This is a rich and thought-provoking volume that centres materiality as an essential framework for the study of Greek religion. The collection of essays stems from the 2015 conference ‘The Stuff of the Gods: The Material Aspects of Religion in Ancient Greece’ put on by the Swedish Institute of Athens (in collaboration with the British School). For more than 40 years the Swedish Institute has exerted a significant influence in the field of Greek religion, and this volume contributes to its long lineage of conference publications on such topics (typically in series 4˚ and 8˚ of Skrifter utgivna av Svenska Institutet i Athen). Unlike the Swedish Institute's past volumes dealing with Greek religion and archaeology, this volume approaches religion from the perspective of materiality. The chronological span covers the Greek Bronze Age to Roman Greece. The methodologies and the theoretical paradigms employed are wide-ranging, with some more successfully applied than others. Overall, though, the volume should be commended for its high number of quality essays.

We have seen a growing interest in religious materiality over the past decade, in both Greek and Roman studies. In the introduction the editors situate the volume squarely within the ‘material turn’ (although they say that their conference was inspired by D. Morgan's ‘post-material turn study of religion’ [p. 7], they do not explain how their volume fits in with this ‘post-material turn’), outlining that a focus on the material environment and ‘stuff’ showcases how Greeks experienced, manipulated and imagined their dealings with the gods. They argue that the ‘material turn’ allows for both innovation and interdisciplinarity in scholarship, thus their editorial choice to incorporate materiality as evident in texts and the visual arts as well as in the archaeological disciplines. Most of the essays address material culture and space, real or imagined. More discussions of material agency in the religious sense, as found in ancient magic, protective amulets or efficacious substances, would have been a welcome addition to the volume. The seventeen chapters are grouped roughly by theme, though there are several topics addressed throughout, such as sacrality, movement through physical space, the make-up and impact of assemblages, religion outside the sanctuary, replication, the senses and so forth.

The opening chapters consider the nature of the gods and how the material world might reflect or shape them, with the shared conclusion that the divine and the material are intertwined. R. Osborne makes the case that the material environment (including dedications) and the human comportment within sanctuaries (controlled through regulations) shaped and reshaped the character of the gods. Mili's article treats the attributes and objects closely associated with the gods, such as Apollo's bow, as depicted in literature rather than visual arts. The close connection of deities to objects reinforces that the gods populate a material world.

C. Durvye and H. von Ehrenheim both consider material space as employed by specific populations, social groups and sanctuary sites. Durvye's essay asks how material culture might influence a community's concept of the gods at one site through time. Her case study is the Delos Aphrodision, which she calls first a sanctuary of a particular family and elite magistrates, but one with a changed character after a new population moved onto the island (167 bce). She speculates that offerings can reinforce a deity's personality, but only when the local population remains stable. Von Ehrenheim stresses the importance of locality and the belief that divine presence was especially marked at sites such as hero tombs or incubation buildings. Her conclusions draw on ‘the concept of space as a social creation’ (p. 47), with that space differing for social groups (e.g. elites). Social factors, von Ehrenheim indicates, can shift a potent space from a physical locality within a sanctuary to a more flexible dream space.

Several articles challenge notions of sacred space by rethinking the sacred and secular divide in ancient Greece; this is a much-needed conversation given that the sacred/profane distinction has been one of the more persistent models in our discipline. My sense is that P. Pakkanen's essay will be particularly influential. She makes the case that modern dichotomies drawn between the sacred and the secular have been anachronistically applied to ancient Greece. Her essay argues that sacrality was not fixed, but rather a changeable characteristic of space, the landscape and objects. She creates a distinction between sanctuary land and its non-movable buildings, which had a less flexible sacrality, and movable objects, whose sacrality level could shift. G. Ekroth's careful essay surveys the practicalities of the temenos, how it was set apart for the gods, and how human use of the space might conflict with the gods’ needs. She shows that a temenos wall was not a religious requirement at Greek sanctuaries, and reminds us that that our concepts of sanctuary space must be shaped by how human and animal activity was regulated within it.

Wallensten and C. Barrett treat religious objects outside the temenos and thus help move religion into everyday, lived space. Wallensten examines magistrates’ dedications, documenting two illuminating case studies, (1) statues set up by agoranomoi in or around the agora and (2) statues set up in the nomophylakeion of Cyrene. She identifies several highly interesting patterns, suggests that the focus of these monuments is the magistrate rather than the gods, and grapples with the question whether the dedications are ‘sacred’ or ‘decorative’. Barrett positions herself against binary treatments of figurines as either inherently ‘religious’ or ‘decorative’, using terracotta figurines found in households as a case study. Affordance theory serves as the vehicle for her exploration of how Greeks may have understood figurines and interacted with them. Barrett shows that the affordances model encourages great interpretative flexibility (for both us and the Greeks). Particularly appreciated is her inclusion of magic figurines as a facet of domestic practice.

