Eleri Cousins's new study of the sanctuary of Sulis Minerva at Bath is a welcome addition to copious literature on the subject. Indeed, it is the first academic work to consider the broader implications of the mass of archaeological detail which has accumulated over the last three centuries, including that recovered from the extensive excavations of the spring and temple precinct conducted by the Bath Archaeological Trust between 1978 and 1984 (published 1985). The author makes clear at the outset that her study is focused on three themes: the relationship of the sanctuary to Roman imperialism, the part played by the spring in the lives of those who visited it, and Bath's place within the western Roman empire. This, then, is a book, not about the dry bones of archaeology and architecture, but about people, agency and the changing political and social environment to which they were responding.

The main substance of the book (chapters 2–6) is preceded by an entertaining chapter exploring the discovery of Roman Bath in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. It begins by examining the attitudes of antiquaries like Englefield, Pownall, Warner and Scharf to the shock of confronting the Gorgon's head pediment, found in 1790, and proceeds to the squabbles of the late nineteenth century, as the baths are uncovered, between the city architect Major Davis and his contractor Richard Mann, and the moderating influence of the architect J.T. Irvine. By introducing us in this way to some of the characters involved in the story, the author is reminding us that perceptions of the past are always conditioned by the times in which we live and should thus be subject to constant re-examination. This sets the tone for what is to follow.

The second chapter deals with the central issue of whether or not the springs were perceived to have had curative properties in the Roman period. Most writers have assumed that this was so, basing the belief on Vitruvius’ statement that all hot springs were curative and the fact that the Bath spring was revered for its healing properties from the medieval period to the present day. But the author is more cautious, insisting on examining all the evidence from Bath and concluding that there is little, if anything, to support the contention. While not ruling out that healing may have been one of the attractions of the sanctuary, it was not, Cousins believes, central to its functions. This rebalancing of perceptions clears the way for the more nuanced consideration of how worshippers interacted with the spring – a subject presented in chapters 5 and 6. There is much of very considerable interest here. The main categories of votive deposit, the coins, the lead alloy curses and the temple plate, are each carefully considered in their local, British and western European contexts. Each category, Cousins argues, represents a different aspect of the complex relationship between humans and the deity. While the temple plate, most of it old and worn out, was simply returned to the goddess at the end of its useful life by temple servants, the coins are a tangible marker of the individual supplicants’ devotion to Sulis. The curses are different again. They have a specific function, neatly encapsulated in the author's summation, ‘to harness and control feelings of loss and decay’. They are judicial prayers to the deity, a personal communication, committed to the spring, a liminal place, allowing them to pass between our world and the chthonic realms. The author's discussion of these issues is rich, not only in detail, but also in insight.

Another of the major themes, explored in chapter 4, is the involvement of the military in the initial creation of the sanctuary. The author examines the two current hypotheses, that the work was initiated by a powerful individual or that it was an act of state reconciliation following the Boudiccan rebellion, and finds them wanting, preferring to see the great construction programme as a blatant demonstration of state power and domination, the new authority imposing itself by transforming, and thus controlling, a location sacred to the native population. The central iconography of the pediment – the Gorgon's head on a shield held aloft by two winged Victories – Cousins sees as a symbol of victory and conquest, but concedes that over time the original harsh symbolism may have become muted in the processes of cultural integration.

Rather than describe the architecture of the sanctuary in any detail, the author offers a brief sketch enlivened by Sheila Gibson's fine axonometric reconstruction of the inner precinct as it might have appeared in the early third century. Cousins acknowledges that there would have been an abundance of imagery everywhere, but discusses very little of it except for the altar, about which a number of doubts are raised. Was the structure really an altar? The carved corner blocks are better considered to be later than the first century to which they are usually dated. And could it be that the structure was moved to its present position in the later Roman period? All that can be said in response to these doubts is that its location, on an axial line in front of the temple, is the conventional position for an altar. That it is also sited on the north–south axis, which relates to the large central viewing window in the north wall of the baths dating to the late first century, rather than to the small door in the wall of the later reservoir enclosure, argues in favour of it being a primary structure belonging to the initial layout.

The other monuments are only briefly mentioned. The sculptured Syrian arch above the quadrifrons, guarding the door leading to the reservoir, is touched upon, the author doubting the suggestion that the nymphs depicted on it were holding up the roundel with the head of Sol, a large fragment of which has survived. Another significant monument, the Facade of the Four Seasons, is noted. It may well have stood opposite the arch and quite possibly supported the pediment depicting Luna. If this was so, then the symbolism of Sol facing Luna across the altar, each guarding their respective spheres, certainly deserves discussion, not least because these monuments created the conceptual framework that dominated the very centre of the sanctuary. Another monument, sited somewhere near the temple complex, was a structure (a tholos?) carrying an elaborately decorated curved entablature. Peter Davenport has recently suggested that the blocks were part of the scaenae frons of a theatre, which may have lain east of the temple precinct, but the elaborate decoration of the inside of the entablature would argue that it was more likely to have come from a circular monument: the matter remains unresolved. These few examples illustrate that, while much survives of the monuments adorning the sanctuary, without knowing more of their form and location, the reconstruction of the space within which people attempted to relate to their deity, and the impact of the dominating iconography on them, are likely to remain speculative.

For all its limitations, the information we now have from the sanctuary of Sulis Minerva, gleaned over the last three centuries, is remarkably rich. The author has dipped deeply into it and has presented her findings in an empire-wide context, bringing out much that is new that will provoke debate for generations to come. This is a timely work and a major contribution to our understanding, not only of Roman Bath, but also of the complex interactions between people and their gods.