CHAPTER SEVEN
CHERCHEZ L’HOMME!

Byzantine men: a eunuch perspective

Shaun Tougher

Men dominate accounts of Byzantine history. As emperors, administrators, soldiers, clergy, monks, writers, traders, artisans and peasants they are inescapable. But when it comes to the subject of men as men, Byzantine men vanish. It is Byzantine women who bask in the attention of Byzantinists. In the first decade of the twenty-first century there have already appeared the general study of Connor and the edited volumes of Kalavrezou and Garland.¹ Empresses in particular have reason to feel appreciated: obviously the flavour of the late twentieth century, within a short period of time they were the subject of a string of monographs.² This striking instance is made all the more peculiar by the fact that the field does not even have the equivalent of Fergus Millar’s The Emperor in the Roman World.³ It seems that Byzantine studies is playing the usual game of catch up; the field of Classics and Ancient History, for instance, has already witnessed a series of volumes placing Roman men and masculinity under the microscope.⁴

This is not to say that Byzantine men have been totally ignored. Although the 1997 edited volume Women, Men and Eunuchs: Gender in Byzantium is primarily devoted to women there is one contribution on men, Charles Barber’s “Homo byzantinus?”⁵ The term homo byzantinus itself derives from Alexander Kazhdan’s attempt to place the ordinary Byzantine, the common man, to the fore.⁶ In his chapter Barber identifies the lack of study of men as men in Byzantine studies. He asserts that “The conceptualisation of men in Byzantium is not a developed area of study” and notes that the ODB does not even have an entry for Men. Barber declares that his purpose is “to raise the possibility of an investigation of masculinity in Byzantium.”⁷ He attempts to do this primarily by analysing two specific eleventh-century texts, one visual, one verbal: the famous image of the emperor in the Psalter of Basil II and the Precepts and Anecdotes of Kekaumenos, a work of advice from a father to his son. He declares that the image of the emperor “betrays the gendered discourse of power in Byzantium. [It] is exclusively masculine in its terms” (though he rather sidelines the role of the archangels Michael and Gabriel in the image). As for Kekaumenos, Barber argues that “he is fashioning a masculine model for his son,” and observes that he “both manipulates and is manipulated by a homocentric discourse that can express social negotiation only in terms of a competition between men.” Barber shows that Byzantine men did not necessarily live up to the masculine ideal, and hopes to have demonstrated that “a discussion of masculinities can supplement the research into the interplay of power and gender in Byzantium.”⁸

However, Byzantinists have been slow to follow Barber’s lead. Eight years later, in a chapter on gender in a guide to the field of Byzantine studies, Dion Smythe notes that “The questions raised first by Barber … have not as yet been taken much further,” and this despite the development of Men’s studies generally.⁹ Unsurprisingly Smythe himself has edited a volume entitled Byzantine Men.¹⁰ In 1999 he also published an article on same-sex desire, in which he pointedly took issue with Kazhdan’s definition of Byzantium’s average person. He comments:

Presenting the common attributes of the ordinary Byzantine Kazhdan writes, “No-one will deny that homo byzantinus, like people of all times, had two legs, needed food, married and raised children”. However, by two of his four criteria Kazhdan renders as “queer” monks, nuns, bishops and the childless.¹¹

One might also add eunuchs; while they can be counted under the category of childless, significantly they were not even allowed to marry in the first place. However, eunuchs might be more readily considered as queer anyway.

