The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part I – Drama and Actors in Ancient Rome

Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!

At long last, we’re back with another ‘World of’ blog series! We know that most of you really do enjoy these deep dives into the research related to each of our books, so we’re happy to get stuck in!

If the title of this blog wasn’t a giveaway, this new blog series is about the research for our newest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

In this blog series, we’ll be releasing a new post every two weeks or so on a wide range of topics related to theatre, humour, festivals, healing, playwrights and actors, and more. We do hope you enjoy it!

And now, without further ado, let’s step into The World of Sincerity is a Goddess!

In this first post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at drama and actors in the world of ancient Rome. Both, of course, are central to Sincerity is a Goddess. 

Let’s start with a look at the evolution of drama in Rome.

Life is like a play in the theatre: it does not matter how long it lasts, but how well it was played.

Seneca

There are many different forms of literary arts today, just as there were in ancient Rome. Actually, in Rome, no matter the literary form, there was something for everyone. You didn’t even have to be able to read to enjoy literature of a sort.

Literary sources that we know of from the world of ancient Rome include such things as histories, speeches, poems, plays, practical manuals, law books and biographies, treatises and personal letters.

More often than not, authors in ancient Rome were well-educated and even very wealthy, and as a result, the opinions often expressed in literature reflected the values of the upper classes either because the authors were of that class themselves, or because they were patronized by the wealthy.

The main types or classifications of literature were drama, poetry, prose and satire. Though much was written in each of these areas in ancient Rome, in some cases, very little has survived, which makes this a sort of tragedy in and of it self. For the purposes of this post, we’re going to be taking a look at drama.

An array of Greek theatre masks

Drama is central to Sincerity is a Goddess. It was performed in Rome since before the 3rd century B.C., and these early performances took the form of mimes, dances, and farces.

One example of these early forms of drama were the fabula atellana which originated in the town Atella. These were a collection of vulgar farces that contained a lot of low or buffoonish comedy and rude jokes. They were often improvised by the actors who wore masks.

Mimes were very similar and were dramatic performances by men and women that were more licentious in nature. They were highly popular, especially with the lower classes, but they have also been accused of being the cause of the decline of comedy in ancient Rome. By the early sixth century A.D. they were banned or suppressed.

Roman Theatre in Orange (Wikimedia Commons)

When we think of ancient theatre, however, we cannot help but think first of ancient Greek drama, which was an art form in the lands of the Hellenes long before Romans began producing Latin literature. And like so many other things, the Romans adopted forms of drama from the Greeks as well, especially drama in the form of plays.

Greek ‘New Comedy’ was introduced in Latin in Rome around 240 B.C. by Livius Andonicus and Naevius, and shortly afterward, Greek plays were being adapted by Terence, Caecilus Statius and of course, Plautus, whose early works are the oldest Latin literary works to survive in their entirety. We’ll talk more about the latter later in this blog series. These plays were called fabulae palliatae, or ‘plays in Greek cloaks’.

However, Latin drama had begun to evolve out of this, and soon there emerged the fabulae togatae, or ‘plays in togas’, which were comic plays about Italian life and Italian characters. Sadly, there are no surviving examples of these early Latin comedies.

Surprisingly, by the first century B.C., Roman comic plays pretty much ceased to be written and were replaced by mime which was much more vulgar and thought by many to be of little literary merit. 

Illustration of Roman mime performance

Other fabulae were introduced by Livius Andronicus, including the fabula crepidata which was a Roman tragedy on a Greek theme, and the fabula praetexta which was a Roman drama based on a historical or legendary theme.

The latter, a form invented by Naevius, gained little popularity in Rome, and by the late Republican era, tragedy in general began to decline. There was a short revival under Augustus, but it did not last, and there are no surviving works of Roman tragedy that come down to us.

It seems the Romans would have leaned more toward Dumb and Dumber than Romeo and Juliet

One theory about the lack of survival of tragedy in ancient Rome is that under the Empire, it was difficult to choose a safe subject. 

But what about actors in ancient Rome, the people who performed before the masses in the streets, on temple steps, or in the great theatres that later adorned cities across the Empire?

Generally, actors were among the lowest on the social scale, the same as gladiators or prostitutes. People enjoyed their performances, and sometimes looked upon them with awe, but they were often kept at a distance for propriety sake. However, some actors were so famous that women, of high and low origin, had affairs with them, not unlike famous gladiators.

This is in contrast somewhat to how it was in ancient Greece where the creation of drama and acting were admired, well-respected.

In the world of ancient Rome, most actors were frowned upon, despite their ability to amuse the people. In truth, the majority of actors were either slaves or freedmen, a very few of which went on to achieve fame, respect, and personal fortune. Most of them likely performed in the lewd mimes favoured by the masses.

That said, a good pantomime slave actor could cost as much as 700,000 sestercii! And it is believed that many pantomime actors may have received training in dance, poetry, and even mythology, the stories of which they sometimes performed.

A famous Roman actor during the reign of Emperor Augustus, known as Pylades, accumulated so much wealth that he was able to produce his own plays. Despite their low social standing, a few actors could indeed be paid very well. In fact, it came to be such a problem that the Emperor Marcus Aurelius put a legal maximum on actor salaries.

Actor and Mask from a Fresco at Pompeii (Wikimedia Commons)

There were companies of actors who moved about, usually performing at games, or ludi, in Rome and across the Empire. A company of actors, or a grex, was led by the dominus gregis, the leader and owner of the company. This person was likely a freedman who went on to have some success.

Despite the lack of respect for the actors themselves, they did have an association of theatrical authors and actors in ancient Rome known as the Collegium Scribarum Histrionumque whose patron goddess was Minerva. This was perhaps similar to modern organizations such as Actors Equity Association in the US, or the Association of Canadian Cinema Television and Radio Artists (ACTRA).

Acting in Rome was different than it was in the world of ancient Greece. We have already mentioned the general lack of respect toward the acting profession in Rome compared with Greece where there were festivals with prizes such as the Dionysia and Panathenaea at Athens, and even the Pythian Games at Delphi.

However, in ancient Greece, women were strictly barred from performing on stage. It was a man’s world with men performing the roles of female characters. It was seen as dangerous to have a woman on stage.

This carried over into early drama in the Roman world, influenced as it was by Greek tradition. Over time however, women were permitted to perform on Roman stages. At first, their roles were limited to performing in mimes or pantomimes as part of the chorus or as dancers.

Eventually, female actors began to take on greater roles in Roman drama, some of them becoming so famous that they were permitted to perform in the great theatres of Rome and across the Empire.

Such actresses were known as archimimae, or leading ladies, and some of their names have come down to us.

One incredible example is the actress Licinia Eucharis, a Greek-born slave who was so talented that she went on to earn her freedom and be allowed to perform Greek dramas upon the great stages of Rome before the nobles. And this was during the Roman Republic! Quite a feat! Eucharis amassed great wealth from her acting alone.

Another example of an actress who achieved fame as an archimima, this time during the imperial period, was the actress Fabia Arete. She was a freedwoman who was also a diuma, that is, a leading actress who toured and was invited to perform in different places because of her great skill.

Though there are examples of male and, more rarely, female actors achieving great fame, wealth, and respect in ancient Rome, most actors struggled and were relegated to the makeshift wooden stages that they erected in the streets, or upon temple steps, performing lewd mimes for the people who might have tossed a coin their way.

Being an actor was not an easy life, to be sure.

Perhaps it isn’t so different from today?

Sure, there are actors and actresses who achieve fame and accumulate massive amounts of wealth in the modern age, but the reality is that most performers (actors, dancers, musicians, and writers) struggle to make a living.

One thing does seem apparent when it comes to actors in ancient Rome, and that is that this was a time when women in the profession experienced some ascendency, between the strict rules of the ancient Greek theatre world which banned them, and the Medieval Christian era that seemed intent on demonizing them and, once again, banned from the stage.

Despite its shortcomings, the world of ancient Rome seemed to have been a bright spot, in a sense, in the historical timeline. However, when it came to actors, people admired them for their skill and performance, but perhaps mostly from a distance. It was, after all, a world that was foreign to most.

Thank you for reading.

Roman Actors from Fresco at Herculaneum (Wikimedia Commons)

We hope that you’ve enjoyed this short post on drama and actors in ancient Rome. There is a lot more to learn on this subject, so if you want to read more, Professor Edith Hall at Durham University, a leading expert on the subject, has kindly made her books on ancient theatre freely available to the public. You can check them out HERE.

You can also learn more about other types of Roman literature in our popular post Literature in Ancient Rome by CLICKING HERE.

There are a lot more posts coming in The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, so make sure that you are subscribed to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing Newsletter so that you don’t miss any of them. When you subscribe you get the first book in our #1 best selling Eagles and Dragons series for FREE!

Stay tuned for the next post in this series in which we’ll be looking at theatres in ancient Rome.

Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.

CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN# information for the edition of your choice.

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

 

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NEW RELEASE! – Sincerity is a Goddess

Salvete, Readers and Romanophiles!

Today, we’re thrilled to announce the release of our newest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

It has been a little over a year since the research and writing started on this book and it has been, it must be said, an adventure of hilarity and discovery as we have delved into the world of Roman humour, theatre, and all that makes ancient Rome so gritty and beautiful.

True, this is a bit of a departure from our regular tales of battle and blood, but it is no less filled with drama. In fact, drama is what this story is all about, as well as friendship, love, misunderstandings and second chances.

There is a lot going on in the world right now to bring us down, and this book is partially intended to be an antidote to that. Those who have read it thus far have said it is truly one of our best stories so far.

Fans of the Eagles and Dragons series should not despair either, for Sincerity is a Goddess is set in the familiar world of ancient Rome during the year 203 CE, around the time of Septimius Severus’ triumph and the subsequent Games of Apollo. This is same period as Children of Apollo, Book I in the Eagles and Dragons series and, just for fans of the latter, there are several ‘Easter eggs’ dotted throughout this latest book.

