Ancient Rome
Goes to the Movies
Encore Learning
Fall
Semester 2026
Instructor
– Tom Wukitsch
Table of Contents
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Page 2 |
Front matter |
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Page 40 |
A Funny
Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum |
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Page 67 |
Scipio
Africanus – The Defeat of Hannibal |
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Page 80 |
Spartacus |
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Page 112 |
Julius
Caesar (Shakespeare) |
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Page 123 |
Antony and
Cleopatra (Shakespeare) |
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Page 139 |
Augustus |
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Page 161 |
Caligula |
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Page 174 |
Satyricon |
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Page 200 |
Gladiator |
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Page 216 |
Titus
(Andronicus) (Shakespeare) |
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Page 234 |
Appendix A:
a Wikipedia list of films set in ancient Rome |
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Page 237 |
Appendix B:
abbreviated Roman Timeline |
Syllabus
[Syllabus
word origin: Neo-Latin: syllabus or syllabos, probably a misreading (in
manuscripts of Cicero) of Greek síttybos, accusative plural of síttyba = a
label for a papyrus roll (Earliest known use:
1650–60)]
Ancient Rome in the Movies (History
303)
Ten two to three hour sessions
(depending on length of films)
Tuesdays, March 6 through May 8, each class starting at 12 noon.
Classes will be held in room 244 at George Mason University, 3401 N. Fairfax
Drive, Arlington, VA
Some filmmakers got ancient Rome right. Some got it wrong. Some
didn't get it at all. Many films about Rome tell us more about the biases
of the times in which they were made than about the times they claim to
depict. Some are "message" films, and some just carry forward
the message of the books on which they were based. There is nothing in
the historical account of Spartacus, for example, that would lead us to accept
the "Christian" message of the Spartacus film epic or of the Howard
Fast novel on which it is based (nor, for that matter, is there any proletarian
internationalism that could explain the former Soviet fascination with
"Spartakiad") Recent big budget films, made for theaters, tend
to get the background right, but they badly garble their historical story
lines. Lower budget theater films don't even try for background accuracy
much less for historical fact -- "Sword of the Arena", a girl-gladiator
flick, comes to mind (although there were some documented female
gladiators). Television productions vary greatly in authenticity:
the History Channel, just one example, will buy and broadcast almost any show
that claims to be "historical", so some History Channel content is
completely bogus. Also, television time is usually sold in small chunks,
so instead of getting an "in depth" 145 minute
theater version of Rome, we may only get the 60 minute
television version -- minus, of course, about 13 minutes for "messages
from our sponsors." The recent and ongoing Italian-made
"Rome" series falls into its own category: it's an in depth fictional
soft porn soap opera and has almost no accurate historical content. (That
doesn't mean it's not fun to watch, but we won't, so watch it on your own
time.) There are, of course some good films on ancient Rome, and some of
them have unusual formats. "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the
Forum", our first film, based on plays by ancient Rome's best comedic
playwright, fully captures the irreverence for status and authority of the
ancient Roman stage. Other films will follow. Popcorn not provided.
Textbooks: No textbook will be needed for this course. The usual handouts will be provided for each unit.
But if you really think you must have a book, try one of these:
Big Screen Rome, by
Monica Silveira Cyrino, or
Imperial Projections: Ancient
Rome in Modern Popular Culture, by
Sandra B. Joshel et al.,
or,
Projecting the Past: Ancient
Rome, Cinema, and History, by Maria Wyke
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0304366420/103-6383802-1503804
For a few rambling
general introductory notes for this course, go to:
http://www.mmdtkw.org/ARMovIntroRamble.html
Course Units (one film per unit):
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Note that some of the
links below are from Wikipedia, "the free |
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1. A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum (1966)
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A movie based on a Broadway musical, which was based on three
plays that Plautus (ca. 200 bc), may be copied from the Greek stage.
The broad comedy of Zero Mostel made the movie and the Broadway musical a
success, and he was also the force behind bringing other previously
blacklisted actors and staff into the production. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Funny_Thing_Happened_on_the_Way_to_ |
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2. Scipio Africanus -- The Defeat of Hannibal (1937) 93 Minutes |
Made by Mussolini's son in
1937, the year of the Italian Trans-Libyan Highway
and Italy's invasion of Ethiopia, this film won the Venice Film Festival
prize for that year. It's clearly a propaganda piece glorifying Italian
imperialism, but it is, nonetheless, surprisingly accurate. Its climax is the
Battle of Zama (in modern Tunisia) in 202 BC, which ended the Second Punic
War between Rome and Carthage. |
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3. Spartacus (1960) 198 Minutes |
A very fictitious story of Rome's Third Servile War (73 - 70
BC), this is the movie that really broke the Hollywood blacklist. Kirk
Douglas, producer as well as star of the epic, brought in the blacklisted
screen-writer Dalton Trumbo and insisted that he be credited with the
authorship of the screenplay. Trumbo drew his story from Howard
Fast's 1951 novel and, like fast, portrayed Spartacus as a popular
revolutionary. Many scholars disagree saying that Spartacus was just a
wily escapee with no grand revolutionary agenda. It's impossible to say
who was right: the historical evidence
is extremely sketchy.
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4. Julius Caesar (1953) 121 Minutes |
Julius Caesar is the name of the
production, but he dies early on. Shakespeare's story is really about Marc
Antony's destruction of the liberatori who had assassinated Caesar. This
film is recognized as one of Brando's greatest performances, and it is
acclaimed by Shakespeare specialists as well
as by the Hollywood crowd. Time period covered is 44 and 43 BC.
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5. Antony and Cleopatra (1974) |
Not Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. It is an ITV
television production of Trevor Nunn's stage version performed by London's
Royal Shakespeare Company, which was shown in the United States to great
acclaim in 1975. Most critics agree that it's the best mass media A and
C ever produced. The time period is from 41 BC through 29 BC, but the action
is much compressed by Shakespeare. http://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/antony/ |
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6. Augustus (2003) |
"....equal parts history lesson
and soap opera, and thoroughly engaging at all
levels". Peter O'toole is Augustus on his deathbed and
remembering/retelling his life. The film is surprisingly accurate. Also, surprisingly, the multiple flashback
(and even flashbacks within flashbacks) form holds the film together.
