Ancient Rome
The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part V – Prostitution in Ancient Rome
Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we are taking a look at some of the research that went into our latest novel set in ancient Rome.
If you missed Part IV on the Games of Apollo, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.
In Part V, we are going to be taking a brief look at prostitution in the Roman Empire.
We hope you find it interesting…
WARNING: The topic discussed in this post, as well as some of the images of ancient frescoes shown, may be offensive to some readers. Discretion is advised.
Now, it should be stated at the outset that Sincerity is a Goddess is not an erotic romp through the streets of Rome. It is a heartwarming comedy. However, as mentioned in Part III of this blog series, on humour and comedy in ancient Rome, the prostitute was a stock character in Roman comedic drama.
In truth, you can’t really write about the Roman world without touching on the long-standing role that prostitution and brothels had to play in society. They were a large part of that world, an element of life in ancient Rome that spanned classes.
They existed, and they most certainly flourished. People – that is, men – of all levels of society made it a normal practice to visit their favourite brothel or prostitute.
If you liked the HBO show ROME – which is fantastic by the way! – you might have an image of Titus Pullo whoring his way through the Suburra with his jug of wine in hand. Certainly, this sort of behaviour was not uncommon, especially for troops fresh back from the wars and looking for a good time.
The flip side might be the richer, upper class nobility who may have believed visiting prostitutes was fine, as long as it was done in moderation and didn’t cause a scandal.
The prostitution scene in the Empire was as large and varied as the workers and clients who kept it running. There was something for everyone!
But let’s look at things a bit more closely.
One could say that prostitution has ties to the founding of Rome itself.
You may have read about Romulus and Remus, the brothers who founded Rome and were suckled by the She Wolf, or Lupa.
We have heard of lost children being raised by wolves before, but in the instance of Romulus and Remus, many believe that they were actually raised by a prostitute who found them on the banks of the Tiber. The slang word for prostitute in Latin was lupa.
And the word for brothel was in fact lupanar or lupanarium.
Clients were drawn in by the sexual allure of displayed ‘wares’, sometimes lined up naked on the curb outside, and the various experiences to be had within. The latter were sometimes illustrated in frescoes or mosaics on the walls of the lupanar. These were intended to add to the atmosphere, or were a sort of menu of pleasures to be had.
There were of course ‘high-class’ prostitutes who catered to wealthy and powerful patrons, women who were skilled at conversation, music and poetry. These high end lupae provided an escape, or a feast with friends, in lavish surroundings coupled with a sort of blissful oblivion. Some might have been purchased by their wealthy clients to keep for themselves, and if that was the case they might have ‘enjoyed’ a relatively easy life compared to the alternative.
The truth for most, however, was that they were slaves. And slaves in ancient Rome, as we all know, were objects, property to be used and disposed of on a whim.
Prostitutes – women, boys, girls, eunuchs etc. – were at the bottom of the social scale, along with actors and gladiators. They could be adored by clients one moment, and shunned the next. And if a lupa was no longer profitable, the leno (pimp), or the lena (madam) might sell them off as a liability, sending them to a life that was possibly even worse.
In ancient Rome, prostitution was legal and licensed, and it was normal for men of any social rank to enjoy the range of pleasures that were on offer. Every budget and taste was catered to, and because of Rome’s conquests, and the length and breadth of the Roman Empire in the early 3rd century, there would have been slaves of every nationality and colour. Clients of the lupanar would have had their choice of Egyptians, Parthians and Numidians, Germans, Britons, slaves from the far East and anywhere else, including Italians.
However, even though prostitution was regulated, we should not delude ourselves. This was not a question of morality, or curbing venereal diseases. This was about maximizing profit – prostitution was also taxed!
In Pompeii, prostitution became a sort of tourist trade. One theory contends that on the street pavement you just had to follow the phalluses to find the nearest brothel! There were numerous brothels, and that’s not counting the small curbside cells or niches where the cheapest lupae provided quickies to passers-by.
Because of the archaeological finds, the most well-known brothel in the Roman world was the ‘Great Lupanar’ of Pompeii, located at a crossroads two blocks from the Forum. Many of the frescoes pictured here are from that building which had ten rooms, where most brothels had just a few.
One might think that the subject of this particular post was rather fun to write about, that the images above are titillating. And sure, they are to an extent. I don’t mind a bit of risqué material on occasion. Why not?
