Classical World

Maternal Megalomania deals with the images of Julia Domna, the wife of the emperor Septimius Severus, in the ancient sources, in particular with her honor and titles as mother of the Augusti, Caracalla, and Geta (Mater Augustorum), and as the metaphorical mother of the military camps, the senate, and the fatherland (Mater Castrorum et Senatus et Patriae). On the basis of coins displaying these titles, and to a lesser extent inscriptions and monuments, Langford tries to reconstruct Severan propaganda and the responses from the various audiences for whom these messages were meant. As she sets out in her introduction (1–22), Langford is especially interested in the creation of “ideology,” which she defines as the “dialogues” between the imperial administration and various sections of the population. Julia Domna’s images serve as a case study to examine these dialogues.

Apart from a brief discussion of the contradictory images of Julia Domna in the ancient sources, the introduction surveys Julia Domna’s titles and coinage in the various stages of her life. Corresponding to Julia Domna’s titles as “mother of the military camps, the senate, and the fatherland” (Mater Castrorum et Senatus et Patriae), the book is divided into three chapters discussing [End Page 142] Julia Domna’s image with the military (chapter 1), the Roman people (chapter 2), and the senate (chapter 3). The first chapter, on “Problematizing Julia Domna as Mater Castrorum” (23–48), challenges the view that the title Mater Castrorum was directed especially at the soldiers. Langford argues that the travelling imperial mints producing coins for the troops did not use the title, and that inscriptions set up for her by the soldiers use it only rarely. Instead, the title “mother of the camps” was meant for the senate and the Roman people in order to create the impression of a close relationship between the imperial family and the military. Thus, the emperor tried to gain support for his dynastic ambitions. Langford’s interpretation of the evidence, however, is not always convincing; for instance, her comparison between Julia Domna and Lavinia of Vergil’s Aeneid (43–44) is far-fetched and lacks support. At times the text is confusing, as when she writes that “only seventy-seven percent of military inscriptions employ the Mater Castrorum title” (24), a percentage that can hardly be called negligible.

The second chapter, on “Julia Domna and the Populus Romanus” (49–83), deals with the question of how Septimius Severus used the images of Julia Domna in his propaganda to the Roman people. Studying the literary sources, coins, and inscriptions, Langford tries to understand both the messages conveyed to, and the responses from, various segments of the population. Yet I doubt whether the careless record of Julia Domna’s maternal titles in inscriptions should be interpreted as a sign of the mixed response of the Roman populace to imperial propaganda. The final chapter, on “Julia Domna as Senatorial Savior” (84–112), discusses how Severus used Julia Domna’s images in his relationship with the senate. After observing that the senate competed with the imperial consort for the attention of the emperor, Langford argues that the changing portrait of Julia Domna in senatorial sources depended on their relationship with her male relatives.

By basing her discussion largely on numismatic evidence, a field in which she is clearly at home, Langford adds a welcome perspective to the studies of Julia Domna and imperial Rome. Yet overall the book is disappointing. Langford’s distinction between the “official narrative” of coins and inscriptions and the “unofficial narratives” of historical authors such as Dio and Herodian (3)—who, as she assumes, were inspired by Julia Domna’s images on coins and “manipulated them to suit their own agenda” (2)—is a simplification of the relationship between the various ancient sources and the aims and method of the authors. Langford is surely right in stating that it is impossible to reconstruct...