Roman Empire

by

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.

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

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.

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

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.

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part IV – The Games of Apollo

Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!

Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we share the research for our latest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

If you missed the third post on humour and comedy in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In part four of this blog series, we’re going to be looking at games, or ludi, in ancient Rome, and then specifically at the games in the book, the Ludi Apollinares, the Games of Apollo.

Let’s get started

Ludi, or public games, were an important occurrence on the Roman calendar. Not only did they give the gods their due through religious rites and rituals, but they also gave the people a chance to unwind and enjoy themselves.

Apart from the often very specific religious rituals dedicated to whichever deity the games honoured, there were often also processions, chariot races and theatrical performances. Early on, most ludi did not include gladiatorial combat as these were reserved for funeral games alone, or ludi funebris.

Not only did games in ancient Rome provide some much needed distraction for the people from the dangers of the day, they were also a way for politicians to buy votes. The reason for this is that, though games received some funding from the state, most of the cost of ludi were paid for by wealthy citizens.

General representation of the steps along the cursus honorum during the Republican and Imperial periods.

When it came to positions on the Cursus Honorum of Roman politics, the responsibility of putting on, and funding, games most often lay with the aediles, those four politicians who were at least 37 years old and were charged with looking after the interests of the city of Rome. They looked after temples, markets, streets, squares, brothels, baths, and the water supply. Very important jobs indeed.

The aediles – and sometimes praetors – were also to ensure the success of the public games.

As mentioned, the Roman state did provide a very basic operating budget for games. For example, the Ludi Romani in honour of Jupiter, held from September 5-19, at one point received 760,000 sestercii, and the Ludi Plebii, held from November 4-17, received 600,000 sestercii. The rest – which was the majority of the expense – was paid for by the aedile or praetor sponsoring the games.

These games were extremely important events on the Roman calendar, a time when the lower classes could let go and enjoy feasts and entertainments for free, and when the upper classes could see and be seen.

Preparation for a Sacrifice

Different ludi were dedicated to individual deities, and so religious ceremonies, often with very specific sacrifices, were also a part of the games.

Games were, first and foremost, considered sacred acts.

Games were also founded to commemorate victories, and this became a point of pride for rulers and politicians. An example of this is in the Emperor Augustus’ Res Gestae, or ‘Things Done’:

Three times I held gladiatorial spectacle in my own name and five times in the names of my sons or grandsons; in which spectacles some ten-thousand men took part in combat. Twice in my own name and a third time in the name of my grandson, I provided a public display of athletes summoned from all parts. I held games four times in my own name and twenty-three times on behalf of other magistrates… I have provided public spectacles of the hunting of wild beasts twenty-six times in my own name or that of my sons and grandsons, in the Circus or the Forum or the amphitheatres in which three-thousand five-hundred beasts have been killed.

(Res Gestae XXII)

Today, if someone boasted of so much killing, they would be considered a human abomination in most countries, but in the world of ancient Rome, acts such as these were considered extremely generous, gifts for the people, actions which helped to secure the favour of the people.

If the mob of Rome was happy, they did not cause trouble.

A Venatio – A Roman Animal Hunt

There were different types of ludi as well. There could be ludi votivi, which were held in fulfillment of a vow, or ludi funebris, which were funeral games paid for by a dead person’s family. Public ludi, as we have mentioned, were paid for by the state and the aediles or praetors.

The oldest games are said to be the Ludi Romani which were dedicated to Jupiter and are thought to have been held since 509 B.C. when the temple of Jupiter was dedicated on the Capitol of Rome.

Other games that dotted the Roman calendar were the Ludi Cereri held in honour of Ceres from about 202 B.C., the Ludi Plebii also held for Jupiter from about 216 B.C., the Ludi Megalensi, held in honour of Cybele, and the Ludi Taurii, held in honour of Mars.

And then there were the Ludi Apollinares which are a part of the story of Sincerity is a Goddess.

