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The World of An Altar of Indignities – Part II – Travel and Transportation in the Roman Empire

Greetings Readers and History-Lovers!

Welcome back to The World of An Altar of Indignities, the blog series in which we share the research for our latest novel, An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens.

If you missed the first post on drama and theatres in ancient Athens, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In Part II, we’re going to be taking a brief look at travel and transportation in the Roman Empire. As we shall see, this is something the Romans did really well!

We hope you enjoy!

Map of the Roman Empire at its greatest extent (Oxford Research Encyclopedias)

The Etrurian Players – the tumultuous theatre troupe of our story – regularly travel the Mediterranean Sea to get to the location of their next performance, be it in the cities of Iberia, the great polis of Alexandria or, as is the case in this story, the city of Athens where theatre was born.

But how easy is it for The Etrurian Players to get from one place to another while on tour? How did ancient Romans, and Etrurians for that matter, get about?

Travel is something that we take for granted today. We decide we need to get somewhere, and we just go, be it nearby, or over a great distance across oceans and continents. We often take it for granted in fiction too. Characters often need to get from point A to point B, and it happens.

But in the ancient world, travel wasn’t so easy. It required planning, and it took time.

There were also many factors involved such as destination, budget (not unlike today), mode of transportation, and time of year. Unless one was a soldier, or merchant, or someone wealthy, chances are that you might never have left your community or indeed your Etrurian latifundium!

So, when people did travel in the Roman Empire, how and why did they do so?

Ptolemy’s world map, reconstituted from Ptolemy’s Geography, circa AD 150, in the 15th century, indicating Sinae, China, at the extreme right. (Wikimedia Commons)

First off, we should probably discuss maps. We use maps today, and the Romans had maps. Geography was important, especially if you were planning a large scale invasion or military campaign, or even surveying for a new settlement. Not many maps from the Roman period survive, but copies of maps were made from originals. Sometimes they were even rendered in paintings or mosaics.

Maps, geography and cartography are mentioned by some ancient authors such as Strabo, Polybius, Pliny the Elder, and Ptolemy. We also know that large wall maps of the world were commissioned by Julius Caesar, and then by Agrippa, during the reign of Augustus.

Much of our knowledge of place names and geography from the Roman world comes from what are called ittinerarium pictum which were travel itineraries accompanied by paintings. Perhaps the most well-known of these is Ptolemy’s Geography which included six books of place names with coordinates from around the empire, including faraway places such as Ireland and Africa.

Another source is the Ravenna Cosmography. This was a compilation of documents by a cleric at Ravenna around 700 C.E. This particular source gives lists of stations, river names and some topographical details as far away as India.

Details of a map based on the 11th century Ravenna Cosmography (Wikimedia Commons)

The Notitia Dignitatum is a late Roman collection of administrative information which included lists of civilian and military office holders, military units and forts. The maps that accompanied this were medieval, but it is believed that they were derived from Roman originals of the fourth and fifth centuries C.E.

Perhaps the most important surviving example of an itinerary, however, is the Itinerarium Antoninianum, the ‘Antonine Itinerary’, which was a collection of journeys compiled over seventy-five years or more and assembled in the late 3rd century. It describes 225 routes and gives the distances between places that are mentioned. Some believe it was probably used for travel by emperors or troops. This particular source also included a maritime section with sea routes entitled Imperatoris Antonini Augusti itinerarium maritimum. The longest route in this itinerary appears to represent Emperor Caracalla’s trip from Rome to Egypt in about 214-215 C.E, about ten years after An Altar of Indignities takes place.

Map of Roman Britain based on the Antonine Itinerary, plotted by William Stukeley in the 1700s using the Itinerary as its source. (University of Kent)

Next, one cannot discuss travel in the Roman Empire without talking about roads.

There is a reason the expression ‘All roads lead to Rome’ exists. It was true, at least for a time. This is believed to have originally referred to the milliarium aureum, the ‘golden milestone’ near the temple of Saturn in the Forum Romanum, from which all distances were measured. It is believed that distances to specific cities or settlements were written upon it.

Part of the Via Egnatia near Kavala, Greece

When it comes to roads, Rome was the best. In fact, Roman roads forever altered the empire and travel itself. Not only did Roman roads make troop movements much easier – with the troops building the roads themselves! – but they also opened up parts of the empire to trade and further settlement. They spread out from Rome like a titanic spider web connecting the eternal city to the farthest outposts.

There were also various types of road too, not just the broad, paved roads upon which vehicles and legions could travel. There were also small tracks, causeways, narrow streets, embanked roads or strata, lanes and more. Whether you were crossing the world, or crossing a settlement, roads of all types were useful.

The Roman empire in the time of Hadrian, showing the network of main Roman roads. (Wikimedia Commons)

Of course, with Roman roads, came Roman bridges over rivers that might have added days to a journey in order to reach a suitable crossing point. Travel was shortened in many ways by using Roman roads.

Now that we know how important roads were to the Roman Empire, how did people travel upon them?

When it came to the legions, marching was the order of the day for most troopers, and the average Roman soldier, fully laden, could travel up to 25 Roman miles in one day. For the average person living within the bounds of the empire, walking was also the norm. This mode of travel was slower, to be sure, though roads made it much easier.

Apart from walking, there were of course other, faster modes of transportation such as by horse, pack animal, two-wheeled cart, and four-wheeled wagon. Obviously, these required one to have the funds to own or rent such animals and vehicles, but they did greatly cut back on the travel time.

A Roman relief showing a four-wheeled, covered wagon (photo – Penn Museum)

The time of year and the weather were obvious factors when it came to travel upon roads, but also when it came to water routes open to travellers such as by river, open sea, and coastal sea travel.

When it comes to seafaring, the Romans had no such tradition until after the wars with Carthage which forced them to come to terms with the need for a navy. With the creation of that navy, Roman troops could be moved more quickly from Rome to Africa, for instance.

The other reason for travelling by sea or waterway was, perhaps more importantly, trade. The Roman Empire at its peak was vast and varied, and there was an enormous trade network that ensured raw materials such as lead and marble made it to construction sites as far away as Britannia, or from there to Rome itself. Perhaps the officers on Hadrian’s wall missed their favourite garum produced in Hispania, or wine from their family’s Etrurian estate? 

A Roman cargo ship, or ‘corbita’ (image: naval-encyclopedia.com)

To transport large amounts of goods where they needed to be at the farthest reaches of the empire, or to the heart of Rome, sea transport was the way to go, and massive ports such as those at Ostia, Carthage, Alexandria, and Piraeus were constantly alive with trade.

There were various types of ships, both commercial and military, but despite the efficiency of this mode of transport, it was even more restricted by the seasons and weather than travel over land. Sea travel could be absolutely treacherous, and the number of ancient shipwrecks that dot the coasts of the former Roman Empire are a testament to this.

The wreck of a 110-foot (35-meter) Roman ship, along with its cargo of 6,000 amphorae, discovered at a depth of around 60m (197 feet) off the coast of Kefalonia. (Photo: CNN)

If you want to read more about the various types of ships used in the Roman Empire, be sure to check out the Naval Encyclopedia page HERE.

As mentioned before, we often take travel for granted in the modern world, but it cannot be overstated how important travel was in the Roman Empire, nor how much Roman road and ship building opened up the world and the economy of Europe at the time. Yet another thing the Romans did for us!

Modern aerial view of the three harbours of the port of Piraeus, the port of Athens

We hope you’ve enjoyed this brief post about travel and transportation in the Roman Empire.

If you’re interested in taking a look, one particular tool that was especially useful when researching and writing An Altar of Indignities was Orbis: The Stanford Geospatial Network Model of the Roman World. This special GIS tool uses ancient and modern source information to accurately create itineraries for travel between destinations in the Roman Empire, taking into account mode of transport, time of year, and whether travelling by land or sea. You can check that out HERE.

Stay tuned for Part III in The World of An Altar of Indignities in which we will be taking a look at the Roman monuments of ancient Athens.

Thank you for reading.

There are more posts coming in The World of An Altar or Indignities, 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 prequel book in our #1 best-selling Eagles and Dragons series for FREE!

If you haven’t yet read any books in The Etrurian Players series, we highly recommend you begin with the multi award-winning first book Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

In celebration of drama in the ancient world, be sure to check out our ‘Ancient Theatre’ Collection in the Eagles and Dragons Publishing AGORA on Etsy which features a range of ancient theatre-themed clothing, glassware and more! CLICK HERE to browse.

An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens is now available in ebook, paperback and deluxe hardcover editions from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.

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

Brace yourselves! The Etrurian Players are back!

 

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The World of An Altar of Indignities – Part I – Drama and Theatres in Ancient Athens

Greetings Readers, Hellenophiles, and Romanophiles!

Eagles and Dragons Publishing is proud to present an all new ‘World of’ blog series that will take a look at the research, people, and places related to the newest book in The Etrurian Players series, An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens.

We know that many of you are fans of these blog series connected with each of our book releases and we hope that you enjoy this one as much as those that have gone before.

In this newest series, we’ll be publishing a new article every two weeks or so on a wide range of relevant topics such as theatre, ancient Athens, festivals, religion, playwrights, customs and more.

And now, without further ado, let’s step into The World of An Altar of Indignities!

The Theatre of Epidaurus

In this first post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at drama and theatres in ancient Athens.

But this book is set during the Roman era, isn’t it? you might ask.

That is true, but the Romans were the inheritors and adopters of Greek theatrical traditions and, as the book is set in Roman Athens, we thought it would be good to start with a look at the birth of drama in ancient Greece.