We’re so very excited to share this with you, so, without further ado, here is the cover and synopsis for Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

Mortals perform a never-ending show for the Gods, and Felix Modestus, leader of the renowned Etrurian Players, feels their immortal eyes rest upon him at last.

When a mysterious goddess tells Felix that he must put on a play unlike any seen before across the Roman Empire, he quickly rallies his company to the task and heads to Rome for the Games of Apollo. However, there is a catch: the goddess demands that Felix recruit his two estranged best friends to the production.

Rufio Pagano and Clara Probita once shared Felix’s dream of theatrical greatness, but due to embarrassment and inaction, they left Felix to achieve that dream on his own. When each of them receives a mysterious letter from their old friend pleading for their help, a world of long-buried feelings brings discomfort to their stolid lives.

Will The Etrurian Players be able to give the Gods and the people of Rome a magnificent show in order to save themselves from ruin? Will Rufio and Clara pluck up the courage to face their own fears? If they don’t, Felix stands to lose his company, his friends, and the life he loves so very much!

Only with a little help from the Gods can they hope to achieve the greatness that lies within each of them.

Sincerity is a Goddess is the first book in The Etrurian Players series. It is a heartwarming story of friendship and love that takes you on a bawdy and hilarious journey through the world of ancient Rome.

If you like dramatic and romantic stories about second chances, misunderstandings, and a bit with a dog, then you will love Sincerity is a Goddess!

Read this book today for a theatrical adventure that will have you cringing, laughing, crying, and realizing that there is indeed hope for everyone. Well, almost everyone…

There you have it! Our latest adventure in the world of ancient Rome!

We do hope that you enjoy it, and that it brings you some comic relief in these dark times. It certainly did for us in the research and writing, such that the catharsis of it all was extremely refreshing.

Sincerity is a Goddess is available through all of the usual on-line stores in e-book and paperback HERE.

We are also thrilled to announce that this will also be our first title available in hardcover! The design team has created a beautiful jacketed hardcover book with lots of beautiful design elements to surprise and delight. If you are interested in getting one, you can do so by going to your local independent book store, chain store, or public library with the ISBN# (you can get that at the bottom of the page HERE) and asking them to order you a copy. All Eagles and Dragons Publishing paperback and hardcover titles are available through the Ingram catalogue.

We do hope you enjoy this latest adventure in ancient Rome!

Stay tuned for our upcoming blog series The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, which will be starting very soon!

In the meantime, we appreciate you, and we thank you for reading.

 

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New Video Premiere! – Roman Florence: A Short Walking Tour

Salvete Romanophiles!

Today we’re excited to share a brand new mini documentary with you.

Most of us know the city of Florence as the birthplace of the Renaissance, an age that was the genesis for some of the greatest works of art in human history.

It really is one of the most beautiful, exciting and inspiring cities in the world!

This past May, I had the chance to go back to Florence after twenty years and it was, as expected, an absolute dream.

However, this time, we were seeing it from a different perspective…a more ancient perspective.

Did you know that Florence actually has Roman origins, and that it was established by Julius Caesar around 59 B.C.?

It’s true! You can read all about the Roman origins of Florence or, rather, Florentia, in the blog post Florentia: The Roman Origins of Florence by CLICKING HERE.

Though many of the Roman ruins of Florence were still closed due to the pandemic when we were there, we were still able to walk about what was the legionary fortress and the ghostly shadow of the colonia of Florentia beneath our feet.

We do hope you enjoy this latest video Roman Florence: A Short Walking Tour

Be sure to subscribe to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel so you don’t miss any more videos about history, archaeology, Greek and Roman Mythology and more.

Thank you for watching, and thank you for reading!

 

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New Video! – The Ancient Citadel of Tiryns

Greetings History-Lovers!

After a bit of a summer break, we’re back on the blog, and today we’ve got something exciting for you – a video premiere!

Some of you may have noticed on our social media accounts that we were fortunate enough to go back to Greece this summer. Amidst the pleasant chaos of visiting with family and friends we had not seen in over three years, we did manage to squeeze in a visit to a particularly wonderful archaeological site: Tiryns.

It had been about twenty years since the last time we visited this Mycenaean fortress of myth and legend, and so, armed with some new camera equipment (much gratitude to our Patreon patrons!), we were able to film a short tour of the citadel of ancient Tiryns!

We’re very excited to share this video with you.

It was wonderful to go back to this archaeological site, even on a day where it was 45 degrees celsius and the cicadas were so loud it was almost deafening!

Having already seen this site, we found that it was just as magical and awe-inspiring now as it was twenty years ago with the dry heat, the golden stones of the cyclopean walls, and the brilliant turquoise expanse of the Gulf of Argos before the distant mountains of the Peloponnese.

It was also good to see that the restoration work has come a very long way, allowing us access to areas we could not see previously, though the famed ‘East Galleria’ was sadly closed to our cameras.

The East Galleria

For those who would like to learn all about the history and mythology of Tiryns, be sure to check out our previous blog post Tiryns: Mycenaean Stronghold and Place of Legend.

It is also worth noting that Tiryns is also one of the major settings in Book 4 of the Mythologia series, The Reluctant Hero: The Story of Bellerophon and the Chimera, which you can check out HERE.

And so, without further ado, Eagles and Dragons Publishing presents our newest mini documentary The Ancient Citadel of Tiryns: A Short Tour.

We hope you enjoy it!

Be sure to subscribe to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel so that you don’t miss any new releases.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for watching.

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Revisiting the Etruscan Tomb of Montecalvario

It is no secret that one of my favourite places in the world is Tuscany. There are many reasons for this, including the pace of life, the wine, the food, the people and, of course, the idyllic countryside.

There is also the history and archaeology.

Over the years I have dearly missed Tuscany, especially in the dark days of a long, Canadian winter. I’ve often found myself longing for its rolling hills and spear-thrusting cypresses in a world exploding with colour and light.

This land has been a big part of my life, and the setting for many of my books.

Recently, I was blessed enough to be able to go back to Tuscany after twenty years away, and I was reminded once more why I love it so.

In this blog post, I want to share a bit about my return visit to one site in particular: the Etruscan tomb of Montecalvario.

One of the four entrances to the tomb of Montecalvario

For fans of the Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series, this particular tomb was the inspiration for Metellus family tomb which plays such an important and mysterious role in the books.

The first time I visited this archaeological site, hidden away on a lonely road outside of Castellina in Chianti, I knew right away that I wanted to use it in the novels.

Little did I know, how much of an inspiration it would be!

Adam going into the Etruscan tomb at Castellina in Chianti 20 years ago!

Before I get into my return visit, let’s briefly discuss the site.

As many of you know, Tuscany, or rather Etruria, is named for the Etruscans, the ancient people who lived and ruled there long before the Romans dominated the Italian mainland. I won’t go into the history of the Etruscan here, but you can read the full blog post entitled The Elusive Etruscans for a brief history of that fascinating people.

Tuscany is full of Etruscan archaeological sites that you can explore, including countless tombs, large and small.

The tomb of Montecalvario is one of them.

It is located in the province of Siena, on the outskirts of Castellina in Chianti, one of the main towns of the Chianti Classico wine region, on the road between Poggibonsi and Radda, the latter being the heart of Chianti Classico.

Chianti Classico region with Castellina in Chianti and Montecalvario in the top left corner (from site interpretation)

The hill of Montecalvario is actually named for a Christian chapel that had been built on top of the hill in the Middle Ages which was the last stop on the Via Crucis, or the ‘Way of the Cross’, the ‘Mount of Calvary’ being the site of Christ’s cruxifixction, but also the final stop for pilgrims along this particular trail.

The chapel is gone now, the remains of this majestic tomb visible once more.

The hill under which the tomb is located is more than fifty meters wide, and was actually discovered by accident in the early 19th century.

Historic photo of discovery of tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

What was revealed was an imposing Etruscan funerary monument made up of four chambers aligned with the cardinal directions. Each of the main burial chambers was reached by its own corridor or dromos (Greek for ‘road’) which was flanked by other, small rooms, with the South and West tombs having a more complex, three-chamber layout.

Layout of the tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

Archaeologists believed the tomb had already been looted by the time it was discovered, but the robbers did not get everything. There were fragments of gold, bronze, iron, bone and ivory scattered about, believed to have been from caskets or urns that had been buried there. In addition, there were the remnants of metal objects, including parts from two chariots and sheets with decorated reliefs on wood panels, also thought to be from the chariots.

Recreated chariot using finds from the tomb (from site interpretation)

Due to the monumental size of this tomb, and the hint of grave goods that the archaeological finds provide, it is believed that this may have been a princely tomb for members of the ruling families of this region around the seventh and sixth centuries B.C.

Artist Impression of Tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

So what was it like to return to this land, this place, after twenty years, after writing about it and imagining it many times over so that it took on a life of its own in my fiction?

It was like walking through a dream.

We had set out early that morning from our agriturismo accommodation south of Siena (under which was an Etruscan tomb!) to drive over the forested hills to the soaring Etruscan fortress town of Volterra, to the southwest of San Gimignano. It was a long, beautiful drive over winding roads across the Tuscan landscape, but the view from Volterra’s heights were well worth it.

View from the heights of the Etruscan fortress of Volterra

If you ever go to Tuscany, do so in the Spring when the weather is not too hot and the landscape is supremely green and dotted with myriad brilliant poppies bobbing their delicate heads. It is a world bursting with life when Springtime asserts itself for a few weeks before the world turns dry and brown.

From Volterra, we set out on the winding road through the Chianti region, that rich and fertile land over which Florence and Siena fought so viciously during the Middle Ages.

When one thinks of Tuscany, it is difficult not to think of rolling, grassy hills, of lanes and roads dotted with sentry cypresses, but when you come to the Chianti Classico region, you are met with an often steep and mountainous terrain covered in forests where boar and deer roam, and between the hills are smaller valleys in which ancient vines are grown alongside groves of olive.

A view of the Chianti hills

I had forgotten how thickly-forested Tuscany could be, and I was happy to be reminded as we drove past the many-towered settlement of San Gimignano in search of Castellina in Chianti and the tomb that had been such an inspiration years before.