Apollo pouring a libation

The advent of the Ludi Apollinares, the Games of Apollo, are a bit different in their origin from some of the other games. They were begun in the wake of one of the worst defeats in Rome’s history, and born out of a prophecy that was found after the fact. Let me explain…

The Ludi Apollinares were first held in 212 B.C. during the second Punic War, four years after Hannibal’s crushing defeat of Rome’s legions at the battle of Cannae.

In the wake of this defeat, with Hannibal at the gates of Rome, Hannibal ante portas!, the Romans found a prophecy in the Carmina Marciana, the prophecies of the seer, Marcius. Livy, recounts this in his history of Rome…

The importance attached to one of the two predictions of Marcius, which was brought to light after the event to which it related had occurred, and the truth of which was confirmed by the event, attached credence to the other, the time of whose fulfilment had not yet arrived. In the former prophecy, the disaster at Cannae was predicted in nearly these words: “Roman of Trojan descent, fly the river Canna, lest foreigners should compel thee to fight in the plain of Diomede. But thou wilt not believe me until thou shalt have filled the plain with blood, and the river carries into the great sea, from the fruitful land, many thousands of your slain countrymen, and thy flesh becomes a prey for fishes, birds, and beasts inhabiting the earth. For thus hath Jupiter declared to me.” Those who had served in that quarter recognized the correspondence with respect to the plains of the Argive Diomede and the river Canna, as well as the defeat itself.

(Livy, The History of Rome, Book XXV, 12)

The Death of Paulus Aemilius at the Battle of Cannae (John Trumbull 1773)

The discovery of this prophecy made the Romans take action. We have to remember that this was one of the most terrifying periods in Rome’s history. Hannibal was at the gates of the city, he had defeated a far larger force in one of history’s great victories at the battle of Cannae to the south, on Italian soil.

The Romans did not want to experience such a defeat again and so the Ludi Apollinares were instituted originally as votive games for two purposes: to acquire the gods’ aid in expelling the Carthaginians from Italy, and to protect the Roman Republic from all dangers. They were, originally to be held once, but the year after, the senate passed a decree based on the proposal of the praetor, Calpurnius, that the Ludi Apollinares be held every year as circumstances allowed, i.e. with no fixed date.

In 208 B.C., after a plague in the city, the praetor, Varus, put forward a bill that the Games be held every year on the specific date of July 6th.

And so, the Ludi Apollinares became a permanent part of the Roman festival calendar.

But what did these games entail?

Luckily, another prophecy in the Carmina Marciana prescribed the specific rituals and sacrifices that should be performed to honour Apollo. Again, Livy recounts this:

The other prophecy was then read, which was more obscure, not only because future events are more uncertain than past, but also from being more perplexed in its style of composition. “Romans, if you wish to expel the enemy and the ulcer which has come from afar, I advise, that games should be vowed, which may be performed in a cheerful manner annually to Apollo; when the people shall have given a portion of money from the public coffers, that private individuals then contribute, each according to his ability. That the praetor shall preside in the celebration of these games, who holds the supreme administration of justice to the people and commons. Let the decemviri perform sacrifice with victims after the Grecian fashion. If you do these things properly you will ever rejoice, and your affairs will be more prosperous, for that deity will destroy your enemies who now, composedly, feed upon your plains.” They took one day to explain this prophecy. The next day a decree of the senate was passed, that the decemviri should inspect the books relating to the celebration of games and sacred rites in honour of Apollo. After they had been consulted, and a report made to the senate, the fathers voted, that “games should be vowed to Apollo and celebrated; and that when the games were concluded, twelve thousand asses should be given to the praetor to defray the expense of sacred ceremonies, and also two victims of the larger sort.” A second decree was passed, that “the decemviri should perform sacrifice in the Grecian mode, and with the following victims: to Apollo, with a gilded ox, and two white goats gilded; to Latona, with a gilded heifer.” When the praetor was about to celebrate the games in the Circus Maximus, he issued an order, that during the celebration of the games, the people should pay a contribution, as large as was convenient, for the service of Apollo. This is the origin of the Apollinarian games, which were vowed and celebrated in order to achieve victory, and not restoration to health, as is commonly supposed. The people viewed the spectacle in garlands; the matrons made supplications; the people in general feasted in the courts of their houses, throwing the doors open; and the day was distinguished by every description of ceremony.

