Despite its title, this is not so much a book on the Colosseum as on the political role the Colosseum and other monuments built in the area formerly occupied by Nero's Domus Aurea played in the legitimisation and consolidation of the Flavian Dynasty. The main thesis, that the Flavian building programme symbolised the victory of the new dynasty and at the same time connected the new emperors with the good Julio-Claudians – as opposed to the bad ones –, is not new, of course. But while most scholarship on the Colosseum tends to have a broader chronological scope, E. narrows the discussion down to the Flavian Emperors. Not just the building complex, but even what preceded it, is discussed mostly for what it tells us about Vespasian and his sons. The fate of the amphitheatre after the assassination of Domitian is covered in a few pages in the epilogue. Details on the building, games etc. are important, but their symbolic function and their political significance for the Flavians take precedence.
Accordingly, the first chapter opens with an account of Nero's reign, the Jewish revolt and the crisis of ad 69, which brought Vespasian to the imperial throne. About half of the chapter, however, is dedicated to Nero's Domus Aurea and its artificial lake. I am not entirely convinced by the claim that the Domus Aurea ‘subverted traditional Roman order by providing a place for public enjoyment … in downtown Rome’ (p. 19). Building amenities for the public was something that rich Romans often did, as E. acknowledges, and Nero was no different in this respect. That Nero's profligacy and megalomaniac building projects generated animosity among his contemporaries is well documented (e.g. Suet. Nero 39), but this may have been exaggerated by a hostile tradition. Razing to the ground the houses of exiles and public enemies is not unheard of in Roman history. It is barely surprising, therefore, that the Flavians chose to execute their building programme over the grounds where once stood the house of a disgraced emperor.
The next two chapters are dedicated to the Flavian building programme. In the description of the Colosseum itself (Chapter 2) E. manages to be detailed and technical without being too prolix or obscure. Both the student and the visitor will greatly enjoy this chapter, as it illuminates the main features of the amphitheatre, its engineering complexity and its magnificence. The chapter is profusely illustrated with images that bring the discussion even closer to the reader. Chapter 3, on the building complex around the Colosseum (the Temple of the Deified Claudius, the Meta Sudans, the Baths of Titus etc.), is much less descriptive and instead focuses on the political and ideological meaning of each building. E.'s aim is to show how the Flavians, while shunning the memory of Nero, created a connection with the good Julio-Claudian emperors, Augustus and Claudius. He draws heavily upon the work of other authors, mostly Italian and German, but he does not shun modern discussions and debates on some of the features of the complex, as when he engages with G. Lugli's (Anfiteatro Flavio [1961]) views on the location of the pulvinar, the imperial viewing box, a question to which he has made his own contributions (NC 164 [2004], 147–57). He correctly points out that G. Cozzo's (Ingegneria romana [1928], p. 215) often repeated claim that the Colosseum was built by Jewish slaves is unsupported by ancient sources, even if forcing Jewish captives to build a structure paid for by the sack of the Temple of Jerusalem would have been ‘quite possible and commensurate with Roman practice’ (p. 23).
Like M. Beard and K. Hopkins (The Colosseum [2005]) before him, E. uses Martial's De spectaculis as a window into the inaugural 100 days of games in ad 80, a celebration of the ‘power and generosity of the new dynasty’, in which the emperors are presented as semi-divine figures with strong powers over nature (p. 114). The description of each constituent part of the spectacle (pompa, venationes, beast fights, executions, gladiatorial combats and naval battles) does not apply only to the games staged by Titus, but can be read as a general introduction to Roman games. The section on gladiators, for example, mentions the Flavians only briefly and instead focuses on the origins of gladiatorial games, the social background of gladiators, the different types of arena fighters, and some modern misconceptions such as the meaning of pollice verso, which counter-intuitively may have meant thumbs up (p. 107). The section on executions draws heavily upon K.M. Coleman's ‘Fatal Charades’ (JRS 80 [1990], 44–73), and not all the examples of mythological enactments selected by E. took place under the Flavians, let alone in the Colosseum.
Almost inevitably, a book focused on the symbolic role of the Colosseum would need to explore what impact the Flavian building programme had on poetry and art (Chapter 5). Here, E. falters. He mostly talks about Martial without adding much to what he has already said in the previous chapter and he barely touches upon other authors. His exploration of artistic representations of the Colosseum is reduced to one sculpture in the frieze of the Temple of the Deified Vespasian and Titus (pp. 125–7). Much better is his discussion of coinage, E.'s own area of expertise. Drawing upon B. Levick's understanding of coinage as a combination of propaganda and praise (Antichthon 16 [1982], 104–16), his analysis of the numismatic depictions of the Colosseum is perhaps one of the most interesting parts of the book, and it casts light on material that most readers would probably be less acquainted with.
E. clearly had a non-specialist audience in mind, and he does not assume that readers already know the details of the history. He carefully provides plenty of background information and explains even basic facts. He often gives the singular and plural forms of the few Latin words that he uses. He provides a good bibliographical essay, which, even if it is restricted to works available in English, includes some translations from Italian as well. This does not mean that the specialist and the teacher of Classics will not find this book useful. E. has condensed much information not only about the Flavian building programme, but also on the Roman games in general in a fairly short and very readable volume. His contribution as a numismatist will fill a gap often uncovered by other similar books. More importantly, he has perused the most important scholarship on the subject, as can be appreciated in the endnotes.
There are a few unnecessary repetitions and minor slips, which could have been easily avoided, as when Agrippina is said to have drowned ‘in the ocean’ (p. 7), but they do not undermine the main thrust of the book. Surprisingly, coins are sometimes alluded to without reference numbers being provided (p. 57, coins of Caesar and Octavian; p. 78, Flavian IVDAEA CAPTA coins). I find the moral relativism of the last page quite puzzling and unnecessary. E.'s claim that Roman culture and civilisation ‘simply allowed for a certain type of institutionalized violence, and the institutionalization of violence still exists’ (p. 135) is clichéd and debatable. It is undeniable that our society is capable of perpetrating horrors on a scale the Romans could barely dream of. But the unparalleled moral progress of the last two centuries (the abolition of slavery in most countries, the laws against animal brutality etc.) would make the very existence of a modern Colosseum unthinkable. Appreciation of the Flavian amphitheatre does not amount to denial of the brutality of the Romans. And as E. correctly reminds us, Rome's most popular form of entertainment entailed the massive destruction of life, even if it took place in its most magnificent building.