ABSTRACT
One of Byzantium’s beĴer-known manuscript images is that of an author – Niketas Choniates according to the inscription – writing his lively history of the events leading to the sack of Constantinople by the Latins in 1204 and its uncertain aĞermath. Modelled on the standard Byzantine representation of an evangelist or scribe, Choniates is depicted in an idealized seĴing, possibly at Nicaea where he ended up aĞer 1207 with the remnant of the Byzantine imperial court. He is holding a stiff sheet on which he is writing. On the lectern in front of him lies another sheet, presumably a previous version of his history now being revised or a rough copy.1 This image of Choniates immediately evokes some key questions: What did he think he was doing as he put pen to paper? Who did he think he was writing for? How did he expect, or know, that his new words would be communicated to his audience? Did he produce his history in instalments over several months or years? How did his projected audience influence the shape and style of his work, how he wrote and what he wrote about? How large was his audience and what criteria influenced their response to his work? How can modern historians and readers know what audience he had in mind, anyway?