Tragedy is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude…through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions.

(Aristotle, Poetics) 

In the West, we owe a great deal to the ancient Greeks, particularly the Athenians. Out of ancient Greece came epic poetry, and lyric poetry sung to music. There was elegiac poetry that expressed personal sentiments of love, lamentation, and military exhortations. Epigrams memorialized the dead in inscriptions across the Greek world. Iambic poetry relayed often satyrical ideas as close to natural speech as possible, and bucolic poetry in hexameter told stories of the lives of ordinary country people rather than of heroes.

There is much more to it, but you get the idea. Basically, all of our western literary traditions came out of Ancient Greece.

Not least among these genres was drama.

Relief of Maenads in ritualistic, frenzied dance honouring Dionysus.

The first thing we should look at is how the artform of ‘Drama’ came about as a form of entertainment.

Similar to gladiatorial combat in Ancient Rome, which began as a religious ritual for the dead, drama in Ancient Greece was born out of religious practices, in particular, rituals honouring the god, Dionysus.

Early worship to Dionysus involved a darker side with ecstatic worship by female followers – the maenads of mythology – who were said to partake in frenzied dances and tear into animal, and sometimes human, flesh. In the sixth century B.C.E the worship of Dionysus involved obscene play, extreme emotion, singing, and dancing.

This was the genesis of Greek drama.

It was the tyrant Peisistratos (c. 600-527 B.C.E) who founded the city Dionysia of Athens, the great festival in honour of Dionysus, which involved a chorus of men singing and dancing for the god. Later, there were also rural Dionysia about Attica, with similar rituals. These early choruses could be as large as fifty people, but most were believed to consist of twelve to fifteen members.

In the sixth century (c. 535 B.C.E), when a man named Thespis added himself to the ritual to deliver a prologue and interact with the Dionysian chorus, he is said to have become the very first actor, or ‘thespian’.

The addition of this one person to interact with the chorus is thought to be the beginning of true drama, the transition from religious ritual to dramatic performance for an audience.

Later, the playwright Aeschylus added a second actor and, after him, Sophocles added a third, and this became the standard number of actors for a while, in addition to the members of the chorus.

Roman bronze from Herculaneum thought to represent Thespis, the first actor.

In early drama, Greek comedies and tragedies were, more or less, musical productions. This was due to drama’s origins in dance and song for Dionysus. The members of the chorus played groups of people like the citizens of a city, dancing and singing.

These new dramas or plays, until the Hellenistic age, were performed in competitions as part of religious festivals like the Dionysia, the Lenaea (a winter festival to Dionysus), and the Panathenaea (to Athena Parthenos) at Athens. These theatre festivals were organized by the state.

For festivals, usually three poets were selected to have their work performed, and they were assigned an actor, or actors. The playwrights who participated wrote either tragedy or comedy, but not both. They usually submitted three tragedies on different themes and a satyr play, a short comedic piece (ex. Euripides’ Cyclops).

The winner of these competitions received a wreath. From about 499 B.C.E, the best actor also received a prize. All actors, even those playing female roles, were men. Oftentimes, the poets also acted in their own plays.

At Athens, when the Dionysia was in its infancy, the admission to watch the dramas was, apparently, about two obols. However, when Pericles was leading the way through Athens’ Golden Age, the state began to pay for admission to the theatre. In addition to male citizens, this sometimes also included non-citizens, or metics, as well as women and children who were, of course, accompanied by well-respected male citizens.

But before we get into the role that theatre played in Greek society, let’s first take a look at the types of drama that were performed, mainly Tragedy and Comedy.

It should be said at this point that, unfortunately, very little ancient drama has survived the centuries, and when it comes to tragedy, only Attic tragedies have survived.

Tragic dramas or plays from Ancient Greece seem to have originated in the mid-sixth century B.C.E in Attica or the Peloponnese, and the earliest surviving one we have is Aeschylus’ Persians (c. 472. B.C.E).

Ah! Miserable Fate! Black Fortune!

Black, unbearable, unexpected disaster!

A savage single-minded Fate has ravished the Persian race!

What troubles are still in store for me?

All strength has abandoned my body… my limbs… there is none left to face these elders.

Ah, Zeus! Why has this evil Fate not buried me, as well, send me to the underworld, among all my men?

(Aeschylus, Persians)

Tragedies were the first dramas and they were almost all based on mythological tales of gods, goddesses and heroes. They also had a standard format that comprised a prologos, sometimes presented by the chorus, and sometimes by an actor. Then there was a monologue or introduction. There was a parados, which was a song sung by the chorus as it entered. After that, there were various epeisodia, scenes with actors and the chorus, and during these epeisodia, stasima (songs) were performed. The play usually closed out with the exodos, the final scene or ‘exit’.

So, the first dramatic performances were tragedies and the genre gave rise to some of the most famous playwrights of the ancient world, including Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. However, tragedy began to decline by the end of the fourth century B.C.E in favour of comedy.

Melpomene – The Muse of Tragedy

The word comedy is derived from the Greek komoidia which comes from komos, a procession of singing and dancing revellers.

It is believed that comedy dates to the sixth century B.C.E and that it may have its roots in Sicilian or Megarian drama.

As with the tragedies, only Attic comedies survive to this day, and the earliest surviving one we have is Aristophanes’ Acharnians (c. 425 B.C.E). There were earlier comic poets such as Cratinus, Crates, Pherecrates, Eupolis and Plato (different to the famous philosopher), but none of their works survive.

Oh! by Bacchus! what a bouquet! It has the aroma of nectar and
ambrosia; this does not say to us, “Provision yourselves for three
days.” But it lisps the gentle numbers, “Go whither you will.”
I accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the
Acharnians to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall
keep the Dionysia in the country.

(Aristophanes, Acharnians)

Ancient Greek comedy can be separated into three different types: Old Comedy, Middle Comedy, and New Comedy.

Comedies were humorous and uninhibited with many jokes about sex and excretions. They ridiculed and parodied contemporary characters, and an excellent example of this is Aristophanes’ ridiculing of Socrates in Clouds:

A bold rascal, a fine speaker, impudent, shameless, a braggart, and adept at stringing lies, and an old stager at quibbles, a complete table of laws, a thorough rattle, a fox to slip through any hole, supple as a leather strap, slippery as an eel, an artful fellow, a blusterer, a villain, a knave with one hundred faces, cunning, intolerable, a gluttonous dog.

(Aristophanes, Clouds)

Comedies also made fun of contemporary issues as well as gods, myths, and even religious ceremonies, making it a sort of acceptable outlet for mocking things that were otherwise sacred. This was a form of ‘free speech’ at work in the new Democracy of Athens.

All performances were staged during the city Dionysia and the Lenaea in Athens.

Old Comedy consisted of choral songs alternating with dialogue but it had less of a pattern than tragedy did. The chorus consisted of about twenty-four men and extras, and they often played animals. The actors wore grotesque costumes and masks.

Old comedies began with a prologos, and then the entrance of the chorus which proceeded to sing a parados, a song. Then there was the main event, the agon, a struggle, which was a debate or physical fight between two of the actors. There were songs during the action and subsequent scenes or epeisodia. The chorus also uttered a parabasis, which was a blessing on the audience. As with tragedy, comedies also ended with the final scene, or exodos.

Second century C.E. mosaic depicting dramatic masks for Tragedy and Comedy

Middle Comedy in Ancient Greece was basically Athenian comedy from about 400-323 B.C.E. It developed after the Peloponnesian War and was more experimental with different styles beginning to emerge. Apparently it became quite popular and experienced a revival in Sicily and Magna Graecia.

Comic choruses began to play less of a role, and the parabasis was no longer used. Interestingly, the more grotesque costumes and phalluses were not as popular either.

Comedic plots based on mythology and political satire began to give way to less harsh humour and a focus on ordinary lives and issues. 

Sadly, no complete plays from Middle Comedy survive, but some of the authors we know of were Antiphanes, Tubules, Anaxandrides, Timocles, and Alexis. Some might also class Aristophanes as one of the earliest poets of Greek Middle Comedy.

Thalia – The Muse of Comedy

Lastly, New Comedy is generally considered to be Athenian comedy from the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C.E to about 263 B.C.E.

In New Comedy performances, plays were five acts long and were interspersed with unrelated choral or musical interludes. They were generally set in Athens or Attica, and the actors wore masks, but now dressed in regular everyday clothes.

Though new comedies were Athenian, writers came from around the broader Greek world to Athens to write, and to see the plays.

The themes of these new plays were more human and relatable and dealt with things such as family relationships, love, mistaken identities (a throw-over from Middle Comedy), the intrigues of slaves, and long-lost children.

There were also stock characters that emerged such as pimps and courtesans, soldiers, young men in love, genial old men, and angry old men.

The themes and characters of Greek New Comedy greatly influenced Roman drama and which became so popular for the Roman theatre crowd.

Menander (c. 343–291 B.C.E)

Sadly, little survives in the form of Greek New Comedy, but much Roman comedy such as plays by Plautus and Terence, were based on those Greek plays, particularly Menander (c. 341-290 B.C.E). Other authors included Diphilus and Philemon.

It is a true tragedy that so much comedy does not survive. Menander alone is thought to have written over one hundred plays, and yet only a small fragment of a single one of his plays survives.

Thankfully, Roman playwrights such as Plautus and Terence used Menander’s plays as blueprints for their own and, as a result of that New Comedy format and formula, they gave rise to the western comedic tradition we are familiar with to this day through Shakespeare, Moliere, and others.