Intriguingly, eunuchs comprise the one group of Byzantine men who have received sustained attention. The significant place of eunuchs in Byzantine society has long been recognized; the barbed comments of Gibbon and Lecky spring readily to mind.¹² (The negative stereotypical view of Byzantium as an empire dominated by wicked women and evil eunuchs is infamous, but it is notable that it is the subjects of women and eunuchs that dominate research on Byzantine gender.) Given the role of eunuchs in Byzantine society as imperial servants and administrators, it is no surprise that their institutional history has been the subject of extensive treatment, such as the studies by Dunlap, Guilland and Hopkins.¹³ More recently, however, other aspects of eunuchs have caught the eye of Byzantinists, notably their wider roles and their gender identity.¹⁴ In particular, both Ringrose and I have published a series of articles and a monograph each on the subject, with Ringrose arguing that in the middle Byzantine period eunuchs were constructed positively as a third gender while I argue for a more fluid construction of eunuchs.¹⁵

Thus, as far as eunuchs are concerned, there has been significant recent work on gender identity in the field of Byzantine studies. In this chapter I do not intend to invent the wheel for Byzantine Men’s studies but rather, like Barber, to provide some stimulation towards much-needed further study. I will raise questions about men by focusing on the especial group of eunuchs. As Kuefler has observed, eunuchs are good to think with.¹⁶ What do their natures, roles and social relations tell us about other men? Can eunuchs even be considered as a group of men? Were there in fact many different categories of men? For the purposes of this chapter I will concentrate on three aspects which may be considered as core for male identity: body, career and family. I will focus mainly on the middle Byzantine period to prevent the analysis from becoming too disparate. I will not be concerned only with gender identity, but wish to explore also the social roles and relationships of men, and stress the variety of experience. One of the clear problems in studying men is the danger of generalization.

I begin with the body. How did the physical nature of eunuchs affect their status as men? One assumes that the majority of eunuchs in the Byzantine empire were males who had been castrated prior to puberty. It was only these individuals who would have the classic physical markers of the eunuch: foremost a high-pitched voice and beardlessness, but also increased proportions, as limbs were elongated since the ends of long bones did not close. Not all males were castrated prior to puberty, of course, and examples include those castrated as punishment (bishops convicted of pederasty under Justinian I) or to exclude them from imperial office (the sons of Michael I and Leo V).¹⁷ Nor were all eunuchs created purposely; we hear of cases where children’s genitals were damaged (the sixth-century general Solomon), and some were born eunuchs, whom we would now call intersex (for example, Gabriel, a distinguished monk in Palestine in the fifth century).¹⁸ Nevertheless, it is likely that most eunuchs would have been physically distinctive from other adult men, notably in their lack of a beard, which became de rigueur for Byzantine men from around the seventh century. It is telling that in his Kletorologion, Philotheos uses the term “bearded” to signify non-eunuch males who held titles and offices.¹⁹

How did a lack of facial hair affect the status of eunuchs as men? Byzantine writers may equate eunuchs with women because of their physical appearance. Monastic texts may warn of the danger of the presence in monasteries of eunuchs who have faces like women, such as the aforementioned Gabriel whom Sabas segregated from the other monks.²⁰ Leo Choirosphaktes, the distinguished intellectual and ambassador active during the reign of Leo VI (886–912), asserted that a eunuch was like a being born of two women.²¹ Notably the diplomat accuses the eunuch of having engaged in sexual improprieties during an embassy to Baghdad. Not only could eunuchs be perceived as a temptation to men because of their more feminine appearance, they could be likened to women in their nature also: as corrupt. However, bearded men could be thought effeminate too, and eunuchs could be praised for masculine qualities. The thirteenth-century historian George Akropolites deploys gender as part of his political agenda, characterizing Theodore II Laskaris as effeminate and contrasting him with his masculine hero Michael Palaiologos.²² And although he was castrated as a boy, Ignatios the Younger (twice patriarch in the ninth century) was praised by his hagiographer for his mastery of his passions and his courage.²³