(Livy, The History of Rome, Book XXV, 12)

It is truly fascinating to read this passage for it is quite specific from the amount to be spent by the state, and the specific animals with gilded horns to be offered to Apollo and Latona (i.e. Leto, his mother), and that this should be done in the Greek fashion, the ritus Graecus, that is, with the head uncovered for the sacrifice.

The prophecy also prescribes a joyful atmosphere that is pleasing to the gods in which people offer what they can, wear garlands, and dine together with the doors of their homes thrown open.

Sacrifices were central to Roman Ludi

At these first games of Apollo, most of the events took place in the Circus Maximus of Rome and included chariot races – by far Rome’s most popular pastime – animal hunts, religious processions and, most importantly to our story, theatrical performances.

Interestingly, we have a record of one of the specific plays performed in the games of 169 B.C. and that was the revenge tragedy of Thyestes who was King of Olympia and the son of Pelops and Hippodameia.

I think it is a safe assumption that though theatrical performance was originally a small part of the games of Apollo, over time, more would have been included, especially under such emperors as Nero, who saw himself as a great performer.

The Ludi Apollinares were smaller games than the Ludi Romani or Ludi Plebii. After all, they received less funding. But, they did grow in popularity and, eventually, they went from being celebrated for one day on July 13th, to being held for eight days from July 6th to 13th.

More events would have been held over this extended period, and though it was still, at heart, a religious and votive festival, the theatre played a large part in it.

Apollo

We can end on a small anecdote that I came across in my research that illustrates this and the importance of properly seeing through the required rituals. 

In the second year of the games, in 211 B.C. there is a story that during a theatrical performance for the Ludi Apollinares, a cry and panic went up in the audience that Hannibal was at the gates – Hannibal ante portas!

The spectators rushed from the theatre to get their weapons and fight to defend the city. However, it turned out to be a false alarm.

When the audience members returned to the theatre, and the play that had been so harshly interrupted, they found the dancer still dancing, and the accompanying flute player still playing! It was a marathon performance for the two, and the audience cried out “All is saved!”

Hannibal did not attack the city.

I don’t know for certain if this story is true, but it is a good one!

The show must go on and, it seems, in ancient Rome, it was indeed a matter of life and death!

Thank you for reading.

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

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

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

Saturnalia – A New Audiobook from Eagles and Dragons Publishing!

Salvete, Readers and History-Lovers!

Since it was officially formed as a company in 2014, Eagles and Dragons Publishing has been designing and producing quality ebooks and paperbacks for each of our titles.

And there have been a lot of exciting changes! We are growing as a company.

In 2021, we moved our cover design in-house, and in 2022 we began producing our very first, carefully crafted, hardcover books with wonderful results. And we’re continuing to put out more!

But there was always a piece missing: Audiobooks.

The reason for this is that audiobook production is extremely time-consuming and very costly… Unless you do it yourself.

Many of our readers began to ask about audiobooks, and so, we polled them to ask what they would prefer: an audiobook with professional actors playing our characters, or an in-house production with the author reading his or her own work.

As it turns out, 98% preferred an audiobook that was read by the author.

It is here that we should give a huge shout-out to our Patreon patrons for their generous monthly support, for it allowed us to begin acquiring the audio recording equipment we needed to make all of this happen. Thank you Patrons!

Adam at work on Saturnalia in the Eagles and Dragons Publishing recording booth

After some months of learning what is involved in recording an audiobook – technical specifications, soundproofing, and even learning how to read aloud for an extended period of time – Adam finally got down to recording! And, as with anything, the first try was definitely a learning experience. But we got there!

