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the position of superiority in relation to a concept of superstition still framed as the worshipful fear of such demons. In the works of Eusebius of Caesarea (an admirer of Origen who lived during Constantine's conversion to Christianity) we witness the crucial role played by demonology in the articulation of an imperialist Christian theology that claims to supersede both Jewish particularism and pagan superstition. With this move, suggests Martin, Eusebius has "turned the tables" within the power-charged discourse of superstition. In his concluding chapter, Martin boldly links the rise and fall of the "grand optimal illusion"of which "superstition" is the abjected byproductwith the rise and fall of democratic polity. Ancient political philosophies advocating for a balance of power found such balance mirrored in nature: the physical universe, permeated by benign divinity, was, on this reading, the best of all possible worlds. By late antiquity, however, such confidence had eroded. Under the empire, power was experienced as ambivalent, as often evil as good. Even gods or daimones"demons"might act oppressively, and the best protection was a powerful patron, whether human or divine. Fear of demons was no longer deemed irrationalthat is, "superstitious" and divine power was construed not as "natural" but as "supernatural." Christianity did not bring about this change. Its success did, however, lie crucially in its capacity to respond to it. Each of the individual parts of the historical argument of this book is significant, yet its startling originality lies in the way that Martin has drawn the parts together into such a masterful whole. While some readers may not be persuaded by the close connections (or by the particular connections) that Martin makes between political ideologies and cosmological theories, everyone should find his closing speculations stimulatingnot least because of the resonant collusions of imperialism, demonology, and theology in our own context. Moreover, Martin's style leaves his readers room to draw their own conclusions. The tone is teacherly. (Perhaps appropriately for a study that spans so much history and thus several fields of scholarship, little specialized liiowledge is assumed.) The approach is closely textual. (Indeed, much of this book consists of helpful summaries of the contents of relevant ancient texts.) Some scholars will surely regret the modesty of annotations and engagement of scholarly literature that also characterizes other recent Harvard University Press publications. The potential payoff of this choice is, however, a sophisticated book that will prove inviting to a broader readership and will certainly lend itself well to classroom use. Virginia Burrus Drew University Sex and Salvation: Virginity as a Soteriological Paradigm in Ancient Christianity. By Roger Steven Evans. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2003. xvii + 188 pp. $30.00 paper. This book tackles a rich and complex question in early Christian studies: the role of virgiruty in the teachings and practice of the Church as it emerged in its Judao- and Greco-Roman matrix. The book's intended focus is upon early Christian belief in the potential of the virginal/chaste body to offer salvation, on the one hand to the person practicing sexual renimciation, on the other to the family/community in which this individual lived. To this end
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the author collects evidence to uncover Greco-Roman and Jewish attitudes towards sex and marriage in the early centuries of our era and examines documents of the early church fathers pertaining to virginity, marriage, and sexual activity. The book is arranged in two parts, the first purporting to cover general attitudes towards virginity in this time period and the second a study of virgiruty in the writings of the church fathers. This would be an admirable division of the subject, but for the fact that a considerable number of passages written by the Fathers of the Church, together with a discussion of their views, occur proleptically in the first part, in the analysis of their interpretations of 1 Corinthians 7. Part 1 is seriously marred by errors in comprehending the practice and understanding of virginity in Greece and Rome. Examples include the assumption that the mythical athlete Atalanta is a goddess (3), and Mary Beard's comments on the Vestal Virgins of Rome together with (Roman) Stoic views appear in the Greek section; conversely, the Greek tragic heroine Antigone appears in the Roman section, in the discussion of the sorry fate of Vestals who lost their virginity. In Evans's discussions of "virgin priestesses" there is no attempt to separate sexual purity (during priestly service) from lifelong virginity, a practice reserved for very few. The general thrust of Evans's argument that marriage was encouraged and virginity discouraged for young women in the Greco-Roman world is sound, but misses an important point. The Greek parthenos was a social, not a physiological, term and denoted a girl not yet bound to a man. This explains literary signs of distress in young brides and the determination of certain Olympian goddesses to retain their virginity and, hence, enjoy a measurable degree of autonomy. This insight could have been