As we drove into the Chianti Classico region in search of the tomb, the sky turned dark and a storm threatened us with black clouds and flashes of angry lightning in every direction.

It was quite a change from the hot and sunny heights of Volterra.

From the fortress town of Monteriggioni, we headed northwest through the storm to Castellina in Chianti, passing the headquarters of wineries whose names were warm and familiar to us, even in Canada.

At last, with a pause in the rain, we arrived in Castellina in Chianti, searching for signs to the tomb that seemed to elude even our car’s GPS and Siri herself.

Castellina in Chianti with the Medieval tower to the right.

After taking the wrong road, and having to turn back, we finally arrived at the small parking lot for the tomb of Montecalvario, located on a hill opposite the small 14th century castle from which the town gets its name.

There was no one else around when we parked and began the short walk up the road to the tomb’s entrance. The sky was still dark in places, and a chorus of thunder continued to rumble in the background.

I felt strange walking up the path to the tomb, almost like my character, Lucius Metellus Anguis, when he returns to the family estate after many years away.

Watch out for snakes! Adam heading into the tomb…

Make no mistake… This Tuscan experience is far different from the Renaissance grandeur of Florence. In the countryside, you step back in time. Beyond the occasional passing car on the road below, all I could hear was the distant thunder, the crunch of my boots on the path, birdsong and the beating of my heart.

As I did years before, I wondered again about the people who had built this tomb high on a hill, about the rituals they might have performed for the dead. If you block out the sound of cars, you can almost hear weeping or prayers to the gods on the air.

I spent more time exploring and documenting the tomb of Montecalvario this time. I headed farther into the tomb than I had dared previously, trying to ignore the fact that snakes could have been hiding within (there weren’t any that I could see, thankfully!).

One of the inner chambers

While in the tomb, I was reminded of the fiction I have created around this place, and it came to life in my mind as though it had all really occurred there.

That was, admittedly, a very strange feeling, and one that made me somewhat melancholy. But such is the way of things when you visit realms of the dead. There is a sadness, a thick nostalgia in the air, and I felt both of those acutely as I roamed about the Metellus family tomb of my books.

The largest of the inner chambers

After absorbing the site, and taking all of the pictures and video I had planned on taking, it was time to leave that cypress-crowned tumulus.

I walked back down the long path with an occasional backward glance over my shoulder as if bidding farewell to a friend I did not know if I would see again.

Then, it was out of site, and the sky cleared a little over the Tuscan hills as we got back in our modern chariot to wend our way through that ancient land to Radda, our next stop along the way.

It was good to revisit the tomb of Montecalvario after so many years and, despite the myriad joys of our wondrous, ten-day Tuscan interlude, reconnecting with this inspiring place was certainly one of the highlights.

Thank you for reading.

Standing at the top of the tomb.

If you enjoyed this post, you will definitely want to check out the mini-documentary I filmed at this archaeological site of Montecalvario. Just click the YouTube video below on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel to watch it.

For those of you who are interested in starting the #1 best selling Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series, you can get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for FREE by clicking HERE. The tomb of Montecalvario figures largely in the book.

We hope you enjoy the book and the video, The Etruscan Tomb of Montecalvario: A Short Tour below:

 

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Ancient Everyday: Celebrating Birthdays in Ancient Rome

Salvete Romanophiles!

After a long hiatus from this blog series, we’re finally back with a new Ancient Everyday post!

As my own birthday approaches, I thought it would be fun to explore this topic on the blog. So, we’re going to be taking a brief look at how they celebrated birthdays in ancient Rome!

Let’s party!

Roman dinner party

The celebration of birthdays was different in ancient Greece compared to the world of Rome. In ancient Greece, the individual’s birthday was not celebrated so much as the monthly birthday of the various gods the Greeks worshipped. Even today in Greece, the celebration of ‘name days’, that is, the saints’ days, is more widespread.

People may forget a birthday, but everyone remembers a name day!

However, apart from the religious connection, the celebration of birthdays in ancient Rome was quite different to that in ancient Greece.

So, what about birthdays in ancient Rome? Did they celebrate them?

The short answer is, ‘yes’, they did.

Birthdays, or dies natales, were indeed important celebrations.

But how did they celebrate? What did they do to celebrate? Did they give gifts?

The Roman Forum (by Becchetti)

In ancient Rome there were, in fact, two types of birthday celebrations: public and private.

Public birthdays were celebrations in honour of particular gods or the founding of temples or cults dedicated to those gods. There were also celebrations of the birthdays of cities.

For the present, though I believe everything finds its way to you in the letters of your friends, or even by messengers and rumour, yet I will write briefly what I think you would like to learn from my letters above all others. On the 4th of August I started from Dyrrachium, the very day on which the law about me was carried. I arrived at Brundisium on the 5th of August. There my dear Tulliola met me on what was her own birthday, which happened also to be the name-day of the colony of Brundisium and of the temple of Salus, near your house. This coincidence was noticed and celebrated with warm congratulations by the citizens of Brundisium.

(Cicero, Letter LXXXIX (a iv,1) To Atticus) 

The above quote from Cicero’s letter to his friend, Atticus, is said to be one of the earliest known mentions of the natales of cities and temples, in this case the celebration of the Roman temple of Salus, the Goddess of Safety and Welfare, and the city of Brundisium, both of which are celebrated on the exact same day as his own daughter’s birthday.

We will talk about private birthdays shortly, but it is important to note that because Roman religion had so many deities, genii and numina (spirits) etc. to be honoured, it was common to have one’s private birthday on the same days as those public birthdays.

Some examples of major public birthdays included the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, the birthday of the Unconquerable Sun, around December the 25th, and the Dies Natalis Urbis Romae, the birthday of the founding of the city of Rome, on April the 21st, an event which is still celebrated today as the Natale di Roma with a parade, games and other events.

Natale di Roma parade (photo: Giampiero Giustarini)

In 2022, Rome will be celebrating its 2775th birthday. Happy Birthday Roma!

During the Principate, or the imperial period, another form of public birthday was the annual celebration of the birthdays of emperors and imperial family members, past and present. During these celebrations, the public made offerings and carried out rituals to commemorate their imperial overlords, or the days of their accession to the throne. The latter celebrations were known as the natales imperii.

Relief of Emperor Hadrian being greeted by the Goddess Roma and Genii of the Senate

Come, let pious Rome mark the birthday of eloquent Restitutus: Let every tongue be reverent; let all prayers be favourable. We are performing birthday rites; let litigation cease.

(Martial, Epigrams 10.87.1-4)

Unlike today, it seems that religion and birthdays were inevitably linked in the world of ancient Rome. Individuals, and their celebrants, commemorated the anniversary of the religious cult or genius with which their birthday was associated.

Good Genius, take the incense willingly, and willingly grant his prayers, so long as he burns when he thinks of me. But if by any chance he now sighs over another love, then, holy one, desert the faithless altar, I pray.

(Albius Tibullus,  4.5.9-12)

It really was an interesting commingling of religion and celebration.

But what about private birthday celebrations? Were they very different from today?

In some ways yes, and in other ways not so much.

Obviously, for most people today, religious rituals, such as those described above, are absent from the average birthday celebration.

However, when it came to the private birthday celebrations of men and women, family members and friends, there are some things which we have in common with the Romans.

A Cake for an Emperor!
(This is an actual cake created by talented Athenian artist Anne Maria Papadeli. Check out her work on Instagram @anne_marie_papadeli )

In ancient Rome, especially among the wealthy, those for whom we have sources, banquets were held and gifts were given. The Roman playwright, Terence, even describes how costly gift-giving could be! The servant, Davus, speaks:

Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small account; he asked me to make it up. I have done so, and am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master’s son has taken a wife; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present for her. How unfair a custom!—that those who have the least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! That which the poor wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce by ounce, out of his allowance, defrauding himself of every indulgence, the whole of it will she carry off, without thinking with how much labor it has been acquired. And then besides, Geta will be struck for another present when his mistress is brought to bed; and then again for another present, when the child’s birthday comes; when they initiate him, too: all this the mother will carry off; the child will only be the pretext for the present.

(Terence, Phormio, Act I, Scene I)

There were likely a wide range of gifts, depending on the class and financial status of the individuals in question. This would have been a similar situation to Saturnalia and the giving of sigillaria during those ‘best of days’ in the Roman calendar.

Private birthdays in ancient Rome, it seems, could be quite as important to individuals, and those who cared for them, as they are today. Perhaps even more so because of the religious connection. The Gods were watching!

Here is a wonderful quote from the poet, Sextus Propertius, who wrote a love poem describing his hopes for the birthday of the object of his love and affection, Cynthia:

I wondered what the Muses had sent me, at dawn, standing by my bed in the reddening sunlight. They sent a sign it was my girl’s birthday, and clapped their hands three times for luck. Let this day pass without a cloud, let winds still in the air, threatening waves fall gently on dry land. Let me see no one sad today: let Niobe’s rock itself suppress its tears. Let the halcyons’ cries be silent, leaving off their sighing, and Itys’s mother not call out his loss.

And oh, you, my dearest girl, born to happy auguries, rise, and pray to the gods who require their dues. First wash sleep away with pure water, and dress your shining hair with deft fingers. Then wear those clothes that first charmed Propertius’ eyes, and never let your brow be free of flowers.

And ask that the beauty that is your power may always be yours, and your command over my person might last forever. Then when you’ve worshipped with incense at wreathed altars, and their happy flames have lit the whole house, think of a feast, and let the night fly by with wine, and let the perfumed onyx anoint my nostril with oil of saffron. Submit the strident flute to nocturnal dancing, and let your wantonness be free with words, and let sweet banqueting stave off unwelcome sleep, and the common breeze of the neighbouring street be full of the sound.

And let fate reveal to us, in the falling dice, those whom the Boy strikes with his heavy wings. When the hours have gone with many a glass, and Venus appoints the sacred rites that wait on night, let’s fulfil the year’s solemnities in our room, and so complete the journey of your natal day.

