[Authors and titles are listed at the end of the review]
A translation from the French original, this volume is one of the written outputs stemming from Mapping Ancient Polytheisms (MAP), an ERC funded project hosted by the University of Toulouse—Jean Jaures between 2017-2023.[1] The heart of this project is a database of ‘onomastic sequences’: the names, epithets, titles, and forms of address, by which the gods were invoked in a variety of written media, from coins to codices. If this weren’t impressive enough, the project’s scope in time (1000 BCE—400 CE) and linguistic range (Greek and Semitic languages) only add to the monumental scale of the achievement.
The collection of essays here are best understood as a creative engagement with this resource. The volume’s twelve chapters, Introduction, and Epilogue, are relatively brief, making no claims to being exhaustive studies of their chosen subjects. Corinne Bonnet’s engaging Introduction establishes the tone by considering Giuseppe Arcimboldo’s 1591 depiction of the Roman god Vertumnus. A composite representation, the head of a bearded male is comprised of various fruits and cereals. Arcimboldo’s specific selections—apples for cheeks, a pear for a nose—are analogous to the ‘onomastic sequences’ that the MAP database has made accessible. But it is in their specific arrangement that a ‘portrait’ of the god emerges from a few choice words (Zeus Euryopa) or even letters (YHWH). This, then, is the point of the volume: to develop ‘portraits’ of gods from the otherwise dry bones of ‘onomastic sequences’ to ‘shed light on the way in which (wo)men represented [gods] and how they tried to interact with them’ (p.4).
The idea of presenting a ‘portrait’ supposes a certain amount of creativity, as well as multiplicity: there can be more than one. This is in contrast to, for example, an ‘icon’ that might be replicated many times, but implies a maintenance of the representation from one iteration to the next. ‘Portrait’ here refers both to the products of academic practice—in an attempt not to fix ‘what is fluid’ (p.6)—and crucially, to forms of ancient behaviour. Bonnet suggests that ancient ‘onomastic sequences’, even if composed of ‘‘traditional’ elements, customs linked to a particular sanctuary, and prescriptions deriving from shared knowledge and know-how,’ were the product of an ‘individual agent who made the choices about how to address the god’ (p.9). This supposes a great deal more creativity and—importantly—concern for the gods in religious contexts than is sometimes granted.
Whilst certainly creative, is it innovative, too? Given that one of the more traditional approaches to the study of religion in the ancient world involves outlining the nature of gods, one can justifiably question its novelty. On related lines, we might wonder who the volume is for: specialists or general readers, and as such what it achieves methodologically, historically or otherwise, all questions to which we return below.
Bonnet’s ‘portrait’ of Homeric gods (Chapter 1) finds her on familiar ground.[2] After a brief discussion of the role names play within the Homeric texts—‘like beacons that illuminate the narrative path’ (p.17)—focus shifts to a specific description of Zeus Euryopa, ‘vast voice’ and ‘ample sight’. The complexity of names is beautifully captured by an example that in different contexts may emphasise particular qualities, as also with Athena Glaukopis, variously ‘owl / gleaming-eyed / blue-grey’. The discussion is provocative, but questions remain about how the complex meanings names evoke within the context of texts (and intertextually), relate to divine epithets used in cult.
Thomas Galoppin’s discussion of Selene based on the prayer to the Moon in the so-called ‘Greek Magical Papyri’ (Chapter 2) is a more focussed discussion of a (potential) ritual invocation. The discussion contains several interesting points, particularly the emphasis placed on communication as a constructive act (p.51-52). One question is how far we are discussing an ‘onomastic sequence’ as opposed to an extended and detailed construction of a goddess through a prayer. Is there a difference? The chapter takes the form of a commentary on a larger text containing a multitude of divine names and descriptors, hence the role of a specific ‘onomastic sequence’ is unclear.
Maria Bianco’s study of gods of ‘force’ in parts of Phoenician Cyprus (Chapter 3) starts as a situated discussion of a name in a cult context. The dedication to ‘Baal Oz’ in the so-called ‘trophy’ inscription of King Milkyaton from Kition, 392 BCE, emphasises an understanding of the god in relation to its community of worshippers. Attention then switches to scattered references to a variety of gods associated with ‘force’ (Baal, Resheph, Anat). The final reflection on the possible meaning of ‘Oz’ through onomastics helps to refine the word’s meaning. We are left with more of a nuanced definition of what ‘force’ might imply than a ‘portrait’ as such.