linked to Evans's exploration of the tensions produced by communities of female Christian virgins of the first four centuries c.E. who benefited from independence from the patriarchal family structure. Also helpful for the later discussion would have been a look at the ways in which Greek virgin priestesses or virgin choruses in religious festivals were looked upon as mediators of divine will. The chapter studying the views of virgins and virginity in ancient Jewish writings would have benefited from a study of the Hebrew word almah, routinely translated in Greek by parthenos or in English by "virgin," but which could refer not only to virgins but to young widows, concubines, or prostitutes. This chapter closes by referring to "immaculate conception" in the story of Joseph and Aseneth (22). It is distressing to find that a historical theologian would confuse this with virgin birth. In part 2 the reader is treated to an array of fascinating topics that emerge from documents belonging to the early church. That virginity emerged as one of several competing paradigms being offered for salvationthe subject of the bookis striking. To imderstand the potential here, and the impulses that led to this, one would find it helpful to have had a capsule presentation and assessment of the other paradigms, such as those offered by Arianism, Donatism, or the Marcionites. This second part raises other intriguing and important issues. Among these is the palpable tension in the writings of the Fathers as they attempt to reconcile the community's need for marriage with their own disdain for sex and the difficulties they had coming to terms with their own sexuality that led to this disdain. The misogyny arising from their writings emerges on almost every page and would have been worth an
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examination in itself. The independent lives lived by substantial communities of celibate women by the third century c.E. created new tensions with the patriarchal tendencies that were now fixing the form of the early church. This has been well studied, but Evans's reminder that the various treatises presenting stem advice to these celibate communities arose from a fear of loss of control (145) is salutary. That there were tensions created between celibate women and married women (80) is a natural assumption, and the reader is left wondering if any written evidence survives for this assumption. The paradox of a virg'in mother (Mary Qeovtoko, 154) is raised in a discussion of the intercessory chain of virgins-Mary-Christ-God. A fuller treatment of this apparent paradox is warranted, one that could have included virgin mothers in the Greek tradition and elsewhere (for parthenoi as mothers, see Giulia Sissa, Greek Virginity [Cambride, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1990]). Another Greek precedent that could have increased the study of the soteriological force of virginity was the notion of the first-fruit sacrifice of young nubile women, found in many mythical narratives. (That of Iphigeneia is perhaps the best known.) This could have been connected to the "spotless" sacrificial offering reported in the Hebrew Scriptures as offering the hope of salvation (126). That the church fathers saw themselves as dependent upon virgins is one of the most important contributions made by this study. It is reasonable to conclude that this lay behind the vitriol leveled at fallen virgins in their writings (163-69), and it imderscores the importance of a study of this sort. It is unfortunate that this book is so seriously compromised by lack of the development of arguments along clear lines, either chronological or thematic. Repetition of texts does not serve to develop the arguments. Errors of syntax and spelling abound, and these compound the other difficulties standing in the way of honoring this extremely important subject. Bonnie MacLachlan University of Western Ontario The Making of a Christian Aristocracy: Social and Religious Change in the Western Roman Empire. By Michele Renee Salzman. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2002. xiv + 364 pp. $55.00 cloth; $19.95 paper. The Christianization of the Roman Empire is often approached as a bottom-up issue, that is, the poor converted first and the aristocracy held out the longest; or as top-down issue, that is, Constantine's conversion precipitated a trickle-down effect as civil servants and minor aristocrats saw the imperial handwriting on the wall and converted to save or better their positions. Scholars following Arthur Darby Nock saw Christianization as the result of a turn to individual piety in the face of the sterility of the state cult. Yet little concrete demographic or solid sociological evidence has been adduced to buttress these opinions or to offer a well-documented alternative. Until now. Michele Renee Salzman focuses specifically on members of the Roman senatorial, imperial, bureaucratic, and ecclesiastical aristocracies in the West from 284 to 423 from an empire that practiced traditional Roman religions to one that outlawed them. Using data on aristocrats found in the major Roman prosopographies and supplemented by epigraphical and literary sources, Salzman assembled a database of persons about whom provenance, rarJ<, offices held, personal and spousal religious affiliation, and date
