτορα εἶχον· ὑπεψιθύριζον γὰρ τὸν τοῦ βασιλέως
θάνατον τὸ συμβὰν προμηνύειν’.
was ‘just getting a beard’ when he was dispatched against rebel Roussel by
Emperor Michael VII. In 1107, John was already married and had children.
Above all, he was the emperor’s son, and crowned successor – Zonaras did
not refrain from calling him basileus.
Instead of John Komnenos, the meritorious young man whom we see
next to Alexios in the events preceding the Devol treaty is Anna Komnene’s
husband, Nikephoros Bryennios. According to Anna’s words, he was respon-
sible for the taming of Bohemond:
When Bohemond heard this, he left Alexios and withdrew to the tent sent
apart for him. He asked to see Nikephoros Bryennios, my Caesar, who had
been promoted to the rank of panhypersebastos. Nikephoros arrived and after
exerting all his powers of persuasion (and he was unrivalled in discourse
and public oratory) he convinced Bohemond that he should consent to most
of the emperor’s terms. Thereupon he took him by the hand and led him
into the imperial tent. On the next day, under oath and of his own free will,
because he considered it the best course, he accepted the terms in full.191
We do have a notion that John was present in the final operations against
Bohemond, yet Anna made an effort not to be direct in this regard: ‘A large
force made up of the best soldiers was put under his command, supplemented
by many servants of the porphyrogennetoi and my husband [*my Caesar],
who were glad of an opportunity to fight’.192
From this sentence it is clear that troops under the direct command of
the emperor’s sons and his son-in-law took part in the fight against Bohe-
mond. Nevertheless, precedence is given to Bryennios and his own in-law,
Marian Maurocatakalon, under whose command this whole operation
was conducted. Anna did not miss to stress that Maurocatakalon was the
husband of Bryennios’ sister, ‘a man of great courage, proved by many brave
honest deeds and much liked by Alexios’.193
As a literary substitute for John Komnenos, Nikephoros is introduced
at the beginning of Book VII. One should recall that Book VI contains the
191 Alexiad, p. 423-424; Alexias, XIII 11,2 (81.87), p. 413: ‘τοῦτο ὁ Βαϊμοῦντος ἀκούσας, ἐξελθὼν ἐπὶ
τῷ πρὸς τὴν ἀποτεταγμένην αὐτῷ ἀπιέναι σκηνήν, τὸν ἐμὸν καίσαρα Νικηφόρον τὸν Βρυέννιον, τῷ
τοῦ πανυπερσεβάστου τότε τετιμημένον ἀξιώματι, ἐζήτει θεάσασθαι. ὁ δὲ ἐξελθὼν καὶ πᾶσαν πειθὼ
λόγων κινήσας, ὁποῖος ἐκεῖνος ἐν δημηγορίαις καὶ διαλέξεσιν ἀπαράμιλλος, πείθει τὸν Βαϊμοῦντον τοῖς
πλείστοις συνθέσθαι τῶν παρὰ τοῦ βασιλέως ῥηθέντων. κρατήσας οὖν αὐτὸν τῆς χειρὸς εἰσάγει πρὸς
τὸν βασιλέα’.
192 Alexiad, p. 413; Alexias, XIII 7,1 (36.38).
crucial excurse on the birth of the three imperial children that ended with
Anna’s promise that she will supply her audience with the story of future
happenings in the life of the porphyrogennetoi. Yet, that promise was never
fulfilled. Instead of the young hero – Alexios’ son and heir, John – we become
familiar with a new male member of the Komnenian oikos, young Bryennios,
whose portrait encompasses the crucial rhetorical elements that denote
him as an eligible imperial successor:
Everything – strength, agility, physical charm, in fact all the good qualities
of mind and body – combined to glorify that man. In him Nature brought
to birth and God created a unique personality, outstanding among his
fellows; just as Homer sang the praises of Achilles among Achaeans, so
might one say that my Caesar excelled among all men who live beneath
the sun. He was a magnificent soldier, but by no means unmindful of
literature; he read all books and by closely studying every science derived
much wisdom from them, both ancient and modern. Later on he devoted
himself to writing and even dashed off a history which is of value and
deserves to be read.194
The Homeric vocabulary, typical of John’s court and poems composed in

his honour, is evoked in the story about the Crusaders’ and Romans’ clash
at the Constantinopolitan walls. The scene that recalls the siege of Troy and
battle between the Acheans and Troians is deployed for the description of
Bryennios’ heroic nature:
Many Kelts were slain, but few of the Romans on that day were wounded.
We will leave them and return to the Caesar, my lord. Having taken his
practiced bowmen, he set them on the towers and fired at the barbarians.
[…] They were all young, as skilled as Homer’s Teucer in archery. The
Caesar’s bow was truly worthy of Apollo. […] Like a second Herakles he
shot deadly arrows from deathless bows and hit the target at will. At other
times, when he took part in a shooting contest or in a battle, he never
missed his aim: at whatever part of a man’s body he shot, he invariably
and immediately inflicted a wound there. With such strength did he
bend his bow and so swiftly did he let loose his arrows that even Teucer
and the two Ajaxes were not his equal in archery.195

