Gideon Bohak's Ancient Jewish Magic: A History presents, as its title suggests, a historical approach to understanding the phenomenon of Jewish magic in antiquity. He engages the topic from a largely positivist point of view, eschewing theoretical debates over the definition of magic and Jewish in favor of adopting an etic position vis-à-vis these terms. Through a careful diachronic study of material and textual evidence, Bohak presents a cultural history of ancient Jewish magic that seeks to elucidate “its cultural make-up, and what it tells us about its origins and transformations and about the people who practiced it” (5). In the course of this study, he argues that the Jewish practice of magic developed over time, changing in significant ways from the Second Temple period to the Roman era. Specifically, he argues that Jewish magic existed in the Second Temple period, but was primarily oral, both in practice and in transmission; consequently, very little, if any, evidence for this magic survives. It was only in the Roman period and as a result of influence from Greco-Egyptian magic that Jewish magicians began to inscribe their spells on material artifacts and pass on their knowledge in recipe books, leaving behind a much richer corpus of material to study and understand. What ensues is a virtually encyclopedic study of every aspect of ancient Jewish magical practices, ranging from the commonplace wearing of amulets to the scholarly adjuration of angels. For Bohak, magic is fairly easy to identify and can be studied as a class of ritual practices that is sui generis.

After a brief eight-page introduction, which addresses questions of definition and theory, Chapter 1, “Jewish Magic: A Contradiction in Terms?” tackles Bohak's primary concern: namely, to rehabilitate the study of Jewish magic. He attempts to steer a middle course between scholars who regard Judaism of all periods as “shot through with magic” and those who reject the idea that magic was anything other than a naming strategy, used to derogate the religious practices of an Other (10). In this chapter, Bohak explores biblical prohibitions and paradigms, including miracle workers and “men of God” such as Elijah and Elisha. He also examines biblical rituals that smack of magic. He then poses the question, how could such rituals have appeared rational to ancient practitioners? He concludes that the conflict or contradiction that we perceive did not exist in the ancient world. Instead, Bohak considers ways in which magic may have appeared to work and would have answered psychological needs. Finally, he considers the apparent contradiction between magic and monotheism, demonstrating ways in which magic could be perceived to operate legitimately within a monotheistic worldview.

Chapters 2–6 follow the chronological development of magic from the Second Temple until the rabbinic period, examining both “insider” and “outsider” evidence where it is available. In Chapter 2, “Jewish Magic in the Second Temple Period,” Bohak notes the paucity of insider evidence for Jewish magic from this era and relies instead on outsider testimony (71). He begins this chapter by highlighting the lack of magic accusations against opponents by Jews of this period (75), and next turns to consider Philo's attitude regarding mageia, which reveals an ambivalence typical of his time; Philo acknowledges the divine knowledge of the Persian priests but rejects “the base art which sometimes goes by the same name.” Bohak then discusses the demonic origins of magic according to texts such as I Enoch, Jubilees, and the Dead Sea Scrolls, which attribute knowledge of magic to the fallen angels of Genesis 6:1–4. At the end of the Second Temple period and as witness to its demise, Josephus describes various rabble-rousers as goêtes, but his description suggests something comparable to “charlatans” or “impostors” rather than magicians in the typical sense of the term. These examples, Bohak posits, point toward “a general absence of magic from the public discourse of Second Temple Jews” (87). He then discusses the ample evidence for Jewish exorcism, which seems to have typified Jewish magic at this time.

In Chapter 3, “Jewish Magic in Late Antiquity—The ‘Insider’ Evidence,” Bohak examines extant evidence for Jewish magic, including the use of amulets, curses, papyri, recipe books, and other realia. Chapter 4, “Non-Jewish Elements in Late-Antique Jewish Magic,” explores the ample evidence for foreign influence on Jewish magical practices, including direct Hebrew and Aramaic translations of Greek originals, the use of Greek words and phrases, as well as mistranslations and transliterations of Greek words and phrases. Foreign deities, magical symbols (charactêres), and words of power (voces magicae) also indicate borrowing from Greek magical paradigms. Here, Bohak lays out his theory of the scribalization of Jewish magic: Greek magic became increasingly scribal sometime during the first centuries BCE and CE as writing became an integral part of the ritual practice of magic. Jewish magic, he points out, underwent a similar transformation in the third or fourth century CE; he thus posits that “a connection between these two processes seems quite plausible” (284). Apparently, as Jewish magicians increasingly encountered Greco-Egyptian traditions and practices, they integrated and eventually naturalized them, substantially altering the way in which Jewish magicians conceived and practiced their art.