Now that we have briefly touched on the history of drama and plays, let’s take a look at where these plays were actually performed.

The Theatre of Dionysus, Athens

The word ‘theatre’ comes from the Greek word theatron which literally means ‘a place for watching’.

Theatres were built from the sixth century B.C.E onward. Most religious sites had a theatre and, as previously mentioned, they were used to celebrate festivals in honour of Dionysus.

Greek drama grew out of these religious festivals.

Early theatres could be temporary wooden structures, or a sort of scaffolding, but this practice was ceased after a deadly collapse in the Agora of Athens in about 497 B.C.E. After that, performances in Athens moved to the hillside where the theatre of Dionysus was built on the south slope of the Acropolis.

It became common practice to build theatres into the slopes or hillsides of natural hollows or, alternatively, into man-made embankments which supported tiers of seats on the hillside. Beginning in the fourth century B.C.E, theatre seating was built in marble. Theatres were generally D-shaped or on half-circle plans.

Ground Plan of the Ionian Greek theatre at Iassos.

All theatres where drama was performed were ‘open-air’ and had several common components: the koilon (the seating area) where the seats in the front row were reserved for priests and officials, the orkestra (the circular performance space), and the skene (a building for storage and changing rooms for actors). Later, the skene became a stage with a backdrop called the proskenion (in Latin, the scaena frons). The addition of this stage (pulpitum in Latin) expanded the performance area.

The other common performance space that was similar to theatres in Ancient Greece was the odeon (plur. odeia). These were usually roofed structures for listening to musical recitals and contests, poetry readings and other similar performances. Odeia were basically small theatres with a roof.

The first odeon of ancient Athens is thought to be that built by Pericles in the fifth century B.C.E. It was located directly beside the theatre of Dionysus and was a pyramidal structure made of wood with the roof supported by many columns. Some believe it was designed to resemble the tent of the defeated King of Persia.

Other odeia of ancient Athens included the Odeon of Agrippa in the Athenian Agora, and the stunning Odeon of Herodes Atticus on the southwestern slope of the Acropolis which is still used for performances to this day and which is featured in An Altar of Indignities.

Acropolis of Athens with the Odeon of Herodes Atticus before it on the left.

Today, theatre and dramatic performance is seen as more of a luxury in western society, something for the privileged few.

This was not the case in ancient Athens.

Though drama had religious beginnings, it evolved into an important way for Greeks as a society (albeit mostly for male citizens) to investigate the world in which they lived and what it meant to be human.

Aristotle believed that drama, tragedy in particular, had a way of cleansing the heart through pity and terror. It could purge men of their petty concerns and worries and, with this noble ‘suffering’, they underwent a sort of catharsis.

With the advent of philosophical thought, theatre and drama became the vehicle that encouraged average Greeks to become more ‘moral’ by helping them to process the issues of the day through both Tragedy and Comedy.

Rather than being a leisure activity for the elites, as it is perceived today, attending the theatre in ancient Athens was an important form of civic engagement after exercising one’s rights and performing one’s duties for the community (such as voting). Watching and experiencing tragedies and comedies with one’s fellow citizens became an important activity in the new Democracy of the day.

Not only did the drama and theatres of ancient Athens inspire their Roman successors, they also helped to shape the artistic traditions of western civilization.

For that, we should all be grateful.

Thank you for reading.

An array of Greek theatre masks

We hope that you’ve enjoyed this short post on drama and theatres in ancient Athens. There is a lot more to learn on this subject. We highly recommend the documentary series by Professor Michael Scott, Ancient Greece: The Greatest Show on Earth. You can watch the first episode HERE. 

You can also read our popular articles on Theatres in Ancient Rome and Drama and Actors in Ancient Rome.

There are a lot more posts coming in The World of An Altar or Indignities, 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!

If you haven’t yet read any books in The Etrurian Players series, we highly recommend you begin with the multi award-winning first book Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

In celebration of drama in the ancient world, be sure to check out our ‘Ancient Theatre’ Collection in the Eagles and Dragons Publishing AGORA on Etsy which features a range of ancient theatre-themed clothing, glassware and more! CLICK HERE to browse.

Stay tuned for the next post in this blog series in which we’ll be looking at travel and transportation in the Roman Empire.

An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens is now available in ebook, paperback and deluxe hardcover editions from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.

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

Brace yourselves! The Etrurian Players are back!

 

 

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New Release! – The Etrurian Players are Back!

Greetings Readers and History-Lovers!

Eagles and Dragons Publishing is thrilled to announce the release of Book II in The Etrurian Players series!

The title is An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens and it is an embarrassing and touching story of family and friendship, creativity, and the discomfort that humans experience as life inevitably changes.

The story takes place in the Roman Empire in the year 205 CE…

Brace yourselves! The Etrurian Players are back!

The Gods are well aware that mortals have a habit of taking themselves far too seriously. This is especially true of The Etrurian Players, the greatest theatrical troupe in the Roman Empire.

Basking in the glories of their resounding success in Rome, Felix Modestus and his players find themselves on the sacred island of Delos when Apollo decides it is time to check Felix’s growing hubris with a new and potentially deadly mission: he must show the people of Athens that Romans are just as capable of theatrical greatness as the Greeks!

Faced with this titanic task, Felix once again enlists the help of his oldest friends, Rufio and Clara, who travel from their farm in Etruria to Athens for the great Panathenaic festival when the precarious production is destined to take place.

As the company attempts to prepare for the performance, their efforts are constantly hampered by haughty critics, a rival theatre troupe, wailing children, wild animals, and the pleasures of Athena’s polis.

Will The Etrurian Players overcome distraction to win over the people of Athens? Will they survive the trials and judgement of Apollo? Or will they succumb to the humiliation and self-doubt that lurks around every creative corner?

Only by believing in themselves and helping each other can they survive and prove once again that The Etrurian Players are worthy of praise and the Gods’ favour.

If you like dramatic and comic stories about wild artists, persistent shades, and unbelievable episodes with goats, monkeys, and dogs, then you will howl and cry at An Altar of Indignities!

Read this book today for a theatrical misadventure in Roman Athens that will leave you asking the Gods ‘What were they thinking?’.

If you haven’t yet experienced The Etrurian Players series, be sure to check out Book I first, the multi award-winning title, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

If you are feeling down about the world at the moment, The Etrurian Players series is just the ticket you need to feel good and know that there is indeed hope for us all!

An Altar of Indignities is now available in ebook, paperback and deluxe hardcover editions from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.

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

You can also purchase the ebook directly from Eagles and Dragons Publishing by clicking HERE.

We’re so excited to share this dramatic and romantic comedy with the world, and we’re thrilled that you’re joining us on the adventure!

Thank you for reading!

 

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New Deluxe Hardcover Release! – The Carpathian Interlude

This October, Eagles and Dragons Publishing is thrilled to announce the release of our complete historical horror trilogy, The Carpathian Interlude, in a new, deluxe hardcover edition!

We’re really proud of the hardcover books we design here at Eagles and Dragons Publishing, and with this latest one we’ve exceeded our expectations!

In addition to the sturdy hardcover case and jacket that will see this book pass safely through many readers’ hands – especially in a public library setting – there are also fun design details like the carved image of the ‘Taurauctony’ of the god, Mithras, as well as the haunting image of the Kalkriese mask from the Teutoberg Forest massacre.

If you don’t know why those are relevant to the story, then you’ll need to read the book!

Here’s a peek at the full hardcover jacket, case, and the story synopsis…

Hardcover Dust Jacket

The Hardcover Case beneath the jacket

The Carpathian Interlude

Only when fear is at its most intense can true heroism come into the light.

For ages, an ancient evil has been hiding in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains, an enemy of the god Mithras, Lord of Light.

In A.D. 9, when three of the Emperor Augustus’ legions are slaughtered in the forests of Germania, it becomes evident to a small group of experienced veterans that something more sinister than the rebellious German tribes is responsible for the massacre.

It falls to Gaius Justus Vitalis and a few warriors favoured by Mithras to hunt down and destroy the forces of undead spurred on by this ancient evil. Summoning all of their courage, they must wade through horror and rivers of blood to bring Mithras’ light into the darkness, or else see the destruction of Rome, the Empire, and all they hold dear.

The adventure begins with the appearance of a young refugee beneath the walls of a distant legionary base…

The Carpathian Interlude is the perfect read for fans of Roman historical fiction and horror. Read it for Halloween, during the dark days of Winter, or any time you’re craving adventure.

Step into the world of The Carpathian Interlude today for an epic and visceral adventure in the Roman Empire that you will never forget!

The Carpathian Interlude: The Complete Trilogy is 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 or get ISBN# information for the edition of your choice.

Are you brave enough?

Thank you for reading.

 

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part IX – Plautus: Playwright of the Roman People

Greetings Readers and History-Lovers!

Welcome to the final post in 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 VIII on the theatre of Pompey, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In Part IX, we’re going to take a brief look at the ancient playwright whose work is central to the story of Sincerity is a Goddess: Plautus.

We hope you enjoy…

In misfortune if you cultivate a cheerful disposition you will reap the advantage of it.

– Plautus

Sincerity is a Goddess was always intended to be a comedy that involved the production of a play, but in the initial stages of research, one of the very first questions I had to pose myself was “What play?”

A lot hinged on the choice. Of course, when one thinks of ancient playwrights, one inevitably thinks of the great Greek playwrights, Aeschylus, Aristophanes, Euripides and others. But I knew that I wanted to use a Roman playwright’s work for this dramatic and romantic comedy, and so the choice inevitably came down to one between Terence and Plautus, the great comic playwrights of Republican Rome whose work was based on Greek New Comedy and subjects dealing with ordinary family life, love, and hilarity.