Even higher than the Homeric heroes, Bryennios is raised to the rank of
Herakles, which is a unifying discursive marker with Alexios.196 This peculiar
relation is a powerful synkrisis (comparison) between Alexios and his son-
in-law. In war, he was his ideal successor. When we recall these particular
passages, the forces that confronted Bohemond in these last operations were
under the command of Bryennios’ brother in law, himself and the emperor’s
sons. The conclusion of this narrative theme finishes with the laudation of
Bryennios’ rhetorical virtuosity and his ars persuadendi. All credits for the
Devol peace treaty, according to Anna, ultimately pertain to ‘her Caesar’,
and this was a statement of paramount importance.
Once more, we encounter Bryennios where we would expect to see John
Komnenos. As Alexios’ close associate, Bryennios is featured in the story
about Alexios’ dispute with the Manicheans197:’The emperor’s chief assistant
at all these interviews, however, was my husband, the Caesar Nikephoros,
whom he had trained in the study of the Sacred Books’.198
In this story, Nikephoros stands out as Alexios’ choice, which he decided to
train so that he could help him. Another crucial figure in this episode, which
corresponds more with the expected discourse of this story, is Eustratios,
the Bishop of Nicaea. He was the spiritual father of Emperor Alexios, but he
was prosecuted at the end of his reign. Angold delivers a thought-provoking
thesis that John Komnenos stood behind the process against Eustratios, as
he sought to secure the support of the church for himself.199
Bryennios’ place in this dispute seems like Anna’s intentional insertion.
It is utterly peculiar that Isaac Komnenos’ place was filled by Bryennios,
whereas John Komnenos was again excluded. Even though John might not
have had any role in this dispute, we can still only conclude that he did not
have any role at all. That is, Anna tended to make that picture of him. On
the other hand, we encounter Bryennios in the three crucial episodes – in
the conflict with the Crusaders, as a hero greater than Homer’s heroes, the
second Herakles, fighting against the invaders, but still respecting the holy
Thursday200; in the clash with Bohemond and the final negotiations with
him; and in the dispute with the Manicheans. His agency encompassed
both internal and external imperial policies. As Anna Komnene stressed
196 Alexias, I 9,6 (95.98).

197 Alexias, XIV 8,9, p. 457.
199 Angold, 1995, p. 73-75.
200 Anna stressed this in particular – that Bryennios did not want to attack the Latins on that
most sacred day, stating that the Romans did not wish to repeat the unholy act that happened
when Alexios attacked the Constantinopolitan walls precisely the same day, on Holy Thursday.
at the beginning in the introductory presentation of her husband, he was

competent in both war and learning, and these episodes precisely serve
to ascertain that, through the application of chreia praktike, Bryennios’
actions serve to denote him as the only eligible candidate for the imperial
throne. Anna also stressed this blatantly in her lament over her deceased
husband, naming him basileus. She refrained to ascribe this title to her
brother, whereas she did not hesitate to raise her husband to the imperial
pedestal next to her parents. Zonaras’ learned but treacherous Bryennios
who sided with Eirene Doukaina throughout Alexios’ reign has different
attire in Anna’s version – he sides with Alexios and is presented as his closest
associate. In the Alexiad, he is not featured as part of Eirene’s circle at all.
He is on the field, next to Alexios, and afterwards, next to John Komnenos.
His only connection with Eirene, according to Anna, is his history that was
written at her own wish. Yet, all other stories related to him in the Alexiad
present Bryennios as part of Alexios’ circle, and furthermore as a paradigm
of the imperial successor. No room was left for John Komnenos, whose
role and position in his father’s reign is almost completely erased from the
story of Alexios’ deeds. Precisely these rare mentions of John Komnenos
stress even more this intentional damnatio memoriae that was conducted
thorough the pen of his elder sister. Thirty-one years of his life are passed
into silence. By that time, he had underwent all the necessary preparations
to succeed his father to the throne and to continue his successful policies.
He was a married man with a son that would succeed him to the throne.
His great military efforts and successes in Asia Minor are just an outgrowth
of his nurture and personal capacity. The Komnenian dynasty was truly
established during his reign and fully asserted with the erection of its
crucial political endowment – the Monastery of Christ Pantokrator. John
II Komnenos’ achievements in strengthening the new dynasty cannot be
sufficiently highlighted. Somehow, we always jump directly from Alexios
I to Manuel I, leaving John in the shades of his father and his son. But that
is just the outcome of our reading of the Alexiad. Therefore, we should
reverse Anna’s narrative and read its absent narrative. The story about
John II Komnenos is actually embedded in the Alexiad, and Magdalino’s
thesis that Alexios’ successes where anachronically presented to counter
John’s successes only invigorates the idea that the Alexiad was written as
a counter-mirror to John. The story about John II Komnenos is an absent
narrative with a resounding silence. Anna’s revenge could not have been
stronger and more pervasive.
Conclusion
I, however, will use words, my weapon, not only toward right and left, but also to
the front as well as to the back. For neither the colour nor the form of discourse
is one; both are manifold and varied. The one who knows their mixtures and
compositions will show his discursive spectacles multiform to his lovers.
− Michael Psellos, Letter to caesar John Doukas1
The Alexiad of Anna Komnene presents undoubtedly a controversial liter-

ary work. It seems, however, that modern times have raised much more
controversies about Alexiad, than it was a case in her own times. Yet, even
more striking element of this ‘controversy’ is the fact that this exceptional
work of art was composed by a woman. Therefore, many problems derived
from this very notion – how could a woman compose such extensive and
demanding war narrative? Was Anna Komnene a power-hungry princess?
How could a woman foster any imperial ambitions when she had a brother
who was already selected to succeed his father?
A gender issue that is inevitable when it comes to the only women writer
in medieval history is necessary starting point. The Alexiad was indisputably
gendered narrative that shed light on women’s agency and brought forth
from the shadow women as characters and protagonists. I am certain that
the role of women in the Alexios’ reign, as presented in the Alexiad, was
certainly stressed and magnified due to its authoress gender, just as Psellos’
focalised characters of imperial advisors. However, it was not solely for the
reason of her gender, but for the reason of her political agenda. Because,
yes, women also have political agendas, but that does not necessarily make
them power-hungry. It is just a perfectly normal part of human nature that
makes one individual – male or female – interested in politics, no matter
what their gender expectations presupposes.
I consider Anna Komnene an exquisite intellectual, rhetor, philosopher
and politician. In the Alexiad she actually played like a philosopher and
persuaded like a rhetor. Her intellectual model was, above all, Aristotle,
but her discourse was shaped according to Homeric imagery. The history,
as a genre and narrative weapon against her political opponents she used
according to the pattern set in Michael Psellos’ works. What Anna did in
the Alexiad is both, astounding and common. She was part of a millennial
1 Letter 7, ed. Gautier, 134-36, transl. Papaioannou, 2012, p. 47-48.