But then, I can’t help thinking of the lives that these female, and sometimes male, prostitutes had to endure. Very few enjoyed the favour of kind and wealthy clients, living in luxurious surroundings.
Prostitutes were slaves and most were probably pumped and beaten for a bronze coin or two before having to receive their next tormentor. These people were objects to the rest of the world, not human beings. They were people’s daughters and sons, mothers, and sisters. In many cases they’d been taken from their homes on the other side of the world. Perhaps they were all that was left of their family?
For most prostitutes in the Roman Empire, life was a living Hades.
One thing is certain however. On the whole, prostitutes in the Roman world – be it Rome, Pompeii, or some far flung corner of the Empire – likely led tortured lives, living in squalid conditions while being brutalized by the male population. No matter how much one might like to romanticize the perceived sexual freedom of the Roman world, one cannot escape the fact that this freedom was supremely one-sided.
For some very interesting and sobering thoughts on the subject, watch this SHORT VIDEO interview with historian Mary Beard.
However, as I said, Sincerity is a Goddess is a comedy. The lupa in this book is not a tortured individual, but a more mature and savvy business woman who is quite skilled at reading people. She has, of course, had her share of hardship in her life, but by the time of our story, she has come through her toils a wiser and more confident person. Her character is crucial to the story and the journey one of our protagonists takes.
The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!
Thank you for reading.
Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s information for the edition of your choice.
The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part IV – The Games of Apollo
Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!
Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we share the research for our latest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.
If you missed the third post on humour and comedy in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.
In part four of this blog series, we’re going to be looking at games, or ludi, in ancient Rome, and then specifically at the games in the book, the Ludi Apollinares, the Games of Apollo.
Let’s get started
Ludi, or public games, were an important occurrence on the Roman calendar. Not only did they give the gods their due through religious rites and rituals, but they also gave the people a chance to unwind and enjoy themselves.
Apart from the often very specific religious rituals dedicated to whichever deity the games honoured, there were often also processions, chariot races and theatrical performances. Early on, most ludi did not include gladiatorial combat as these were reserved for funeral games alone, or ludi funebris.
Not only did games in ancient Rome provide some much needed distraction for the people from the dangers of the day, they were also a way for politicians to buy votes. The reason for this is that, though games received some funding from the state, most of the cost of ludi were paid for by wealthy citizens.
When it came to positions on the Cursus Honorum of Roman politics, the responsibility of putting on, and funding, games most often lay with the aediles, those four politicians who were at least 37 years old and were charged with looking after the interests of the city of Rome. They looked after temples, markets, streets, squares, brothels, baths, and the water supply. Very important jobs indeed.
The aediles – and sometimes praetors – were also to ensure the success of the public games.
As mentioned, the Roman state did provide a very basic operating budget for games. For example, the Ludi Romani in honour of Jupiter, held from September 5-19, at one point received 760,000 sestercii, and the Ludi Plebii, held from November 4-17, received 600,000 sestercii. The rest – which was the majority of the expense – was paid for by the aedile or praetor sponsoring the games.
These games were extremely important events on the Roman calendar, a time when the lower classes could let go and enjoy feasts and entertainments for free, and when the upper classes could see and be seen.
Different ludi were dedicated to individual deities, and so religious ceremonies, often with very specific sacrifices, were also a part of the games.
Games were, first and foremost, considered sacred acts.
Games were also founded to commemorate victories, and this became a point of pride for rulers and politicians. An example of this is in the Emperor Augustus’ Res Gestae, or ‘Things Done’:
Three times I held gladiatorial spectacle in my own name and five times in the names of my sons or grandsons; in which spectacles some ten-thousand men took part in combat. Twice in my own name and a third time in the name of my grandson, I provided a public display of athletes summoned from all parts. I held games four times in my own name and twenty-three times on behalf of other magistrates… I have provided public spectacles of the hunting of wild beasts twenty-six times in my own name or that of my sons and grandsons, in the Circus or the Forum or the amphitheatres in which three-thousand five-hundred beasts have been killed.
(Res Gestae XXII)
Today, if someone boasted of so much killing, they would be considered a human abomination in most countries, but in the world of ancient Rome, acts such as these were considered extremely generous, gifts for the people, actions which helped to secure the favour of the people.
If the mob of Rome was happy, they did not cause trouble.
There were different types of ludi as well. There could be ludi votivi, which were held in fulfillment of a vow, or ludi funebris, which were funeral games paid for by a dead person’s family. Public ludi, as we have mentioned, were paid for by the state and the aediles or praetors.