(Sextus Propertius, Elegies, Book III.10:1-32, Cynthia’s Birthday, trans. A.S. Kline)

Was Cynthia amused?

In fact, birthday poems, such as Propertius’ above, was a particular genre that emerged. Here is another example by Martial that speaks to the giving of gifts:

Let the hunter bring the hare, the farmer a young goat, the fisherman the spoils of the sea. if each one sends what he has, Restitutus, what do you think a poet with send to you?

(Martial, Epigrams, 10.87.17-20)

When it came to private birthdays, people celebrated with family and friends, and lovers.

They also celebrated the birthdays of their patrons, if they had any, and one such example comes to light in the form of a small ‘book’ that was given by the grammarian, Censorinus, to his patron, Quintus Caerellius, on the day of his birthday, c. A.D. 238.

But while other men honour only their own birthdays, yet I am bound every year by a double duty as regards this religious observance; for since it is from you and your friendship that I receive esteem, position, honour, and assistance, and in fact all the rewards of life, I consider it a sin if I celebrate your day, which brought you forth into this world for me, any less carefully than my own. For my own birthday gave me life, but yours has brought me the enjoyment and the rewards of life.

(Censorinus, De Die Natali 3.5-6)

It seems that one gave what one could, or was expert at, as birthday gifts.

However, though we know quite clearly that Romans celebrated birthdays, little is known of the actual practices on birthdays. What we do know is that birthdays were celebrated, gifts were given, and religious offerings were made in the household and at temples and shrines.

A sacrifice portrayed on a lararium, or family shrine, in Pompeii

Banquets or parties were also held. The same as today, various foods, cakes, and wine were also consumed as part of birthday celebrations.

Perhaps one of the most wonderful examples we have of a birthday celebration is from one of the Vindolanda tablets, found along Hadrian’s Wall, which is actually a most sincere birthday party invitation from one woman to another:

Vindolanda Tablet. 291. Birthday Invitation of Sulpicia Lepidina, (romaninscriptionsofbritain.org)

Claudia Severa to her Lepidina greetings. On 11 September, sister, for the day of the celebration of my birthday, I give you a warm invitation to make sure that you come to us, to make the day more enjoyable for me by your arrival, if you are present. Give my greetings to your Cerialis. My Aelius and my little son send him their greetings. I shall expect you, sister. Farewell, sister, my dearest soul, as I hope to prosper, and hail.

(Vindolanda tablet #291, Birthday Invitation of Sulpicia Lepidina)

This artifact gives us a tantalizing and intimate look at the the role of birthdays in ancient Rome, or in this case, at the very edge of the Empire.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of birthdays in ancient Rome, however, is the almost symbiotic relationship between religion and the celebration of birthdays.

The following is a beautiful quote from Ovid in which the poet describes his own birthday celebration with the pious offering of cakes and prayers.

Thou awaitest, I suppose, thine honour in its wonted guise: a white robe hanging from my shoulders, a smoking altar garlanded with chaplets, the grains of incense snapping in the holy fire, and myself offering the cakes that mark my birthday and framing kindly petitions with pious lips.

(Ovid, Tristia 3.13)

In the world of ancient Rome, celebrating one’s own, or someone else’s birthday was not just about receiving visitors and gifts, or giving gifts and partying with friends at an excellent convivium.

To celebrate one’s birthday, or the birthday of someone else, was also the undertaking of a religious obligation that was to be expressed every year, through rituals and offerings.

Birthday rituals emphasized piety and sincerity, acknowledged the genius or god of that day, and they affirmed the bond between the person whose birthday it was, and those who cared for them.

That was a beautiful thing.

Thank you for reading.

 

*If you would like to read more posts in our very popular Ancient Everyday blog series, CLICK HERE for a list!

**For a more in depth article on the subject check out Birthday Rituals: Friends and Patrons in Roman Poetry and Cult by Kathryn Argetsinger.

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Honouring Love: Festivals of the Goddess in Ancient Greece and Rome

It’s mid-February now, and with that comes the so-called celebration of love we know today as St. Valentine’s Day. Cards, flowers, and chocolates abound at this time of year. Hopefully there is some poetry too! But the commercialism of it all seems a little strange, doesn’t it? So much so that I know people who are holding ‘anti-Valentines’ celebrations, or ‘Galantines’ for the ladies. Can’t say as I blame them.

I wonder what Valentinus, Bishop of Terni (Interamna), the third century Roman saint for whom this modern celebration is named, would say? He was, after all, martyred in Rome, imprisoned and tortured to death in A.D. 269 and then hastily buried along the Via Flaminia on February the fourteenth. This, for trying to get the emperor to embrace Christianity, or so it is said in one Medieval chronicle.

St. Valentine became associated with courtly love, and was the patron of beekeepers and epilepsy.

I’m all for courtly love, but it does feel like we’ve somewhat lost the thread on they way to the modern age.

St. Valentinus

Our capacity for love, you might say, is one of our greatest attributes as a species, and so it is well-worth celebrating more than one day of the year.

Before celebrations of St. Valentine’s martyrdom on February the fourteenth, Love, the goddess, was celebrated in different ways and guises.

Today, we’re going to be taking a brief look at some of the ways Love was honoured in the worlds of ancient Greece and Rome.

There is a lot we do not know of religious practices in the ancient world. Oftentimes, sources are scanty and there was a lot of regional variation when it came to traditions and honouring the various epithets of gods or goddesses.

The Goddess of Love is no different.

Aphrodite (330–300 B.C.) Museum of Fine Arts, Boston

I will sing of stately Aphrodite, gold-crowned and beautiful, whose dominion is the walled cities of all sea-set Cyprus. There the moist breath of the western wind wafted her over the waves of the loud-moaning sea in soft foam, and there the gold-filleted Hours welcomed her joyously. They clothed her with heavenly garments: on her head they put a fine, well-wrought crown of gold, and in her pierced ears they hung ornaments of orichalc and precious gold, and adorned her with golden necklaces over her soft neck and snow-white breasts, jewels which the gold-filleted Hours wear themselves whenever they go to their father’s house to join the lovely dances of the gods. And when they had fully decked her, they brought her to the gods, who welcomed her when they saw her, giving her their hands. Each one of them prayed that he might lead her home to be his wedded wife, so greatly were they amazed at the beauty of violet-crowned Cytherea.

(Homeric Hymn 6, To Aphrodite)

When it comes to love in the world of ancient Greece, there was none other than the Olympian goddess of Love, Beauty, and Fertility: Aphrodite.

She was the epitome of beauty and desire and was worshipped throughout the Greek world, and even influenced her Roman counterpart, Venus. Some believe Aphrodite might have evolved herself from the Mesopotamian goddess of love, Ishtar. She was also associated with the Egyptian goddess, Isis.

In the Greek world, Aphrodite was mainly a goddess of sexual love, generation, and of fertility. However, she was also associated with vegetation, the sea and seafaring (due to her birth from the sea). She was the patron of prostitutes as well and was worshipped as such in ancient Corinth where there was a practice of sacred prostitution in the sanctuary. In that place, according to the Greco-Roman historian, Strabo, the temple prostitutes played a key role in any ceremonies or offerings to honour the goddess.

In Sparta, Cyprus, and the island of Cythera (a mythical birthplace of the goddess), Aphrodite was also worshipped as a goddess of war.

Aphrodite’s legendary birthplace in Paphos, Cyprus (Wikimedia Commons)

As with many gods and goddesses, Aphrodite had a wide array of epithets which reflected many different aspects and traditions. Apart from Love, Aphrodite was also known as Aligena (sea born), Urania (heavenly), Pandemios (popular), Area (armed for war, as consort of Ares), Kourotrophos (nurse), and Epipontia (on the sea).

Gods and goddesses often have symbols that are sacred to them as well. For Aphrodite, two things that were most often associated with her, sacred to her, were myrtle and the dove. The rose too, was sacred to her.

Myrtle, Doves, and Purple Violets

When it comes to specific celebrations in honour of the Goddess of Love in the Greek world, we actually know very little. What we do know with some certainty relates to the Attic festivals.

In the world of ancient Greece, some of the gods’ birthdays were actually celebrated once a month. In ancient Athens, Aphrodite’s birthday was celebrated on the fourth day of every month.

However, the main, annual festival that was held in honour of Aphrodite was the Aphrodisia.

This festival was held in several places, especially in Attica and on Cyprus, during the month of Hekatombaion (July/August). Aphrodite was also worshipped in Cythera, Sparta, Thebes, Delos, and Elis.

The Aphrodisia is specifically mentioned in the sources at Corinth and Athens where prostitutes honoured their patron goddess.

Courtesan and her client, c. 430 BC, National Archaeological Museum of Athens (Wikimedia Commons)

On the sacred island of Delos, the Aphrodisia apparently involved the purchase of ropes, torches and wood.

There are a few rituals around the Aphrodisia that are known to us. Firstly, it seems that temples of Aphrodite were purified with the blood of doves, the bird that was sacred to the goddess. After this, no blood sacrifices (usually male, white goats) were permitted during the festival. The preferred offerings were fire, flowers, and incense.

Celebrations of the Aphrodisia also included processions carrying images or statues of the goddess which were then washed with water. In Cyprus, one of her legendary birthplaces, initiates of the goddess’ mysteries were given salt from the sea, and bread shaped like a phallus.

Temple of Aphrodite, Aphrodisias, Caria (Wikimedia Commons)

Two aspects of Aphrodite indicate the different loves she represented to the Greeks. On the one hand, you had Aphrodite Urania who symbolized spiritual or celestial love. On the other hand, there was Aphrodite Pandemos. This love went beyond sex or romantic love. She represented earthly, non-spiritual love in that it was about civic and interpersonal harmony. 

It is believed that the worship of Aphrodite Pandemos was begun by Theseus, King of Athens, who founded her shrine in the agora of the city. In that place, the rituals, once again, included the sacrifice of doves and the washing of the goddess’ statues, but also the coating of the temple roof with pitch and, strangely, the purchase of purple cloth.