Terence’s plays are full of feeling. They are tender.

However, Plautus’ plays tended to be more comic and raucous with lots of music, songs, and duets that keep the audience at a distance. One might say that, in his time, Plautus had more popular appeal with the Roman people.

And so, I chose Plautus and his Menaechmi.

Titus Maccius Plautus (c. 254 – 184 B.C.)

Let deeds match words.

-Plautus

Who was Titus Maccius Plautus?

Let’s take a brief look at the man and his origins.

Plautus, who later became the great Roman comedy writer we know of, was originally from Sarsina, a town in northern Italy in Emilia-Romagna.

Early in his life, he moved to Rome where it is believed he worked at a trade in the theatre, either as a stage carpenter or scene-shifter. He also made money at some form of business, perhaps to do with shipping, but that business went under. He also worked as a baker, apparently.

The second century A.D. writer, Gellius, gives us some hints about Plautus’ life before fame:

Now there are in circulation under the name of Plautus about one hundred and thirty comedies; but that most learned of men Lucius Aelius thought that only twenty-five of them were his. However, there is no doubt that those which do not appear to have been written by Plautus but are attached to his name, were the work of poets of old but were revised and touched up by him, and that is why they savour of the Plautine style. Now Varro and several others have recorded that the Saturio, the Addictus, and a third comedy, the name of which I do not now recall, were written by Plautus in a bakery, when, after losing in trade all the money which he had earned in employments connected with the stage, he had returned penniless to Rome, and to earn a livelihood had hired himself out to a baker, to turn a mill, of the kind which is called a “push-mill.”

(Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights)

Luckily, his exposure to theatre is what got hold of him, and it seems that he began to write…and write…and write. We may not know much about Plautus’ personal life, but we are very fortunate indeed that much of his catalogue of plays survived the ages.

Plautine manuscript from 1530

Plautus wrote verse comedies, or fabulae palliatae which were based on Greek New Comedy, and he achieved huge success.

The plays of Plautus are the first substantial surviving written works in Latin and, no doubt thanks to the fact that they were so popular, they were copied frequently.

We know little about the man himself. Some hypothesized that even his name was not his true name and that ‘Maccius’ was actually a corruption of ‘Maccus’ the clown character in the Atellan farces, and that ‘Plautus’ meant ‘flat-foot’, referring to a character in the mimes. However, how many artists use stage names or pseudonyms? Lots, I’d say.

Though Plautus the man may be a mystery, we do know much about his extensive catalogue of works. It is not known exactly how many plays he wrote, but 21 have survived in their entirety, and there are fragments or mentions of an additional 30. In the quote above, Gellius alludes to many more as a possibility.

The metres of Plautus’ verse combined Greek metrical patterns with the stress patterns of the Latin language when spoken. But he went beyond simple translation.

Plautus adapted plays from Greek instead. He added much more music and songs, or cantica, like opera arias, then was normal in New Comedy. The performances were perhaps more like modern musicals which, in turn, partially owe their existence to Plautus’ work. Just think of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, by Stephen Sondheim. That musical is basically a great homage to Plautus!

Plautus’ plays appealed to Roman audiences because they presented a Latinized glimpse of Greek sophistication and outrageous behaviour that was outside of the audience’s experience. After all, theatre should be an escape!

Not by age but by capacity is wisdom acquired.

– Plautus

Plautus’ plays lacked the characterization and refinement of Greek New Comedy. His humour was more about jokes, verbal tricks, puns and alliteration that delighted the audience. He mastered the use of vulgarity, humour, and incongruity.

His stock characters were influenced by the Attelan farces, and included slaves, concubines, soldiers, and doddery old men. He created the ‘clever slave’ which would, in time, come to be known as a ‘Plautine Slave’. Often, the slave was smarter than his master, and even compared to a hero.

The plays involved everything from love and misunderstanding, to ghosts, rogues, tricksters, and braggarts who get humiliated in the end. Plautus only wrote one play based on myth, his Amphitruo. The rest of his plays portray the lives of more everyday people who his audiences could, more or less, relate to.

The Menaechmi itself is a comedy of errors about twins separated in infancy, in a Greek setting with numerous Roman references.

Not only did Plautus adapt Greek plays, he expanded on them and modified them in such a way that he made Greek theatre Roman!

Because he was a man of the people, having experienced their same toils, Plautus’ plays touched a nerve that made them extremely popular. They were performed for centuries after his death, well into the Renaissance, and his work was extremely influential on such greats as William Shakespeare (Comedy of Errors) and Moliere, who made use of many Plautine elements.

Like many comedians to this day, however, Plautus was not immune to criticism. Playwrights have always been rebels. The more conservative elements in Rome accused him of disrespecting the gods because his characters were sometimes compared to the gods either in mockery or praise. Sometimes, his characters even scorned the gods!

Some believe that Plautus was simply reflecting the changing tide of Roman society. He may have been controversial, but not enough to ban or prosecute him. Roman politicians were always keenly aware of the mood of the mob.

Artist impression of the Second Macedonian War

Conquered, we conquer.

-Plautus

War is a subject that seems constant throughout history. We are certainly aware of it today (sadly), as were Plautus and the Roman people.

During Plautus’ lifetime, the Roman people endured three great wars: the Second Punic War against Hannibal, and the First and Second Macedonian Wars against Philip V and Greece.

With the Second Punic War, the Roman Republic and people were fighting for their lives with the enemy being literally at their gates at one point. When it finally ended, they were exhausted by war, tired of it.

When certain powers in Rome wished to wage a successive war on Greece and Philip V of Macedon, the Roman people were not as supportive, and Plautus reflected these popular, anti-war sentiments in his plays such as Miles Gloriosus, and Stichus. 

Many Romans did not want another war, and Plautus championed them in a way by giving voice to their anti-war voices and touching on themes of economic hardship forced on the citizens by the wars.

Sounds strangely familiar to us today, doesn’t it?

One could say that the greatest contribution of Plautus’ work, his genius even, was to take up the cause of the average Roman through comedy.

He was saying that the state should take care of its suffering people at home before undertaking military actions abroad.

We should bear in mind too that at this time in Roman history, when the Roman Republic was expanding and gathering power, Roman theatre was still in its infancy.

Plautus broke new ground in Rome. He made the people laugh, but he also gave them an important voice.

Since he has passed to the grave, for Plautus Comedy sorrows;

Now is the stage deserted; and Play, and Jesting, and Laughter,

Dirges, though written in numbers yet numberless, join in lamenting.

– Epitaph for Plautus, attributed to Plautus by Gellius and Varro

We have but scratched the surface of Plautus’ life and plays. Little more is known of him personally but, as with any writer, we can perhaps discern something of the man from the stories he put into the world.

There can be no doubt that the Roman world mourned his death on some level, as is attested by the moving epitaph shared by his fellow writers.

In a sense though, because so much of his work has survived time, and continues to be performed, to influence other art, Plautus is perhaps one of the most immortal of Romans.

Renaissance representation of Plautus

The plays of Plautus are fun to read, even today, and I would encourage you to delve into them.

For my part, I truly enjoyed reading and re-reading the Menaechmi, and by incorporating it into Sincerity is a Goddess, by diving deep into the study of it, it has given me a new and wonderful insight into Roman theatre, and the man who was truly the playwright of the Roman people.

Thank you for reading.

Well, that is the end of The World of Sincerity is a Goddess. The curtain has fallen (or risen out of the ground, as was the case in Roman theatres!).

We hope you have enjoyed this blog series, and that you enjoy Sincerity is a Goddess if you read it. If you have read it, please leave a review on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing website or on the store where you purchased the book. Reviews are a wonderful way for new readers to find this dramatic and romantic comedy of ancient Rome!

If you missed any of the posts in this nine-part blog series, you can read all of them on one web page by CLICKING HERE.

Sincerity is a Goddess is available in hardcover, paperback, and ebook 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#s for the edition of your choice.

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part VIII – The Theatre of Pompey

Greetings Readers and History-Lovers!

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 VII on doctors in the Roman Empire, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In Part VIII, we’re going to be exploring one of the major settings in Sincerity is a Goddess: the Theatre of Pompey.

Not only does this theatre play a large role in our story, but it also has a fascinating foundation story in addition to being the site of one of the most infamous moments in the history of Rome.

We hope you enjoy…

When designing a theater, you should include porticoes behind the stage to house the audience when a sudden downpour disrupts the performances, and to provide some open space for the preparation of stage sets. The Pompeian Portico is an example of this.

(Vitruvius, Architecture 5.9.1)

In a previous post in this blog series, we already discussed the history of theatres in ancient Rome and how they started out as temporary wooden stages set up for festivals, only to be torn down at the end of the show. If you missed that post, you can read it HERE.

The Theatre of Pompey, or the Theatrum Pompeii, is different in that it changed the game, so to speak. Its creation not only gave theatre its first permanent home in ancient Rome, but it also changed the architecture and purpose of theatres in general, an influence that can still be felt to this day!

Theatre of Mytilene that inspired Pompey

The Theatre of Pompey was, of course, built by the general and politician Pompey the Great, a contemporary of Julius Caesar who had also been married to Caesar’s daughter, Julia.

In 62 B.C. it is said that on a visit to the island of Mytilene (Lesvos), Pompey was inspired by the theatre there. He was in his second consulship and so, to solidify his popularity he conceived of the idea of building a permanent theatre for the people of Rome.