The oldest games are said to be the Ludi Romani which were dedicated to Jupiter and are thought to have been held since 509 B.C. when the temple of Jupiter was dedicated on the Capitol of Rome.
Other games that dotted the Roman calendar were the Ludi Cereri held in honour of Ceres from about 202 B.C., the Ludi Plebii also held for Jupiter from about 216 B.C., the Ludi Megalensi, held in honour of Cybele, and the Ludi Taurii, held in honour of Mars.
And then there were the Ludi Apollinares which are a part of the story of Sincerity is a Goddess.
The advent of the Ludi Apollinares, the Games of Apollo, are a bit different in their origin from some of the other games. They were begun in the wake of one of the worst defeats in Rome’s history, and born out of a prophecy that was found after the fact. Let me explain…
The Ludi Apollinares were first held in 212 B.C. during the second Punic War, four years after Hannibal’s crushing defeat of Rome’s legions at the battle of Cannae.
In the wake of this defeat, with Hannibal at the gates of Rome, Hannibal ante portas!, the Romans found a prophecy in the Carmina Marciana, the prophecies of the seer, Marcius. Livy, recounts this in his history of Rome…
The importance attached to one of the two predictions of Marcius, which was brought to light after the event to which it related had occurred, and the truth of which was confirmed by the event, attached credence to the other, the time of whose fulfilment had not yet arrived. In the former prophecy, the disaster at Cannae was predicted in nearly these words: “Roman of Trojan descent, fly the river Canna, lest foreigners should compel thee to fight in the plain of Diomede. But thou wilt not believe me until thou shalt have filled the plain with blood, and the river carries into the great sea, from the fruitful land, many thousands of your slain countrymen, and thy flesh becomes a prey for fishes, birds, and beasts inhabiting the earth. For thus hath Jupiter declared to me.” Those who had served in that quarter recognized the correspondence with respect to the plains of the Argive Diomede and the river Canna, as well as the defeat itself.
(Livy, The History of Rome, Book XXV, 12)
The discovery of this prophecy made the Romans take action. We have to remember that this was one of the most terrifying periods in Rome’s history. Hannibal was at the gates of the city, he had defeated a far larger force in one of history’s great victories at the battle of Cannae to the south, on Italian soil.
The Romans did not want to experience such a defeat again and so the Ludi Apollinares were instituted originally as votive games for two purposes: to acquire the gods’ aid in expelling the Carthaginians from Italy, and to protect the Roman Republic from all dangers. They were, originally to be held once, but the year after, the senate passed a decree based on the proposal of the praetor, Calpurnius, that the Ludi Apollinares be held every year as circumstances allowed, i.e. with no fixed date.
In 208 B.C., after a plague in the city, the praetor, Varus, put forward a bill that the Games be held every year on the specific date of July 6th.
And so, the Ludi Apollinares became a permanent part of the Roman festival calendar.
But what did these games entail?
Luckily, another prophecy in the Carmina Marciana prescribed the specific rituals and sacrifices that should be performed to honour Apollo. Again, Livy recounts this:
The other prophecy was then read, which was more obscure, not only because future events are more uncertain than past, but also from being more perplexed in its style of composition. “Romans, if you wish to expel the enemy and the ulcer which has come from afar, I advise, that games should be vowed, which may be performed in a cheerful manner annually to Apollo; when the people shall have given a portion of money from the public coffers, that private individuals then contribute, each according to his ability. That the praetor shall preside in the celebration of these games, who holds the supreme administration of justice to the people and commons. Let the decemviri perform sacrifice with victims after the Grecian fashion. If you do these things properly you will ever rejoice, and your affairs will be more prosperous, for that deity will destroy your enemies who now, composedly, feed upon your plains.” They took one day to explain this prophecy. The next day a decree of the senate was passed, that the decemviri should inspect the books relating to the celebration of games and sacred rites in honour of Apollo. After they had been consulted, and a report made to the senate, the fathers voted, that “games should be vowed to Apollo and celebrated; and that when the games were concluded, twelve thousand asses should be given to the praetor to defray the expense of sacred ceremonies, and also two victims of the larger sort.” A second decree was passed, that “the decemviri should perform sacrifice in the Grecian mode, and with the following victims: to Apollo, with a gilded ox, and two white goats gilded; to Latona, with a gilded heifer.” When the praetor was about to celebrate the games in the Circus Maximus, he issued an order, that during the celebration of the games, the people should pay a contribution, as large as was convenient, for the service of Apollo. This is the origin of the Apollinarian games, which were vowed and celebrated in order to achieve victory, and not restoration to health, as is commonly supposed. The people viewed the spectacle in garlands; the matrons made supplications; the people in general feasted in the courts of their houses, throwing the doors open; and the day was distinguished by every description of ceremony.