tradition of history writing that had its established canons. We see her
in a roll of a ‘traditional historian’ when she delivers an exact program of
her history, the generic rules she will uphold, and the aims she will fulfil.
But, being a ‘traditional historian’ meant in Byzantium that one was also
a versatile rhetor, raised and intellectually developed through Hellenic
paideia, that cherished argumentation, persuasion and dialectic. Rhetorical
manuals for prose compositions were rudimentary elements of a written
style and they, together with Homer’s epic poems, gave to Byzantines the
basis for constructing a narrative. Advices of Aristotle, Menander Rhetor,
Hermogenes, Aphtonius, and all other teachers of rhetoric, suggested Ho-
meric poems as those that offered a plethora of possibilities for refining
ones written style and presenting the characters and events through the
stylish rhetoric of the ‘greatest rhetor of all times’.
The age of the Komnenoi was the time of ‘Psellos’ twelfth-century heirs’2,
among which Anna Komnene was probably his most perceptive reader. She
employed Psellos’ rhetorical syllogisms, paradoxes and irony as textual
modalities of her own history. Psellos’ influence is highest in Anna’s shaping
of the narrative, form of delivery and enthymematic argumentation, and
tendentious construction of a subversive subtext. On the story level, Anna
immersed in the dispute with her contemporary John Zonaras, on the most
sensitive political questions of her father’s reign. On the level of imagery,
aesthetics and discourse she crafted her narrative to suite Homeric frenzy of
the Komnenian warlike ethos, and to satisfy her astute political Aristotelism.
The glorious story of emperor’s deeds was also replete with political
allusions that were actually part of the alternative political discourse created
in the circle of the second most powerful aristocratic house of the late 11th
and early 12th century. Anna’s political program delivered a story about the
pre-eminence of the Doukai over the Komnenoi, which was a direct answer
to John II Komnenos political program shaped and professed in the political
verses of Theodore Prodromos. Rivalry between these two most prominent
aristocratic houses reached its peak in the time when the final union was
accomplished. The idea of the Doukai’s legal rule (ennomos arche) in relation
to the Komnenoi was deeply embedded in Anna’s narrative, and it is part
of the shared discourse between Chronographia, Material for History and
the Alexiad.
Anna’s political program was shaped in the circle of her mother, which
was, after all, not coincidentally the one who had commissioned the two
crucial histories of the Komnenian century. Nevertheless, Anna’s case could
2 Kaldellis, 2007, p. 225.

Conclusion 341
be considered as a case of divided loyalties. For her, connection with both

parents was essential. It was a story of her double legitimacy, in the same
way as John’s imperial roots were lauded in the early stages of his reign.
However, as his reign advanced, the motives of the discourse changed
significantly and to his patrogennos was given supremacy. His especial
relationship with Alexios was celebrated as portend of the rising dynasty.
After the establishment of the Pantrokrator as a symbolical testimonial
of the divine sanction given to John II Komnenos’ line – a new imperial
mausoleum and sepulchre of the Komnenoi – the last voices of disaffection
towards new system aroused. The most resounding voice was that of Anna
Komnene. She both spoke in the name of her mother, and her powerful
oikos, and in her own name, being, if not angry with, at least annoyed by
the arrogance of her mighty brother.
The copyists soothed some of Anna’s invidious darts against the Komnenoi
at the end of Manuel’s reign. Some, or even many of them, were understood
by her perceptive reader Choniates who crafted a picture of a power-hungry
envious princess coveting her brother’s throne. A sudden change of focus
that happened between Zonaras and Choniates, from Eirene to Anna, most
probably occured due to Choniates’ reading of the Alexiad. However, Choni-
ates was not annoyed by Anna’s gender. It seems that he was overwhelmed by
her boldness and rhetorical mastery. He presented Anna as he had imagined
her, after reading her text. Alexiad revealed more details about the family
rivalry than Zonaras was ever able to convey.
Even Anna’s contemporary George Tornikes, who had read Alexiad, dealt
with the motives he found most problematic in the Alexiad. He referred to
Anna’s relation with John II Komnenos and stated that they were not rivals.
Why there was a need to mention this issue at all in a funeral oration? Why
did not he comment on Anna as ‘not being rival to any of her siblings’? There
were so many of them. However, no, he did not do that because it was not
a matter of dispute. In the same way Prodromos developed an extensive
commentary on ‘brotherly love’ (philadelphia), between John and his rival
brother Isaac Komnenos, with the maxims from Cato about the importance
of sibling love,3 Tornikes developed the idea about the two emperors, male
and female one, John and Anna. He juxtaposed them, just as Anna did in
her work – she both emulated and confronted her brother, ‘because for
equals the noble and just consists in their taking turns, since this is equal
and alike, but for those that are equal to have an unequal share and those
that are alike an unlike share is contrary to nature, and nothing contrary