The only really jarring note is the gratuitous inclusion of Jesus in the last
words of the film, supposedly spoken by the (ghost of?) Augustus in what
appears to be a parody of his Res Gestae Divi Augusti (= Deeds of the Divine
Augustus). The movie covers the life of Augustus from 45 BC until his
death in 14 AD.
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7. Caligula (1979, reworked several times, ours is
essentially the R rated 1981 version.) |
This is an attempt to return to the Gore Vidal Caligula
screenplay. Penthouse Magazine operatives had inserted almost an hour
of gratuitous explicit sex and gore, which was removed for this "R"
rated (cleaned up) version of the notorious Penthouse production.
Caligula was undoubtedly evil and perhaps insane, but most of what we
"know" about him was written by” historians" in the pay of his
enemies after his assassination, and most of that is suspiciously similar to
what had been written about previous tyrants in the ancient world. The
action takes place between 31 AD when Caligula was
summoned to the Villa of Tiberius in Capri and Caligula's death in 41 AD.
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8. Satyricon (1969) |
Satyricon (Fellini Satyricon) is a 1969 film by Federico Fellini that is
loosely based on the Petronius novel Satyricon,
a series of bawdy and satirical episodes written during the reign of the
emperor Nero and set in imperial Rome. Many literature
"experts" call the Petronius work the world's first novel.
The original text survives only in large fragments, and instead of trying to
connect the fragments that survived, Fellini presented the material in a
series of somewhat disjointed and dislocated scenes. Petronius, usually
identified with Petronius Arbiter, is thought to have been Nero's
"master of the revels". The date of the "events" in
the Satyricon is unclear, but the work most likely dates from Nero's reign 54
- 68 AD.
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9. Gladiator (2000) |
A fiction set in the reign of Commodus, the film, nonetheless,
is very good on Roman architecture, costume, life style, and general ambiance
-- good enough for the film to become a staple of university ancient history
and archeology courses. The history of Commodus, like that of Caligula
120 years before him, was written by historians in the pay of his erstwhile
enemies. Commodus was named Caesar by his father, Marcus Aurelius, at
age 5 in 166 AD and was made co-Augustus , in 178 AD. He reigned
alone from his father's death in 180 AD until
192 when he was assassinated -- he was not killed in the arena as shown in
the movie.
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10. Titus (1999) |
Titus Andronicus, one of Shakespeare's earliest plays, is
certainly his most violent. It was written, before Shakespeare found
his own more mellow style, for an Elizabethan audience already inured to
violent "revenge plays" modeled after the nine Senecan
tragedies. Our movie is Julie Taymor's production, in which she
fearlessly shows all of Shakespeare's violence. It is set in the period
of "military anarchy" beginning with Maximus Thrax and ending with
the formation of the Tetrarchy by Diocletian (235 - 285 AD) during the reign
of a fictional Emperor Saturninus. Shakespeare's and Taymor's bloody
story accurately reflects the violence of that
time. Something to consider: Who commits the first violent act
that provokes revenge? Taymor had staged Titus in New York in 1995 before her
Lion King success and returned to it for her first movie.
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Movies for ALRI Course #303
Roman Movies -- Timeline
Films will be discussed/viewed in the order
listed, which corresponds to their historical context.
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum
Titus Maccius Plautus, generally referred to simply as Plautus, was a playwright of
Ancient Rome. He is believed to have been born in Sarsina (a city in Umbria)
around 254 BC. His comedies are among the earliest surviving intact works in
Latin literature. To protect himself,
Plautus featured "Greek" characters and situations in all of his
comedies, and they, in fact, may have been derived from earlier Greek works (a
fine copying tradition, which was played out again later, during the
Renaissance, when Shakespeare, among others, used the plays of Plautus as
sources for their own comedies). The Broadway musical that preceded this movie
was drawn from three plays by Plautus (Miles
Gloriosus, Pseudolus, and The Haunted House) that ridicule three
aspects of Roman Republic life: the
braggart warrior, the clever slave who outwits his masters, and fear of ghosts.
It wasn't very successful until Zero Mostel took over the leading part of
Pseudolus.
Scipio Africanus, The Defeat of Hannibal
Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus Major (235 -- 183 BC) was a general in the Second Punic War and
statesman of the Roman Republic. He was best known for defeating Hannibal of
Carthage, a feat that earned him the surname Africanus, the nickname the Roman
Hannibal and recognition as one of the finest commanders in military history.
Scipione l'africano, written by Carmine
Gallone, won the Mussolini Cup for the greatest Italian film at the 1937 Venice Film Festival. Fascist Italy's most spectacular costume
epic, it celebrates ancient Rome's conquests in Africa during the Second Punic
War. Produced during Italy's war against Abyssinia, and heavily backed by
Mussolini's government, this was at the time the most expensive Italian film
ever made. Drawing upon Rome's imperial past to justify Italy's expansionist
present, Scipio Africanus piles cinematic spectacle -- a cast of thousands,
savage battle scenes, and stunning recreations of Rome and Carthage -- atop its
ideological agenda.
Spartacus
Spartacus (ca. 120 BC -- ca. 70 BC, at the end of the Third Servile War),
according to Roman historians, was a gladiator-slave who became the alleged
leader of an unsuccessful slave uprising against the Roman Republic. Little is known about Spartacus beyond the
events of the Third Servile War, and the historical accounts of the war that
have survived into modern times are sketchy and often contradictory. However, Spartacus' struggle, often portrayed
as the struggle of oppressed people fighting for their freedom against a large
powerful State, has found new meaning for modern writers since the 19th
century. The figure of Spartacus and his
rebellion have become an inspiration to many modern literary and political
writers, who have made the character of Spartacus an ancient/modern folk hero.
Julius Caesar (Shakespeare)
Gaius Julius Caesar (July 12 or July 13, 100 BC – March 15, 44 BC), often simply called
Julius Caesar, was a Roman military and political leader and one of the
most influential men in world
history. He played a critical
role in the transformation of the Roman
Republic into the Roman
Empire.
Leading
his legions across the Rubicon, Caesar sparked civil war in 49 BC that left him the
undisputed master of the Roman world. After
assuming control of the government, he began extensive reforms of Roman society
and government. He was proclaimed dictator for life, and he heavily
centralized the bureaucracy of the Republic. This forced the hand of a friend
of Caesar, Marcus Junius Brutus, who then conspired with
others to murder the dictator and restore the Republic. This dramatic assassination occurred on the Ides
of March (March 15th) in 44 BC and led to another Roman
civil war. In 42 BC, two years after his assassination, the Roman
Senate officially sanctified him as one of the Roman
deities.
