This revised doctoral thesis is the first book-length effort to elucidate Josephus’ representations of the Flavian rulers and situate these in ‘the broader landscape of discourse’ in Flavian Rome (1). Davies offers his project as ‘a detailed study of Josephus’ delineation of his Flavian friends and patrons’ (9). Earlier treatments of the theme, especially before 2017, were relatively brief and served other purposes. D. responds to them throughout this fuller excavation. The study is well researched, though the characterisation of other work sometimes misfires. Distinctive features include D.'s theoretical framework, his effort to establish norms — in other depictions of the Flavians and more broadly — against which to assess Josephus’ portraits, the separate examinations of BJ 1–6 and 7, and a thematic approach that isolates features in Josephus for comparison.
These traits shape the book's arrangement. An Introduction (1–10) surveys tendencies in Josephus research. It proposes that, since about 2000, the main influences have been post-colonial theory and a growing recognition that imperial power did not control literature. Scholars who find themselves linked to post-colonial theory here may be surprised, but the recognition of Josephus’ independence, from both his sources and imperial propaganda, is undoubtedly growing.
Ch. 2, ‘Political Expression in Flavian Rome’ (11–49), seeks to establish conceptual reference points. After a valuable discussion of free speech and censorship under ancient conditions, D. declares it his aim ‘to offer a Foucault-inflected reading of the dynamics of power-knowledge in Rome as seen through the lens of literary expression and constraint’ (15). The chapter hosts occasional statements such as ‘both Latin and Greek knew important ideologies of veridiction’ (24). But most of it, as indeed the rest of the book, is Foucault-free. It mainly explores ancient sensibilities in relation to παρρησία, libertas and licentia, techniques for the praise of rulers, and the perils of writing contemporary history (Josephus was ‘courageous’ to do so: 22). Frederick Ahl, Shadi Bartsch and Vasily Rudich appear as pathfinders exploring modes of safe criticism and doublespeak. D. insists that criticism of the powerful had to be formulated in ways that could be read innocently (30).
Ch. 3, ‘The Jewish War: Audience, Structure, and Date’ (50–73), establishes more concrete reference points. On the first question, D. agrees with recent scholarship that Josephus’ expected audience was local, in Rome, whereas under the last two heads he revives a case, against recent studies, for treating BJ 7 as a Domitianic addition to the six-volume War completed before Vespasian's death in 79 c.e. Now, Josephus refers often to his War as a single, carefully researched and designed history, which he completed while Vespasian lived, before embarking on the Antiquities (e.g. AJ 1.1–7; Vit. 361–367; Ap. 1.47–54). Scholars have thus explored War's unifying themes and structural devices. Reversing the burden of proof, D. seems to regard such observations as arguments for unity (with ‘no real explanatory power’: 60). Still, his forcefully expressed case for the disjunction loses air when he allows that it is only ‘extremely viable’, not definitive (73), and later merely that it ‘cannot easily be dismissed’ (186).
Ch. 4, ‘The Flavians in Jewish War 1–6’ (74–185) is the main dish and occupies half the table. D. discusses Vespasian, Titus and Domitian in BJ 1–6 under several themes: Vespasian as commander, in relation to the divine, the legitimacy of his accession and his virtues; Titus the same, but replacing accession legitimacy with his role in the destruction of the temple. The overall picture is that Josephus constructs both characters in the service of his purposes as a Jewish writer. He never openly criticises the Flavians but nor does he make them model heroes. He portrays father and sons in ‘recognizably human’ ways, leaving abundant material for an uncontrollable subtext; he is even fairly overt about Vespasian's ‘dark patches’ (141). A brief section on Domitian points out that the teenager is a negligible presence in BJ 1–6, accorded none of the adulation typical after his rise to power.
Ch. 5, ‘The Flavians in Jewish War 7’ (186–204), traces a few strands of the putative added volume 7. D.'s main contributions here revive and fill out the proposal that BJ 7.85–87, with its over-the-top praise of Domitian's role in quelling the Batavian Revolt (195), as well as passages that emphasise dynastic harmony, make the best sense as products of Domitian's Rome.
Ch. 6, ‘Conclusions’ (205–217), is again thematic. Josephus is not helpfully characterised as a liar, panegyrist, propagandist, or dissident, D. has argued. He was an independent historian. D. concludes helpfully with four suggestions for future research and, more puzzlingly, with a plea for classicists to take a greater interest in this author.
If D.'s interpretations of passages in Josephus and in current scholarship are sometimes doubtfully decontextualised, that seems to be a function of the thematic approach, which needs abstraction for external comparison. The most vulnerable postulate is a Domitianic BJ 7, but D. seems conscious of the potential weakness and, despite appearances, his contribution does not depend on it. All differences aside, I commend this diligent and stimulating investigation to anyone interested in imperial historiography and/or the world and works of Josephus.