to nature is noble.’4 Anna sought to emphasise her equality to John II

Komnenos. The final equilibrium between them was achieved precisely
in Tornikes Funeral oration.
Tornikes and Choniates show clearly how Anna’s message was perceived
and understood among her contemporaries. One picture is mitigated, another
is exaggerated. Alexiad is between the two. Anna is also somewhere between
the great philosopher and astute politician. Her female protagonists reflect
her thoughts about her own role in the politics. Albeit being the male-
dominant sphere, politics was opened for the imperial women. Curiously, in
the Alexiad, the sphere of politics was presented as a sphere of the dominant
women. The models were there, and they could be easily emulated. There
was nothing wrong or gruesome in Anna’s manner. She was just Psellos’
successor, and one cannot blame her for that. One can only admire the
height she achieved to follow in his footsteps.
The greatest virtuosity of the ‘new Komnenian Homer’ lay in the con-
struction of the narrative that was supposed to be allegorised in order to
be understood. Alexiad was left for next generations of Hellenic paideia to
unravel the ‘truth’ and to deliver various readings of its multilayered entity.
It seems that a story of ‘good’ or ‘bad’ Anna and ‘good’ or ‘bad’ Alexios reflects
the millennial debate on the ‘good’ or ‘bad’ Achilles and ‘good’ or ‘bad’
Odysseus. It was always the question of context, occasion and, ultimately,
personal preference of the reader, into which category he will place two
of the Homer’s greatest heroes. Tzetzes disliked Odysseus, and praised
Achilles. Who can prove he was ‘wrong’? In the end, it was Anna who placed
herself in the role of the Homer and her father in the role of Odysseus, or
Herakles. It was Anna who was a describer and Alexios, as all others with
him, a described one. Anna was creator of her ‘own and personal history’.
However, do not blame Anna for that, ‘blame Homer for the hidden depths
of his ideas’. She was just incredibly good at constructing the allegory of
her personal ‘Iliad of woes’.
4 Aristotle, Politics, 7.1325b.

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Index
Abasgians 261 Anna’s Will 54-57, 60
Acheians (Achaeans) 86, 90-91, 150, 191,335 antibasileus 170
Achilles 37, 74, 82, 85-86, 88-89, 91, 93, 95, 98, Antioch 75, 79, 84, 108, 230, 290
100, 105, 133, 150, 190-191, 195, 328n182, 335, Antiochus 89
342 Antonios (John Doukas as a monk) 204, 208
Adrian Komnenos, brother of Alexios I 208, 216, Apollo 90, 332, 335
270, 290, 298-306 apostasia 76, 78, 166-173, 180-181, 185-186,
Adrian Komnenos, son of sebastocrator Isaac 193-195, 204, 217-218, 223, 266, 292, 304
Komnenos 126 Apostles 116
Aegisthus 147 Arcadius, Emperor 142
Aelia Gala Placidia 142 Ares 93, 95, 202, 327n181
Aeschines 182 Argives 144-145
Aeschylus 51 Argonauts 89
Agamemon 74, 85-86, 95, 144, 190-191 Aristotle 21, 23, 30-42, 44-45, 49, 57, 71, 106-107,
Agathias 29n20, 36n53, 38n65, 63 111-112, 116, 122, 143, 160, 270-271, 278, 287
Agelaos 92 Arius 116, 168
Ajax 73-74, 89-90, 105, 335 Artaxerxes 37
Alcmaeon 40 Asia Minor 79
Allegories of the Iliad (Tzetzes) 81-83, 86-87, Athena, goddess 91, 99, 102-103, 110, 117, 236
89n59, 93n71, 97n89, 97n90, 98n93, 99, Athens 147
145n6, 327n181 Atreides 74, 91
Alexander Cabasilas 89 Attaleiatea, Michael 164
Alexander the Great 43, 112-113 augousta 160, 172, 188, 193-194, 204, 214, 231, 238,
Alexiad 240, 245, 250, 254, 270, 287, 320-321
as answer to Zonaras 21-22, 65 autokratorissa 245
as auto-eulogy 48, 74, 119, 121-143 Avlona 86
as basilikos logos 26, 72, 103-121
as second Iliad 21, 81-103 Balabista 258, 329
as tragedy 21, 23, 39-40, 43, 74, 143-163, 263, Balkans 79, 109, 116n145, 208
316 Basil I, Emperor 28, 67, 269
Alexios I Komnenos, Emperor Basil II, Emperor 46, 183-184, 193, 309
as apostle 115-118 Basil, parakoimomenos 183-184, 186, 193
as Basil II 102-103, 309 Basil, ‘Heresiarch’ 116-117
as beloved father 130-134, 137-143 Basilakes, Nikephoros, rhetor 98, 108-109, 113,
as Constantine the Great 22, 26, 66, 79-80, 118, 126, 169n18
103, 114-119 Basilakios Nikephoros, Usurper 98-99, 156
as Herakles 88, 98-100, 102-103, 335-336, 342 basileia 76, 170, 222-224, 227, 297, 324
as Odysseus 22, 86, 88, 97 basileus 76, 255, 260, 297, 311-312, 329-330, 332,
as Tzmiskes 102-103 334, 337
illness 154-162 basilikos logos 26, 72, 79, 103, 106, 111, 113-114,
Alexios Komnenos, son of Anna Komnene 267 132-133, 169n18, 222, 225, 233, 324, 326, 333
Alexios, son of Emperor John II Komnenos 171, basilissa 238-240, 245, 278-279, 283-284
258, 329-333 Blachernae Palace 203
Anabasis (Xenophon) 105 Bodin 205, 207
andreia (ἀνδρεία) 109 Bogomils 111, 115-116
Andromache, 84 144, 316 Bohemond 84, 86-89, 94-95, 117, 131, 191, 202,
Andronikos I Komnenos, Emperor 237 208-209, 326n177, 333-334, 336
Andronikos Komnenos, brother of Anna Borilos 171, 191, 231, 287, 291
Komnene 149, 243, 268, 320 Boucoleon Palace 235
Andronikos, son of Anna Komnene 267 Branas, Nikolas 89
Anna Dalassene 21, 53, 109-110, 127, 163, 172, 181, Bryennios, Nikephoros 17, 47, 56, 65, 94, 96, 104,
184-185, 187, 190-192, 216, 229-230, 232, 235, 148, 150-151, 164-165, 174-177, 179, 183, 208,
238-240, 245, 247-250, 252, 255, 259, 266, 216, 228-231, 241-243, 255, 261, 265, 289, 292,
269, 271-290, 295-296 310, 320, 325, 330, 334-337
Anna Doukaina, sister of Eirene Doukaina 194 as second Herakles, 335-336
Bryennios, Nikephoros, Elder 168 dikaiosyne (δικαιοσύνη) 109, 111