In relation to beards, a thought-provoking article by Bjørnholt and James deals with gender identity in Byzantium, addressing in particular the depiction of eunuchs in art, especially in the Madrid Skylitzes, probably dating to the twelfth century and produced in Norman Sicily.²⁴ Bjørnholt and James observe that characters identified as eunuchs, such as Theodore Krateros, who unseated an Arab horseman during a joust in the hippodrome in Constantinople, and John the orphanotrophos, the infamous emperor-maker, are illustrated as having beards.²⁵ They suggest that a reason for this may be that the artist is attempting to demonstrate masculinity rather than physical reality: “a beard may be a definition of manliness, rather than a sign of ‘a man’.” Yet since they say that all men in the Madrid Skylitzes are shown with beards this assertion becomes problematic. Presumably not all the men depicted in the manuscript are manly. While a case for the manliness of Theodore Krateros can be made (a key point of the story is that a eunuch could confound expectations of unmanliness), why, for instance, should John the orphanotrophos be considered manly by the artist?²⁶ Further, as Bjørnholt and James themselves point out, in Byzantine art other male beings, namely angels and youthful male saints, can “bear indications of what we might see as feminine gender characteristics,” for example smooth faces. Thus a beard was not necessarily a method of demonstrating manliness. In the case of youthful male saints presumably the lack of a beard was meant to indicate that they were not fully adult. In addition, the iconography for these beardless male saints may have been established when beards had not yet become essential.²⁷

The case of the depiction of angels is particularly relevant to eunuchs, since these two types of being were often associated in Byzantine thought.²⁸ In dreams and visions angels were mistaken for eunuchs of the earthly court. On the face of it, the strength of the topos lies in the fact that angels and eunuchs fulfilled similar roles at the celestial and earthly courts.²⁹ They were the ever-present guardians of their master, and they were his special agents. Angels were the paradigms for eunuchs (or maybe vice versa). But the parallel goes deeper and relates to their physical nature. In his study of the representation of angels in Byzantine art, Peers characterizes angels as “a kind of third body – in nature somewhere between God and humanity, but with a nature not fully determinable.”³⁰ The relevance of these views to eunuchs, though not pursued by Peers, is obvious. This is not to say that angels (or eunuchs) necessarily lacked masculinity. This is particularly evident in depictions of the Archangel Michael as a warrior, in his role as chief general of the angels. Indeed in the depiction of Basil II in his Psalter Michael is shown handing the emperor his lance, an action described in the accompanying poem.³¹ It is also important to note, however, that angels could be models for other men, not just eunuchs. For instance, the monastic existence could be described as “the angelic life.”³² Further, non-eunuch administrators in the imperial service could be likened to angels.³³

It is clear, then, that when studying men the reading of the body can be more nuanced than one might imagine. The need for greater sensitivity to complexity is also required when it comes to the questions of careers and families. Regarding the former topic, it can be asked, what career options did eunuchs have in Byzantine society? In comparison to other men were they limited to specific functions, or could they in fact have more opportunities than other men? Did all men experience a variety of options? The key careers for eunuchs were, of course, at court. After all, imperial and royal courts have been the major reason for the existence of eunuchs throughout history. As Hopkins has emphasized, it was the assignment of eunuchs to the position of chamberlain (cubicularius) in the later Roman empire that cemented their position in the imperial system.³⁴ Eunuchs are often thought of in the specific role of body servants of rulers (and other members of the elite) but in reality they could fulfil a range of functions in the service of the court. For instance, they could be treasurers and commanders, undertake special missions and operate beyond the confines of the court. The most famous eunuch general is Narses, who in the sixth century defeated the Ostrogoths and became governor of Italy.³⁵ Narses, who had also been treasurer (sacellarius) and grand chamberlain (praepositus sacri cubiculi), is just the most notable of many to hold military office.³⁶ Ringrose has declared that neither Prokopios nor Agathias “attributes his success to traditional courageous manliness” and that they emphasize his intelligence and skill instead,³⁷ but Agathias does indeed praise Narses for his courage (andreia),³⁸ and it is striking that both Prokopios and Agathias laud his dynamism (drasterios),³⁹ especially since this was attributed to prominent eunuchs in the middle period but also to other men, such as that famed commander (and future emperor) Nikephoros Phokas.⁴⁰