Surprisingly, Aphrodite seems to have had fewer festivals held in her honour, compared with her fellow Olympians. However, it would be a mistake to discount this goddess, for she was beautiful and powerful, and could bring as much devastation and she could joy and pleasure. The heroes at Troy could attest to that!

Venus de Milo (Louvre Museum)

Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,

Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars

Makest to teem the many-voyaged main

And fruitful lands- for all of living things

Through thee alone are evermore conceived,

Through thee are risen to visit the great sun-

Before thee, Goddess, and thy coming on,

Flee stormy wind and massy cloud away,

For thee the daedal Earth bears scented flowers,

For thee waters of the unvexed deep

Smile, and the hollows of the serene sky

Glow with diffused radiance for thee!

For soon as comes the springtime face of day,

And procreant gales blow from the West unbarred,

First fowls of air, smit to the heart by thee,

Foretoken thy approach, O thou Divine,

And leap the wild herds round the happy fields

Or swim the bounding torrents. Thus amain,

Seized with the spell, all creatures follow thee

Whithersoever thou walkest forth to lead,

And thence through seas and mountains and swift streams,

Through leafy homes of birds and greening plains,

Kindling the lure of love in every breast,

Thou bringest the eternal generations forth,

Kind after kind. And since ’tis thou alone

Guidest the Cosmos, and without thee naught

Is risen to reach the shining shores of light,

Nor aught of joyful or of lovely born,

Thee do I crave co-partner in that verse

Which I presume on Nature to compose

For Memmius mine, whom thou hast willed to be

Peerless in every grace at every hour-

Wherefore indeed, Divine one, give my words

Immortal charm. Lull to a timely rest

O’er sea and land the savage works of war,

For thou alone hast power with public peace

To aid mortality; since he who rules

The savage works of battle, powerful Mars,

How often to thy bosom flings his strength

O’ermastered by the eternal wound of love-

And there, with eyes and full throat backward thrown,

Gazing, my Goddess, open-mouthed at thee,

Pastures on love his greedy sight, his breath

Hanging upon thy lips. Him thus reclined

Fill with thy holy body, round, above!

Pour from those lips soft syllables to win

Peace for the Romans, glorious Lady, peace!

For in a season troublous to the state

Neither may I attend this task of mine

With thought untroubled, nor mid such events

The illustrious scion of the Memmian house

Neglect the civic cause.

(De Rerum Natura, Lucretius 1.1)

When it comes to the world of ancient Rome, the Goddess of Love seemed to hold more sway over the world than she might have done in ancient Greece.

In ancient Rome, Venus was not only the mother of Rome’s mythic founder, the Trojan Hero Aeneas, she was also venerated by some of the most powerful families in Rome’s history, such as the Julii, who claimed descent from her.

It is from the world of ancient Rome that some of the most beautiful words have been written about Love.

But who was the Goddess Venus, and how did she differ from her earlier, Greek counterpart?

Aphrodite and Anchises with baby Aeneas

In truth, Venus was closely aligned with Aphrodite. She even acquired the latter’s mythology such that the two became one over time.

However, before the Greek influence of Aphrodite, Venus was originally an Italic goddess of fertility, vegetable gardens, fruit, and flowers. This is not unlike the god Mars who was also, originally, a god of agriculture before he became the God of War. In Roman religion, Venus and Mars were also consorts, and came to represent the polar opposites of male and female.

Venus and Mars (mid-1st century CE) from a fresco at Pompeii (Wikimedia Commons)

Like Aphrodite, Venus too had many epithets highlighting the differing aspects of her which Romans worshipped. There was Venus Verticordia (Changer of Hearts), Venus Victrix (Venus Victorious), and Venus Genetrix (Universal Mother). There was also Venus Erycina, who was worshipped at two temples in Rome and was named after a sanctuary on Mount Eryx in Sicily. Her temples were frequented by prostitutes.

Venus Cloacina (Purifier) may have sprung from an earlier water deity, and her statue and shrine were dedicated at the end of the Sabine Wars on the spot where peace was concluded. Thereafter, ritual purifications took place there.

Venus Felix (Favourable) had one of the largest temples in Rome which was built by Hadrian. This was a large double-ended temple with two cellae opposite the Colosseum. It is known today as the temple of Venus and Rome, that is, the temple of Venus Felix and Roma Aeterna. 

Venus Libertina (Venus the Freedwoman) is another epithet of the goddess, though some scholars believe this has been confused with Libentina, which means ‘pleasurable’ or ‘passionate’.

Finally, Venus Obsequens refers to ‘Indulgent’ or ‘Gracious’ Venus whose temple was built after the Samnite Wars in c. 295 B.C. at the foot of the Aventine Hill, near the Circus Maximus.

If there was something you could say about the Romans, it is that they loved their festivals. And, unlike the Greeks who seem to have honoured love with just a couple festivals (that we know of) outside her monthly birthday celebrations, the Romans had a few occasions during the year when they honoured Venus.

The biggest festival in honour of Venus, and perhaps the one that you could say is a predecessor to Valentine’s Day, is Veneralia, the festival of Venus Verticordia, the ‘Changer of Hearts’. This festival took place on the Kalends of April (April 1st) and was, supposedly, marked by expressions of love, offerings to the goddess at her shrines and temples, and the ritual washing of the statues or images of Venus herself. The temple of Venus Verticordia in Rome was apparently built in 114 B.C. to atone for the unchastity of three Vestal Virgins who broke their vows.

Fresco from Pompeii

On April the twenty-third came the festival of Vinalia Priora to celebrate wine production. This festival was originally connected with Jupiter, the King of the Gods. However, Vinalia later came to be associated with Venus in her capacity as an agricultural deity or goddess of fertility.

Venus Victrix (Venus Victorious) was important to the Romans and, as such, she was honoured at two festivals in ancient Rome. The first on the calendar was held on the twelfth day of August. This was held from 55 B.C. when the temple of Venus Victrix, built atop the new theatre of Pompey, was dedicated by Pompey Magnus himself. Venus Victrix was also celebrated at another festival on the ninth of October.

Theatre of Pompey with the Temple of Venus at the top of the auditorium. (top centre)

The last major festival of Venus held in Rome was the festival of Venus Genetrix, (Universal Mother). As the divine mother of the Trojan hero, Aeneas, she was considered the ancestral mother of the Roman people, and was worshipped as such.

In ancient Rome, it seemed that not only was the goddess Venus worshipped as Goddess of Love, Beauty, and as the patron of courtesans, she was also worshipped as a bringer of victory, as a divine mother, and also in her original guise as a goddess of the land and fertility.

To the Romans, Love, it seems, had many faces.

The Birth of Venus (Sandro Botticelli, c. 1484–1486) (Uffizi Gallery, Florence)

Everyone has a different opinion of love, of what love is, its importance in the universe, the world, and in society as a whole. Love has been worshipped as something, or someone, great and earth-shattering, or as something so intimate it can only be spoken of in whispers.

In my opinion, Love makes this life worth living.

It is no coincidence that Love is the inspiration and focal point of some of humanity’s greatest artistic accomplishments, be it in poetry or prose, painting, music, or carefully-shaped marble.

The Goddess of Love, in whatever form she took, or epithet she bore, could be both terrible and beautiful beyond imagining and, as such, She was worshipped and honoured by the ancients throughout the year.

We will leave you now with the words of Ovid, one of the greatest poets of ancient Rome to write about Love…

You, who in Cupid’s roll inscribe your name,

First seek an object worthy of your flame;

Then strive, with art, your lady’s mind to gain;

And last, provide your love may long remain.

On these three precepts all my work shall move:

These are the rules and principles of love.

Before your youth with marriage is oppress’t,

Make choice of one who suits your humour best

And such a damsel drops not from the sky;

She must be sought for with a curious eye.

The wary angler, in the winding brook,

Knows what the fish, and where to bait his hook.

The fowler and the huntsman know by name

The certain haunts and harbour of their game.

So must the lover beat the likeliest grounds;

Th’ Assemblies where his quarries most abound:

Nor shall my novice wander far astray;

These rules shall put him in the ready way.

Thou shalt not fail around the continent,

As far as Perseus or as Paris went:

For Rome alone affords thee such a store,

As all the world can hardly shew thee more.

The face of heav’n with fewer stars is crown’d,

Than beauties in the Roman sphere are found.

Whether thy love is bent on blooming youth,

On dawning sweetness, in unartful truth;

Or courts the juicy joys of riper growth;

Here may’st thou find thy full desires in both:

Or if autumnal beauties please thy sight

(An age that knows to give and take delight;)

Millions of matrons, of the graver sort,

In common prudence, will not balk the sport.

In summer’s heats thou need’st but only go

To Pompey’s cool and shady portico;

Or Concord’s fane; or that proud edifice

Whose turrets near the bawdy suburbs rise;

Or to that other portico, where stands

The cruel father urging his commands.

And fifty daughters wait the time of rest,

To plunge their poniards in the bridegroom’s breast.

Or Venus‘ temple; where, on annual nights,

They mourn Adonis with Assyrian rites.

Nor shun the Jewish walk, where the foul drove

On sabbaths rest from everything but love.

Nor Isis’ temple; for that sacred whore

Makes others, what to Jove she was before;

And if the hall itself be not belied,

E’en there the cause of love is often tried;

Near it at least, or in the palace yard,

From whence the noisy combatants are heard.

The crafty counsellors, in formal gown,

There gain another’s cause, but lose their own.

Their eloquence is nonpluss’d in the suit;

And lawyers, who had words at will, are mute.

Venus from her adjoining temple smiles

To see them caught in their litigious wiles;

Grave senators lead home the youthful dame,

Returning clients when they patrons came.

But above all, the Playhouse is the place;

There’s choice of quarry in that narrow chase:

There take thy stand, and sharply looking out,

Soon may’st thou find a mistress in the rout,

For length of time or for a single bout.

The Theatres are berries for the fair;

Like ants or mole-hills thither they repair;

Like bees to hives so numerously they throng,

It may be said they to that place belong:

Thither they swarm who have the public voice;

There choose, if plenty not distracts thy choice.