Bryennius (Kelt) 114 Diomedes 89
Doukai oikos 19-20, 23, 45, 48, 67-69, 84, 103,
Caesar John Doukas 45, 48, 129, 165, 168, 172-173, 122-123, 125, 129, 132, 134-135, 138, 140, 142,
175, 177-195, 197, 203-204, 216, 218, 222, 163-270, 273, 280, 288, 292-293, 295, 297, 303,
232-233, 235, 245, 264, 268, 292-293, 295, 322-323, 340
303, 339 doulos 285-287
Calliope 108, 146 Dyrrachium 86, 89, 96, 168, 174, 198-199,
Cerberus 116-117 204-205, 210, 306
Chios 80
Choma 78 egregorsis (ἐγρήγορσις), 110, 158, 257
chreia logike 198, 210, 306 Egypt 112, 115
chreia praktike 197, 301, 306, 337 Eirene Doukaina 21, 45, 56-57, 66-69, 103,
Christ Pantepoptes, Monastery of 247, 280 110-111, 122-123, 130, 139, 142, 165, 173-174,
Christ Pantokrator, Monastery of 63, 113, 169, 186-188, 190-192, 196-197, 203, 212, 232-233,
264, 302, 308-309, 311-312, 331, 337 236-238, 240-268, 270-271, 278-279, 287-289,
Christ Philanthropos, Monastery of 278 295-296, 302-303, 310-312, 316-321, 324,
Chronographia (Psellos) 16, 43-48, 51-55, 57, 60, 326n177, 330, 337, 341
68, 72, 103, 155, 158, 170, 177, 183, 222, 225-227, Eirene Doukaina, daughter of Anna Komnene
259, 275, 284, 289, 295, 340 267
Cilicia 109 Eirene Piroshka, wife of John II 247, 258,
Constantine Dalassenos 202, 205n145, 206-207, 329-330
226 Eirene (iconodule), Empress 67
Constantine Doukas, son of Michael VII 134, Eirene-Bertha, wife of Emperor Manuel I 81
136, 140, 142, 146-148, 165-166, 172-173, 176- ekphrasis (ekphraseis) 105, 226, 233, 236-237,
177, 180, 186, 189, 210-227, 229, 233, 235-237, 247-248, 319, 321-322, 325
240-241, 251, 268, 323-327 Electra 143-145, 148, 159, 161, 164
Constantine IX Monomachos, Emperor 46, Encomium for His Mother (Psellos) 53-54, 57-60,
53n129, 154, 157-158, 183-184, 214, 226n215, 62, 72, 147
247n282, 275-276, 278n33, 285, 289 enkomion (enkomia) 22, 26, 37, 40-41, 57, 60,
Constantine Opus 89 61n155, 100, 103, 109, 114, 124, 273-274,
Constantine the Great 114-115, 118-119, 333 278-279, 310-311
Constantine VI 67 ennomos arche 169-170, 222, 266, 340
Constantine VII Porphyrogennetos 28 Eros 211
Constantine VIII, Emperor 154, 156, 236, 259, Erymanthian Boar 99
285 ethos
Constantine X Doukas, Emperor 45, 47, 134, of the character 44, 55, 155, 236, 272, 278,
135n50, 138, 163, 165, 170-173, 177, 179, 187, 315, 327, 340
214-216, 302-303 of the poem 93
Constantine, son of Anna Komnene 267 of the speaker 30, 41, 44, 315
Constantinople 76-77, 79, 86, 94, 96, 129, 163, Eudocia, wife of Theodosius II 142
174, 186, 195, 201, 215, 229, 235, 244, 251-252, Eudokia Makrembolitissa, Empress 215-216, 235
258, 264-265, 271-272, 282, 300, 305, 308-309, Eudokia, daughter of Constantine VIII 236
318, 329n185, 330, 332-333 Eudokia, sister of Anna Komnene 270, 320
Corfu 96 Eudoxia, wife of Emperor Arcadius 142
Crete 80, 210 Euripides and George of Pisidia (Psellos) 51
Crusaders 84, 94, 96, 157, 191, 335-336 Eurystheus 99
Cumans 202
Cupid 225 female voice 24, 67, 163-164, 231, 235
Cyprus 80, 210 feminist narratology 24, 163-164, 253
Fortune (Tyche) 96, 144-145, 278
Dalmatians 109, 118
Demetrios Poliorcetes 86 Gabrades 20
Demetrius, Martyr 117 Gaita, wife of Robert Guiscard 91
Demosthenes 48, 50-51, 61-62, 83, 108, 182 Garidas, Eustratios, Patriarch of Constantino-
despoina 127, 142, 193, 240, 245, 278-279, 284, ple 192-193, 201
286, 288 gender discourse 16, 18, 24, 63, 67-68, 71, 91, 143,
despotes 20, 66, 285, 287 164, 194, 231, 237, 253-254, 272, 274, 278, 281,
Devol Treaty 84, 336 339, 341
Index 355
George Palaiologos 90, 172-175, 181-182, 194-203, Italos, John 54, 114, 201, 249
211, 293, 300, 303
Germanos 171, 191, 231, 287, 291 Jacob (biblical) 55
Giants 99 Japheth (biblical) 72
Gilpractus 195 John Doukas, brother of Eirene Doukaina 141,
Girada Kilomba 163 172, 174-175, 203-211, 293
Glaukos 95 John Doukas, son of Anna Komnene 267
Glykas 186n80, 203, 245 John II Komnenos, Emperor 16, 18-19, 48, 51,
Golden Bull 127, 218, 273, 275, 278, 286-287, 295 67-68, 79, 84, 101, 103, 107-108, 113, 118-119,
Gorgias 25, 30 121, 123-126, 128, 130-135, 137-138, 141, 147,
Gottfried de Bouillon 174 149, 151-154, 156-160, 166-167, 169, 173, 212,
Gratian, Emperor 142 218-219, 221, 300, 306-337, 340-342
Great Palace 129-130, 159, 187, 245, 250, 258, 263, John Komnenos, brother of Isaac I 134, 163, 276
265, 316-317, 329n185 John Komnenos, son of sebastocrator Isaac
gynaikonitis 230, 250, 257, 275-276, 281, 289 Komnenos 205, 301, 303-306
John the Oxite, Patriarch of Antioch 22, 75-78,
Hades 80, 117 80, 112-113, 169
Hagia Sophia 131n39, 137, 218, 247, 323, 331
Ham (biblical) 59, 71-72, 74 kainotomia 270, 297
Hector 84, 89-91, 95, 105, 316, 328n182 kaisarissa 300
Hecabe 144, 316 Kastamon 79
Helen, daughter of Robert Guiscard 84-85, 94, Kastoria 114
149, 213-215 Katanankes 99
Helen, mother of Constantine the Great 80 Kelts 109, 259, 335
Helen of Troy 316 Kinnamos, John 128
Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius (Psellos) 51, 56 kleronomia 170-171, 173, 302n100
Hellenica (Xenophon) 105 Komnenian oikos 19-20, 45, 48, 67, 122-123, 125-
Hera 97 126, 132, 134, 138, 142, 163, 167, 171, 177, 184,
Heracleiad 39 186-187, 190, 193, 195, 210, 217, 235, 242-243,
Herakleias (George of Pisidia) 80 245-246, 263, 266, 269-339
Herakleios, Emperor 80 Kosmas, Patriarch of Constantinople 188, 192,