The
film features a splendid characterization of Marc Antony by a very young Marlon
Brando, who appears to have learned to speak clearly for this roll.
Antony and Cleopatra (Shakespeare)
Marcus
Antonius (c. 83 BC–August 1, 30 BC), known in English as Mark Antony, was a Roman politician and general. He was an important supporter of Gaius
Julius Caesar as a military commander and administrator. After Caesar's assassination, Antony allied with Gaius Julius Caesar
Octavian and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus to form an official triumvirate which modern scholars
have labeled the Second
Triumvirate. The Triumvirate broke up in 33 BC and the disagreement
turned to civil war in 31 BC, in which Antony was defeated by Octavian at
the Battle
of Actium and then at Alexandria. Antony committed suicide along with his lover,
Queen Cleopatra VII of Egypt, in
30 BC.
Cleopatra VII (January 69 BC–November 30, 30 BC) was a Hellenistic co-ruler of Egypt with
her father (Ptolemy XII Auletes), and with her
brothers/husbands Ptolemy XIII and Ptolemy XIV. Shea consummated a liaison with Gaius
Julius Caesar that solidified her grip on the throne, and, after Caesar's
assassination, aligned with Mark Antony, with whom she produced
twins. In all, Cleopatra had four children, one by Caesar (Caesarion) and three by Antony (Cleopatra Selene, Alexander
Helios, Ptolemy Philadelphus). Her unions with her
brothers produced no children (it is possible that they were never consummated). In any case, they were not close. Her reign marks the end of the Hellenistic and
the beginning of the Roman era in the eastern Mediterranean. After Antony's rival and Caesar's legal heir,
Gaius Julius Caesar Octavian (who later became the
first “Princeps”, Augustus brought the might of Rome against Egypt, it is
said that Cleopatra took her own life on August 12, 30 BC, allegedly by means of
an asp. Her legacy survives in the form of numerous
dramatizations of her story, including William
Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra and several modern films.
The film we will see is universally acknowledged to be the best Antony and Cleopatra ever made.
Augustus
Augustus (also Octavian) (September
23, 63 BC–August 19, AD 14), known as Gaius Julius
Caesar Octavianus for the period of his life prior to 27 BC, was the first and
among the most important of the Roman
Emperors.
Although he preserved the outward form of the Roman
Republic, he ruled as an autocrat for 41 years, longer
than any subsequent Emperor; and his rule is the dividing line between the
Republic and the Roman
Empire. He ended a century of civil wars and gave Rome an era of
peace, prosperity, and imperial greatness, known as the Pax Romana, or Roman peace, which lasted for over 200 years.
Although somewhat fictionalized, this film still is probably the
most accurate portrayal of Augustus ever filmed.
Caligula
Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus (August 31, 12 – January 24, 41 AD), most commonly known
as Caligula (= "Little Boots"), was the third Roman
Emperor and a member of the Julio-Claudian dynasty, ruling from 37 to 41. Known for his
extreme extravagance, eccentricity, depravity and cruelty, he is remembered as
a despot. He was assassinated in 41 AD
by several of his own guards.
The Roman historian Suetonius referred to Caligula as
a "monster", and the surviving sources are universal in their
condemnation. One popular tale, often cited as an example of his insanity and
tyranny, is that Caligula appointed his favorite horse, Incitatus, to a seat on the Senate
and attempted to appoint it to the position of consul. The story, however,
owes its unrelenting currency to its charm: it is based on a single
misunderstood near-contemporary reference, in which Suetonius merely repeats an
unattributed rumor that Caligula was thinking about doing it (Suet. Cal. 55.3). Caligula is often alleged to have had incestuous relationships with his
sisters, most notably his younger sister Drusilla, but there is no
credible evidence to support such claims either. In short, the surviving sources are filled
with anecdotes of Caligula's cruelty and insanity rather than an actual account
of his reign. This makes any
reconstruction of his time as Princeps nearly impossible.
There are several versions of this film available, and the
"R" rated version that we will see is the closest to Gore Vidal's
original screenplay. The
"unrated" version has an additional hour or so or extraneous
perverted sex and violence, which was a post-production addition by the
Penthouse Magazine producers. That's the
version that we will not be seeing.
Fellini
Satyricon
Petronius (c.
27–66) was a Roman writer of the Neronian age; he was a noted satirist. He is identified with
Gaius Petronius Arbiter, but the manuscript text of the Satyricon calls him Titus
Petronius. He is usually thought to have
been Nero's "Master of the Revels."
His sole surviving work, the Satyricon
(often called the earliest known novel) is an entertaining and earthy tale
that tells us nothing directly of his fortunes, position, or even century. Some
lines of Sidonius Apollinaris refer to him and are
often taken to imply that he lived and wrote at Massilia (Marseille,
France). If, however, we accept the identification of this author with
the Petronius of Tacitus, Nero's courtier, we
must suppose either that Massilia was his birthplace or, as is more likely,
that Sidonius refers to the novel itself and that its scene was partly laid at
Massilia.
The chief characters of the story are evidently strangers in the
towns of Southern
Italy where we find them. Their Greek-sounding names (Encolpius,
Ascyltos, Giton, etc.) and literary training accord with the characteristics of
the old Greek
colony in the 1st century (Magna Graecia). The
high position among Latin writers ascribed by Sidonius to Petronius, and the
mention of him by Macrobius beside Menander among the humorists,
when compared with the absolute silence of Quintilian, Juvenal and Martial, seem adverse to the
opinion that the Satyricon was a work
of the age of Nero. But Quintilian was concerned with writers who could be
turned to use in the education of an orator, nor does it seem to have lain in
Quintilian's personality to appreciate the rollicking, scurrilous humor of the Satyricon. The silence of Juvenal and
Martial may be accidental or it is possible that a work so abnormal in form and
substance was more highly prized by later generations than by the author's
contemporaries.
Fellini Satyricon is a 1969 film by Federico
Fellini. It is loosely based on the Petronius novel, a series of bawdy
and satirical episodes written during the reign of the emperor Nero and set in imperial
Rome. The original text survives only in large fragments, and, instead of
trying to connect and "patch up" the fragments that survived, Fellini
decided to present the material in a series of somewhat disjointed and dislocated
scenes.