However, Roman law forbid the building of stone theatres within the pomerium, the sacred boundary of the city of Rome. So, Pompey decided to build his theatre in the ager Romanus, the area outside the boundary of the pomerium, on the Campus Martius, the Field of Mars.

Construction is said to have begun around 61 B.C. with the theatre being completed around 55 B.C.

Map of Republican Rome with the borders of the Pomerium in pink.

Despite building outside of the pomerium, there were still some conservative parties who opposed the construction of a permanent theatre.

Pompey, cunning general that he was, further circumvented the law against theatres by making the theatre itself a sort of substructure for the temple of his patron goddess, Venus Victrix. Opposite the stage at the top of the cavea, the auditorium, Pompey built a magnificent temple to the goddess. The seats of the auditorium, which had a capacity for well over 22,000 people, provided the steps leading up to the temple!

Digital reconstruction of the Theatre of Pompey (Wikimedia Commons)

Now that the structure was mainly a structure dedicated to the goddess Venus herself, none could dare oppose its construction! The Christian writer, Tertullian, writes about this:

I especially wish to demonstrate for other Christians how those traditional spectacles of Roman entertainment are not compatible with the true religion and the true worship of the one true God.…

Let us consider the true nature of theatrical entertainment, beginning with the vice inherent in its setting. The theater, rightly seen, is a shrine to Venus. Indeed, this type of building came into the world in the name of Venus. For originally, even the heathen censors were concerned to destroy theaters as quickly as they arose, foreseeing the serious moral damage that would result from the licentious spirit of the theater.… Because of this attitude, when Pompey the Great (only his theater was greater than he!) had constructed that citadel of every vice and was afraid that because of this his memory might one day suffer from official censure, he added on to his theatre a temple to Venus, and when he summoned the people to the dedication, he did not call the structure a theatre, but a temple “to which we have added,” he said, “some seating for shows.”

(Tertullian, Pagan Entertainments 1, 10)

Rome had received its first, permanent, stone theatre complete with a large, wide stage, or pulpitum, aulaeum, the curtain that rose out of the ground before the stage, and a towering decorative scaena frons which provided the backdrop for performances, complete with doorways for the plays, and niches with statues above. 

The Theatre of Pompey had it all!

According to the sources, the performances that were put on as part of the theatre’s dedication were Accius’ Clytemnestra, and Equos Troianus by either Andronicus or Naevius. It was a big event, such that the famous actor Clodius Aesopus was brought out of his retirement to perform in the opening show which was, of course, accompanied by gladiatorial matches with exotic animals. It was Rome, after all!

Digital Recreation of the temple of Venus Victrix at the top of the auditorium.

The Theatre of Pompey, however, was much more than a theatre, or a temple for that matter. It was an entertainment and administrative complex where the elite of Rome could meet, and where citizens could gather. It was something of an oasis in the city of Rome. Even poets praised its beauty…

Why, Cynthia, do you flee the city for smaller towns nearby?

I suppose the Portico of Pompey, with its columns of shade

And tapestries of threaded gold, seems squalid to you,

With its solid rows of plane trees shaped to an even height,

The streams of flowing water that slide off the Slumbering Satyr,

And the liquid sounds of splashing around the entire basin

When Triton suddenly blows the water from his mouth.

(Propertius, Elegies 2.32.11-16)

Connected to the theatre was a large area known as the quadriporticus which comprised an enormous area of groomed gardens with magnificent statues and fountains surrounded by columned porticoes.

Architectural plan of the theatre and quadriporticus of the complex.

Outside the far end of the quadriporticus, opposite the theatre, another temple complex was incorporated. This sacred area included more ancient temples to Juturna (A – 241 B.C.), the Aedes Fortunae (B – 101 B.C.), Feronia (C – 4th century B.C.), and the Lares Permarini (D – 2nd century B.C.).

As was often the case in ancient Rome, religious belief was a part of the everyday, including theatre.

Republican-era temples in the sacred area at the far end of the quadriporticus. (Wikimedia Commons)

As we mentioned, Pompey’s wonderful theatre complex was much more than an entertainment and social venue. It was also an administrative centre.

In fact, included in the complex of the quadriporticus was the Curia of Pompey. This meeting space was sometimes used as a place for the Senate of Rome to meet.

This is exactly what was happening on March 15th, 44 B.C.

Because of work being done on the Senate house in the Forum Romanum, the Senate of Rome was meeting in the Curia of Pompey. It was a day that would shake the Roman world, and set off another bloody civil war.

As Julius Caesar arrived at the Curia of Pompey for the meeting of the Senate, he was surrounded by a conspiring group of Roman senators and murdered.

The Death of Caesar (Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1867)

The scene itself of Caesar’s death-struggle and assassination later made it clear to all that some spirit-power [daemon] had taken the event in hand to bring it about. For the meeting-site of the senate that day contained a statue of Caesar’s late rival Pompey, which Pompey himself had dedicated as one more ornament to his theater.…

(Plutarch, Caesar 66.1, 3-7)

The Ides of March were burned into the historical timeline from then on, and it happened at the temple and theatre complex built by Caesar’s one-time friend, son-in-law, and enemy, Pompey the Great.

The Theatre of Pompey had a long and storied history. It saw tragedy, comedy, beauty and bloody murder, and for forty years it was the only permanent theatre in Rome.

Eventually other theatres, such as the Theatre of Balbus (13 B.C.) were built around the Theatre of Pompey, seeking to enliven themselves by proximity to the latter’s splendour. This created a sort of theatre district in ancient Rome, and the Theatre of Pompey was at its heart.

Artist impressions of the cavea (auditorium) with the temple at the top, and of the pulpitum and scaena frons (the stage and stage house).

The building of the Theatre of Pompey in ancient Rome was a turning point in theatre history, for it gave wider acceptance to theatrical performance, as well as a permanent home.

Theatrical groups from across the Roman world, including our fictional Etrurian Players, saw performing in that great place as the pinnacle of their careers, similar to artists getting to perform in places such as La Scala, Royal Albert Hall, or Carnegie Hall today.

The Theatre of Pompey also gave theatre complexes a much broader role in society which not only included that of a religious centre and entertainment venue, but also as an administrative centre, and an attractive public space. The latter is certainly something that is still holds true to this day in modern theatre settings.

The Tom Patterson Theatre in Stratford, Ontario carries on the tradition of a theatre that is also a public space and gardens in an urban setting.

In Sincerity is a Goddess, as one of the major settings, the Theatre of Pompey plays a crucial role in the story and in the lives of the players who are destined to perform there.

As in fact and fiction, there is history in that place, and it is keenly felt by all.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in hardcover, paperback, and ebook 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.

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part VII – Doctors in the Roman Empire

Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!

Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we delve into the research that went into the dramatic and romantic comedy of ancient Rome, Sincerity is a Goddess.

If you missed Part VI on the theatre and healing sanctuary of ancient Epidaurus, you can read that by clicking HERE.

Today, in Part VII of this blog series, we’re going to be sticking with the healing theme, only this time from the Roman perspective rather than from the Greek one, though they are related.

In this post, we’re going to be taking a look at doctors in the Roman Empire, as well as that famed centre of healing in the heart of ancient Rome, Tiber Island.

A doctor making a house call.

Going to the doctor’s office is never something one looks forward to.

For most, myself included, it gets the heart rate and stress levels up to step into a building that’s full of ‘sick people’. With our modern plague, I’m sure many of us are feeling that.

Sitting around in a waiting room with a group of scared, nervous, fidgety folks, is enough to drive you mad, and the sight of a white coat and stethoscope makes one want to run screaming from the building.

In a way, it was probably the same for our ancient Greek and Roman ancestors. Most civilians would have been loath to visit with a physician. It might not have been someone you wanted around, unless absolutely necessary.

When it comes to physicians in the Roman Empire, it has to be said that many, if not most, were Greek, and that’s because Greece was where western medicine was born. Indeed, the ancient Greeks had patron gods of health and healing in the form of Asklepios, Igeia, and sometimes Apollo.

Artist rendering of the Asklepion of Kos

The greatest medical school of the ancient world was in fact on the Aegean island of Cos, where students came from all over the Mediterranean world to learn at the great Asklepion. Hippocrates, the 5th century B.C. ‘father of medicine’, was from Cos and said to be a descendant of the god Asklepios himself.

When it comes to Roman medicine, much of it is owed to what discoveries and theories the Greeks had developed before, but with a definite Roman twist.

Hippocrates

The fusion of Greek and Roman medicine in the Roman Empire consisted of two parts: the scientific, and the religious/magical.

The more scientific thinking behind ancient medical practices is a legacy owed to the Greeks, who separated scientific learning from religion. The religious, or rather superstitious, aspects of medicine in the Roman Empire were a Roman introduction.

Because of this fusion of ideas and beliefs, you could sometimes end up with an odd assortment of treatments being prescribed.

A Roman physician blood letting (by Robert Thom, c. 1958)

To alleviate your anxiety over your new business venture, you should take three drops of this tincture before you sleep. You should also sacrifice a white goat to Janus as soon as possible.

Many Roman deities had some form of healing power so it depended on one’s patron gods, and the nature of the problem, as to which god would receive prayers or votive offerings over another. Amulets and other magical incantations would have been employed as well.

Roman surgical instruments

Romans had a god for everything, and soldiers were especially superstitious.

Much of Greek medical thought opted for practicality in the treatment of wounds, and injuries; cleaning and bandaging wounds would have been more logical than putting another talisman about the neck. That said, let us not forget the aspect if divine intervention when it came to some aspects of healing in such places as Epidaurus.