(Livy, The History of Rome, Book XXV, 12)
It is truly fascinating to read this passage for it is quite specific from the amount to be spent by the state, and the specific animals with gilded horns to be offered to Apollo and Latona (i.e. Leto, his mother), and that this should be done in the Greek fashion, the ritus Graecus, that is, with the head uncovered for the sacrifice.
The prophecy also prescribes a joyful atmosphere that is pleasing to the gods in which people offer what they can, wear garlands, and dine together with the doors of their homes thrown open.
At these first games of Apollo, most of the events took place in the Circus Maximus of Rome and included chariot races – by far Rome’s most popular pastime – animal hunts, religious processions and, most importantly to our story, theatrical performances.
Interestingly, we have a record of one of the specific plays performed in the games of 169 B.C. and that was the revenge tragedy of Thyestes who was King of Olympia and the son of Pelops and Hippodameia.
I think it is a safe assumption that though theatrical performance was originally a small part of the games of Apollo, over time, more would have been included, especially under such emperors as Nero, who saw himself as a great performer.
The Ludi Apollinares were smaller games than the Ludi Romani or Ludi Plebii. After all, they received less funding. But, they did grow in popularity and, eventually, they went from being celebrated for one day on July 13th, to being held for eight days from July 6th to 13th.
More events would have been held over this extended period, and though it was still, at heart, a religious and votive festival, the theatre played a large part in it.
We can end on a small anecdote that I came across in my research that illustrates this and the importance of properly seeing through the required rituals.
In the second year of the games, in 211 B.C. there is a story that during a theatrical performance for the Ludi Apollinares, a cry and panic went up in the audience that Hannibal was at the gates – Hannibal ante portas!
The spectators rushed from the theatre to get their weapons and fight to defend the city. However, it turned out to be a false alarm.
When the audience members returned to the theatre, and the play that had been so harshly interrupted, they found the dancer still dancing, and the accompanying flute player still playing! It was a marathon performance for the two, and the audience cried out “All is saved!”
Hannibal did not attack the city.
I don’t know for certain if this story is true, but it is a good one!
The show must go on and, it seems, in ancient Rome, it was indeed a matter of life and death!
Thank you for reading.
Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s information for the edition of your choice.
The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!
Saturnalia – A New Audiobook from Eagles and Dragons Publishing!
Salvete, Readers and History-Lovers!
Since it was officially formed as a company in 2014, Eagles and Dragons Publishing has been designing and producing quality ebooks and paperbacks for each of our titles.
And there have been a lot of exciting changes! We are growing as a company.
In 2021, we moved our cover design in-house, and in 2022 we began producing our very first, carefully crafted, hardcover books with wonderful results. And we’re continuing to put out more!
But there was always a piece missing: Audiobooks.
The reason for this is that audiobook production is extremely time-consuming and very costly… Unless you do it yourself.
Many of our readers began to ask about audiobooks, and so, we polled them to ask what they would prefer: an audiobook with professional actors playing our characters, or an in-house production with the author reading his or her own work.
As it turns out, 98% preferred an audiobook that was read by the author.
It is here that we should give a huge shout-out to our Patreon patrons for their generous monthly support, for it allowed us to begin acquiring the audio recording equipment we needed to make all of this happen. Thank you Patrons!
After some months of learning what is involved in recording an audiobook – technical specifications, soundproofing, and even learning how to read aloud for an extended period of time – Adam finally got down to recording! And, as with anything, the first try was definitely a learning experience. But we got there!
And so, today we’re thrilled to announce the official launch of Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s very first audiobook release, Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome!
We thought it would be prudent to begin our audiobook creation journey with a shorter novel, but also one that listeners could enjoy at this time of year. And with the start of the ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia just around the corner, on December 17th, we thought this would be perfect.
This is not a big production with a cast of actors and sound effects. Just as some of our readers requested, our audiobooks are going to consist of the author reading his or her own work, just as if they were sitting with you at home, reading by the fire.
We hope you enjoy the experience.