The diversity of positions available to eunuchs in the imperial service is made clear by Philotheos, who lists the eunuch-only jobs (as well as titles), but then reveals that eunuchs could also fill all the other posts available to the bearded (with some exceptions, noted below).⁴¹ For this reason, eunuchs had greater opportunities for power. Yet the danger of seeing eunuchs just as agents of the imperial court must be recognized. In her argument that eunuchs were acculturated to a positive third gender identity in Byzantium, Ringrose utilizes the argument that their dress was distinct from the dress of other men.⁴² Philotheos does indicate that the costume of eunuch patrikioi and protospatharioi had more elaborate decoration than that of their bearded counterparts,⁴³ but this does not necessarily mean that eunuchs formed a third gender; Philotheos is clear that the language of dress was generally vital for identifying titles, both eunuch and bearded.⁴⁴ But even if one accepts Ringrose’s argument – and interestingly she raises the possibility that there were in fact more than three genders in Byzantine society: what gender, for instance, did the religious constitute, with their distinct forms of dress and behaviour? – the important point is that it is only relevant to court eunuchs; it does not apply to all eunuchs in Byzantine society. Like other men, eunuchs had other options available to them: they are found, for instance, as clerics, monks, singers, teachers and doctors.

Conversely, one also has to recognize that there were limitations on the positions eunuchs could fill. As noted above, Philotheos asserted that eunuchs were not able to hold the positions of eparch (city prefect of Constantinople), quaestor (judge and legislator) and the varied types of domestikos (senior military officer). Why eunuchs should be excluded from these posts is elusive. Bury suggested that it was because these posts were ones with “ancient associations and prestige”;⁴⁵ Guilland proffered that it was a matter of protocol;⁴⁶ Ringrose argues that as the eparch was “father of the city” it was an inappropriate office for a eunuch, but nevertheless notes that in the seventh century the eunuch Gregory did hold the post.⁴⁷ Moreover, these restrictions did not necessarily persist, for in the eleventh century there are several instances of eunuchs becoming domestikoi of the scholai.⁴⁸ It should also be noted that sometimes non-eunuchs themselves could fill positions that were meant to be reserved for eunuchs. The most famous case is that of Basil the Macedonian, who in the ninth century became the parakoimomenos of Michael III. Interestingly, this can help elucidate the exact nature of the relationship between Michael and Basil.⁴⁹

It is notorious that eunuchs were also ineligible for the position of emperor, as Psellos declares in relation to Basil Lekapenos, the bastard son of Romanos I Lekapenos (920–44).⁵⁰ This is a reason often given for rulers trusting eunuchs: they did not have to fear being replaced by them and so could trust them implicitly. However, eunuchs were quite capable of plotting on behalf of others, and Staurakios is alleged to have considered making himself emperor.⁵¹ It is interesting to consider why eunuchs were deemed inappropriate to be emperors. One might imagine that it was associated with the question of masculinity, but, as we have seen, eunuchs could possess this virtue, and could be accepted as active military leaders.⁵² Perhaps it was connected to the expectation that emperors should establish dynasties and produce male heirs, preferably sons. Since eunuchs were unable to father children this would rule them out, and in this regard it is significant that monks and clerics, who were ostensibly celibate, could not become emperors either. There may be other factors at play too, concerning for example the legal status of eunuchs. This deserves further exploration. Was an emperor meant to be physically undamaged? We return to the question of the body. Mutilation – not just castration, but blinding, tongue cutting and nose slitting – was deployed to exclude men from imperial power.⁵³ To bar the brothers of Leo IV they were initially made priests, but then tongue cutting as well as blinding was resorted to.⁵⁴ Yet mutilation was not necessarily efficacious, as is seen in the case of Justinian II, who returned to power in 705 despite the fact that when he had been overthrown in 695 both his nose and his tongue had been cut off.⁵⁵

At the other end of the social scale to the position of emperor, eunuchs are equally unlikely to be peasants. One cannot be sure given the absence of evidence, but it seems probable that most eunuchs (either deliberate, accidental or by birth) were sent to Constantinople by their families for a potentially lucrative court career or ecclesiastical career, given the special status eunuchs could enjoy in church contexts. Equally it would be surprising to find eunuchs among the rank and file of the Byzantine army; they might have commanded armies, but this role tended to result from having served the emperor in different capacities at court already, as seen in the case of Narses.