All the gods were to be honoured, but in the Greek physician’s mind they had much better things to look after than the stab wound a man received in a tavern brawl.

Battlefield medics treating wounded soldiers on Trajan’s Column

For the battlefield medicus, things must have been much simpler than for the physician who was trying to diagnose mysterious ailments for someone in the heart of Rome. They were faced mostly with physical wounds and employed all manner of surgical instruments such as probes, hooks, forceps, needles and scalpels.

Removing a barbed arrowhead from a warrior’s thigh must have required a little digging.

Of course, in the Roman world, there was no anaesthetic, so successful surgeons would have had to have been not only dexterous and accurate, but also very fast and strong. Luckily, sedatives such as opium and henbane would have helped.

Medic helping a warrior tend a wound

When it came to the treatment of wounds, a medicus would have used wine, vinegar, pitch, and turpentine as antiseptics. However, infection and gangrene would have meant amputation. The latter was probably terrifyingly frequent for soldiers, many of whom would end up begging on the streets of Rome.

It is interesting to note that medicine was one of the few professions that were open to women in the Roman Empire. Female doctors, or medicae, would also have been mainly of Greek origin, and either working with male doctors, or as midwives specializing in childbirth and women’s diseases and disorders. When it came to the army however, most doctors would have been male.

Ancient surgical instruments, including forceps

Army surgeons played a key role in spreading and improving Roman medical practice, especially in the treatment of wounds and other injuries. They also helped to gather new treatments from all over the Empire, and disseminated medical knowledge wherever the legions marched. Many of the herbs and drugs that were used in the Empire were acquired by medics who were on campaign in foreign lands.

Early on, physicians did not enjoy high status. There was no standardized training and many were Greek slaves or freedmen. This began to improve, however, when in 46 B.C. Julius Caesar granted citizenship to all those doctors who were working in the city of Rome.

This last point really hits home when it has become common knowledge that foreign doctors who come to our own countries today find themselves driving taxis or buses because they are not allowed to practice.

Modern governments, take your cue from Caesar!

Galen

One of the most famous physicians of the Roman Empire is Galen of Pergamon (A.D. 129-c.199). Galen was a Greek physician and writer who was educated at the sanctuary of Asklepios at Pergamon in Asia Minor.

After working in various cities around the Empire, Galen returned to his home town to become the doctor at the local ludus, or gladiatorial school. He grew tired of that work and moved to Rome in A.D. 162 where he gained a reputation among the elite. He subsequently became the personal physician of the Emperors Marcus Aurelius, Commodus, and for a short time, Septimius Severus.

Galen’s work and writings provided the basis of medical teaching and practice on into the seventeenth century. No doubt many an army medicus referred to Galen’s work at one point or another.

Galen is also an important character in A Dragon among the Eagles, the prequel in the Eagles and Dragon series. In the book, Galen, an old friend and colleague of Lucius Metellus’ late tutor, presents Lucius with a choice that could well change the direction of Lucius’ life. In fact and fiction, Galen is a fascinating person of history.

Re-created ancient surgical instruments

There was, of course, a difference between medical procedures that were frequently carried out on civilians in Rome versus what was needed on the battlefields of the Empire.

I’m not an expert in ancient medical history, but I do know that the level of injury on an ancient battlefield would have been staggering. The sight or sound of your unit’s medicus would have been something sent from the gods themselves.

Imagine a clash of armies – thousands of men wielding swords, spears and daggers at close quarters. Then lob some volleys of arrows into the chaos. Perhaps a charge of heavy cavalry? How about heavy artillery bolts or boulders slamming into massed ranks of men?

Roman Legionaries (illustrated by Peter Dennis)

It would have been one big, bloody, savage mess.

Apart from the usual cuts, slashes, and puncture wounds, the warriors would have suffered shattered bones, fractured skulls, lost limbs, severed arteries, sword, spear and arrow shafts that pushed through armour on into organs.

If you weren’t dead right away, you most likely would have been a short time later.

This is where the ancient field medic could have made the difference for an army. He would have been going through numerous patients in a short period of time. He would have had to decide who was a lost cause, who could no longer fight, and who could be patched up before being sent back out onto the field of slaughter.

The medicus of a Roman legion was an unsung hero whose skill was a product of accumulated centuries of knowledge, study, and experience.

Model showing Tiber Island

When it came to ancient Rome, the centre of health and healing was Tiber Island, and its foundation has a most fascinating story…

Tiber Island is a boat-shaped mass in the middle of the River Tiber where it runs through Rome. It was connected to the Field of Mars by the Pons Fabricius, and to the right bank, where modern Trastevere is, by the Pons Cestius.

The legend goes that the island was formed when, after the fall of the Etruscan tyrant, Tarquinius Superbus, in 510 B.C., the angry Romans threw his body into the Tiber where silt subsequently formed around it.

Another legend is that after the same tyrant died, the people hated him so much that they took all of his grain stores and threw it all into the river where it became the island.

Sic semper tyrannis, as the Romans would say…

Tarquinius Superbus

Whatever the reason for the creation of Tiber Island, it seems that it was, early on, a place to be avoided as it was where criminals and the terminally ill were sent.

The story gets very interesting in 293 B.C. when a great plague hit Rome.

When the plague arrived, the Senate consulted the Sibyl, the Oracle of Apollo at Cumae, who told the Romans that they should build a temple to Aesculapius (Asklepios in Greek) in the city of Rome.

A delegation of Romans was sent to Epidaurus where Aesculapius’ most famous sanctuary was located, so that they could obtain a statue of the god for the proposed temple.

The delegation also obtained one of the sacred snakes from Epidaurus.

Aesculapian Snake – zemenis longissimus (Wikimedia Commons)

The story goes that as soon as the delegation returned to their ship with the statue and sacred serpent, the snake immediately curled itself about the main mast for the return journey to Rome. They took this as a good omen.

When the ship sailed down the Tiber and entered the city of Rome, the snake moved, slithered off of the ship into the water, and swam to Tiber Island where it settled itself.

The Romans took it as a sign that this was where they should build the temple of Aesculapius.

Since that time, Tiber Island has been identified with that ship, and even modelled to resemble it with travertine facing forming it to look like a ship’s prow and stern in the first century B.C., and an enormous obelisk erected to represent the mast of the ship that brought the statue and sacred serpent to Rome from Greece.

One can still see the carving of Aesculapius’ rod and serpent on the ship’s prow to this day!

Carving of the serpent and rod on the ‘prow’ of Tiber Island

In time, other shrines were built on Tiber Island such as to Jupiter Jurarius (Guarantor of Oaths), Semo Sancus Dius Fidius (Witness of Oaths), Faunus (the spirit of Boundaries), Vediovis (God of Healing), Tiberinus (the River God), and to Bellona (Goddess of War).

There was also a festival of Aesculapius and Vediovis every year on the first of January.

Just as it is today, good health was important to the Romans!

Statue of Aesculapius (Asklepios)

With the establishment of the sanctuary of Aesculapius on Tiber Island, the healing practices of Epidaurus were brought to Rome, including the use of the sacred snakes which were, it is believed, the species known as zemenis longissimus, a non-venomous serpent that could grow up to two meters in length.

The doctors also employed the use of sacred dogs whose licks were said to be healing for some patients. It is not surprising, I suppose, considering that some dogs can sniff out cancer, or restore circulation to injured limbs through licking.

Do the practices of the doctors of Tiber Island actually work in the story of Sincerity is a Goddess? Well, you have to read the book to find out. There is, we can say with certainty, a bit with a dog, a doctor with some interesting prescriptions, healing dreams, votive offerings, and a connection between Rome and ancient Epidaurus that is certainly felt on a deep level.

Votive fingurine of a ‘healing dog’ (Museum of Wales)

I’ve but barely scratched the vast surface on this topic.

For some, there is this assumption that ancient medicine was somehow false, crude and barbaric. But modern western medicine owes much to the Greeks and Romans, civilian and military, who travelled the Empire caring for their troops and gathering what knowledge and knowhow they could.

The fusion of science, religious practice, and magic provides for a fascinating mix. In truth, medical practices in medieval Europe were more barbaric than in the ancient world.

We owe much to the followers of Aesculapius and the traditions that flowed from ancient Epidaurus to the heart of Rome where there is still a working hospital on Tiber Island.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in hardcover, paperback, and ebook 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.

 

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part VI – Epidaurus: Place of Dreams and Healing

Happy New Year, and 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 V on prostitution in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In Part VI, we’re going to be exploring one of the most important theatrical and healing sites from the ancient world: Epidaurus.

We hope you find it interesting…

Theatre of Epidaurus (photo: Dimitrios Pallis, IG @pallisd)

You may be wondering what a blog post about an ancient Greek theatre and sanctuary has to do with a story set in ancient Rome.

Well, let me tell you, it has a lot to do with it. Not only was the healing sanctuary at ancient Epidaurus well-known in the Roman world, but the great theatre there also plays an important role in Sincerity is a Goddess. However, not in the way you might think.

Don’t worry though, for there are no spoilers if you haven’t read the book yet.

In this post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at the two faces of ancient Epidaurus – the theatre itself, and the sanctuary of Asklepios which was renowned across the ancient world for its healing…and snakes!

Let’s get into it!

Plan of the Theatre of Epidaurus

Firstly, as Epidaurus is, today, famous for its well preserved odeon, and as Sincerity is a Goddess is partially a story about a theatre troupe, we’ll start with the theatre itself.

I’ve been to this site several times in the past, and I never tire of it. Some places are like that, I suppose. You can visit them again and again, and each time you do you get a different perspective that adds to your overall impression of the site.