Gladiator
Maximus, an entirely fictional character
invented for the movie and a supposed protégé and commander of the army of
Marcus Aurelius on the northern frontier, is unjustly disgraced by
Commodus. He is enslaved and works his way
up through the gladiatorial ranks and back to Rome. There he eventually fights
with and kills Commodus in the Colosseum.
The story is complete fiction except for the names of some of the major
characters. But the background incidents
and ambiance are so good that the film has become a staple of university Roman
History and Archeology courses.
Gladiator supposedly takes place during the reign of Commodus (more
properly Marcus Aurelius Commodus Antoninus), (180 -- December 31, 192 AD) the presumed son of Marcus
Aurelius – there were rumors of a gladiator in the back room with Faustina
Minora while old Marcus was away fighting along the Danube.
Commodus has been very badly treated by "history": all of the great Roman era historians were in
the pay of the "optimati" while Commodus had been the darling of the
"populares". Commodus ended
the wasteful wars along the Rhine frontier and brought home the armies – and
this was extremely unpopular with the Senatorial "military-industrial
complex" whose paid historians later derided his reign and probably made
up most of what we "know" about his "disastrous" rule. In his own time, he was undoubtedly the best-loved
emperor excepting perhaps Augustus.
Titus
Titus is a powerful 1999 film adaptation of Shakespeare's revenge tragedy The Tragedy of Titus Andronicus, about the downfall of a
Roman general. It was the first film of the play
(aside from TV productions). The film
is the directorial debut of Julie
Taymor who co-produced and wrote the screenplay.
There was no real Roman Emperor named Saturninus, but during the
long "period of military chaos" (192 – 284 AD) between Commodus and
Diocletian there was a "fictional" "Saturninus" – inserted
mistakenly by the author(s) of the Historia
Augusta (or perhaps just misread) as "also ruled" during the
reign of Gallienus (260-268 AD). Saturninus could actually have been a
co-Consul with Gallienus.
The Tragedy of Titus
Andronicus may be Shakespeare's earliest tragedy. It depicts a fictional Roman general engaged in a
cycle of revenge with his enemy Tamora,
the Queen of the Goths. The play is by far
Shakespeare's bloodiest, taking its inspiration from Senecan
Tragedy of Ancient Rome, the gory theatre that was played to
bloodthirsty circus audiences between gladiatorial combats.
Recommended,
but not necessary, reading
Review from: Bryn
Mawr Classical Review 2002.07.29
Reviewed by Kirk Ormand,
Oberlin College, kirk.ormand@oberlin.edu
http://ccat.sas.upenn.edu/bmcr/2002/2002-07-29.html
Imperial Projections: Ancient Rome in
Modern Popular Culture by Sandra Joshel, Margaret Malamud, Donald
T. McGuire,
Baltimore: Johns Hopkins
University Press, 2001. Pp. 299. ISBN 0-8018-6742-8. $45.00.
Contributors: William
Fitzgerald, Martin M. Winkler, Alison Futrell, Sandra R. Joshel, Nicholas J.
Cull, Margaret Malamud, Martha Malamud, Maria Wyke, Donald T. McGuire, Jr.
Imperial Projections is a terrific book. It successfully merges
modern cultural critique with sound classical scholarship, and does so in a
manner that is enjoyable to read and intellectually challenging.
The premise of the book
is promising. The editors wish to explore the Rome that exists in the American
imagination and to articulate how we have used Rome as a site of projection for
modern cultural conflicts and anxieties. All the essays are good, some are
outstanding, and the volume explores a wide range of expressions of popular
culture. Included here are the grandiose Roman epic movies of the 50's and
60's, the parodies of that form, the BBC's I, Claudius, a film by Derek Jarman,
and even the architectural wonders of Caesars [sic] Palace in Las Vegas. Each
author succeeds in analyzing a modern artifact, while taking into account the
various modes of production that surround it, the public response to it, and
the social currents that inform that production and response. This is cultural
criticism at its best, providing us with interesting readings of modern
American culture, while also exploring that oft-neglected topic, the form and
function of our relation to the classical world.
Should I stop there in my praise I might be thought effusive.
And yet there is more to praise. The authors of the book generally avoid
jargon, and none explicitly refers to a body of theory. Each essayist, however,
demonstrates a sure knowledge of modern critical approaches, and underlying the
various theses here one will find the theories of intertextuality, queer
theory, Marxist ideology, feminist theory, and cinema studies. (Each
contributor is well known as a classicist, and the authors' competence here is
also evident, though the focus of the book is not on the ancient world per se).
In analyzing Spartacus, or the BBC's I, Claudius, for example, Futrell and
Joshel incorporate into their readings a subtle and effective critique of
gender roles, and of the ways in which the domestic becomes a safe site for the
movies to explore political revolution. Wyke's treatment of Jarman's Sebastiane
is also an important discussion of the eroticization of suffering, drawing on
the work of queer theorists. And so on. But none of the authors spends time
justifying the theoretical stances that they take up; rather, their analyses
stand on their own merits, and the authors assume that the reader is smart
enough to follow along. This sure-footedness regarding issues of gender,
sexuality, social class, and critical theory is both welcome and encouraging.
Beyond that, the book holds together uncommonly well for a
collection of essays on diverse productions across a range of media. The
authors clearly know each other's essays and have gone to some pains to
cross-reference one another. There is some overlap of treatment in a few of the
pieces, but generally this ends up being complementary. The book is
attractively produced, with a solid bibliography and thorough index.
In the paragraphs that follow, I briefly summarize each of the
essays that appear in the volume. I have one or two quibbles with some of the
pieces, but these should in no way be seen to detract from the importance of
this book, or the enjoyment to be derived from reading it.
Joshel, Margaret Malamud, and Wyke have written an eloquent
introduction to the volume in which they outline the major lines of
representation of the Roman Empire in American popular culture. Rome is a
virtual chameleon as a site of projection: at times Rome represents a
tyrannical empire populated by actors with suspiciously upper-class British
accents, doomed to be overthrown by plucky Christians who all have American
accents. At other times Rome (especially the Republic) is America, the
forerunner of our notions of law and, curiously, democracy. In still other
venues Rome is characterized by excess, either negatively, as when an emperor
(such as Nero) demonstrates moral failure through sexual and economic
profligacy, or positively, when Caesars Palace becomes a celebration of that
most American of activities, going to the mall. We can identify with Rome, or
distance ourselves from it; in either case, Rome becomes a safe space in which
to explore anxieties about shifting gender roles or sexual identities, or
America's role as a former colony of Great Britain, or as an emerging world
empire.