In terms of careers for men, then, eunuchs demonstrate a greater range than one might expect, but also with some particular limitations. To a degree this reflects the fact that eunuchs were a special group of men in society, who could experience great social mobility. But the same could be said for other men, who came into the orbit of the court, or distinguished themselves as effective clergy or impressive monks. Such men could also have had certain limitations placed upon their careers. Further, it can be imagined that since most men in the empire would have been peasants they would have experienced few vocational options.

Finally we turn to the question of family. Kazhdan identified marriage and parenthood, the fundamentals of family life, as essential concerns for most Byzantines. But what was the eunuch experience of family? How different was it to the experience of other men? Is this a key factor in isolating them from non-eunuch men? As has already been indicated, eunuchs were not allowed to marry. In his law on the matter Leo VI asserted that this was because the purpose of marriage was to have children.⁵⁶ But, as Smythe has indicated, other men did not necessarily marry either. One thinks of monks, although men might have married before entering monasteries. One also thinks of the high clergy; it was preferred that they were not married. It was possible for other men to remain unmarried. The most infamous (and unusual) case is that of the emperor Basil II (976–1025), which has puzzled Byzantinists, given the dynastic impulse of most rulers. Tellingly, Basil’s resistance to marriage has raised questions about his sexuality, but it is possible that he had other reasons for his choice.⁵⁷ Indeed, perhaps “choice” is the key word here. Most men could choose to marry, but eunuchs could not. And yet can we be sure that some eunuchs did not marry, even if it meant breaking the law? It is interesting that Leo VI felt the need to legislate on the matter; was his law elicited by eunuchs seeking the right to marry, or even by cases of actual marriage? It is known that in other societies eunuchs could marry (e.g. in China) and married despite laws against it (e.g. the castrati).⁵⁸ One of the odd features of Claudian’s invectives on Eutropius, the grand chamberlain of Arcadius (395–408), is that he refers to an individual whom he calls the wife (as well as sister) of the eunuch.⁵⁹

Connected with the question of marriage is the issue of parenthood. Eunuchs were unable to have children, which might be assumed to have affected their status as men, but it is clear that married couples could be childless too (like Justinian I and Theodora), as is recognized by Leo VI. Being unmarried did not prevent single men from having children, but there were non-eunuch single men who did not have children, such as certain clergy, monks and Basil II. Moreover, while biological paternity was neither sought nor experienced by all men in Byzantine society, there were other means of establishing paternal relationships. Although Leo VI would not allow eunuchs to marry he was sympathetic enough to their plight to allow them to adopt.⁶⁰ Certainly Nikephoros Bryennios records that in the latter half of the eleventh century the eunuch John the protovestiarios declared his intention to adopt the adult George Palaiologos.⁶¹ Other cases of eunuchs utilizing fictive kinship (such as godparenthood and fostering) to form social bonds are recorded.⁶² Like other men, eunuchs were alert to the value of creating such social bonds. Relationships established in religious contexts could also provide the opportunity for eunuchs, just as for other men, to draw on familial exemplars: clerics and monks could be “fathers,” “sons,” “brothers,” “uncles” and “nephews.” One must not forget also that since eunuchs could be from native Byzantine families the opportunity for strong relations with family members was a possibility: the extended family of John the orphanotrophos comes to mind.⁶³ In addition, the marriage of siblings allowed for the extension of family relationships: one thinks of the sister of Constantine the Paphlagonian marrying Leo Phokas.⁶⁴ However, the relationship between eunuch uncles and their nephews would be particularly interesting to study further: this was the closest eunuchs got to having biological sons. Equally, the attitude of other men (both secular and religious) to such relationships deserves to be explored too.⁶⁵ In regards to family, then, on the face of it eunuchs look like a very distinct group of men, but once again there is room for nuance. Further, the relationships experienced by eunuchs raise questions about the relationships experienced by other men too.