The theatre of Epidaurus is like that.

For the history-lover in me, going there is like visiting a wise old friend. We greet each other, sit back in the sunshine, reminisce, and contemplate the world before us.

There is something comforting about going back to familiar places.

When you enter the archaeological site from the ticket booths and follow the path, you find the museum on your left, its wall lined with marble blocks covered in votive inscriptions from the sanctuary of Asklepios (more on that shortly). 

I don’t know why, but every time we visit Epidaurus, I’m always drawn to the theatre first. Perhaps it is more familiar, simpler than the archaeological site of the sanctuary opposite? You walk up the steep stone steps beneath scented pine trees and then, there it is!

The theatre lies in the blinding sunlight all limestone and marble, rising up in perfect symmetry before you with the mountains beyond.

It’s always a shock to stand there and see it for the first time, this perfect titan, an ancient stage beneath a clear blue sky where the works of Euripides, Aeschylus, Aristophanes, Sophocles and so many more have entertained the masses and provoked thought in the minds of mortals for well over two thousand years. 

In ancient times, one’s view from this vantage would have been partially blocked by the stage building, or scaena, but as it is today, you have a perfect view over the ruins of that building’s foundations.

Side entrance to the orchestra

The Epidaurians have a theatre within the sanctuary, in my opinion very well worth seeing. For while the Roman theatres are far superior to those anywhere else in their splendour, and the Arcadian theatre at Megalopolis is unequalled for size, what architect could seriously rival Polycleitus in symmetry and beauty? For it was Polycleitus who built both this theatre and the circular building. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.27.5)

The theatre of Epidaurus is considered the best-constructed and most elegant theatre of the ancient world. It was built in the 4th century B.C by the sculptor and architect, Polykleitos the Younger, who also designed the tholos in the sanctuary nearby. 

The theatre sat 14,000 spectators, and every one of them could see the stage and hear every momentous word that was spoken. 

As people are wont to do when visiting this theatre, I’ve stood at the centre of the stage (the orchestra), and dropped a coin so that my family and friends could hear it where they sat at the top row.

Then I speak…

It is a surreal, dreamlike experience to do so, from that orchestra, for your voice is so loud in your ears, you can’t quite grasp what is happening at first. It feels like you are speaking into a microphone, your voice amplified. But there are, of course, no electronics, just an ancient perfection of design that has set the standard for ages. 

You don’t want to tumble down this aisle!

I always climb the long central isle to the top row and sit down to take it all in. It’s a long way up, but the top provides the perfect vantage point of the sanctuary and landscape surrounding Epidaurus. I love to just sit there and listen to the cicadas, take in the view, and enjoy the dry, pine-scented air. 

I’ve had the privilege of seeing Gerard Dépardieu perform in Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex, and Isabella Rossellini in an adaptation of Stravinsky’s Persephone in the theatre of Epidaurus. It was amazing to watch such wonderful actors giving a performance there, and it was obvious too that they were enjoying the space, the tradition they were taking part in. 

The last play I saw at Epidaurus was a performance of Aristophanes’ Lysistrata, a comedy in which the women of Greece withhold sex from all the men in order to put an end to the Peloponnesian War.

Isabella Rossellini in ‘Persephone’

When you see a play at Epidaurus, the audience is also participating in an ancient tradition. How many people have gone before us, sat in those seats, laughed and wept at the drama being played out before them?

It’s difficult not to think about that when you sit in the seats of Epidaurus. Whether you are basking in the hot rays of the Mediterranean sun, or waiting for a play to begin as the sun goes down and the stars appear, Centaurus and Cygnus twinkling in the sky above, one thing is certain – you will never forget the moments that you spend there.

Next, we’re going to venture away from the theatre for a brief visit to the museum, and then on into the peace and quiet of the Sanctuary of Asklepios, a place of miracles and ancient healing that was famous across the Greek and Roman worlds.

Looking north from the theatre to the sanctuary

When you enter the abode of the god

Which smells of incense, you must be pure

And thought is pure when you think with piety

This is the inscription that greeted pilgrims who passed through the propylaia, the main gate to the north, into the sanctuary of the god, Asklepios, at ancient Epidaurus.

The ancient writer, Pausanias, gives us some interesting insights…

The sacred grove of Asclepius is surrounded on all sides by boundary marks. No death or birth takes place within the enclosure. The same custom prevails also in the island of Delos. All the offerings, whether the offerer be one of the Epidaurians themselves or a stranger, are entirely consumed within the bounds. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.27.1) 

After the glory of the ancient theatre, it feels like something of a contrast to step into the quiet realm of the sanctuary of the God of Healing. This was a place that was famous around the ancient world for the miracles of health and healing that occurred there.

But perhaps the contrast is not so great? After all, Asklepios was the son of Apollo – an interesting union of healing and art – and it could be argued that the experiences one had in the theatre and the sanctuary were both transformative and healing.

Toward the back of the sanctuary there is a small, but wonderful, site museum that is well worth a visit for the collection of architectural and everyday artifacts. 

The vestibule contains cabinets filled with oil lamps, containers and phials that were used for medicines and ointments within the sanctuary, as well as surgical implements and votive offerings.

Medical Instruments in the Epidaurus museum

Above the cabinets and into the main room of the museum, there are reliefs and cornices from the temple of Asklepios decorated with lion heads, acanthus and meander designs, many of which still have the original paint on them.

However, in the first part of the museum are some plain-looking stele that are covered in inscriptions recording the remedies given at Epidaurus, and the miracles of healing at the sanctuary in ancient times. These inscriptions are where much of our knowledge of the sanctuary comes from.

Stele with accounts of healing at the sanctuary, as well as quotes of the Hymn to Apollo

In the main part of the museum, your eyes are drawn, once more, to the magnificent remains of the tholos and the temple of Asklepios – ornate Corinthian capitals, cornices decorated with lion heads, and the elaborately-carved roof sections of the temple’s cella, the inner sanctum. 

There are statues of Athena and Asklepios that had adorned various parts of the sanctuary, and the winged Nikes that stood high above pilgrims, gazing out from the corners of the roof of the temple of Artemis, the second largest temple of the sanctuary.

The Museum Interior

I wonder if people walking through the museum realize how beautiful the statues are, the meaning they held for those who came to the sanctuary in search of help?

After one cools off in the museum, it’s time to head for the sanctuary of Asklepios just north of the museum and theatre.

Every time I’ve visited, the sanctuary itself is usually completely empty.

It seems that most visitors head for the theatre alone, some to the museum afterward, but most do not want to tough it out among the ruins of one of the most famous sanctuaries in the ancient world.

The Sanctuary of Asklepios from the North

The Sanctuary of Asklepios lies on the Argolid plain, with Mt. Arachnaio and Mr. Titthion to the north. The former was said to have been a home of Zeus and Hera, and the latter, whose gentle slopes lead down to the plain, was said to have been where Asklepios was born.

To the south of the sanctuary is Mt. Kynortion, where there was a shrine to Apollo, Asklepios’ father. Farther to the south are the wooded slopes of Mt. Koryphaia, where the goddess Artemis is said to have wandered. 

This is a land of myth and legend, a world of peace and healing, green and mild, dotted with springs. The sanctuary was actually called ‘the sacred grove’.

Asklepios, as a god of healing, was worshiped at Epidaurus from the 5th century B.C. to the 4th century A.D. According to archaeologist Angeliki Charitsonidou, it was the sick who turned to Asklepios, people who had lost all hope of recovery – the blind, the lame, the paralyzed, the dumb, the wounded, the sterile – all of them wanting a miracle.

Asklepios

But who was Asklepios?

Some believed he learned medicine from the famous centaur, Cheiron, in Thessaly. Another tale from the Homeric age makes Asklepios a mortal man, a king of Thessaly, whose sons Machaon and Podaleirios fought in the Trojan War and learned medicine from their father.

Eventually, it came to be believed that Asklepios was a demigod, born of a union between Apollo and a mortal woman. His father was also a god of healing, and prophecy and healing, in the ancient world, went hand-in-hand. The snake was a prophetic creature, and a creature of healing, so it is no wonder this animal came to be associated with Asklepios and medicine.

At Epidaurus, snakes were regarded as sacred, as a daemonic force used in healing at the sanctuary. These small, tame, blondish snakes were so revered that Roman emperors would send for them when in need. Once again, Pausanias gives us some insight:

The serpents, including a peculiar kind of a yellowish colour, are considered sacred to Asklepios, and are tame with men. These are peculiar to Epidauria, and I have noticed that other lands have their peculiar animals. For in Libya only are to be found land crocodiles at least two cubits long; from India alone are brought, among other creatures, parrots. But the big snakes that grow to more than thirty cubits, such as are found in India and in Libya, are said by the Epidaurians not to be serpents, but some other kind of creature. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, 2.28.1)

Now you know where this symbol comes from!

I’ll stick with the tame blond snakes, thank you very much!

The thing about Asklepios was that he was said to know the secret of death, that he had the ability to reverse it because he was born of his own mother’s death. Zeus, as king of the gods, believed that this went against the natural order, and so he killed Asklepios with a bolt of lightning.

There are no written records of medical interventions by the priests of Epidaurus in the early centuries of its existence. The healing that occurred was only through the appearance of the god himself. However, over time the priesthood of Epidaurus began to question patients about their ailments, and prescribe routines of healing or exercise that would carry out the instructions given to pilgrims by Asklepios in the all-important dreams, the enkoimesis, which they had in the abato of the sanctuary. 

