The Crimes of Elagabalus: The Life and Legacy of Rome’s Decadent Boy Emperor by Martijn Icks (review)

Abstract

Reviewed by: The Crimes of Elagabalus: The Life and Legacy of Rome’s Decadent Boy Emperor by Martijn Icks Charmaine Gorrie Martijn Icks. The Crimes of Elagabalus: The Life and Legacy of Rome’s Decadent Boy Emperor. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2012. Pp. 304. CDN $33.44. ISBN 9780674064379. Although not as well known as Caligula or Nero, Elagabalus ranks among the more notorious Roman emperors. He is portrayed in the ancient sources as a cruel, cross-dressing, sexually depraved religious fanatic who transgressed Roman sexual and religious taboos, going so far as to marry a Vestal Virgin. With such press, it is not surprising that Elagabalus has enjoyed an interesting legacy in both ancient and more modern times. In The Crimes of Elagabalus: The Life and Legacy of Rome’s Decadent Boy Emperor, it is Martijn Icks intent to examine both how this emperor has been constructed as one of Rome’s bad emperors in ancient literature and how he has been perceived [End Page 269] and reinvented in later times (5). The book is divided into two parts: the first reconstructs and interprets events during Elagabalus’ reign and the second describes and examines how the emperor has been perceived and reinvented through the ages. One of the problems with the study of a figure such as Elagabalus is to sort fact from fiction. In the first three chapters, Icks tries to determine “what happened” during the years ad 218–222. Recognizing the limitations and biases of the ancient literary sources writing about this period, and the tendency of modern scholarship to rely on these sources in their analysis, Icks argues that by including material culture such as coins, statues, papyri, inscriptions, and archaeological remains a more balanced account can be achieved. Using these resources, Icks examines how Elagabalus came to the throne, how much power he actually had, and what the regime hoped to accomplish. The emperor’s young age (he came to the throne when he was barely 14) necessitated that others were probably in charge. The emperor’s family from Emesa, which had played an important role in placing Elagabalus on the throne, had substantial control of affairs, but Icks also suggests that there was support and influence from a pro-Severan faction in Rome that included senators and equestrians. These men would have benefited politically from having the “heir” of Caracalla as emperor. Although Elagabalus is heavily criticized by the ancient sources for the way that he governed, Icks comes to the conclusion that in terms of political and economic reforms the reign was uneventful and the administration of the empire went on without disruption. He argues, in fact, that compared to the upheaval that was to come Elagabalus’ reign can be considered one of the most tranquil and peaceful periods of the third century (88). In this section, Icks also questions the view that Elagabalus’ reign represented a clash between the Syrian “East” and the Roman “West.” He points out that the emperor came from the local elite at Emesa, who had been Roman citizens for two centuries, and had spent some of his childhood in Caracalla’s court. He would therefore not have been a total stranger to Roman culture, nor would those who advised him. At the beginning of the reign, during the years ad 218–220, Icks shows that in order to shore up support the regime presented the emperor in a highly traditional manner. Taking the official name Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, he was portrayed through coinage, inscriptions, and portraiture as the legitimate heir descended from Caracalla and the Antonines. Blessed by the gods, he would re-establish the dynasty and a period of peace and prosperity. Icks argues that Elagablus veered from Roman ways only at the end of ad 220 when the religious reforms were implemented and the emperor was voted “sacerdos amplissimus dei invicti Solis Elagabali” by the senate. The god Elagabal was now promoted to chief deity at the expense of the traditional Roman pantheon, but the intent was never to establish a monotheistic religion, as others have suggested. Icks suggests that the elevation of Elagabal may have been at the instigation of the emperor himself, who...