In this chapter, I have highlighted the dearth of studies of men as men by Byzantinists. I have attempted to illuminate the subject by focusing on a distinct group of men who have received sustained attention, and also by restricting the analysis to three key areas: body, career and family. In exploring these areas in relation to eunuchs questions also arose about men more generally. Eunuchs can appear to be a very peculiar type of man, whose body, careers and experience of family marked them out as different and distinct from other men. However, while they do have their especial qualities, they can share qualities and experiences with other men. More fundamentally, they highlight the varieties that could exist in the experience of Byzantine men, and underline the need to be alert to the danger of generalization. Above all, eunuchs remind us of the need to study men as men. Only by devoting to men the same attention that has been lavished on women will we be able to appreciate fully the nature of Byzantine society. In fact it is vital that the sexes are not studied in isolation; the comparison with the experience of women can be instructive. Unlike women, eunuchs could hold political office, lead armies, have ecclesiastical careers, and be teachers and doctors (though women could attain imperial status). Considered in this light, there can be no doubt that in Byzantine society eunuchs were counted among men.

NOTES

1 Connor 2004; Kalavrezou 2003; Garland 2006a.

2 Garland 1999; Hill 1999; Herrin 2001; James 2001.

3 Millar 1992 [1977]. See, however, Dagron 2003a.

4 E.g. Gleason 1995; Foxhall and Salmon 1998; Williams 1999; Gunderson 2000; Kuefler 2001; McDonnell 2006. Note also the important work of medievalists on men and masculinity: Wilfong 2007: 312–13.

5 Barber 1997.

6 Kazhdan and Constable 1982. Kazhdan’s definition has become something to kick against, or at least bounce off: Barber 1997, 185–6, highlights its inadequacy, and see also Smythe 1999: 140; Bjørnholt and James 2007: 51–2.

7 Barber 1997: 186.

8 Barber 1997: 195.

9 Smythe 2005: 164. See also the comments of Wilfong 2007, esp. 312–13 and 321–2. On gender and masculinity see also Vinson 1998: 485–515.

10 Smythe forthcoming.

11 Smythe 1999: 140.

12 See Tougher 2008: 4 and 14–15.

13 Dunlap 1924; Guilland 1943, 1944 and especially 1967, vol. 1: 165–380, which collects his studies; Hopkins 1963 and 1978: 172–96.

14 See especially Sidéris 2000, 2001, 2002 and 2003. See also Gaul 2002 on eunuchs of the late Byzantine period, Moran 2002 on eunuchs as singers and Mullett 2002 on Theophylact of Ochrid’s In Defence of Eunuchs. See now also Holman 2008 on Meletius the monk’s views on the gender identity of eunuchs.

15 Ringrose 1994, 1996, 1999, 2003a and 2003b; Tougher 1997a, 1999a, 1999b, 2002b, 2004a, 2004b, 2005, 2006 and 2008.

16 Kuefler 2001: 14 and 36. See also my previous attempt: Tougher 1999b.

17 Tougher 1999b: 94 and 95.

18 Solomon: Prokopios, Wars 3.11.6, in Dewing 1990, 1916: 102; Gabriel: Tougher 2006: 240.

19 Oikonomides 1972: 135.9.

20 Tougher 2006: 239–40.

21 In Kolias 1939: 121–7, esp. 121.12–21.

22 Macrides 2007: 62.

23 Tougher 2004a: 101.

24 Bjørnholt and James 2007, esp. 53–5.

25 Bjørnholt and James also question the assumption that beardless adult males in Byzantine art can be read as eunuchs, but I would argue that their case is problematic, and I hope to discuss it elsewhere. Their article in fact demonstrates that depicting an adult male without a beard was highly significant. The real question that emerges from their article is, why in the Madrid Skylitzes specifically eunuchs are depicted with beards. On the depiction of “eunuchs” in art see also Dumitrescu 1987; Buckton and Hetherington 2006; and Tougher 2008: 112–15.