In "Oppositions, Anxieties, and Ambiguities in the Toga
Movie," William Fitzgerald explores the persistent trope of Rome as a
tyrannical empire that is doomed to be replaced by Christianity. As Fitzgerald
argues, the movies of the 50's (especially Quo Vadis, and Ben Hur) are careful
to champion Christianity without showing the Christians as actually subversive.
The films negotiate this bit of ideology by casting it in the domestic sphere:
the hero (played by an American) is converted after falling in love with a
Christian woman (played by a European). Thus the rough
American is domesticated at the same time that the hero is able to turn away
from the flawed, decadent political power of public life at Rome. Fitzgerald is
also lucid on the ways in which these films present erotic relations between
men (in varying degrees of latency) as an emotional driving force, often masked
behind a spectacle of violence.1
Martin Winkler draws a more explicit connection between the
films of the 50's and contemporary politics, arguing that Quo Vadis and Ben Hur
figure the Roman empire as an analogue to Nazi Germany. One of the more
interesting translations of this analogy has the Christians of ancient Rome as
the counterparts to the Jews persecuted by Hitler. While Winkler comments on
this oddity (64), he does not quite theorize how it comes about in the American
imagination. Moreover, at times he seems to push his evidence a bit far. Order
and a desire for empire do not necessarily connote the Nazis. Nonetheless,
Winkler has a good deal of interest to say about the iconography of the Roman
Eagle in Hollywood films, the depiction of Nero as Antichrist, and Frank
Capra's involvement in American Office of War Information films of the 1940's.
Alison Futrell's piece, "Seeing Red: Spartacus as Domestic
Economist," is a model of cultural analysis. She traces the history of the
representation of Spartacus' revolt, showing how the historical event becomes a
vehicle in turn for "natural equality," nationalism, and eventually
socialism in subsequent retellings. She then shows how the famous movie version
reshapes the overt Marxist motivations of Howard Fast's play by moving the
political revolution to the sphere of the family. Futrell points out that the
movie is itself embroiled in a somewhat quieter revolution, as the employment
and crediting of screenwriter Dalton Trumbo was an important step in
dismantling the Hollywood blacklist. This essay, like several others in the
volume, also has interesting insights into the ways in which the female lead in
these movies of Rome is used to assure the "natural" superiority of
its stirring hero.
A highlight of the volume, Sandra Joshel's "I, Claudius:
Projection and Imperial Soap Opera," discusses the way in which the BBC's
adaptation of Robert Graves' novel takes on the form and function of a soap
opera. In contrast to the movies of Rome, this small-screen series reduces
every aspect of the Empire to the imperial household, so that the decadence of
Roman government becomes a family drama. As in soaps, "... family
disintegration is repetitive, not cumulative" (143). And most important,
the real threat to an orderly society in this domestic drama is a series of
manipulative, greedy, lascivious women. Not coincidentally, the series depicts
these women (especially Augustus' wife Livia) as pro-empire, where the
"good" men of the series are forced to accept the empire against
their desires for a return to the Republic. And finally, Joshel argues that the
American showing of this drama had the particular effect of allowing us to see
the Romans as "not us," because they were, essentially, British.
Joshel is particularly strong on the way the medium of television itself molded
this production, and on the ways in which Alistair Cooke and the reviewers
shaped public response to it.
Nicholas Cull's analysis of the British camp comedies of ancient
Rome does a nice job of tracing the roots of this particular genre, in this
case to British military humor. There is less critique in this essay than in
other pieces in the volume, as a good deal of space is devoted to simply
describing the jokes and parodies in Carry On, Cleo, A Funny Thing Happened on
the Way to the Forum, and Up Pompeii. Some of the most interesting material
here is Cull's discussion of the way the "camp" was used to explore
anxieties about sex and sexuality in the 60's. A closing argument makes the
point that the kind of "camp" used by these movies is only possible
in an era of relative "innocence and repression" (184). What seemed
cheeky in the 60's is pretty tame today, and that makes it difficult to camp
things up in quite the same way.
In "Brooklyn on the Tiber: Roman Comedy on Broadway and in
Film," Margaret Malamud gives an extended treatment of A Funny Thing
Happened on the Way to the Forum. Malamud explores the way that the works of
Plautus (themselves derivative of a Greek tradition) were appropriated and
recast for the Broadway stage production by Jewish comics who had cut their
teeth in the "Borscht Belt." This Rome is a place where the comic
tradition of the clever slave becomes a venue for exploring Jewish-American
identification and assimilation. In the movie version of A Funny Thing,
however, the story takes on a different tone, as Richard Lester wanted to
criticize both the Hollywood film industry and what he understood as the
socially unjust world of ancient Rome. He was limited in his ability to do so,
however, by producer Melvin Frank. The result is an odd mix of gritty realism
(a Rome populated by slaves in rags surrounded by rotting vegetables) and
vaudevillian humor.
Martha Malamud writes a cogent essay about Colleen McCullough's
series of novels on ancient Rome in "Serial Romans." Most interesting
here is the observation that these novels are essentially conservative:
bloodlines determine social class, and correctly so; women are weak and
subordinate; homosexuality is an identity and an indication of moral
degeneration; eastern characters are effeminate and luxurious; and so on.
Malamud is also instructive on the way in which McCullough infantilizes her characters,
producing upper class Romans who are all Id. Finally, the essay critiques the
marketing of the novels themselves, and the ways in which the novels re-make
Roman history into a supermarket Romance.2
One of the more sophisticated readings of the volume is Maria
Wyke's discussion of Derek Jarman's 1976 film Sebastiane, "Shared
Sexualities." Wyke traces the historical representation of Saint
Sebastian, exploring the process by which his suffering is increasingly seen as
erotic and particularly representative of gay male experience and pleasure. She
then critiques Jarman's film, relating it both to this history and to
underground gay male pornographic films (some with a vague classical setting)
of the 50's and 60's. In Jarman's film Rome becomes a trope for homosexual
liberation, rather than homosexuality being a sign of Roman decadence and
decline. In creating this representation, however, Jarman focuses not on the
interior of the imperial court, but on "barren barracks life on the edges
of empire" (230). As such the film re-made both our understanding of
homosexuality and of ancient Rome. (Again particularly
interesting are the contemporary critics' attempts to direct and control the
potential viewers of the film.) A brilliant, densely argued close to the essay
discusses the "potential erotic ecstasy of self-renunciation" (245)
of the film in light of our post-Foucauldian understanding of homosexual
identity.