Herakles 88, 98-99, 99n98, 100-102, 110, 116-117, 288
335-336, 342 kouropalatissa 229, 276
Hermes 117
Hermogenes 50-52 Lament (threnos) 23, 74, 83-84, 92, 102, 121, 136,
Herodotus 25, 39, 105 143-147, 149-150, 161, 164, 215, 263, 337
Homer 23, 25, 39, 44, 50, 59, 63, 71, 80-83, 85, 87, Latins 95
92-93, 101-102, 108, 117, 136, 150, 195, 257 Lebounion 108, 201-202
Homeric imagery 23, 40, 81, 89, 91, 93, 96, 108 Leo Diogenes, son of Romanos IV 177, 199, 208,
Honorius, Emperor 142 216
Hungarians 108 Leo of Chalcedon 200-202, 249, 304
Leo the Deacon 74
Iliad (Homer) 23, 39, 81-84, 88-89, 91, 93-95, Libanius 30n22, 37, 83, 86, 98n92
97-98, 105, 144-145, 153, 190, 327n181 Libya 115
Iliad of Woes’ 161-162, 342 Life of Saint Cyril Phileotes 204
Iphigenia 144, 164 Lucian 25-26, 34, 37-38, 40-41, 43, 61, 74
Isaac I Komnenos, Emperor 47-48, 132, 134, 155,
158, 163, 167, 170-171, 230, 239, 258, 280-281, Mangana Palace 261
295 Manganeios Prodromos 100, 110
Isaac Komnenos, brother of Alexios I 126, 141, Manicheans 115, 257, 336
144, 172-173, 181, 186, 230, 241, 248-249, 270, Manuel I Komnenos, Emperor 16, 64-65, 69,
277, 286-287, 290-301, 303-307, 336 78-79, 81, 84, 100-101, 103-104, 107, 124, 128,
Isaac Komnenos, brother of Anna Komnene 68, 133, 136, 166-167, 242-243, 245, 260
138, 149, 151, 166, 251, 256, 270, 309-313, 317, Manuel Komnenos, brother of Alexios I 290
320, 341 Maria Komnene, daughter of Anna Komnene
isobasileus 126 267
Isocrates 49-51, 61 Maria Komnene, sister of Alexios I 299
Italikos, Michael 101n104, 133, 169n18, 243, 308, Maria Komnene, sister of Anna Komnene
310 130-131, 159, 268, 270, 282, 319-321, 324
Maria of Alania, 140, 146-147, 165, 172, 180, 185, Palamedes 86-87
187-190, 212, 217-223, 225, 227-241, 248, 266, pathos 22, 128, 136-137, 235, 263, 307
291-292, 295, 303, 320, 325-326 ‘Patroclus excuse’ 144, 187
Maria of Bulgaria, mother of Eirene Doukaina Patroclus 89, 91, 93
194-195, 201, 250 Paul, Apostle 112
Material for History (Bryennios) 17-18, 167-168, Pechenegs 79-80, 108, 118, 174, 199, 201, 208
170-171, 174-177, 179, 203, 228-231, 292, 340 Pentegoste 220
Maurokatakalon, Gregory 199 Peristhlaba 199
Maurokatakalon, Marian 334 Persia 102, 115
Maurokatakalon, Nikolaos 203 Persians 80, 109, 118-119
Maximus, Martyr 249 philadelphia 126
Meleager 40 Philippica (Theopompus) 105
Melissenos, Nikephoros 175, 196, 208, 299-301, Phillipopolis 174, 257
305 philometor 126-128, 133, 137, 140, 193, 285,
Menander Rhetor 103, 105-108, 111-112, 114-115, 287-288
132-133, 144, 151, 224 philomonachos 204, 276
Menelaos 74, 95, 213, 325 philopais 287
Mesopotamia 198 philopator 126, 128, 133, 137, 139-140
Michael Anemas 111 Phokas, Bardas 183
Michael Doukas, brother of Eirene Doukaina phronesis (φρόνησις) 109, 208, 210
141, 172, 203-211, 293 Plato 30, 35, 45, 49, 52, 57, 122
Michael Keroularios 50-51 Plutarch 25n5, 48, 52, 60, 121, 143-144, 310, 314
Michael Straboromanos 204, 207 Poetics (Aristotle) 21, 22n30, 37, 39, 143, 160n64
Michael V, Emperor 265 Politics (Aristotle) 66n181, 106, 111, 287, 313,
Michael VI, Emperor 171 342n4
Michael VII Doukas, Emperor 45-46, 50, 84-85, Polyclitus 247
134, 165, 176-177, 179, 185, 188-189, 191, 213-214, Porphyra 43, 73-74, 123-124, 129-130, 132-134, 138,
216, 220, 222, 229-230, 239, 290, 303, 326, 334 141, 145, 177, 321, 330-331
Mitylene 80, 206 porphyroblastos 133
Morobundos 180 porphyrogennesis 124-125, 176, 221, 223-224
Mousai 125, 127 porphyrogennetoi 125, 130, 132, 135, 139-140, 166,
Muses 108, 257 170, 176-177, 216-218, 241, 251, 263, 266, 269,
310, 319-320, 330, 334-335
Nicomachean Ethics (Aristotle) 38, 41-42, porphyrogennetos 110, 124-125, 165-166, 169n18,
107n118, 313n144 172-173, 186-187, 212, 215-216, 221, 223-224,
Nikephoritzes 45, 179 240, 258, 260, 269, 303, 329
Nikephoros Diogenes, son of Romanos IV 177, Poseidon 97
199, 208, 212, 216, 219-221, 227, 239, 241 Priam 87, 144
Nikephoros III Botaneiates 84-85, 171-172, 180, Prinkipo 191, 229
188, 191, 194, 196, 213, 216-217, 228, 230-231, Prior Analytics (Aristotle) 33
236, 239, 277, 291, 295, 326-327 progymnasmata 30n22, 31, 34, 37, 83n41, 86n54,
Nikephoros Komnenos, brother of Alexios I 270, 98, 105
290, 298 protosebastos 300, 302
Niobe 145, 153 protovestiaria 194, 250
Noah (biblical) 59, 71-72, 74 Psellos, Michael 16, 22, 35-36, 43-53, 58, 60-61,
Norman War 84, 92, 198, 212, 214 63, 72, 119, 123, 128, 145, 154-155, 158, 164, 170,
Normans 78-79, 84-86, 94-95, 121, 214-215 177, 180, 183-184, 186, 212, 222, 225-227, 236,
259-260, 264-265, 275-276, 284, 285n53, 289,
Odysseus 37n58, 74, 86-88, 95, 97-98, 117, 342 295, 296n81, 302n100, 339-340, 342
Odyssey (Homer) 39, 92, 117, 147 psogos 37, 77, 306, 314-319, 333
Oedipus 40 Pylades 145, 290-291
Orestes 40, 144-145, 147, 290-291
Orphanage 111 Ravenna 142
Orphanotrophos, John 183 Rhetoric (Aristotle) 30n26, 34n47, 35, 44n83, 47,
Orpheus 43, 108 49, 270-271, 307, 315, 316n156
rhetoric, art of persuasion 21-34
paideia 31, 81, 83, 340, 342 Robert Guiscard 78, 84-85, 89-91, 94, 96-97, 129,
paideia basilike 212, 213n173, 214n177, 222, 156, 158, 198, 212-213, 215, 258, 282-283
223n201, 225n206, 233n239, 241n233 Romanos III Argiros, Emperor 155
Index 357
Romanos IV Diogenes, Emperor 47n98, 101, Theophylact Simocatta 61