Saturnalia, the audiobook, is being distributed to new retailers every week, but it is already available to purchase at a special launch price until November 30th, 2022 at the following audiobook retailers:
Kobo, Walmart
Google Play
Chirp
Scribd
NOOK Audiobooks
Libro.FM
BingeBooks
Storytel
If you have a smart speaker at home, you can ask ‘it’ to play the book for you to add a little festive atmosphere to your home his holiday season.
It’s a new adventure for our books, and we’re very excited to have you along for the ride!
Adam is already at work recording the next audiobook, so stay tuned for more titles.
In the meantime, we hope you enjoy listening to Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome!
Io Saturnalia! (a little early).
Thank you for reading.
The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part III – Humour and Comedy in Ancient Rome
Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!
Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we share the research for our latest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.
If you missed the second post on theatres in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.
In part three of this blog series, we’re going to be looking at humour and dramatic comedy in ancient Rome, including stock characters and popular themes.
Let’s dive in!
An Abderite [from Abdera in Thrace] saw a eunuch and asked him how many kids he had. When that guy said that he didn’t have the balls, so as to be able to have children, the Abderite asked when he was going to get the balls.
(Philagelos, #114)
Is that funny to you? Maybe a little? Or does it make you scratch your head and wonder?
The joke above is actually a Roman joke about 2000 years old. Yes, that old. It’s one of 250-odd jokes in the oldest joke book in the world known as the Philagelos, or ‘The Laughter Lover’. It is thought that this text is a compendium of jokes over several hundred years. The earliest manuscript is thought to date to the 4th or 5th centuries A.D.
Humour in the ancient world was not really something I’d thought about in my writing and research until I began work on Sincerity is a Goddess. If there has ever been humour in my books, it has been a reflection of my own modern perceptions of what humour is, or should be. Otherwise, my modern readers would be left scratching their heads.
Several years ago, I heard an interview with eminent classicist and historian Mary Beard on the subject of her book about humour in the Roman world entitled: Laughter in Ancient Rome: On Joking, Tickling, and Cracking Up. This is a wonderful book that will give you a whole new perspective on people in ancient Rome.
Anyway, until my research for this novel, my idea of humour in the ancient world was partly based on the musical A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum by the brilliant Stephen Sondheim. The latter is not a completely inaccurate view since the story is based on the farces of the Roman playwright Plautus (251–183 BC) – more on him later in this series.
Bawdiness played a large role from the theatre to the marching songs of Rome’s legionaries.
Slap stick comedy was a part of humour in the ancient world, but Professor Beard put forth the idea that there are other aspects of ancient humour which we might not, or cannot, understand.
A professional beggar had been letting his girlfriend think that he was rich and of noble birth. Once, when he was getting a handout at the neighbour’s house, he suddenly saw her. He turned around and said: “Have my dinner-clothes sent here.”
(Philagelos, #106)
When it comes to many ancient jokes, our cultural and temporal disconnect make them simply ‘not funny’. For better or for worse, depending on your point of view, we have also grown much more sensitive today.
Another reason why the humour of some ancient jokes may be lost on us is that perhaps the medieval monks copying these down simply made mistakes or interpreted them incorrectly.
Mary Beard has also pointed out that there is no real way to know how ancient people laughed either. This is a bit of a trickier concept to wrap one’s head around. What were ancients’ reactions to laughing? Did they have uncontrollable laughter?
My thought is that yes, maybe our jokes are different from what Roman jokes were, just like how some people find Monty Python funny (I know I do!), while others wonder what the big deal is. I also think that we are perhaps not so different in our physical reactions. For example, there is the quote from Cassius Dio, whom I have used as a source for much of my writing.
Here is a portion from the Roman History in which Cassius Dio and other senators are watching Emperor Commodus slay ostriches in the amphitheatre. As we know, Commodus was off his head, and prone to killing whomever he wanted.
This fear was shared by all, by us senators as well as by the rest. And here is another thing that he did to us senators which gave us every reason to look for our death. Having killed an ostrich and cut off his head, he came up to where we were sitting, holding the head in his left hand and in his right hand raising aloft his bloody sword; and though he spoke not a word, yet he wagged his head with a grin, indicating that he would treat us in the same way. And many would indeed have perished by the sword on the spot, for laughing at him (for it was laughter rather than indignation that overcame us), if I had not chewed some laurel leaves, which I got from my garland, myself, and persuaded the others who were sitting near me to do the same, so that in the steady movement of our armies we might conceal the fact that we were laughing.
