Jerome Jacobson
Frilingos’ rehearsal of scholarship is a bit confusing at first, especially since I had little prior experience with “postcolonial methodology.” One aspect of Frilingos’ approach is crystal clear in that he does not wish contest or disprove the existing scholarship on the appeal of revelation. He does not argue against the theories that apocalyptic elements were an integral component of early Christianity, but he does contest that these are the only elements that matter for grasping the appeal of Revelation (6). To put forth his argument, he calls on the theoretical insights of Foucault, Said, and Bhabha. Foucault argues that power does not proceed top down, but is relational and established through discourse (9). Said uses much of Foucault’s concepts on discourse in his study of the effects of representation in the context of imperialism. The important aspect that Frilingos draws from these postcolonial theorists is the questioning of cultural authority. “What produces, what counts for, and what sanctions knowledge in a given society?” (11). Frilingos calls upon Bhabha to show that the relationship between the dominant and subaltern is interdependent, and that this relationship has a fragmenting effect on the identities of both.
As we have discussed before in this class, Rome was an extremely visual empire. The joke has been made that one couldn’t walk five feet in first century Rome without being exposed to some form of propaganda or visual image. Frilingos asserts the constant interaction with these visual images has a direct relationship with identity in the Roman Empire. One example he gives is the Ara Pacis, and how its images enforce the paterfamilias mentality. The babies on the south face of the frieze represent the subjects of the paternalistic empire, and Augustus is the fatherly example to be looked up to (21). In this way the Ara Pacis “produced” the knowledge that Roman citizens are part of a large scale paternalistic relationship. Frilingos enforces this theme of visually produced knowledge by describing the physical images in the Sebasteion at Aphrodisias. Even though the viewer didn’t have explicit knowledge about the places depicted in the images at the temple, the imperial shrine produced knowledge of the unknown for the audience, trading on the compelling strangeness of outlandish people (26).
Frilingos makes an interesting observation throughout the chapter that there is a constant shifting relationship of viewer to viewed, and back to viewer again (21). The importance of this observation stems from Foucault’s theory that power relations are never given and set in stone, but are rather active discourses. Roman citizens viewed the example of their emperor, but in turn the become the spectacle by whether or not they live out that example in their own life.
Frilingos’ rehearsal of scholarship is a bit confusing at first, especially since I had little prior experience with “postcolonial methodology.” One aspect of Frilingos’ approach is crystal clear in that he does not wish contest or disprove the existing scholarship on the appeal of revelation. He does not argue against the theories that apocalyptic elements were an integral component of early Christianity, but he does contest that these are the only elements that matter for grasping the appeal of Revelation (6). To put forth his argument, he calls on the theoretical insights of Foucault, Said, and Bhabha. Foucault argues that power does not proceed top down, but is relational and established through discourse (9). Said uses much of Foucault’s concepts on discourse in his study of the effects of representation in the context of imperialism. The important aspect that Frilingos draws from these postcolonial theorists is the questioning of cultural authority. “What produces, what counts for, and what sanctions knowledge in a given society?” (11). Frilingos calls upon Bhabha to show that the relationship between the dominant and subaltern is interdependent, and that this relationship has a fragmenting effect on the identities of both.
As we have discussed before in this class, Rome was an extremely visual empire. The joke has been made that one couldn’t walk five feet in first century Rome without being exposed to some form of propaganda or visual image. Frilingos asserts the constant interaction with these visual images has a direct relationship with identity in the Roman Empire. One example he gives is the Ara Pacis, and how its images enforce the paterfamilias mentality. The babies on the south face of the frieze represent the subjects of the paternalistic empire, and Augustus is the fatherly example to be looked up to (21). In this way the Ara Pacis “produced” the knowledge that Roman citizens are part of a large scale paternalistic relationship. Frilingos enforces this theme of visually produced knowledge by describing the physical images in the Sebasteion at Aphrodisias. Even though the viewer didn’t have explicit knowledge about the places depicted in the images at the temple, the imperial shrine produced knowledge of the unknown for the audience, trading on the compelling strangeness of outlandish people (26).
Frilingos makes an interesting observation throughout the chapter that there is a constant shifting relationship of viewer to viewed, and back to viewer again (21). The importance of this observation stems from Foucault’s theory that power relations are never given and set in stone, but are rather active discourses. Roman citizens viewed the example of their emperor, but in turn the become the spectacle by whether or not they live out that example in their own life.