The volume closes with a lighthearted, and somewhat light, piece
on the history and architecture of Caesars Palace in Las Vegas, by Margaret
Malamud and Donald McGuire. It is clear that the authors have spared no expense
to research their topic, and this is in keeping with the theme of the Palace.
This is the Rome of Commerce with a capital C, where luxury and power are
celebrated as part of the American vision of "extravagant
consumption" (262). As with some of the camp films of the same era,
Caesars Palace succeeds (to the extent that it does) because of a kind of
willful ignorance, a willingness on the part of the consumer to wink, nudge,
and roll her eyes.
In sum, Rome has never been just Rome; and the Empire in
particular has been a backdrop against which modern America works out its sense
of identity. Imperial Projections goes a long way towards articulating the
relation between modern America and ancient Rome, and towards theorizing the
many subtexts that inform that relation.
Notes:
1. I missed reference here to Eve Sedgwick,
1985. Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire. New York:
Columbia University Press.
2. Reference could have
been made here to two standard works on popular "women's" fiction:
Janice Radway, 1984. Reading the Romance: Women, Patriarchy, and Popular
Literature. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press. Leslie Rabine,
1985. "Romance in the Age of Electronics: Harlequin Enterprises,"
Feminist Studies 11: 39-60.
"Scholia Reviews" ns 16 (2007) 27.
Monica Silveira Cyrino, Big
Screen Rome
Oxford: Blackwell, 2005
Pp. xiv + 274
ISBN 1-4051-1684-6. UK£19.99
Reviewer: Suzanne
Sharland, Classics, University of KwaZulu-Natal, Durban, 7/11/07
Since film courses that focus on screen representations of
Classical antiquity seem to be becoming such a staple of Classical Civilisation
programmes everywhere, Monica Silveira Cyrino’s "Big Screen Rome"
comes as a welcome and timely addition to the growing store of secondary
literature in this rapidly expanding area of Classical studies. Well-organised
and appropriately illustrated, Cyrino’s lively contribution suggests itself as
a suitable textbook to prescribe for such courses. This is not to say, however,
that there are no problems with the work. As the title implies, Cyrino’s book
concentrates on the Roman side of things and excludes the Greek portion of
Classically themed films -- recent films such as Wolfgang Petersen’s
"Troy" (2004) and Oliver Stone’s "Alexander" (2004) are
noteworthy omissions dictated by the study’s exclusively Roman bias.[[1]] Even
within the Roman film universe, the work is far from exhaustive; Cyrino focuses
on a relatively small selection of films in the book. These, she explains, are
the films she has tried and tested in her own film course at the University of
New Mexico (p. 3). Unfortunately, the restrictions of the academic year mean
that every lecturer or course co-ordinator designing a film studies module has
inevitably to decide what to include and what to leave out. Nevertheless
"Big Screen Rome" treats all the major and most famous Classically
themed films of yesteryear and provides a solid, useful starting point for the
Classics in the Movies student, who should be encouraged to build upon the
basic information imparted by the study.
What gives Cyrino’s work such potential as a textbook is the
meticulously organised manner in which information about a number of
Classically themed films is imparted. Indeed, it is clear that it is precisely
as a textbook that Cyrino’s book has been composed. Every chapter deals with
just one film, thus avoiding unnecessary confusion, although there is some
discussion of previous versions or direct predecessors of the film in question.
Within each chapter the same structured organizational approach is taken.
Cyrino arranges each chapter under a number of headings that are always the
same and in the same order. This predictability makes the book easy to use. For
example, on the first page of each chapter, one finds important information
about the film’s production studio, director, screenplay, cast and so on. This
provides a useful reference point to turn to if one has, for example, forgotten
the name of an actor or the year in which a film was released. Cyrino follows
this, in each case, with an equally useful ‘Plot Outline’, which is detailed
summary of the plot of each film. Cyrino anticipates that this will help
students and lecturers place significant scenes and clear up confusion about
the sequence of the narrative (p. 5). Cynics may comment that the plot summary
will be of great help to those incorrigible students who, as incredible as it
may seem, have failed to watch the film itself.
Next in every chapter comes a section entitled ‘Ancient
Background’ which describes the ancient sources or the historical background
that inspired the film. In these sections, Cyrino usually delves into some
recorded history of ancient Rome, concerning which the modern films can be
extraordinarily cavalier. The exception to the historical approach is in
Chapter 6 (pp. 159-75), on "A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the
Forum" (1966), where the ‘Ancient Background’ section focuses instead on the
background to Roman comedy, the genre on which this purely imaginary film is
based. The section ‘Background to the Film’ in each case discusses the more
recent background to the movie, with, as Cyrino explains, ‘an examination of
other appropriations, literary or figurative, of the story or its major
characters since antiquity, and in particular the use of the story or
characters in other media such as novels, stage plays, and other cinematic
versions’ (p. 5). This section explains, in addition, the manner in which the
film project came to be assigned to a particular director and provides a brief
summary of the particular director’s career (p. 5). Cyrino’s credentials as a
film buff and her impressively broad knowledge of Hollywood (after all, she
grew up in the neighbourhood)[[2]] enable her to
impart interesting and often very revealing information about other films on
non-Classical themes made by the directors in question.
The next section, ‘Making the Movie’, in each case highlights
the actual production of the film under discussion, frequently involving
intrigues, struggles, and expenses of such proportions that they rival the epic
itself. This section also examines technical issues such as ‘the development of
the screenplay, directorial decisions about the shooting location and casting
of actors, the film’s artistic design, musical score, exceptional set-piece
scenes, special effects and new cinematic technologies’ (p. 5). The final major
section, ‘Themes and Interpretations’, provides in each case an in-depth
analysis of the major themes of the film, as well as situating the movie in the
broader social, political, and cultural context of the time of its production
and release. Cyrino evaluates each film’s degree of critical and commercial
success, and she also looks for reasons for this. Each chapter concludes with a
potentially useful list of ‘Core Issues’ (take note, students!), a set of
important themes and issues that Cyrino has identified as arising out of each
film. One can almost see already the garishly coloured highlighter pens coming
out to underline or otherwise mutilate these questions, helpfully posed in
point-form.