Chapter 5, “How ‘Jewish’ Was Ancient Jewish Magic?” examines what kind of Judaism and what kind of Jews are revealed by the variety of magical practices (291). Bohak first addresses the difficulty of “deciding what exactly to consider ‘Jewish’” (295); he seeks elements that are specifically Jewish (not common to Gentile and Christian magic) but that are also flexible enough to account for changing ideas of what constitutes Jewishness (295). He then examines Jewish divine names, epithets, and descriptions as well as the use of biblical verses and historiolae. He also discusses evidence for the synagogue as a place where magic was performed, either to harm or heal. This chapter helpfully explores “the complex relations between Jewish magic and Jewish mysticism in late antiquity” (322), revealing that despite many similarities, the two traditions emerge from distinct social groups within Judaism and pursue different aims and purposes (333). Finally, Bohak analyzes the limits of cultural receptivity: when and why Jewish magicians confine their willingness to appropriate and naturalize foreign elements. He concludes that Jewish magicians were far more Jewish and less syncretistic that previously argued (350).

The final chapter, “Magic and Magicians in Rabbinic Literature,” examines rabbinic evidence for and attitudes toward Jewish magic in light of “insider” sources (352). Bohak begins this chapter quite naturally with a discussion of rabbinic halakhah regarding magic, noting that exceptions existed for certain types of magic to be studied and practiced, at least by rabbis. Next, he considers depictions of rabbis employing the magic of creation, as well as magic for medicinal purposes and self-defense. He also discusses cases in which rabbis promulgate a fear of demonic or magical attack as a form of social control, to convince ordinary Jews to accept rabbinic prescriptions and authority. Also under the heading of “Magic as a Means for Social Control,” Bohak discusses cases where rabbis employ magic to defeat opponents and offenders (369). He also discusses rabbinic attitudes toward the wearing of amulets and magical uses of the divine name. The chapter culminates with a discussion of rabbis as magicians and rabbinic magical recipes.

The book concludes with an epilogue that summarizes Bohak's findings and reemphasizes the main objectives of the study: (1) to rehabilitate Jewish magic as a legitimate aspect of Jewish life and culture, (2) to establish its study as a legitimate field, (3) to emphasize that magic is not universal but culturally specific and subject to change, and (4) to define the parameters under which a scientific study of Jewish magic could be undertaken (i.e., comparatively and diachronically).

Gideon Bohak's Ancient Jewish Magic: A History provides a comprehensive survey of virtually every aspect of Jewish magic in antiquity; its breadth is encyclopedic and its discussions richly informative. It provides the most up-to-date single resource for the study of ancient Jewish magic and will serve as an excellent tool and starting point for those who wish to undertake research in this field. Specialists will find much with which they are already familiar, along with stimulating discussions and new insights. My main reservations about the book stem from Bohak's positivist approach to understanding magic in antiquity; he decides to employ an etic definition but fails to qualify precisely what that definition is. Bohak tosses all variety of ancient ritual and medicinal practices into a grab bag that he presumes is self-evidently “magical” to a modern observer, but he is unreflective about the presuppositions, historical context, and cultural biases of his indeterminate definition. He also accepts at face value attributions and depictions of magical practice without considering possible ideological motivations for such representations. In a similar vein, the book employs categories such as “Jew” or “Christian” uncritically, assuming that these were completely clear, uncontested categories and identities in late antiquity. The “borrowing” of magical symbols that Bohak describes between Jewish and Christian magic could also reflect blurred identities and community boundaries in late antiquity, providing a snapshot of the moment when these boundaries and identities were still being formed.