Sylvain Lebreton adopts a comparative approach, contrasting Dionysos, that most peculiar of ‘great gods’, with Poseidon (Chapter 4). Naming habits are addressed at large from Theban, ‘Dionysos Kadm(ei)os’, to the culturally ambiguous ‘Dionysos Akratophoros’, ‘Provider of unmixed wine’, concluding, ‘His role as interface between opposite poles is clearly recurrent in Dionysos’ onomastic system’ (p.82). Poseidon ‘Asphalios’, by contrast, is a god ‘who does not sway’. But is Dionysos the god of opposites in situ, or only at large? In myth, Dionysos certainly exists between extremes; an array of cult epithets viewed collectively may confirm this picture, but what relevance does this have in any particular context? To put it another way, does the onomastic map represent either the cultic or the culturally specific territory (a point touched on in Pierre Brulé’s contribution in Chapter 12)? These doubts aside, the chapter makes interesting observations about the relationship between poetic and cultic naming habits, work that the MAP database will make easier in future.
Aleksandra Kubiak-Schneider focuses on the title ‘mar ‘olam’, ‘Lord of the Universe/Eternity’ as used in Palmyra (Chapter 5), with the aim of determining what god is meant by this title. Making a firm division between Greek and Near Eastern conceptualisations of the divine, the discussion draws towards an appraisal of Baalshamin and Bel for want of evidence for ‘mar ‘olam’ beyond a limited corpus of inscriptions. Concluding, she notes ‘to propose a precise identification… is an arduous, perhaps even futile act’ (p.109). As with Bianco’s contribution (Chapter 3), we gain a deeper understanding of the title’s possible meanings, but whether this constitutes a ‘portrait’ is another matter.
Marinella Ceravolo’s chapter on Mesopotamian naming systems (Chapter 6) begins by thinking about how names that possessed both syllabic and ideographic potential in cuneiform could communicate complex notions of the gods. Focus then shifts to the importance of naming as an ontological device: to name is to make exist, to have many names is to possess great power. That the gods would not exist without acts of communication is a point raised in several chapters; what is especially interesting here, is the particular way this was understood in the broader Mesopotamian cultural context and consequences for how the gods were constructed.
More than any other, Laurent Bricault’s chapter on ‘Zeus Helios Great Serapis’ (Chapter 7) considers the potential of divine names for elucidating historical episodes. Starting from two temple dedications made between 117-119 CE in Egypt’s eastern desert, Bricault leads us through a plotted history of the name ‘Serapis’, its associations with Ptolemaic and Imperial power, degrees of Egyptian influence, and use in the wider Roman world. If there is a sense, or portrait, of the god here, it is one that emerges from an appraisal of its varied devotees.
Élodie Guillon takes us on a tour of the Mediterranean following Melqart, the god of Tyre (Chapter 8), providing at once a ‘big picture’ of recurring associations with the city’s island colonies, and a nuanced sense of the god in specific locations over time. Understanding Melqart as not only founder, but catalyst for Tyrian colonisation is an especially interesting observation (p.167-168). A minor point is with the treatment of Heracles in relation to Melqart, at times synonymous, at others distinct. Perhaps this is justified by the evidence, but it is not always clear why. Whatever the case, it is a quibble only.
‘Pantheus’ is the topic of Ginevra Benedetti’s paper (Chapter 9), a wide-ranging discussion of a troublesome title. The word’s difficulty stems from implications of totality despite the finite nature of the gods addressed: does it therefore imply monotheistic tendencies? Benedetti demonstrates well that the title is more of a superlative epithet than either that of a particular god, or a means of denying—through a form of totalising—the existence of others. As with Chapters 3 and 5, this is perhaps more epithet discussion than portrait.
Fabio Porzia turns to the importance of names for the conceptualisation of God in the Hebrew Bible (Chapter 10). Beginning with the emphasis placed on their meaning (p.191-196), the chapter traces the development of divine names leading to the unpronounceable YHWH, to demonstrate the ‘onomastic puzzle contained in the Hebrew Bible’ (p.205). There might have been room here for discussing instances of compound names, for example YHWH ṣebaoth (1 Sam. 1:3) or YHWH Elohim (Exod. 3:15, mentioned p.197, but not discussed). Nevertheless, this is a welcome survey of a much-studied topic, and clearly important for a collection such as this.
Apollo chrysokomas (‘golden haired’) is Adeline Grand-Clément’s topic (Chapter 11). A digression on modern perceptions of appearance, prefaces a discussion of the god’s association with the term, ultimately demonstrating that Apollo and family—Artemis and Leto—are the only gods to possess gold, as opposed to just blond hair. The conclusion (p.227-229) justifiably calls for caution on making Apollo always golden-haired, given polytheistic tendencies to diversify, but what then is at stake here? Above all, the chapter invites further comment on the relationship between cult and poetic imaginings of gods.
Pierre Brulé closes with the most data driven piece of the volume (Chapter 12), a comparison of epicleses (epithets) used with Artemis and Athena drawing on the Banque de Données sur les Épiclèses Grecques (BDEG), a product of one of MAP’s forebears hosted by the Université de Rennes. What emerges are ‘landscape’ (p.233) representations of the gods that soften, rather than suppress local iterations of these goddesses in favour of overarching characterisations drawn from texts, especially poetic. Artemis, otherwise known as ‘tamer of animals’, emerges in local contexts rather as violent, often characterised by her body, and frequently identified through toponymics. The data requires further work: spatial and temporal patterns could not be discussed (p.234). Nevertheless, there is more than enough to demonstrate the approach is worth pursuing.