Many of the films Cyrino discusses tell us more about the
attitudes and trends in American society than about the ancient world. Cyrino
is particularly good at contextualising each movie in the American society of
the particular era in which it was made. She examines perceptively the degree
to which each film she analyses captures its "Zeitgeist", and her
book as a whole is set out chronologically so as to follow the evolution of the
‘swords and sandals’ epic from its heyday in the early 1950s to its sudden
resurrection with the success of Gladiator in the year 2000. "Big Screen
Rome" in effect tracks the changes in American political, religious,
sexual, and cultural attitudes during the second half of the twentieth century.
Cyrino’s first three chapters treat three religious-themed American epics from
the 1950s, "Quo Vadis" (1951), "The Robe" (1953), and
"Ben-Hur" (1959). As Cyrino remarks (p. 3), these post-War religious
epics all inherit as well as perpetuate similar mythologies about Rome. Their
presentations of gender, race, and class are limited by the prejudices of that
era. One of the problems faced by the lecturer today is how to make these pious
films, which sometimes look like walking Christmas cards, accessible to the
contemporary secularly-minded and often agnostic student. Yet it is important
that students are familiar with this sub-genre of epic film in order for them
to appreciate the subsequent parodies of it, in films like "Monty Python’s
Life of Brian" (1979). On the political front, Cyrino takes care to
situate these films within the tense cultural and political climate of the
United States during the Cold War period, another scenario that is entirely
foreign to the modern eighteen- to twenty-year-old student. The next two
chapters examine secular films about Rome made during the early 1960s,
"Spartacus" (1960) and "Cleopatra" (1963). Few film courses
about the ancient world would ignore these two highly significant movies.
Cyrino follows this with three chapters treating comedies, "A Funny Thing
Happened on the Way to the Forum" (1966), "Monty Python’s Life of
Brian" (1979), and Mel Brooks’ "History of the World, Part 1: The
Roman Empire Sequence" (1981). Cyrino finishes off with a very
well-written chapter on "Gladiator" (2000), the film which launched
the return of the Classically themed epic film.
In her introduction (pp. 1-6), Cyrino observes that there is
both an attraction to the power and spectacle of Rome, as well as a
simultaneous abhorrence felt towards what are perceived as the excesses of this
ancient civilisation: ‘Contemporary audiences readily relate to and even define
themselves by the on-screen portrayal of the ancient Romans whose provocative
combination of dignity and decadence both fascinates and disturbs’ (pp. 1f.).
Traditionally, however, American audiences do not seem to have been encouraged
to identify themselves with the Romans. In the movies on the ancient world,
until fairly recently, the American actors (or actors with American accents)
never played the evil, oppressive Romans, but rather appeared as slaves,
Christians, and other innocent victims of Rome’s abuse of power. According to
the Hollywood ‘linguistic paradigm’, actors with British accents that were
‘posh’-sounding to American audiences played the evil, corrupt and oppressive
Romans. This all changed, as Cyrino observes (p. 232), with
"Gladiator" (2000), when Australian Russell Crowe adopted a gruff but
refined English accent (‘Royal Shakespeare Company two pints after lunch’) in
order to play the hero Maximus. However, the villain Commodus, played by American
Joaquin Phoenix, also adopted an accent that veers occasionally into Cockney (‘ . . . busy likkle bee . . . ’).
On America’s shoulders, it seems, the mantle of Rome rests uneasily. Issues of
power and empire suggested by the paradigm of ancient Rome have never been more
significant for contemporary society, and to the rest of the world today,
America is clearly Rome. Only certain recent films, however, have made a direct
link between the ancient Roman empire and its most striking contemporary parallel.[[3]] By treating mostly earlier American-made movies,[[4]] however, which subscribe to the conventional
paradigm, Cyrino has narrowed our perspective of ancient Rome.
In Cyrino’s selection there are not enough recent films under
discussion, and thus the entire focus of her book is on early material which,
one anticipates, will eventually largely be replaced by later portrayals of the
ancient world. Much of the more recent film material has been about Greece
rather than about Rome. But even on the Roman side of things there have been
many made-for-television spectacles (admittedly mostly British) that merit
attention. These television series have often been less flashy but more
historically accurate than the Hollywood blockbusters, and in the past I have found it useful to have students compare small
and large screen presentations of the same historical figure. The nature of a
television series allows the scriptwriters to go into greater detail on minor
background issues that of necessity are swept under the carpet in the Hollywood
blockbuster. If, for example, the 1963 Cleopatra film had been a television
series as opposed to a lengthy movie, there may have been a chance to show
aspects of Mark Antony’s early career and his relationship to Julius Caesar
that had to be edited out of the film version and which may have helped explain
some of his later behaviour.[[5]] Cyrino has severely limited her choice of
films by being strictly ‘Big Screen’ and ‘Rome’ (and almost exclusively
American).
While a post-modernist analysis of the multi-layered meanings of
the films and their reflections on antiquity may be instructive, on a more
practical level, as Cyrino herself suggests (p. 2), we need to question why we
teach these films at all in the context of the Classics classroom. What bothers
me, however, is that on the whole Cyrino’s attitude towards the films she has
selected (clearly her favourites) is more approving than critical. While there
is nothing wrong with enjoying the spectacles, often it is necessary to focus
on the movies’ faults rather than their good points in order to enable our
students to learn something about the ancient world from them. Do these films
as artistic representations make any attempt at historical accuracy? To what extent
could inaccuracies in these movies cause confusion or misconceptions in the
minds of some of our students? How far-fetched must a film be before it loses
any relevance to a study of the ancient world?[[6]] While it is true that most
of our impressions of the ancient world are mediated by some previous
representation, that there is no modern representation of antiquity that can be
truly objective, and that all films about the ancient world are really about
the modern one, it would be hard to justify giving up all attempts at
historical accuracy in films that are, after all, promoted as historical
‘period pieces’. Historical accuracy is what the lay person always wants to
know about: I think it would be condescending and dismissive to suggest that
the ordinary film-going public does not care about this. By failing to tackle
the thorny question of historical accuracy head-on, "Big Screen Rome"
ultimately is unable to raise itself out of the limited level of a class
textbook to the status of a more rewarding and abiding contribution to
scholarship.