To see, and to be seen, in heaps they run;

Some to undo, and some to be undone. 

(Ovid, Ars Amatoria, 35)

 

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Theatres in Ancient Rome

Salvete, ancient history-lovers!

Welcome back to the blog and the first post of the New Year on Writing the Past!

Over the years, one of the main goals of this blog has been to share the research I have been doing, whether it is for a fiction work-in-progress, or a wish to share some added knowledge about the ancient world.

For the past few months, I’ve been deep into writing a new novel (a comedy!) set in ancient Rome which has taken me deep into the world of Roman theatre. Today, I would like to share a little snippet of the research that went into this new work of historical fiction.

One of the main questions I had when I set out on this latest project was around the physical structures of the Roman theatre. Of course, I knew about ancient Greek theatres, having visited several in my travels over the years. But what about Roman theatres? Did the Romans simply re-use Greek odea? Did the Romans build their own theatres and, if so, how did they differ from those built by the Greeks?

In this blog post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at theatres in ancient Rome and how they differed structurally from those of the Greeks.

The ancient theatre of Epidaurus

The ancient Greeks were, of course, the progenitors of drama and the theatre. When one thinks of ancient theatre, it’s difficult not to think first of an ancient Greek theatre such as the the magnificent, and still-used, example at ancient Epidaurus in the Peloponnese. Or even the beautiful, silent ruins of the great theatre of Argos. It is quite an experience to sit in the ancient seats and not feel some sort of communal awe from centuries past, looking out to the distant mountains or sea beyond the stage where ancient actors would have enacted stories of gods, goddesses, heroes, and the trials and tribulations of everyday people on their journey through this life.

The ancient Greek playwrights – Euripides, Sophocles, Aeschylus, Aristophanes and others – had a way delving deep into the heart of human emotion and experience and making people linger there so that they would, hopefully, come out of it a bit more enlightened. And in a setting such as those ancient theatres, it would be hard not to.

Having seen comedic and tragic plays performed while sitting with thousands of others beneath the stars is an experience I shall never forget.

But even if one is not moved by the words spoken by the actors, it is difficult not to marvel at the genius of the architecture that allows the audience at the top of the seats to hear a whispered word spoken from the centre of the orchestra.

Ancient theatres really are engineering wonders!

The ancient theatre of Argos, Peloponnese, Greece.

Of course, the men of the Tiber knew a good thing when they saw it, and so they eventually adopted drama and theatres while adding their own Roman flair.

But this took some time, and some convincing…

Drama and theatre first came to Rome through contact with the Greek cities to the south and the Etruscans to the north, who had regular contact with the Greeks. It might have been looked upon with suspicion by conservative Romans at first, but eventually, drama would take hold of the Roman people.

Etruscan Entertainers

In 364 B.C., the Roman Republic was hit by a plague, and in an effort to please the gods and entreat their aid, Rome vowed to hold theatrical festivals in their honour.

To do this, Etruscan actors were brought in and the rest is history. This considered by some to be the start of this new entertainment for the Roman public, an entertainment inspired by the Greek cities of southern Italy.

Theatre of Dionysos, Athens

Plays were originally performed in Greek, but over time Latin playwrights emerged, such as Plautus, Terence, and others. Of course, there were tragedies and comedies in the beginning, but then folk and bawdy plays began to take hold, and the mimes and pantomimes became the most popular among ancient Romans.

To read more about the types of literature in ancient Rome, including drama, CLICK HERE.

We’ll discuss the different types of drama and its evolution in another post at a later date, suffice it to say that theatrical performances eventually became nearly as popular as chariot racing and gladiatorial combat in ancient Rome.

Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, Roman Forum. Play were sometimes performed on temple steps such as this.

There may have been theatres dotted all over territories which Rome had conquered early on, but in the city of Rome itself, there were no stone theatres at first, not like in Greek cities where a theatre was a given sign of civilization.

Early dramatic performances in ancient Rome were either performed on the steps of temples or on temporary wooden stages which were constructed in the Circus Maximus or Roman Forum for festivals. After the performances were finished, they were torn down.

Despite the popular appeal of drama in ancient Rome, conservative elements had a deep dislike of the theatre, viewing it as ‘too Greek’ and opposed to Roman values. The theatre – especially the mimes and pantomimes – were viewed as lewd, and this is a view that continued into the Christian era.

But, even among conservative Romans, it was hard to fight popular appeal, and the theatre was indeed growing in popularity.

Roman Re-enactors on the steps of a temple in Spain (photo: Turismo de Merida)

As we know, the Romans loved their games, or ludi, and by sponsoring these games, Roman magistrates had found a way to win the political favour – and hence, votes! – of the people.

Some examples of games which featured theatrical performances were the Ludi Apollinaris in honour of Apollo (July 6-13) and the Ludi Megalenses in honour of Cybele (April 4-10). 

The building of theatres became a way to win the favour of the people. Unlike today when, sadly, theatre is viewed as something more for the elite or well-to-do, the theatre was, in ancient Rome, for people of all classes!

As mentioned, at first theatres in Rome were temporary and constructed of wood, but as time went on, even these wooden ones became more elaborate.

Artist Impression of temporary wooden stage of Roman period (image: Jean Raia)

In 58 B.C. Marcus Aemilius Scaurus built a wooden stage for performances, but this one had columns of African marble, as well as statues, glass, gold and fabrics to adorn it. The people loved it!

In 52/51 B.C. Gaius Scribonius Curio even built two moveable semi-circular theatres that could be pushed together to build an amphitheatre so that plays could be performed during the day and gladiatorial games viewed at night!

Eventually the time would come when Rome would receive its first stone theatre, despite conservative opposition, and this was given to the people by none other than Pompey the Great.

Reconstruction of the Theatre of Pompey in Rome with attached gardens and temple above the theatre seating.

From 61-55 B.C., Pompey built a magnificent stone theatre for Rome, and he appears to have used his general’s wiles to get it done in a way that tricked conservative dictates. You see, this was not only a theatre, but also a temple complex dedicated to the goddess Venus herself.

Atop the great theatre of Pompey, resting above and behind the seats of the auditorium, was a magnificent temple of Venus. The argument was, it seems, that the theatre itself was simply the substructure of the temple, the ‘real’ purpose of the construction. The gods were now present in the theatre, and no one would have dared to tear it down!

The theatre of Pompey is now, perhaps sadly, known as the place where Julius Caesar was murdered (the senate was meeting there at the time), but more importantly, it was the beginning of a greater acceptance of theatre in the city of Rome.

Indeed, after the accession of Augustus, one of his supporters, one Lucius Cornelius Balbus, built a second stone theatre in Rome, on the Campus Martius, known today as the Theatre of Balbus. It was also roughly about the same time that the Theatre of Marcellus was also dedicated and ready for use by the time of the ludi saeculares of 17 B.C.

Rome now had three large, permanent theatres.

Model of the Theatre of Balbus

These permanent Roman theatres, however, were more than places to stage dramatic performances. They were also meeting places that incorporated religious elements. There were temples, and gardens and courtyards where people could stroll between acts, or meet outside of performances. They became part of the fabric of the city of ancient Rome.

But what were the structural differences between ancient Greek and Roman theatres?

It is impossible to deny the simple beauty of ancient Greek theatres, and the brilliance of their acoustic design. It is truly astounding to sit at the top of the seats and hear someone drop a coin or light a match in the middle of the orchestra!

Plan of an Ancient Greek Theatre

Roman theatres were of course, based on Greek designs. Even the Romans could not deny the acoustic uses!

But whereas Greek theatres, or odea, were normally built into a hillside and had round orchestras where the performance took place, Roman theatres were more often stand-alone structures with semi-circular orchestras where seating was reserved for high-ranking officials, senators, or members of the imperial family. Roman theatres were constructed with solid masonry or vaults that supported the curved or sloping auditorium seats, or cavea. This design sometimes included a colonnaded gallery around the outside that gave easier access to the tiers of seats.

Plan of a Typical Roman Theatre

Another innovation given to the theatre by the Romans was the inclusion of a curtain before the stage. Today, it is hard not to think of a curtain in a theatre, and we owe this to the Romans. The difference was that where today the curtain hangs from above, in a Roman theatre, the curtain, or aulaeum as it was known, retracted into a pit in the floor before the stage at the beginning of the performance, and rose out of it at the end.

The most noticeable difference between Greek and Roman theatres, however, was the Roman scaena.

In an ancient Greek theatre, initially, the chorus and actors performed on the round orchestra, but later on, a raised stage, or proskenion, was incorporated. At the back of this stage, they began to build a one or two-story backdrop known as a skene, the ‘scene’ before which the action took place, and behind which the actors could change. The Greek skene did not obstruct the view beyond the theatre, however, but rather just provided the ornate backdrop.

The Roman scaena, however, was much more substantial, for it more or less enclosed theatre completely and provided a full divider between the audience and backstage.

Scaenae frons in Roman theatres had three or five doors flanked by columns and statues in niches. The scaena and its doors could provide the setting for a street scene, houses, palaces etc., and sometimes it was even sectioned off with smaller curtains called siparia as needed.

The Roman-era theatre of Herodes Atticus, Athens

The Roman scaena also rose to the full height of the theatre itself, either level with the rear seats of the auditorium, or even higher. There was also a wooden roof above the stage of Roman theatres that also acted as a sounding board.

It wasn’t just the actors who were protected from above either, for in some Roman theatres there could also be an awning above the auditorium known as a velarium, to shield the viewers from sun and rain. Roman theatres also had covered porticoes where audience members could go between performances.

The Romans did like their comfort!

The Roman theatre in Thugga, Tunisia.

Were Roman theatres built across the Empire once Rome had made its own innovations in theatrical architecture?

Well, it seems the Romans did make adjustments to some Greek theatres by adding their own scaenae. However, especially in the Hellenistic east, Greek odea continued to be used, only just for more refined performances of music and poetry recitations rather than for populist mimes and pantomimes.

