Brynn Grossman
Frilingos’s analysis of the Book of Revelation goes beyond that of Koester and others, who label it as simply “resistance literature” (Frilingos 12). Koester noticed the functional purpose of the text as a message of condemnation and/or hope to its first century readers, and as a way to “influence the way his readers live in the present”, partially through depicting how not to act (Koester 162). Frilingos takes that idea a step further. He acknowledges the power of a comparison to the “other” for identity building (2), yet argues that at the same time, the text is a product of Roman culture and reflects many of its norms and values (5). And even that idea is further complicated through his picking apart of the masculine/feminine, powerful/powerless, and monster/martyr dichotomies, which are assumed to be static, but as Frilingos argues, they can overlap and mix together. That sounds really confusing; I’m not sure that I have any idea what I’m talking about. Well, furthermore, while Koester’s analysis treats Revelation as a simple guidebook, Frilingos sees the value of it in its ambiguities, and views it as a tool for self-mastery and self-definition, acknowledging that the path to ideal faith is a “great challenge” of one’s self-control.
Frilingos mainly focuses on the spectacle narrative of Revelation and its relationship to the “viewing culture” of the Roman Empire. The extraordinary characters and events of Revelation are meant to attract attention and shock the “extratextual audience”, either to challenge their strength to resist the power of the evil other, and also to scrutinize themselves (93). The textual spectators give clues as to how one should react to the story, revealing the right direction (59). But the extratextual audience, like everyone else (excluding God), is not only the viewer; they are also the objects of the gaze. Their power is never absolute, like that of the Emperor who is dependent on presenting himself as an example for the behavior of the entire empire (20). God’s power and his viewer-viewee ratio is totally unchangeable, setting him and his law far above the emperor and the rules of man.
Frilingos notes Philo’s belief, that there is a “link between the eyes and the soul” (39). Within the vast Empire of the first century, one can give a convincing or honorable performance, however that may be done, that person has the power to change his or her audience’s true feelings. Like the Emperor, who cannot control his subjects by force alone and must resort to propaganda and “producing knowledge” and psychological warfare, the Book of Revelation, the minority Christians and even God cannot physically force someone into honest faith and practice. With subtle guidance the Book of Revelation causes its readers to ask tough questions and grow from those experiences.
Frilingos’s analysis of the Book of Revelation goes beyond that of Koester and others, who label it as simply “resistance literature” (Frilingos 12). Koester noticed the functional purpose of the text as a message of condemnation and/or hope to its first century readers, and as a way to “influence the way his readers live in the present”, partially through depicting how not to act (Koester 162). Frilingos takes that idea a step further. He acknowledges the power of a comparison to the “other” for identity building (2), yet argues that at the same time, the text is a product of Roman culture and reflects many of its norms and values (5). And even that idea is further complicated through his picking apart of the masculine/feminine, powerful/powerless, and monster/martyr dichotomies, which are assumed to be static, but as Frilingos argues, they can overlap and mix together. That sounds really confusing; I’m not sure that I have any idea what I’m talking about. Well, furthermore, while Koester’s analysis treats Revelation as a simple guidebook, Frilingos sees the value of it in its ambiguities, and views it as a tool for self-mastery and self-definition, acknowledging that the path to ideal faith is a “great challenge” of one’s self-control.
Frilingos mainly focuses on the spectacle narrative of Revelation and its relationship to the “viewing culture” of the Roman Empire. The extraordinary characters and events of Revelation are meant to attract attention and shock the “extratextual audience”, either to challenge their strength to resist the power of the evil other, and also to scrutinize themselves (93). The textual spectators give clues as to how one should react to the story, revealing the right direction (59). But the extratextual audience, like everyone else (excluding God), is not only the viewer; they are also the objects of the gaze. Their power is never absolute, like that of the Emperor who is dependent on presenting himself as an example for the behavior of the entire empire (20). God’s power and his viewer-viewee ratio is totally unchangeable, setting him and his law far above the emperor and the rules of man.
Frilingos notes Philo’s belief, that there is a “link between the eyes and the soul” (39). Within the vast Empire of the first century, one can give a convincing or honorable performance, however that may be done, that person has the power to change his or her audience’s true feelings. Like the Emperor, who cannot control his subjects by force alone and must resort to propaganda and “producing knowledge” and psychological warfare, the Book of Revelation, the minority Christians and even God cannot physically force someone into honest faith and practice. With subtle guidance the Book of Revelation causes its readers to ask tough questions and grow from those experiences.