And so, today we’re thrilled to announce the official launch of Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s very first audiobook release, Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome!

There are also Saturnalia Book Boxes available in the AGORA HERE.

We thought it would be prudent to begin our audiobook creation journey with a shorter novel, but also one that listeners could enjoy at this time of year. And with the start of the ancient Roman festival of Saturnalia just around the corner, on December 17th, we thought this would be perfect.

This is not a big production with a cast of actors and sound effects. Just as some of our readers requested, our audiobooks are going to consist of the author reading his or her own work, just as if they were sitting with you at home, reading by the fire.

We hope you enjoy the experience.

Saturnalia, the audiobook, is being distributed to new retailers every week, but it is already available to purchase at a special launch price until November 30th, 2022 at the following audiobook retailers:

Kobo, Walmart

Google Play

Chirp

Scribd

NOOK Audiobooks

Libro.FM 

BingeBooks

Storytel

If you have a smart speaker at home, you can ask ‘it’ to play the book for you to add a little festive atmosphere to your home his holiday season.

It’s a new adventure for our books, and we’re very excited to have you along for the ride!

Adam is already at work recording the next audiobook, so stay tuned for more titles.

In the meantime, we hope you enjoy listening to Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome!

Io Saturnalia! (a little early).

Thank you for reading.

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part III – Humour and Comedy in Ancient Rome

Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!

Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we share the research for our latest novel, Sincerity is a Goddess: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome.

If you missed the second post on theatres in ancient Rome, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.

In part three of this blog series, we’re going to be looking at humour and dramatic comedy in ancient Rome, including stock characters and popular themes.

Let’s dive in!

Laughing Legionaries

An Abderite [from Abdera in Thrace] saw a eunuch and asked him how many kids he had. When that guy said that he didn’t have the balls, so as to be able to have children, the Abderite asked when he was going to get the balls.

(Philagelos, #114)

Is that funny to you? Maybe a little? Or does it make you scratch your head and wonder?

The joke above is actually a Roman joke about 2000 years old. Yes, that old. It’s one of 250-odd jokes in the oldest joke book in the world known as the Philagelos, or ‘The Laughter Lover’. It is thought that this text is a compendium of jokes over several hundred years. The earliest manuscript is thought to date to the 4th or 5th centuries A.D. 

Humour in the ancient world was not really something I’d thought about in my writing and research until I began work on Sincerity is a Goddess. If there has ever been humour in my books, it has been a reflection of my own modern perceptions of what humour is, or should be. Otherwise, my modern readers would be left scratching their heads.

Salve, Titus! Heard any good jokes lately?

Several years ago, I heard an interview with eminent classicist and historian Mary Beard on the subject of her book about humour in the Roman world entitled: Laughter in Ancient Rome: On Joking, Tickling, and Cracking Up. This is a wonderful book that will give you a whole new perspective on people in ancient Rome.

Anyway, until my research for this novel, my idea of humour in the ancient world was partly based on the musical A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum by the brilliant Stephen Sondheim. The latter is not a completely inaccurate view since the story is based on the farces of the Roman playwright Plautus (251–183 BC) – more on him later in this series.

Bawdiness played a large role from the theatre to the marching songs of Rome’s legionaries. 

Slap stick comedy was a part of humour in the ancient world, but Professor Beard put forth the idea that there are other aspects of ancient humour which we might not, or cannot, understand. 

A professional beggar had been letting his girlfriend think that he was rich and of noble birth. Once, when he was getting a handout at the neighbour’s house, he suddenly saw her. He turned around and said: “Have my dinner-clothes sent here.”

(Philagelos, #106)

When it comes to many ancient jokes, our cultural and temporal disconnect make them simply ‘not funny’. For better or for worse, depending on your point of view, we have also grown much more sensitive today.

Another reason why the humour of some ancient jokes may be lost on us is that perhaps the medieval monks copying these down simply made mistakes or interpreted them incorrectly. 