Romans continued to use the odeon design when called for, but sometimes with the addition of a roof. This type of smaller, enclosed and roofed theatre was known as a theatrum tectum. An example of this is the one built in Pompeii in 79 B.C.

Aerial view of theatres of Pompeii. Note the theatrum tectum on bottom right which would have been fully enclosed.

When it comes to theatres and theatrical performance, whatever the genre, the Greeks and Romans did have this in common: theatre was extremely popular with the people and important for the social life of the community, be it in the cultured metropolises of the Empire, or on the distant borders, far from the beating heart of Rome.

The Greeks may have invented theatres, but some might argue that it was the Romans who perfected them.

Roman Theatre of Aspendos, in modern Turkey, is one of the most intact Roman theatres in the world. (Wikimedia Commons)

More posts about Roman theatre are coming soon, but if you are interested, you can check out my previous posts about my visits to the theatres of ancient Argos, and ancient Epidaurus.

Be sure to also check out the post on Literature in Ancient Rome which includes a short discussion of Roman drama.

Thank you for reading!

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Io Saturnalia! – The Great Festival Through the Eyes of Ancient Romans

Io Saturnalia, Romanophiles!

It’s that time of year again, the time which the Roman poet Catullus referred to as optimo dierum, the ‘best of days’.

From December the 17th to the 23rd, Romans and people across the Empire would celebrate Saturn, the Winter Solstice, and the Unconquerable Sun. It can only be described as a joyous, indulgent carnival atmosphere that involved, eating, drinking, candles, holly, gifts, music, gambling, dressing up (or down!) and more. In fact many of the traditions of Saturnalia have informed our own traditions of Christmastime.

To read all about the specific traditions of Saturnalia, check out the previous post entitled Io Saturnalia! – Celebrating ‘The best of days’ in Ancient Rome by CLICKING HERE.

This year, we’re going to be looking at the festival of Saturnalia from a different angle, that is, through the eyes of ancient writers!

What did Saturnalia mean for people in ancient Rome? Was it like Christmas for us today? Did they look forward it? Did they dread the expense and preparation it required to entertain or put a smile upon the faces of their familiae?

In this brief blog post, we’re going to hear from several ancient authors about what they thought of the various aspects of this ancient and sacred festival…

The Gods Command You to Have a Good Time!

The rule of Saturnus was thought to be a mythological ‘golden age’ for Rome, and this festival harkens back to that. It honours Saturn who was the chthonic (of the earth) Roman god of seed sowing, who was often equated with the Greek god Cronus.

The Greek writer, Lucian of Samosata (c. 125-180 CE), in his dialogue, Saturnalia, relates a conversation between the god Cronus (ie. Saturn) and his priest, in which he declares that people should enjoy themselves during his festival:

Mine is a limited monarchy, you see. To begin with, it only lasts a week; that over, I am a private person, just a man in the street. Secondly, during my week the serious is barred; no business allowed. Drinking and being drunk, noise and games and dice, appointing of kings and feasting of slaves, singing naked, clapping of tremulous hands, an occasional ducking of corked faces in icy water,–such are the functions over which I preside. But the great things, wealth and gold and such, Zeus distributes as he will.

(Lucian, Saturnalia II)

This one paragraph is a wonderful source for us today because it highlights some of the most important traditions and activities of Saturnalia. and if the Gods command it, well, you HAVE to obey!

But Saturnalia was not always seven days in duration. At first, it was only a single day. As it grew in popularity, however, this expanded.

The ancient author Macrobius Theodosius Ambrosius (c. 400 CE), usually referred to simply as Macrobius, wrote what is perhaps the most famous work on this ancient festival. He acknowledges and praises the changes that led to a longer festival:

Long awaited, the seven Saturnalia are now at hand… “Our ancestors instituted many fine customs, and this is the best: from the deepest chill they produced the seven-day Saturnalia.”

(Macrobius, Saturnalia 10.3)

In addition to a lengthy period of merrymaking, just as today, things shut down for a few days. From December 17th, to December 19th, everything closed in Rome. No business was transacted and no war was waged. In a way, everyone was bound by divine decree to enjoy themselves!

Enjoy the Feast!

Just as with our own sacred days, food and eating played a major part in the Saturnalian festivities. The main sacrifice to Saturn consisted of a suckling pig, and this is what most Romans ate, if they could afford it.

The roman authorities also put on public feasts for the people of Rome, so everyone got a chance to enjoy and indulge a little. This convivium publicum was held in the Roman forum and the image of the God Saturn, presided over it.

The famous Roman historian, Titus Livius (c. 64 BCE – 12 CE), wrote about this public feast:

Finally-the month was now December – victims were slain at the temple of Saturn in Rome and a lectisternium was ordered – this time senators administered the rite – and a public feast, and throughout the City for a day and a night “Saturnalia” was cried, and the people were bidden to keep that day as a holiday and observe it in perpetuity.

(Livy, The History of Rome, Book I, XXII – 1.19)

Saturnalia was indeed a time of good will and everyone, rich and poor, master and slave, enjoyed some portion of the festivities.

A Time of Opposites

One thing that was unique to Saturnalia was the encouragement to do the opposite of what was considered normal. Rules were meant to be broken. For example, public gambling was encouraged without risk of punishment, but they did not gamble with coin, but rather, with hazelnuts! Instead of their usual toga or tunic, men wore a brightly coloured garment called a synthesis, and a pointy felt cap called a pileus. Priests at the temples and the paterfamiliae in private homes, who usually made sacrifices with their heads covered, made sacrifices during Saturnalia with their heads uncovered in the ritus Graecus, the ‘Greek fashion’.

Perhaps the most well-known, and looked-forward-to tradition for some, was the role reversal of master and slave. At one point during Saturnalia, the masters prepared and served dinner to their slaves, and gave them presents as well. Macrobius describes this for us:

Meanwhile, the head of the slave household, whose responsibility it was to offer sacrifice to the Penates, to manage the provisions and to direct the activities of the domestic servants, came to tell his master that the household had feasted according to the annual ritual custom. For at this festival, in houses that keep the proper religious usage, they first of all honour the slaves with a dinner prepared as if for the master; and only afterwards is the table set again for the head of the household. So, then, the chief slave came in to announce the time of dinner and to summon the masters to the table.

(Macrobius, Saturnalia, 1.24.22-23)

In the above quote, Macrobius references ‘houses that keep the proper religious usage’, and so, by this reference, one has to infer that there were houses where such traditions were not kept, religious or not. Surely there were houses where the slaves of the familia were treated better than in others? Those slaves whose masters observed the proper traditions of Saturnalia were, no doubt, the envy of others whose masters took a more miserly view of Saturnalia.

It does seem like most masters were happy to honour the tradition of trading places with their slaves for part of the festival, but no doubt some masters had to deal with impertinent slaves as well!

In his Satyricon, Gaius Petronius Arbiter (27-66 CE), often known simply as Petronius, refers to masters having to deal with impudent slaves during a feast, and of giving gifts to slaves:

Taking everything that was said for high praise, the foul slave now drew an earthenware lamp from his bosom, and for more than half an hour mimicked a trumpeter, while Habinnas accompanied him, squeezing his lip down with his fingers. Finally he actually stepped out into the middle of the room, and first imitated a flute player by means of broken reeds; then with riding-cloak and whip, acted the muleteer, till Habinnas called him to his side and kissed him, gave him a drink and cried, “Bravo! Massa, bravo! I’ll give you a pair of boots.”

We should never have seen the end of these tiresome inflictions but for the extra-course now coming in,- thrushes of pastry, stuffed with raisins and walnuts, followed by quinces stuck over with thorns, to represent sea-urchins. This would have been intolerable enough, had it not been for a still more outlandish dish, such a horrible concoction, we would rather have died than touch it. Directly it was on the table,- to all appearance a fatted goose, with fish and fowl of all kinds round it. “Friends,” cried Trimalchio, “every single thing you see on that dish is made out of one substance.” With my wonted perspicacity, I instantly guessed its nature, and said, giving Agamemnon a look, “For my own part, I shall be greatly surprised, if it is not all made of filth, or at any rate mud. When I was in Rome at the Saturnalia, I saw some sham eatables of the same sort.” I had not done speaking when Trimalchio explained, “As I hope to grow a bigger man,- in fortune I mean, not fat,- I declare my cook made it every bit out of a pig. Never was a more invaluable fellow! Give the word, he’ll make you a fish of the paunch, a wood-pigeon of the lard, a turtle-dove of the forehand, and a hen of the hind leg! And that’s why I very cleverly gave him such a fine and fitting name as Daedalus. And because he’s such a good servant, I brought him a present from Rome, a set of knives of Noric steel.” These he immediately ordered to be brought, and examined and admired them, even allowing us to try their edge on our cheeks.

(Petronius, Satyricon LXIX)

One imagines that a master could, when in company, be embarrassed by his slaves’ behaviour as is so hilariously portrayed by Petronius above. Though the feast of Trimalchio in Satyricon is not a Saturnalia feast, it carries many similarities, as well as a reference to the sacred festival.

But it was not only slaves who sought to call upon Saturnalia for better treatment from their masters. Cassius Dio, in The Roman History, relays how the troops in Britannia, under the command of Aulus Plautius, invoke Saturnalia when they are most upset with their commander:

While these events were happening in the city, Aulus Plautius, a senator of great renown, made a campaign against Britain; for a certain Bericus, who had been driven out of the island as a result of an uprising, had persuaded Claudius to send a force thither. Thus it came about that Plautius undertook this campaign; but he had difficulty in inducing his army to advance beyond Gaul. For the soldiers were indignant at the thought of carrying on a campaign outside the limits of the known world, and would not yield him obedience until Narcissus, who had been sent out by Claudius, mounted the tribunal of Plautius and attempted to address them. Then they became much angrier at this and would not allow Narcissus to say a word, but suddenly shouted with one accord the well-known cry, “Io Saturnalia” (for at the festival of Saturn the slaves don their masters’ dress and old festival), and at once right willingly followed Plautius…

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History LX 19)

A Time of Gift-Giving

December the 19th, the third day of Saturnalia, was the all-important day of the sigillaria. Sigillaria were gifts that were given to family members, to friends, guests, and even to slaves.