26 One might also ask then, why are masculine women not depicted with beards?

27 On the appearance of warrior saints see Walter 2003: 285–8.

28 E.g. Ringrose 2003a: 142–62.

29 See Woodfin in this volume.

30 Peers 2001: 109.

31 For the text of the poem see Ševenko 1962: 272 n. 92. See also the striking icon in the treasury of St Mark’s depicting Michael as a warrior surrounded by warrior saints: Walter 2003: 103 and plate 1.

32 E.g. Morris 1995: 32 and n. 4. She observes that “The concept of angelikos bios deserves its own study.”

33 Kelly 2004: 232–8.

34 Hopkins 1963 and 1978: 172–96. See also Stevenson 1995, and Tougher 2008: 36–53.

35 E.g. Fauber 1990.

36 E.g. Ringrose 2003a: 131–41.

37 Ringrose 1994: 97.

38 Agathias 1.16.2, in Keydell 1967: 30.

39 Prokopios, Wars 6.13.16, in Dewing 1993, 1919: 402; Agathias 1.16.1, in Keydell 1967: 30.

40 As noted regarding Leo the Deacon’s depiction of Basil Lekapenos and Nikephoros Phokas: Talbot and Sullivan 2005: 70 n. 6 and 143 n. 8.

41 Oikonomides 1972: 135.9–10.

42 Ringrose 2003a: 80–1. On the issue of dress see also James and Tougher 2005.

43 See Oikonomides 1972: 93.12–14 (insignia of bearded protospatharios) and 127.18–22 (insignia of eunuch protospatharios).

44 Tougher 2008: 109–11.

45 Bury 1911: 74.

46 Guilland 1944: 186, and 1967, vol. 1: 198.

47 Ringrose 2003a: 183 and n. 77.

48 As Guilland 1944: 186, and 1967, vol. 1: 198, pointed out.

49 Some Byzantinists conjecture that Michael and Basil were lovers, and perhaps the close physical proximity suggested by the office of parakoimomenos supports this: e.g. Tougher 1999c: 157.

50 Psellos, Chronographia 1.3, in Renauld 1926: 3.

51 Theophanes, A.M. 6292, in Mango and Scott 1997: 652–3.

52 It is familiar that Byzantine empresses who ruled in their own right tended to rely on eunuchs as their generals (e.g. James 2001: 68, on the example of Eirene), though emperors also deployed eunuchs in this way.

53 E.g. Herrin 2000.

54 Theophanes, A.M. 6273, 6284 and 6291, in Mango and Scott 1997: 627, 643 and 651.

55 Theophanes, A.M. 6187, in Mango and Scott 1997: 515.

56 Leo VI, Novel 98, in Noailles and Dain 1944: 321–7.

57 E.g. a monastic vow: Arbagi 1975, and Holmes 2005: 45 n. 60. It is striking that marriages were not arranged for Basil’s nieces either while he was alive.

58 See Tougher 2008: 17 and 45–6.

59 See Long 1996: 133–4. The proposed marriage between Theoktistos and Theodora (or one of her daughters) also comes to mind: Guilland 1943: 220. If this story has any validity it need not mean that Theoktistos was not a eunuch.

60 Leo VI, Novel 26, in Noailles and Dain 1944: 101–5.

61 Bryennios 4.38, in Gautier 1975: 309.

62 See Tougher 2008: 46–7. On fictive kinship in Byzantium see Macrides 1999, studies I–III.

63 E.g. Tougher 2008: 65–6.

64 E.g. Tougher 2008: 66.

65 E.g. Bremmer 1983, which does discuss the relationship between a mother’s brother and her son.