In this book, Zur Shalev provides an impressive study of sacred geography in the denominationally riven Europe of the late sixteenth and the seventeenth centuries. Shalev sets himself a tricky task because, although sacred geography is the focus of the work, he refuses to proffer a definition of it at the beginning, rather wishing for one to emerge over the course of the book. This puts the onus on the attentive reader. But on the whole the gambit works. It does mean, however, that the book cannot be easily skimmed, even if each chapter can be read separately for its discussion of a particular aspect of sacred geography. The book is a beautifully written, erudite account, drawing on a vast range of sources, which traces the complexities, evolution and vagaries of the concept of sacred geography over the century and half. Broadly speaking, the subject of Shalev's book is the mapping of the Holy Land, but he shows how this mapping was part of a confessional battle which ‘took place on common antiquarian ground’ (p. 14), thus bringing in the other angle of this book – antiquarian studies and their relationship with sacred geography in the period.
The three chapters at the core of this book are devoted to three antiquarians, all of whom made significant contributions to the study of sacred geography: the Spaniard Benito Arias Montano, who edited the Polyglot Bible in Antwerp; the Franciscan Bernardino Amico of Gallipoli; and the Protestant pastor Samuel Bochart, from Caen. Montano travelled from Spain to Antwerp to take up the position of editor of the Polyglot Bible, which Plantin published. He was a skilled antiquarian who saw the value of illustrations of buildings and monuments, architectural designs and maps, and although he relied on others to produce these, he published them along with his commentary in the Bible (and in his own work Antiquitates Iudicae). His images and maps encouraged their use ‘as exemplary stories about a place, rather than a depiction of place itself’ (p. 70). Montano and the sacred geography he presented were part of a republic of letters which was fascinated both by antiquarian learning and by measurement and visualization. Montano created illustrations and maps of a historic Holy Land, but he made no effort to travel to the Holy Land itself.
By contrast, Amico, the subject of Shalev's second case study, spent much time in the Holy Land. Like Montano, he also demonstrated an antiquarian interest and in his Trattato de sacri edificii di Terra santa (1609) he included a large number of illustrations of ancient monuments, and even a map of the ancient city of Jerusalem in addition to one of contemporary Jerusalem. He showed a fascination with measurement, detail and ‘historical stratification’ (p. 139). His was an account that, in contrast, placed emphasis on the eyewitness report, and his authority was gained by his first-hand knowledge of the Holy Land.
The third case study, Bochart, had yet another focus, but one that was still shaped by antiquarian interests. His work, in this case specifically titled Geografia sacra, used Genesis 10 and its table of nations as its starting point. Bochart drew the Phoenicians into the compass of his biblical geography, believing that Phoenician was a Hebrew dialect. His sacred geography was founded on a study of biblical place names, and his biblical world extended right across the Mediterranean, and even as far as India and Thule – the furthest regions of Phoenician travel. Bochart believed that the Bible was the only source of prehistory, and from it could be gleaned information about the peoples and division of the earth.
Shalev places all these sacred geographers firmly into the context of religious controversy. For instance, because Bochart was a Protestant, his sacred geography, although in many ways an innocuous work, was seen as dangerous by Catholic authorities even before it was really begun. As Shalev points out, he tackled many of the same questions as did Montano, and even used similar philological techniques to answer them. Whereas Montano had used Hebrew words, however, Bochart also used Greek, Arabic, Syriac and Phoenician. Although they had similar approaches, their motives and justifications were very different. The Catholic Montano placed emphasis on the allegorical interpretation, the Protestant Bochart on the literal. Bochart's work proved hugely popular and was used as an authoritative source on the Phoenicians by Protestant and Catholic alike. It was cited as late as the nineteenth century, yet Shalev's study shows that, in its origins, it has to be read against the backdrop of the religious controversy of his own times.
Bochart's biblical exegesis extended the idea of geographia sacra hugely, bringing it into a global context. But, as Shalev points out in his last substantive chapter, there was another strand to geographia sacra, that of ecclesiastical geography, which covered much more than biblical exegesis. This chapter is devoted to the visual and textual mapping of the Church at the instigation of Catholic authorities.
Shalev has made a fascinating contribution to the growing interest in sacred geography in the early modern period. He has added a more nuanced perspective to the idea that sacred geography was predominantly a Protestant interest, and has woven in the importance of antiquarian studies in the period. The case studies at the core of the book are drawn out to fit into a far bigger and more elaborate picture than simply a study of the work of three scholars. Using their work, he shows how the religious tensions of the period affected the style, production and reception of sacred geography. Shalev's own linguistic abilities provide him with the tools to draw out this picture, and contribute a great deal to the value of this book.