135n50, 163n4, 178, 199, 216, 226, 239, 241, 264 Thesiad 39
Rome 29, 80, 101, 118, 130, 132, 150 Thucydides 25-26, 50, 105
Roussel de Bailleul 156, 179, 189n58, 203, 291, 334 Thyestes 40
Timotheus 43
Saint Glykeria, Monastery of 63-64 Topics (Aristotle) 30, 32-33
Sarpedon 93 Tornikes, George 15n1, 136, 139, 212, 223,
Schisa 182, 195, 292 224n204, 227, 243, 312-313, 341-342
sebastocrator 277, 299-300, 303-305, 309 tragedy 40, 74, 143-145, 148, 153, 160-161
sebastos 230, 299-300 Trojan War 91, 98
Serbians 108 Troy 83, 85-87, 96
Serres 220 True Cross 80
Severus, Emperor 128 Tydeus 100
Shem (biblical) 72 Typhon 98
Skleros, Bardas 183 tyrannia 170, 172, 222
Skylitzes Continuatus 45-47, 164, 180n58, tyrannos 183
213n172, 216n182, 302n100 Tzachas 205-206, 210-211
Skylitzes, John 47n96 Tzetzes, John 23, 44, 81-83, 86-88, 97, 99-100, 136
Skythians 80, 109, 115, 118, 202, 208 Tzimiskes, John, Emperor 102, 115, 309
Socrates 30
Sophistical Refutations (Aristotle) 33 Valentinian II, Emperor 142
Sophocles 51, 73, 161 Varangian Guard 265
sophrosyne (σωφροσύνη) 109, 278 Virgin Kecharitomene 204, 266, 278, 302
St. Mary the Younger 73n6 Virgin Kosmosoteira, Monastery of 140
St. Thecla, church 280 Virgin Mary 99
Synopsis of Hermogenes (Psellos) 50 Virgin Pantanassa, Monastery of 63
Syria 108 Vukan 205
Tancred 202 Xenophon 105