Just as today at Christmas, gifts given at Saturnalia varied widely and in accordance with one’s budget and social status. The poet Marcus Varlerius Matialis (c. 38-102 CE), known as Martial, wrote about the giving of gifts at Saturnalia:

Now, while the knights and the lordly senators delight in the festive robe, and the cap of liberty is assumed by our Jupiter; and while the slave, as he rattles the dice-box, has no fear of the Aedile, seeing that the ponds are so nearly frozen, learn alternately what is allotted to the rich and to the poor. Let each make suitable presents to his friends. That these contributions of mine are follies and trifles, and even worse, who does not know? or who denies what is so evident? But what can I do better, Saturn, on these days of pleasure, which your son himself has consecrated to you in compensation for the heaven from which he ejected you? Would you have me write of Thebes, or of Troy, or of the crimes of Mycenae? You reply, “Play with nuts. But I don’t want to waste even nuts. Reader, you may finish this book wherever you please, every subject is completed in a couple of lines.

(Martial, Epigrams XIV)

Martial seems to have especially enjoyed the gift-giving aspect of Saturnalia, for his works, Xenia, and Apophoreta, were apparently given as gifts during this ancient festival. In his Epigrams, he also gives a long list of gifts that are suitable for Saturnalia, and there is something to fit every budget.

Some of the possible gifts for guests at feasts which Martial lists include tablets (of wood or ivory); coffers (wood to hold silver, ivory to hold gold); a dice box; a gaming table; a pen case; toothpicks; ear picks; hair pins; combs; balls; hats; knives; spears; a sword and belt; a dagger; a bookcase; bundles of reed pens; candles (cerei); candlesticks; games; balls; dumbbells; leather caps; strigils; flasks; horse whips; reed pipes; slippers; pigs; various birds; vases; cups; furniture etc. etc.

Cut Out That Racket!

Not everyone enjoyed Saturnalia, however, and just as many may not look forward to the holidays today, so too did some Romans dread the advent of Saturn’s festival.

How many of us, when caught up in the chaos of entertaining and large family gatherings (before our modern plague, that is), longed for some quiet time to catch our breath? The introverts among us especially need occasion to recharge before heading back into the partying throng, no?

It was the same for the Gaius Plinius Caecilius Secundus (c. 61-113 CE), Pliny the Younger, who relayed his need to escape the festivities:

Adjoining it is an ante-room and a chamber projected towards the sun, which the latter room catches immediately upon his rising, and retains his rays beyond mid-day though they fall aslant upon it. When I betake myself into this sitting-room, I seem to be quite away even from my villa, and I find it delightful to sit there, especially during the Saturnalia, when all the rest of the house rings with the merriment and shouts of the festival-makers; for then I do not interfere with their amusements, and they do not distract me from my studies.

(Pliny the Younger, Epistles II.17.24)

Pliny doesn’t seem to want to be a party-pooper, and so kindly withdraws to allow his guests to carry on with their revelry. 

However, not everyone would have been so kind.

Enter Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c. 4-65 CE), the Scrooge of his age, it seems, for he paints a dire and distasteful picture of the Saturnalian revels going on around him:

It is the month of December, and yet the city is at this very moment in a sweat. Licence is given to the general merrymaking. Everything resounds with mighty preparations, – as if the Saturnalia differed at all from the usual business day! So true it is that the difference is nil, that I regard as correct the remark of the man who said: “Once December was a month; now it is a year.”

If I had you with me, I should be glad to consult you and find out what you think should be done, – whether we ought to make no change in our daily routine, or whether, in order not to be out of sympathy with the ways of the public, we should dine in gayer fashion and doff the toga. As it is now, we Romans have changed our dress for the sake of pleasure and holiday-making, though in former times that was only customary when the State was disturbed and had fallen on evil days. I am sure that, if I know you aright, playing the part of an umpire you would have wished that we should be neither like the liberty-capped throng in all ways, nor in all ways unlike them; unless, perhaps, this is just the season when we ought to lay down the law to the soul, and bid it be alone in refraining from pleasures just when the whole mob has let itself go in pleasures; for this is the surest proof which a man can get of his own constancy, if he neither seeks the things which are seductive and allure him to luxury, nor is led into them. It shows much more courage to remain dry and sober when the mob is drunk and vomiting; but it shows greater self-control to refuse to withdraw oneself and to do what the crowd does, but in a different way, – thus neither making oneself conspicuous nor becoming one of the crowd. For one may keep holiday without extravagance.

(Seneca, Epistles XVIII, Letters to Lucilius)

A Time of Hope

Even though some people, like Seneca, seemed to dread the coming of Saturnalia, for most it was a time of hope and celebration, a time to honour Saturn and each other, and to celebrate the Solstice and the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, the birthday of the Unconquerable Sun.

It was something to look forward to at the darkest time of year.

Perhaps not that much changes? In the West, many of us look forward to December and the celebrations that do stretch on for some time.

The Greco-Roman poet, Publius Papinius Statius (c. 45-96 CE), in one of his poems, relates the feelings of hope and joy which many must have felt with the coming of December:

Mighty Apollo, and stern Pallas

And you Muses, away and play!

We’ll recall you on Janus’ Kalends.

Let unchained Saturn join with me,

And December soaked with wine,

Smiling Humour and wanton Jest,

While of happy Caesar’s joyous

Day I tell, and of tipsy feasting.

Scarce had Aurora brought the dawn,

And already good things rained down:

These the dews the easterly sprinkled:

Whichever are best of Pontic nuts,

And dates from Idume’s fertile hills,

And plums pious Damascus grows,

And figs Ebusos and Caunos ripen,

Freely the lavish spoils descend.

And pastries and ‘little Gaiuses’

Ameria’s un-dried apples and pears,

Spiced cakes and ripened dates,

Shower from an unseen palm.

Not stormy Hyas drenches Earth

Nor the Pleiades with such showers

As rattled down on the Latian theatre

Like bursts of hail from a clear sky.

Let Jupiter cloud the whole world

Threaten to deluge the open fields,

So long as our Jove brings such rain.

Look, along the aisles comes another

Crowd, handsome and finely dressed,

No less in number than those seated!

These bring bread-baskets and white

Napkins, and elegant delicacies to eat,

Those pour out mellow wine freely:

So many cupbearers down from Ida.

The fourteen rows, now virtuous, sober,

Are fed, with the people wearing gowns;

And since you nourish so many, Lord,

Annona, the price of corn’s, outweighed.

Ages, compare now, if it’s your wish,

Old Saturn’s centuries, golden days:

Never flowed wine so, even then,

Nor did harvest anticipate new year.

Every order eats here at the one table:

Women, children, knights, plebs, Senate:

Freedom has set aside reverence.

Why you yourself (which of the gods

Issues and accepts his own invitation?)

Have come to the feast along with us.

Now all, now whoever, rich or poor

Can boast of dining with our leader.

Amid the din, and rich novelties,

The pleasant spectacle flickers by.

The unskilled sex, unused to swords,

Take position in warlike combat.

They seem like troops of Amazons

In heat, by Tanais or wild Phasis.

Here’s a line of audacious midgets,

Whom Nature suddenly left off making,

And tied forever in spherical knots.

They deal wounds and ply their fists

And threaten each other with death!

Mars and blood-stained Courage laugh

While cranes swoop at their errant prey

Wondering at their pigmy pugnacity.

Now as the shades of night gather,

A scattering of riches provokes tumult!

The girls enter, now readily bought,

Here’s whatever delights the stalls,

Pleasing forms, or established skill.

Here, the fat Lydian ladies applaud,

There are cymbals, jingling Spaniards,

And there, the troops of noisy Syrians.

Here’s the theatre-mob, and those who

Barter common sulphur for broken glass.

Meanwhile vast flocks of birds suddenly

Swoop like clouds from among the stars,

Flamingos, pheasants and guinea fowl,

That Nile, Phasis and Numidia capture.

Too many to seize; the folds of gowns

Are happily filled with new-won prizes.

Countless voices, that rise to the stars,

Proclaim the Emperor’s Saturnalia,

Acclaim him leader with fond applause.

Here’s the only licence Caesar banned:

Barely had darkness cloaked the world,

When a fiery ball from the arena’s midst

Shone as it rose through the dense gloom,

Exceeding the light of the Cretan crown.

The sky was bright with flame, permitting

No licence at all to night’s dark shadows.

At the sight of it, idle Silence and Sleep

Must take themselves off to other cities.

Who could sing the free jests, the shows,

The banquets, the home-grown foodstuffs,

Those lavishly flowing rivers of wine?

Now my strength ebbs, and your liquor

Drags me tipsily towards needful slumber.

To what distant ages shall this day travel?

Sacred, undiminished, through the years.

Whilst Latium’s hills, by Father Tiber,

And Rome, still stand, and its Capitol,

That you restore to Earth: it shall remain.

(Statius, Silvae 1.6)

I do love this poem by Statius, for it seems to envelop all the religious beliefs, traditions, chaos and revelry of Saturnalia. It paints of picture of life in ancient Rome like no other.

It may not have been enjoyed by all, but it was, perhaps, the most universally celebrated festival across all classes of Romans, something to be looked forward to and shared, something to be honoured.

And with that, I say to you, dear reader, Io Saturnalia!

I hope you enjoyed this post about what ancient Romans thought of Saturnalia.

This ancient festival is a wonderful subject to research and write about, for it brings the world of ancient Rome to colourful and vivid life!

If you would like to experience ancient Rome during Saturnalia, you will want to check out Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome. 

Many of the sources mentioned above helped to inform the research for this book which is also a sort of homage to Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol and our own holiday traditions.

You can get Saturnalia from all major bookstores and on-line retailers in e-book or paperback, from your local public library through OverDrive, as well as directly from Eagles and Dragons Publishing HERE.

For a taste of the book, see the video below in which I read an excerpt.

From all of us at Eagles and Dragons Publishing, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Solstice, and Io Saturnalia!

 

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