Roman Comic from The New Yorker

Mary Beard has also pointed out that there is no real way to know how ancient people laughed either. This is a bit of a trickier concept to wrap one’s head around. What were ancients’ reactions to laughing? Did they have uncontrollable laughter?

My thought is that yes, maybe our jokes are different from what Roman jokes were, just like how some people find Monty Python funny (I know I do!), while others wonder what the big deal is. I also think that we are perhaps not so different in our physical reactions. For example, there is the quote from Cassius Dio, whom I have used as a source for much of my writing. 

Here is a portion from the Roman History in which Cassius Dio and other senators are watching Emperor Commodus slay ostriches in the amphitheatre. As we know, Commodus was off his head, and prone to killing whomever he wanted.

This fear was shared by all, by us senators as well as by the rest. And here is another thing that he did to us senators which gave us every reason to look for our death. Having killed an ostrich and cut off his head, he came up to where we were sitting, holding the head in his left hand and in his right hand raising aloft his bloody sword; and though he spoke not a word, yet he wagged his head with a grin, indicating that he would treat us in the same way. And many would indeed have perished by the sword on the spot, for laughing at him (for it was laughter rather than indignation that overcame us), if I had not chewed some laurel leaves, which I got from my garland, myself, and persuaded the others who were sitting near me to do the same, so that in the steady movement of our armies we might conceal the fact that we were laughing.

(Cassius Dio, Roman History LXXIII)

Emperor Commodus in the Arena

What a sight that must have been! Even though it meant certain death, Dio and the other senators had to chew laurels so as not to give in to what was presumably an urge to laugh hysterically. 

A young man said to his libido-driven wife: “What should we do, darling? Eat or have sex?” And she replied: “You can choose. But there’s not a crumb in the house.”

(Philagelos, #244)

Bawdiness creeps in all the time in ancient humour, and why not? Everyone (well almost everyone) likes a sex joke. If you peruse the jokes in the Philagelos, you’ll see that many of them have to do with sex.

And this didn’t just apply to the Romans. The ancient Greeks found sex and humour to be comfortable bedfellows (no pun intended).

You’re not getting any until you end this stupid war!

I remember going to an evening performance of Aristophanes’ Lysistrata at the ancient theatre of Epidaurus one summer night. It was a beautiful setting with the mountains as a backdrop to the ancient odeon, the sun setting orange and red, and then a great canopy of silver stars in the sky above. 

Lysistrata is a play about a woman’s determination to stop the Peloponnesian War by withholding sex from her husband, and getting all other women to do the same. It seemed quite the political statement on the waste and futility of war, as well as ancient gender issues. 

But then the men, who had not had sex for a long time, came prancing about the stage with giant, bulbous phalluses dangling between their legs, moaning with the pain of their ancient world blue balls. Some of the crowd roared with laughter, others tittered in embarrassment, and still others sat stock-still like the statues in the site museum. 

Perhaps that is the point? Maybe in ancient times, just as today, some jokes were funny to some and not to others? Are we that different from our ancient Roman and Greek counterparts?

Relief of a Roman Comedic Performance

In her book, Professor Beard points out that ancient writers like Cicero speak of the different types of humour. There is derision (laughing at others), puns (word play), incongruity (pairing of opposites), and humour as a release from tension. 

During my research, I found this to be a much bigger topic than I had expected. It’s fascinating to think of laughter in an ancient context. 

Do I find ancient jokes funnier than before? Not really, though I do find they reveal something more of Roman society. 

But what about comedy in ancient Rome, when it came to plays and the theatre?

In the first part of this blog series, we discussed drama and the various types that developed in Rome, including the pantomimes, mimes, and farces.

Pantomimes tended to be tragic, and mimes were comic in nature, both being more sophisticated or high-brow than farces. Actors in pantomime and mime received training in dance, poetry, and mythology. Often, a performance involved an expressive dance by one actor accompanied by a chorus and ensemble of string, wind or percussion instruments. The artists could be very famous, bringing in large crowds. Often, the subjects of pantomimes were mythological in nature.

