restricted access Graphic Signs of Identity, Faith, and Power in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages eds. by Ildar Garipzanov Caroline Goodson, and Henry Maguire (review)
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Reviewed by
Garipzanov, Ildar, Caroline Goodson, and Henry Maguire, eds, Graphic Signs of Identity, Faith, and Power in Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages ( Cursor Mundi, 27), Turnhout, Brepols, 2016; hardback; pp. xviii, 394; 141 b/w illustrations, 2 b/w tables; R.R.P. €110.00; ISBN 9782503567242.

This illuminating collection of essays surveys 'visual media in Late Antiquity and the early Middle Ages' (p. 5), from a variety of methodological angles and scholarly disciplines.

Larry Hurtado's opening chapter reconsiders second- and third-century Christians' fondness for allegory and symbol. Birthed within the pagan Roman cultural system, early Christian symbols, such as the chi-ro and iota-chi, were adopted and adapted from earlier pre-Christian usage. The author concludes that, by utilizing signs and emblems familiar to believers and non-believers, Christians could construct a community based on a unique, yet recognizable symbolic universe. [End Page 199]

The fourth-century poems by Optatian — composed during the reign of the first Christian Roman emperor Constantine (r. 306–337) — serve as a pivot for Chapter 2's look at the intimate connection between representational art and written texts. Optatian's fondness for chi-ro emblems offered a newly converted Empire a symbol with a range of cosmological representations — Christian and non-Christian. Constantine indeed wielded christograms primarily as representations of imperial and military power. Yet, foreshadowing a more devout Christian Roman world to come, the authors observe a shift in Optatian's later poems (according to some scholars, misattributed to Optatian) where the chi-ro functions to signify Christ's, rather than the emperor's, omnipotence.

Brent Brenk turns to the images found in the Notitia dignitatum, a unique late Roman document, which provides an invaluable outline of the early fifth-century Roman administrative system. While some bemoan the text's lack of focus on the individuals who operated within this organization, as Brenk explains, 'the document wanted to eternalize the institutions of the late Roman state, not its staff and servants' (p. 122).

In an early Christian world, where the barriers between heaven and earth were more porous than today, David Ganz demonstrates that texts were more than just human ideas recorded with ink on parchment. Indeed, letters, words, and colours could act for their devout readers as conduits to the spiritual realm.

James Crow turns his eye to the use of graphic signs on late Roman megastructures, such as walls, bridges, gates, and aqueducts. While the use of Christian symbols on this infrastructure broadcast triumphal imperial and Christian ideologies, some symbols were positioned in places of structural weakness well outside of human eyesight. Therefore, as in the case of Constantinople's main aqueduct, these hidden symbols of Christian power ensured 'divine protection to the city's vital lifeline' (p. 165).

Ine Jacobs stresses that we should not read cross 'graffiti', which adorns many pagan monuments and statues left over from late antiquity, as signs of Christian vandalism and intolerance, but as practical defensive devices. Feeling threatened by menacing spiritual forces, late antique Christians etched their symbols as protection against these pagan objects, which they believed were imbued with hostile spirits.

Following Jacobs's pathway, Henry Maguire explains that late antique designs and decorative patterns displayed on a wide range of objects, which to the modern eye seem to be merely ornamental, instead offered their ancient owners articles 'invested with supernatural powers' (p. 223).

Caroline Goodson narrows her focus to Christian symbols found on mass-produced oil lamps. While some specialized lamps were designed for use by Christian elites in ceremonies, the bulk of lamps adorned with christograms [End Page 200] were purchased by members of the regular population interested in being part of a wider pious community.

Christopher Eger scrutinizes objects bearing Christian symbols with more specific links to imperial power: amulets, clothing, swords, crossbows, and belts. Since these official badges of rank were worn by high-ranking members of the bureaucracy and military, one is not surprised to learn that they offered a reminder to their ancient audience that these individuals served under the auspices of divine and imperial authority. Yet, the author offers a caveat, concluding that competing symbols, without specific...


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