It is quite a feeling to walk the grounds of the sanctuary at Epidaurus, to be in a place where people believed they had been touched or aided by a god, and actual miracles had occurred and were recorded. 

Faith and the Gods are a big part of ancient history, and cannot be separated from the everyday. I’ve always found that I get much more out of a site, a better connection, when I keep that in mind. You have to remove the goggles of hindsight and modern doubt to understand the ancient world and its people. 

From the museum you walk past the ruins of the hospice, or the ‘Great Lodge’, a massive square building that was 76 meters on each side, two-storied, and contained rooms around four courtyards. This is where later pilgrims and visitors to the sanctuary, and the games that were held in the stadium there, would stay.

Map of the Sanctuary (from the site guide book)

Without a map of what you are looking at, it’s difficult to pick out the various structures. Most of the remains are rubble with only the foundations visible. This sanctuary was packed with buildings, and apart from a few bath houses, a palaestra, a gymnasium, a Roman odeion, the stadium and a large stoa, there are some ruins that one is drawn to, notably the temples. 

The sanctuary of Asklepios has several temples the largest being dedicated to the God of Healing himself, within which there stood a large chryselephantine statue of Asklepios.

There were also temples to Artemis (the second largest on-site), Aphrodite, Themis, Apollo and Asklepios of Egypt (a Roman addition), and the Epidoteio which was a shrine to the divinities Hypnos (sleep), Oneiros (Dream), and Hygeia (Health). These latter divinities were key to the healing process at Epidaurus.

Ancient Epidaurus was a sacred escape where the mind, body, and soul could recuperate. It is a place of sunlight and heat, of fresh air and green trees set against a backdrop of mountains tinged with salt from the not-too-distant sea. Cicadas yammer on in a bucolic frenzy, and bees and butterflies wend their way among the fallen pieces of the ancient world as your feet crunch along on the gravel pathway, past the ruins of the palaestra, gymnasium, and odeion to an intersection in the sacred precinct of the sanctuary.

Reconstruction of the Temple of Asklepios’ south side (from site guide book)

Here you find the temple of Artemis to your right as you face the ruins of what was the magnificent temple of Asklepios to the north. You can see the foundations, the steps leading up. 

The image of Asklepios is, in size, half as big as the Olympian Zeus at Athens, and is made of ivory and gold. An inscription tells us that the artist was Thrasymedes, a Parian, son of Arignotus. The god is sitting on a seat grasping a staff; the other hand he is holding above the head of the serpent; there is also a figure of a dog lying by his side. On the seat are wrought in relief the exploits of Argive heroes, that of Bellerophon against the Chimaera, and Perseus, who has cut off the head of Medusa. 

(Pausanias, Description of Greece, Book 2.27.2)

It is interesting that in a place where dreams were part of healing, the images carved on the seat of Asklepios portray some of the greatest heroes fighting and defeating their own ‘monsters’.

How many people in need had walked, limped or crawled up those steps seeking the god’s favour.

On your left you see a large, flat area of worn marble that was once the great altar of Apollo where pilgrims made blood sacrifices to Apollo and Asklepios in the form of oxen or cockerels, or bloodless offerings like fruit, flowers, or money.

Remains of the Great Altar of Apollo

Standing there, you can imagine the scene – smoke wafting out of the surrounding temples with the strong smell of incense, the slow drip of blood down the sides of the great altar, the tender laying of herbs and flowers upon the white marble, all in the hopes of healing. 

As people would have stood at the great altar, they would have seen one of the key structures of the sanctuary beyond it, just to the west – the tholos.

The tholos was a round temple that was believed to be the dwelling place of Asklepios himself. It was here that, after a ritual purification with water from the sanctuary, that pilgrims underwent some sort of religious ordeal underground in the narrow corridors of a labyrinth that lay beneath the floor of the tholos’ cella, the inner sanctum.

Reconstruction of Epidaurian Tholos and Temple of Asklepios (photo reconstruction: CNN)

After their ritual ordeal, pilgrims would be led to the abato, a long rectangular building to the north of the tholos and temple of Asklepios.

The abato is where pilgrims’ souls would be tested by way of the enkoimesis, a curative dream that they had while spending the night in the abato.

Miracles happened in this place, and there are over 70 recorded inscriptions that have survived which detail some of them – mute children suddenly being able to speak, sterile women conceiving after their visit to sanctuary, a boy covered in blemishes that went away after carrying out the treatment given to him by Asklepios in a dream. There are many such stories that have survived, and probably many that we do not know of. 

Inside the partially restored Abato

As you stand in the abato, careful not to step on any snakes that may be hiding along the base of the walls, it’s a time to reflect on the examples of healing on the posted placard. It seemed that the common thread to all the dreams that patients had was that Asklepios visited them in their dreams and, either touched them, or prescribed a treatment which subsequently worked. 

Relief of Asklepios healing a dreamer

Sleep. Dream. Health.

When I think of those divinities who were also worshiped at Epidaurus, right alongside Asklepios, it doesn’t seem so far-fetched. In fact, standing there, in that place of peace and tranquility, it seems highly likely.

The people mentioned on the votive inscriptions – those who left vases, bronzes, statues, altars, buildings and fountains as thank offerings to the god and his sanctuary for the help they received – those people were real, as real as you and me. They confronted sickness, disease, and worry, just as we do.

Today, some people turn to their chosen god for help when they are in despair. Others turn to the medical professionals whom they hope have the skill and compassion to cure them.

At ancient Epidaurus, people could get help from both gods and skilled healers, each one dependent on and respectful of the other.

This place haunts me in a way. I always think about how special this place is, how the voices of Epidaurus, its sanctuary, and its great theatre, will never die or fade.

Indeed, just as Asklepios was said to have done, this is a place that defies death and time.

Remains of Temple of Asklepios

It is indeed fitting that the theatre and sanctuary go together, for both are healing experiences, forcing the mortal attendees to look inward, to delve into the darker depths of their selves to observe their own trials and tribulations so that they can manage their healing. 

Theatre is a transformative experience, and so it and the healing sanctuary both deserve their places beside each other, as well they do in the pages of Sincerity is a Goddess.

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.

 

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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.

The Slave Market – oil painting by Gustave Boulanger, 1886 (Wikimedia Commons)

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.

The She-Wolf suckling the brothers, Romulus and Remus

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.

A lupa and her patron

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.

A lupa’s ‘office’ or ‘cell’ in Pompeii – a cement bed that would have been covered with a matress and pillows

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.

The decor of Pompeii’s lupanar – a ‘menu’ of sorts (Wikimedia Commons)

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.

The Great Lupanar of Pompeii

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.

A sexual scene from Pompeii’s great lupanar

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.

Lupanar scene from Pompeii

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.

 

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Sincerity is a Goddess is a Triumph!

Eagles and Dragons Publishing is proud to announce that our latest release, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome, has been awarded 5 Stars and the ‘Highly Recommended Award of Excellence’ by the Historical Fiction Company.

We are thrilled with the very kind words from the reviewers who posted a very lengthy, detailed review of the book.

Here are some excerpts from the review…

“Sincerity is a Goddess features a large cast of colorful characters that readers will fall in love with. Each one is unique, well developed, and remains believable as a character from ancient Rome. There is a large cast of characters and some readers may find it difficult to keep them all straight. It is clear the author anticipated this because the author includes a list of characters at the beginning of the book which will prove to be invaluable for many readers. The list includes both the characters’ names as well as a short description of each person so readers can quickly reference this list for a reminder if they become confused about characters.

The real gem of Sincerity is a Goddess is the author’s writing styles. Haviaras writes in a way that readers will find themselves immersed in the story quickly. Beautiful imagery and excellent character-related descriptions allow the reader to feel as if he or she were right there watching Felix Modestus and The Etrurian Players prepare for the biggest roles they will have. Haviaras was also able to describe the emotions of the characters in a way that builds empathy in the readers easily.

It is clear that the author has done extensive research about both ancient Rome and Roman mythology. Haviaras portrays both his character, settings, and events in a way that is very true to the time period while also making them very relatable to the modern reader. More evidence of Haviaras’ knowledge of ancient Rome is his use of both a variety of historically accurate vocabulary as well as Latin words. The Latin words could potentially pose a problem for some readers so, like his characters, Havarias remedies this by including a list of Latin terms at the end of the book that readers can easily reference. Roman mythology is deeply embedded throughout the novel and the author has done a fantastic job portraying the gods through their actions and influence with the mortal characters as true to the style of many Roman myths.

Humor is often difficult to incorporate throughout a historical fiction novel but Haviaras has done a fantastic job of weaving humor relevant to the historical setting throughout the novel as well. The humor, romance, and drama in this book combine to create an unforgettable novel that will appeal to a wide audience of riders. The book is quite lengthy which may prove to be a deterrent to some readers. However, the excellent pacing and humor makes the book a bit easier to get through despite its length. The length is also justified by the events of the story. Nothing seems to be extraneous or unneeded in the plot.

Sincerity is a Goddess by Adam Alexander Haviaras is a fun book that will touch readers’ hearts while making them laugh out loud. The modern writing combined with the historical setting and Roman mythology creates a book that is both enjoyable, entertaining, and even a bit educational at times. Readers will appreciate the historical accuracy as well as the humor that this book brings to the table. More than anything, Sincerity is a Goddess is the perfect book when you need a chuckle but also a beautiful reminder of the hope that can be found everywhere.”

– The Historical Fiction Company

To read the full review on the Historical Fiction Company website, just CLICK HERE.

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 or get ISBN# information for the edition of your choice.

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

 

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