Taronites 20, 299
Tatikios 89, 259 Zeus 91, 97, 99, 117
Teucer 89, 335 Zoe Doukaina, daughter of Constantine X 177,
Theodora, daughter of Constantine VIII 236 215-216
Theodora, sister of Anna Komnene 320 Zoe, Empress, daughter of Constantine VIII
Theodore Prodromos 79, 105, 118, 171, 216, 243, 225, 236, 245, 265
280, 309-313, 327n182, 331n187, 340-341 Zonaras, John 18, 20-22, 47, 63-69, 146, 149,
Theodosian dynasty 142 151-152, 157, 159, 164, 171-172, 186n80, 174,
Theodosius I, Emperor 142 203, 205n145, 210, 217, 230, 232-233, 237-238,
Theodosius II, Emperor 142 244-246, 251-252, 254-257, 259, 261-263, 265,
Theophylaktos of Ochrid, Archbishop 109, 147, 277, 284n52, 299n90, 307n115, 316-321, 334,
204, 212, 222, 224, 233 337, 340-341

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Structure and Features of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad

Central European Medieval Studies

Larisa Orlov Vilimonović

Amsterdam University Press

Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden

isbn 978 94 6298 038 9

© Larisa Orlov Vilimonović / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2019

Introduction: Behind the narrative poetics of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad 15

2 Image of the Ideal Ruler 71

3 Anna Komnene’s Periautologia 121

4 The Pain of Niobe and Cry of Electra 143

5 Doukai – Construction of an Alternative Political Discourse 163

6 Komnenian Philia 269

This book presents the conclusion of a seven-year project, which started

concluded her PhD project on Michael Psellos’ Chronographia, helped me

The Alexiad of Anna Komnene is a masterpiece of Byzantine historiography,

was perpetuated. In this changed environment, the first-born daughter

shown, the manuscripts of the Alexiad have undergone major interventions

8 see Leib 1958; Stanković, 2006.

published, and it gives us a grandiloquent reader’s experience of the Alexiad

26 Aristotle, Poetics, 1447a.

30 Aristotle, Poetics, 1453b.

rule. In another section, which I have dedicated to the analysis of Alexios’

32 Aristotle, Poetics, 1460a-b.

thinking of the time in which Anna’s message could be apprehended when

In almost all preambles of Graeco-Roman histories, historians regularly

7 Kambylis, 1975, p. 127-146.

the formulas we constantly encounter as crucial markers of the historical

within established traditions of decorum, convey to a ruler some of the

27 Kennedy, 1983, p. 24-25.

33 Aristotle, Topics, p. xiv.

41 Slomkowski, 1997, p. 25.

44 For example, Lilie, 2014, p. 163.

to support the central argument. This coincides with Aristotle’s idea –

Rhetoric is a counterpart of Dialectic; for both have to do with matters

49 Slomkowski, 1997, p. 36.

as Psellos’ intellectual successor. Anna had aptly introduced herself as the

always be double-checked, since comparison with the heroes always left

Contradictions in terms must be examined in the same way as an oppo-

57 Gibson, Libanius’ Progymnasmata, p. 221-229; 267-277.

61 Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 1.1.

φιλοσοφώτερον καὶ σπουδαιότερον ποίησις ἱστορίας ἐστίν: ἡ μὲν γὰρ ποίησις

As in the other arts of representation a single representation means a

The composition of these poems is as perfect as can be and each of them

67 Aristotle, Poetics, 1451b.

form of pleasure. It must be no such as we normally find in history, where

72 Aristotle, Poetics, 1459a.

ἄντικρυς, εἰ τι τῶν ἐκείνου θαυμάζοιμι.75 Eulogy, according to Lucian ‘may pos-

75 Alexias, Prol. 2,2 (30.31), p. 6.

‘πάλιν δ’ἐνταῦθα γενομένη παραιτοῦμαι τὴν μέμψιν ὁτι περιαυτολογοῦσα

Anna’s deliberations on the history and truth are essentially Aristotelian.

Anna’s definition of her writing brings us back to philosophical dimension

79 Alexiad, p. 478; Alexias, XV 3,4, p. 468.

He subjects his readers to a dialectic catechism, his thesis being the

In order to contextualise such a mixture of seemingly contradictory premises

81 Lucian, The Way to Write History, p. 119.

Discursive frame of the Alexiad

Probably the greatest intellectual of Byzantine millennial history, Michael

his contemporaries.96 Byzantine intellectuals and people who composed

96 John Skylitzes and Skylitzes Continuatus.

105 Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 9.

In this ‘mini-techne’ for the emperor, Psellos suggests a ‘redundancy of

111 Psellos, Synopsis of Hermogenes, p. 31.

Introduction: Behind the narrative poetics of Anna Komnene’s Alexiad 15

2 Image of the Ideal Ruler 71

3 Anna Komnene’s Periautologia 121

4 The Pain of Niobe and Cry of Electra 143

5 Doukai – Construction of an Alternative Political Discourse 163

6 Komnenian Philia 269