(Cassius Dio, Roman History LXXIII)
What a sight that must have been! Even though it meant certain death, Dio and the other senators had to chew laurels so as not to give in to what was presumably an urge to laugh hysterically.
A young man said to his libido-driven wife: “What should we do, darling? Eat or have sex?” And she replied: “You can choose. But there’s not a crumb in the house.”
(Philagelos, #244)
Bawdiness creeps in all the time in ancient humour, and why not? Everyone (well almost everyone) likes a sex joke. If you peruse the jokes in the Philagelos, you’ll see that many of them have to do with sex.
And this didn’t just apply to the Romans. The ancient Greeks found sex and humour to be comfortable bedfellows (no pun intended).
I remember going to an evening performance of Aristophanes’ Lysistrata at the ancient theatre of Epidaurus one summer night. It was a beautiful setting with the mountains as a backdrop to the ancient odeon, the sun setting orange and red, and then a great canopy of silver stars in the sky above.
Lysistrata is a play about a woman’s determination to stop the Peloponnesian War by withholding sex from her husband, and getting all other women to do the same. It seemed quite the political statement on the waste and futility of war, as well as ancient gender issues.
But then the men, who had not had sex for a long time, came prancing about the stage with giant, bulbous phalluses dangling between their legs, moaning with the pain of their ancient world blue balls. Some of the crowd roared with laughter, others tittered in embarrassment, and still others sat stock-still like the statues in the site museum.
Perhaps that is the point? Maybe in ancient times, just as today, some jokes were funny to some and not to others? Are we that different from our ancient Roman and Greek counterparts?
In her book, Professor Beard points out that ancient writers like Cicero speak of the different types of humour. There is derision (laughing at others), puns (word play), incongruity (pairing of opposites), and humour as a release from tension.
During my research, I found this to be a much bigger topic than I had expected. It’s fascinating to think of laughter in an ancient context.
Do I find ancient jokes funnier than before? Not really, though I do find they reveal something more of Roman society.
But what about comedy in ancient Rome, when it came to plays and the theatre?
In the first part of this blog series, we discussed drama and the various types that developed in Rome, including the pantomimes, mimes, and farces.
Pantomimes tended to be tragic, and mimes were comic in nature, both being more sophisticated or high-brow than farces. Actors in pantomime and mime received training in dance, poetry, and mythology. Often, a performance involved an expressive dance by one actor accompanied by a chorus and ensemble of string, wind or percussion instruments. The artists could be very famous, bringing in large crowds. Often, the subjects of pantomimes were mythological in nature.
That said, in the world of ancient Rome, it was the racier, more bawdy and often improvised, farces, that were popular with the people.
It seems that the people, especially among the lower classes would have much preferred American Pie or Porky’s, to An Ideal Husband or Much Ado about Nothing.
Theatrical comedy in general did have certain archetypes when it came to costumes, characters, and themes.
As in ancient Greek theatre, masks, made of linen or cork, were worn, and were brown for male characters, and white for female. Purple was the colour more often worn by rich male and female characters, and red by characters who were supposed to be poor. Slaves boys in comedies were dressed in striped tunics.
Characters and themes in Roman comedy had strong links to ancient Greek comedy, especially those of Menander.
These stock characters often included the young man (adulescens), the young woman (virgo), the young married woman (uxor), the prostitute who could have her own household (meretrix), the pimp (leno), and others such as hostile fathers, unscrupulous pimps, or pirates.
The main stock Roman comedy characters, however, were most often the clever slave, the mean brothel keeper, and the boastful but stupid soldier.
The musical, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, by Stephen Sondheim, is a modern play/musical that perfectly illustrates all of these stock characters. In some ways, it is closest to Roman mimes and farces, performed as they were with an array of songs, and musical accompaniment and dancing.
In researching Sincerity is a Goddess, it was surprising to find out that the themes in ancient Greek and Roman comedy are the origins of our modern slap-stick and romantic comedies.
Intrigues and misunderstandings are common and added to stories of boy-meets-girl, pairs of lovers, pregnancies, marriages, and mistaken identities.
It all makes for a sort of basic training in comedy writing.
Though there were a lot of similarities with comedy today, ancient comedy, high or low brow, was also unique, reflecting the worries, values and everyday lives of the Roman people.
However, it seems that, though we and the Romans may have found different things humorous, they enjoyed an escape from the everyday and a good laugh as much as we do.
Thank you for reading.
Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s information for the edition of your choice.
The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!
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!
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?
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.
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.
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.
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)
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.
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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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)