Multiple chapters highlight votives and ‘things’ inside sanctuaries, using a variety of perspectives, and demonstrate how essential dedications and monuments remain for our endeavour. For example, G. Salapata's essay underlines the flexibility of Greek terracottas. The depicted subject of many terracotta figurines was ambiguous, but the figurines could be adapted easily during production or the ritual process. She implies that ambiguity could be a benefit, as it made figurines eminently versatile. J. Whitley calculates the frequency of votive inscriptions in Archaic Greece. He concludes that only about 3–7% of votives were inscribed. His study concerns military votives, and it mulls over why some votives received texts and others did not. Although he argues that ‘writing inscribes agency’ (p. 193) to votives (in the Alfred Gell sense), I wonder at the implications for the other more than 90% uninscribed votives. Without inscriptions, do they lose agency, or does it become a different kind?

T.J. Smith contributes an art historical perspective, as do several other essays treating votives. She provides an iconographic reading of scenes of animal sacrifice on vases and argues that vase painters visually conceptualised sacrificial animals as ‘objects’, controlled and dominated by humans, with the animals lacking agency. N. Papalexandrou explores one votive type, Orientalising cauldrons from seventh-century Panhellenic sanctuaries. He eloquently describes Panhellenic sanctuaries of the time as ‘cabinets of curiosities’ invoking wonder in visitors; his comparative discussion of other periods marked by increased travel and ‘the recalibration of the kosmos’ (p. 217) is illuminating. The rare, exotic cauldrons acted as agalmata, which made viewers and the gods have the same reaction: delight. Papalexandrou's understanding of how the Orientalising cauldrons caused wonder emphasises their difference: they were un-Greek in function and style, too realistic in their sculptural components and thus did not fit with Greek ‘perceptual software’.

Repetition is treated by both T.M. Kristensen and C. Vout. Kristensen summarises the different evidence for, and interpretations of, a single item, the Delphic omphalos. Using the concept of mythistory, he addresses two aspects of the Delphic omphalos, its role as a metaphor and its existence as matter, a ‘thing’ that was replicated. Vout's chapter emphasises a multiplicity of objects, with a particular emphasis on statuary. She argues that scholars have been too quick to spotlight special examples (e.g. cult statues), inevitably overlooking the crowded and chaotic reality of sanctuaries. Like Papalexandrou, she is evocative in her descriptions of sanctuary spaces teeming with artworks. Her focus is on reception and cognitive engagement, and she stresses that the very nature of crowded sanctuaries induced thauma (‘wonder’).

Three essays address religious architecture in distinct historical contexts; they all challenge generally accepted models for sanctuary development and the role of buildings therein. Haysom's provocative essay on bench shrines stands out, bringing Bronze Age evidence squarely into the mix. Haysom argues that there is no evidence for bench shrines in Crete in the fifteenth century, but that the thirteenth-century bench shrine phenomenon in Crete and the mainland was indeed real. As an alternative to sociological explanations for architectural change, he provides a ‘material’ explanation: changes in architectural forms generally (in this case, ways of accessing authority figures in more restrictive and ‘compartmentalized’ built space) inevitably lead to similar changes in religious architecture.

C. Morgan's detailed article rethinks the historical development of sanctuaries at the end of the Iron Age. Rather than an architecture-based approach stuck on the Greek orders or a ‘reductive’ picture of temples’ relationships to polis formation, she looks to materiality and spatial analysis, showing that Iron Age sanctuaries were complex open-air spaces with buildings only later ‘inserted’ into them. Her article is a valuable rejoinder to traditional studies of sanctuary formation, and it will be of much interest to Archaic period historians. C. Potts turns to (southern) Etruria and central Italy. Her article features several interesting observations, one of my favourites being what she calls the ‘lateral view’ of temples. This major visual framework was imposed, as it were, by the positioning of the ridgepole sculpture. Overall, her essay centres experience and perception of temples, stressing that Etruscan and central Italic temples were meant to engage visitors, foster interconnectivity, and identify and manifest the divine.

The Stuff of the Gods is a stimulating collection of essays. Given the conference date (2015), the publication of the volume in 2024 seems quite delayed. For a volume that offers so much to the study of Greek religion, one wishes that the publisher had been timelier. As with many edited volumes, some of the essays are mostly descriptive of evidence, while others vigorously engage with theoretical frameworks and methodology, or challenge long-standing disciplinary conclusions. Indeed, several articles jolt the study of Greek religion forward, encouraging the reassessment of influential concepts such as ‘sacred’ space/artefacts, the rethinking of traditional historical developments, and offering provocative treatments of votives. So, too, the diversity in approaches makes for a refreshing read. As such, the volume is a welcome and recommended contribution to the study of Greek religion.