The book has the feeling of an academic workshop, and questions raised above are offered in this vein. The sense of trust between contributors suffused through the volume is engaging, and it will certainly make the book more palatable to the general reader. But it does mean it is less of a scholarly resource. The decision not to provide original languages might be justified by the database behind this work, but in that case, clearer referencing would be useful. Contributions tend to gesticulate toward knowledge without precision; almost all the chapters reference both evidence and broader discussions of the topics only vaguely. For specialists there is still much to gain: a range of challenges dealt with through varied examples and forms of evidence. The contributions demonstrate possibilities of engaging with the MAP database, which is precisely the point. It is not a scholarly resource so much as a collective intellectual exercise.
Most chapters are what we might call modern god-studies: flexible, open to a variety of evidence, expecting change rather than attempting to establish consistency.[3] The notion of a ‘portrait’ captures this well. But with the translation into English comes the need to communicate not only methods, but the point of all this to a readership that is not necessarily primed to care. Studies of gods are part of French scholarship on religion in a way that they aren’t in Anglophone spheres.[4] The question is, what does all this have to do with ‘religion’? Though poetic and cultic contexts are sometimes noted (though not always), the implications are rarely dealt with. Brulé addresses the contrast between poetic and localised cult epithets (p.261-262) as discussed above; But he expresses a degree of surprise that is itself surprising: can it really be a shock that conceptions of gods in poetry and local cults are so different? His shock is perhaps more that of one confronting a painful truth: that these varied sources cannot be made to ‘work’ together; that there is no singular deity to convey.
This has prompted the abandonment of god-studies in other scholarly traditions as something that is not especially significant for understanding ‘religion’. In what contexts—and to whom—are our (always) partial reconstructions of deities relevant? Now appearing in English, the contributions in this volume are exposed more openly to this form of critique. Yet as interested as readers may be in a response to this type of question, it is not for a volume such as this to get bogged down in theoretical and methodological issues; one of its achievements is in the lightness with which a range of evidence is addressed. Readers should appreciate that the volume’s particular focus on constructs of gods is just one means of studying forms of religious communication, the justification for which may be judged from the strength of its contributions. It is a fitting advertisement for the MAP database, and as such the contributors—and translator Ralph Häussler, who has done an excellent job of retaining the authors’ voices—should be proud of their achievement. If questions remain, it is perhaps because like a good workshop, you should leave with more of them than you arrived with.
Authors and Titles
Introduction: In the Mirror of Vertumnus – Corinne Bonnet
- ‘To the Immortals Everything Is Possible’: Portraits of Homeric Gods Between Savagery and Empathy – Corinne Bonnet
- All Sides of the Moon: A Greek Incantation from Late Antique Egypt – Thomas Galoppin
- ‘May the Force Be With You!’: Men and Gods in Battle in the Phoenician World – Maria Bianco
- Dionysos in the Mirror of Poseidon: Crossed Onomastic Portraits – Sylvain Lebreton
- Lord of the Universe, the World and Eternity: Gods with Unlimited Powers in Palmyra? – Aleksandra Kubiak-Schneider
- This Is Not a Name: The Polyvalence of Divine Names in Mesopotamia – Marinella Ceravolo
- The Sword and the Patera: Zeus Helios Great Sarapis – Laurent Bricault
- A Travelling Portrait: The Baal of Tyre, From One Rock to Another – Élodie Guillon
- Pantheus, a ‘Total’ God in the Greek and Roman World – Ginevra Benedetti
- ‘I Will Be Who I Will Be’ (Exod. 3:14): Portrait of a Deity that Would be Nameless and Imageless – Fabio Porzia
- Golden Locks Among the Greeks, or the Hair Secrets of the Beautiful Apollo – Adeline Grand-Clément
- Athena—Artemis: An Attempt to Outline Two Sisters by Their Epicleses – Pierre Brulé
Epilogue—Corinne Bonnet
Notes
[1] Originally published as C. Bonnet 2021, Noms de dieux. Portraits de divinités antiques (Toulouse). For a discussion of the project’s aims, see S. Lebreton & C. Bonnet 2019, ‘Mettre les polythéismes en formules? À propos de la base de données Mapping Ancient Polytheisms,’ Kernos 32, 267-296.
[2] Bonnet co-edited the first and third volumes of Les dieux d’Homère, and contributed to the second.
[3] See also the translation of Pirenne-Delforge & Pironti 2022, The Hera of Zeus: Intimate Enemy, Ultimate Spouse (Cambridge) as part of the same series.
[4] Important contributors in the last twenty years include Nicole Belayche, Sylvia Estienne, Vinciane Pirenne-Delforge and those represented in this volume, not least Corinne Bonnet and Laurent Bricault.