That said, in the world of ancient Rome, it was the racier, more bawdy and often improvised, farces, that were popular with the people.

It seems that the people, especially among the lower classes would have much preferred American Pie or Porky’s, to An Ideal Husband or Much Ado about Nothing.

How about some tickles?

Theatrical comedy in general did have certain archetypes when it came to costumes, characters, and themes.

As in ancient Greek theatre, masks, made of linen or cork, were worn, and were brown for male characters, and white for female. Purple was the colour more often worn by rich male and female characters, and red by characters who were supposed to be poor. Slaves boys in comedies were dressed in striped tunics.

Characters and themes in Roman comedy had strong links to ancient Greek comedy, especially those of Menander.

These stock characters often included the young man (adulescens), the young woman (virgo), the young married woman (uxor), the prostitute who could have her own household (meretrix), the pimp (leno), and others such as hostile fathers, unscrupulous pimps, or pirates.

The main stock Roman comedy characters, however, were most often the clever slave, the mean brothel keeper, and the boastful but stupid soldier.

The musical, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, by Stephen Sondheim, is a modern play/musical that perfectly illustrates all of these stock characters. In some ways, it is closest to Roman mimes and farces, performed as they were with an array of songs, and musical accompaniment and dancing.

Scene from A Funny thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966)

In researching Sincerity is a Goddess, it was surprising to find out that the themes in ancient Greek and Roman comedy are the origins of our modern slap-stick and romantic comedies.

Intrigues and misunderstandings are common and added to stories of boy-meets-girl, pairs of lovers, pregnancies, marriages, and mistaken identities.

It all makes for a sort of basic training in comedy writing.

Though there were a lot of similarities with comedy today, ancient comedy, high or low brow, was also unique, reflecting the worries, values and everyday lives of the Roman people.

However, it seems that, though we and the Romans may have found different things humorous, they enjoyed an escape from the everyday and a good laugh as much as we do.

Thank you for reading.

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

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

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

NEW RELEASE! – Sincerity is a Goddess

Salvete, Readers and Romanophiles!

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Etrurian Players are coming! Brace yourselves!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

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

Salvete Romanophiles!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thank you for watching, and thank you for reading!

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

Revisiting the Etruscan Tomb of Montecalvario

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

There is also the history and archaeology.

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

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

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

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

One of the four entrances to the tomb of Montecalvario

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The tomb of Montecalvario is one of them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Layout of the tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

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

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

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

Artist Impression of Tomb of Montecalvario (from site interpretation)

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

It was like walking through a dream.

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

View from the heights of the Etruscan fortress of Volterra

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

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

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

A view of the Chianti hills

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

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

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

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

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

Castellina in Chianti with the Medieval tower to the right.

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

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

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

Watch out for snakes! Adam heading into the tomb…

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

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

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

One of the inner chambers

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

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

The largest of the inner chambers

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

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

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

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

Thank you for reading.

Standing at the top of the tomb.

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

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

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

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

Ancient Everyday: Celebrating Birthdays in Ancient Rome

Salvete Romanophiles!

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

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

Let’s party!

Roman dinner party

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

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

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

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

The short answer is, ‘yes’, they did.

Birthdays, or dies natales, were indeed important celebrations.

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

The Roman Forum (by Becchetti)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natale di Roma parade (photo: Giampiero Giustarini)

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

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

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

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

(Martial, Epigrams 10.87.1-4)

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

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

(Albius Tibullus,  4.5.9-12)

It really was an interesting commingling of religion and celebration.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Terence, Phormio, Act I, Scene I)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was Cynthia amused?

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

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

(Martial, Epigrams, 10.87.17-20)

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

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

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

(Censorinus, De Die Natali 3.5-6)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Ovid, Tristia 3.13)

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

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

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

That was a beautiful thing.

Thank you for reading.

 

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

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

Facebooktwitterpinterest