In this useful study, first published in 1996, Henry Maguire examines those seemingly endless rows of standing saints who feature so often in Byzantine churches, but so rarely in books on Byzantine art. The book is primarily a stylistic one, using formal analysis of the images to help understand the perception of saints in Byzantium. Maguire argues that the ways in which saints were depicted were determined by the need to “define” them. An analysis of Byzantine modes of depiction thus can aid us in interpreting how viewers within that culture saw and understood their saints.

The opening chapter examines textual sources for Byzantine perceptions of art, and the apparent paradox that what Byzantine authors called “lifelike,” modern viewers tend to characterize as schematic and flat. Maguire invokes the many contemporary texts relating to dreams and visions in which saints appear and are recognized in relation to the images of them. These stories then help to confirm the veracity of images. He argues that the Byzantine notion of portraiture is very different from that understood today; it embodies the idea that portraits “define” a likeness, rather than recreating it illusionistically. A broad range of textual sources is assembled to support this argument, ranging from the seventh-century Life of Theodore of Sykeon to the fourteenth-century poems of Manuel Philes. These texts raise interesting questions about diachronic change in Byzantine perceptions of art. Maguire’s approach, however, tends to minimize issues concerning change, particularly after the Iconoclastic controversy of the eighth and ninth centuries. Is this necessarily the case?

The discussion in Chapter 2 of corporeality and immateriality shows the value of that now old-fashioned discipline, the close formalist study of art. Here Maguire provides a useful taxonomy of saint types, offers a detailed comparison of the ways in which these different types were depicted, and explores the ways in which these variations help to define their nature. For example, the greater modelling and mobility accorded to the Apostles represents their humanity; the liveliness and robustness of military saints were designed to inspire confidence in the beholder; and the immobility and flatness of church fathers, monks, and ascetic saints reflect their spiritual strength.

In making his argument, Maguire perhaps presents a picture that is too clear-cut. Ambiguities and stylistic evolutions are not fully accounted for. Some saints wander between Maguire’s different classifications, both in terms of their social status and profession and the way in which they were depicted. St. Demetrios, for example, evolved from the static aristocratic saint of the sixth and seventh centuries depicted in the mosaics in Thessaloniki (ills. 34, 83-85) to the active military saint depicted widely after Iconoclasm (e.g., at San Marco, Venice, ill. 67). It would have been interesting to see how that evolution affected the saint’s “definition.” A few post-Iconoclastic images, such as the eleventh-century enamel in the Kunstgewerbemuseum, Berlin, show St. Demetrios still as that early aristocrat, wearing chlamys and tablion. How did artists deal with this dual status? The same point could be made about the depiction of the body of Christ: Maguire discusses the iconic representation of saints and the Virgin at length, but the key figure of Christianity is only rarely mentioned or depicted in his illustrations. A detailed analysis of the image of Christ might require a whole new book, for the theology and politics of the body of Christ make up much of the history of Christianity. But to refer more often to Christ images, even in passing, would have strengthened and refined many aspects of Maguire’s arguments. The dual nature of Christ’s body also implies shifts between the categories outlined. Where, for example, does Christ fit into the Byzantine scheme of corporeality and immateriality? In the sixth century alone his depictions vary widely. In the apse of the main church of the Monastery of St. Catherine at Mt. Sinai, Egypt, Christ’s body is presented as a dematerialized white light, but in the church’s famous icon of the same date he appears as the more human figure of the Incarnation. This example demonstrates the subtlety with which Byzantine artists were able to play with the depiction of the body, and how much they depended on that subtlety to convey theological concepts.

In analyzing modes of depiction, the question of medium is important. Maguire is adept at interpreting the wall paintings that are at the core of his study, but how were saints “defined” in other, less malleable media, such as enamel? Clearly, in that miniature art form there was less room for the subtleties of characterization that monumental painting allowed, and yet these depictions do not lack means of identification. Were the distinctions of form that Maguire points out actually less crucial to the definition of saint types than he asserts?

There is also a question about the relationship between these images and the texts that Maguire cites. He presents a number of poems that were designed to be inscribed on icons, including many by Manuel Philes. Do these epigrams respond to visual cues in the icons for which they were supposedly commissioned, or were they added after the completion of the icons, in order to add nuances that are not visible in the originals? There is a tension between artistic intention and viewer response throughout this book that is never addressed.

Chapter 3 discusses naming, inscriptions, and magical beliefs in Byzantium. Maguire’s thesis is that inscriptions on icons became increasingly important after Iconoclasm as a way of demonstrating that the power of the icon lay in the individual depicted rather than the image itself as a sacred or magical object. Maguire notes that before Iconoclasm, icon types were frequently subject to formal repetitions, and that this tendency died out thereafter. This evidence of a shift from the object to the depiction is convincing.

Here again, it would have been useful to include more discussion of the image of Christ, for it is in their association with Christ that names take on most importance. Whether we recognize an icon as Christ Pantokrator, Christ Antiphonetes, Christ Emmanuel, or Christ Philanthropos depends as much on accompanying inscriptions as on the pose or other attributes of the depiction, or its placement in a church. Maguire quotes the fifteenth-century Byzantine cleric Gregory Melissenos’s remark on entering a Latin church in Florence: “I may recognise Christ, but I do not revere Him either, since I do not know how he is inscribed” (46). It could be argued that it is through the example of Christ that saints’ names took on so much importance, rather than through the desire to distinguish icons from talismanic magical images, as Maguire suggests.

The final chapter discusses modes of narrative in depictions of lives of saints, such as their appearances in vita icons. Here Maguire seeks to make similar distinctions to those in Chapter 2, though in this case he makes more use of the depiction of Christ. The main examples examined are a number of illustrated lives of St. Nicholas and St. George, but the Theotokos also is the subject of much discussion. Again Maguire links different forms of narrative to different readings. For example, he contrasts the abstract depiction of the life of St. Nicholas with the fuller, more emotive life of Christ, as exemplified in several Byzantine icons and wall painting cycles. Narrative is omitted in the saint’s life, he argues, to keep the image open to different interpretations by its audience, whereas the depiction of Christ’s life is more detailed in order to convey the complexity of the theology surrounding him. This argument works well for the picture program of the fourteenth-century Serbian church of Staro Nagoricino, whose analysis lies at the heart of this chapter. Here the differences between the life of St. Nicholas and that of Christ are stark. However, it is possible to question Maguire’s distinctions. On the one hand, paintings of saints’ lives that are much more detailed and emotive can be found, such as that of St. Gregory the Illuminator in the Armenian Church of Tigran Honents at Ani (1215), which leaves little room for open interpretations. On the other, the scenes from the life of Christ at the eleventh-century Monastery of Hosios Loukas in northern Greece are usually characterized as austere and minimalist. Are these distinctions to be explained by geography? (Is Caucasian art so different from that of western Byzantium?) Or by differences in date? Or is there more flexibility in the use of modes than Maguire allows?

The Icons of Their Bodies is handsomely produced and will be a useful discussion tool for undergraduates. The text is clearly laid out and the black-and-white illustrations are uniformly clear. Given the stress on color as a definer of meaning, it is a shame that no color images were included. The publishers should also be criticized for severely cropping some images, resulting in the loss of their most important features. Figure 163 is missing the edges of all the marginal scenes of the life of St. George; those in the upper register are totally unreadable.