When it comes to the visual recreation of the movie set, it has
been observed, historical accuracy resides in the details of that recreation.[[7]] What I miss in Cyrino’s book is a
discussion of the historical anachronisms of each film, some of which are
petty, others irritating, and still others dangerously misleading. I am not
overly concerned about such legendary alleged slip-ups as the automobile in the
arena or the wristwatch on the arm of a Roman soldier, amusing as these things
may be to spot. Somewhat more insidious, however, is Judah’s elderly servant
Simonides (Esther’s father) bumbling about in "Ben-Hur" with a
"yarmulke" (skullcap) on his head centuries before this became the
practice in Jewish communities.[[8]] Again, Judah’s experience as a slave has
him rowing a galley as a dire form of punishment, while in practice being an
oarsman was a highly paid and respected profession. In battle, after all, it
was better to depend on free men rather than on slaves.[[9]]
In "Cleopatra" (1963), Cleopatra and Antony sit upright to eat their
banquet on the queen’s boat afloat on the River Cydnus. They look ridiculous:
why aren’t they reclining? Cyrino’s book could have been made more useful if
she had compiled a list of these anomalies. Even the minor infringements are
worth noting, so that these can be brought to the students’ attention.
A more serious dilemma, in my view, is whether Spartacus dies on
a cross, as in Stanley Kubrick’s movie, or in battle, as Plutarch tells
us.[[10]] At a push, an anonymous Spartacus could indeed have been among his
numerous followers crucified between Capua and Rome as a reprisal for
antiquity’s most successful slave uprising, but this is not what Plutarch says.
As Classicists and Ancient Historians we need to ask
why sometimes deliberate alterations to historical events and phenomena are
made in modern films about the ancient world, and what effect this has on our
students’ understanding of the ancient world. Having Spartacus die on the
cross,[[11]] for example, is useful in dramatic terms, as it gives Kirk Douglas
a Christ-like profile and a chance to have some dialogue with Jean Simmons, but
knowledge of the ancient world reveals that dying in battle as a warrior and
not on the cross like a slave would be the path that Spartacus himself (and any
other ancient with an ounce of self-respect) would undoubtedly have preferred.
It is important that we use the opportunities for discussion afforded by the
films’ inaccuracies to engage with our students, and to introduce them to the
real challenges of the ancient world, in which the issues of right and wrong
were not always as clear-cut as in a Hollywood movie.
NOTES
[[1]] With the release of "300" (2007), a
dramatisation of the battle of Thermopylae, might it not soon be time for a
companion volume entitled "Big Screen Greece"?
[[2]] See ‘Acknowledgments’, p. viii.
[[3]] According to Lou Marinoff, ‘America is Rome reincarnate.
Like the Roman empire, the American empire is vastly powerful and unfathomably
corrupt. Like Rome, America imposes her civilisation upon an ungrateful world.
Like Rome, America needs bread, circuses and philosopher-statesmen to forestall
and yet to hasten her demise’ ("The Philosopher’s Magazine", Summer
1998 -- I owe this reference to Susan Haskins.) "Gladiator" (2000),
prior to the disaster of 9/11 and all the propaganda that has followed it its
wake, was in my view a high point in the United States’ cultural biography at
which point America could look at herself and admit that she was Rome.
[[4]] An exception to this is, of course, "Monty Python’s
Life of Brian" (1979), which Cyrino ably treats in her seventh chapter
(pp. 176-93).
[[5]] Cyrino notes this problem with the editing of Burton’s
portrayal of Mark Antony at p. 145. However, she dismisses the 1999 BBC
mini-series "Cleopatra" as ‘feeble’ (p. 151). An excellent example of
a recent mini-series, perhaps too recent for Cyrino’s book, to be fair, is the
series "Rome" created by John Milius, William J. Macdonald, and Bruno
Heller (London: BBC & HBO, 2006).
[[6]] Kathleen Coleman, herself an academic consultant to the
movie "Gladiator" (2000), raises many questions regarding the issue
of historical accuracy and the role of the academic consultant in her chapter
‘The Pedant Goes to Hollywood: The Role of the Academic Consultant’ in Martin
M. Winkler (ed.), "Gladiator: Film and History" (Oxford 2004) 45-52.
She concludes (p. 52) that historical accuracy need not be sacrificed to
artistic sensibility provided that there is a sophisticated working
relationship between the academic consultant and the filmmakers.
[[7]] Coleman [6] 49 observes that while scholars are often
accused of being too focused on the minutiae, which may be a problem for an
academic consultant working on a film set, nevertheless, it should be
remembered that ‘detail is the repository of authenticity’.
[[8]] Covering the head before God is very ancient practice in
Judaism, but any form of head-covering is acceptable in terms of Jewish law. A
wide variety of head-coverings has been worn by Jewish men from ancient times
to the present, and many regional differences used to exist. It seems that the
"yarmulke" as we know it dates from Medieval times. The word is
Yiddish and the practice of wearing this cap probably comes from Poland. It has
even been suggested that ‘the so-called Jewish garb of Poland, including even
the ‘jarmulka’ (undercap), is simply the old Polish costume which the Jews
retained after the Poles had adopted the German form of dress’
(JewishEncyclopedia.com - COSTUME, p. 20; accessed on 11/5/07).
[[9]] Ancient warship designs required that each oarsman be
responsible for one oar, and therefore rowing was a skilled job, performed by
trained personnel. J.G. Landels in his work "Engineering in the Ancient
World" (London 1980) notes that however well designed a warship may have
been, ‘it was only one half of a partnership, the other being a fit, well trained crew whose morale was high’ (p. 149). Where
slaves were used on ancient galleys, they were apparently freed and trained
first. Later designs, however, required three to seven men handling one oar, so
individual skill mattered less, and from about the sixteenth century A.D.,
European powers started using condemned criminals and prisoners-of-war to man
their galleys. From there the commonplace of a condemned ‘galley slave’ made
its way into literature, and what eventually became a literary tradition seems
to have influenced the portrayal of "Ben-Hur".
[[10]] Plutarch "Life of Crassus" 11.6-7. Plutarch
(id. 8.3) also suggests that Spartacus the Thracian was in fact not born into
slavery at all, as in the movie, but was enslaved through capture. I think that
this is significant; the attitudes instilled in Spartacus by his free birth may
explain the indomitable spirit that enabled him to lead the slave rebellion in
the first place. It is not accidental that the Roman slave-owning classes
preferred the home-born slave, the "verna", to formerly free
individuals captured in warfare.
|
TKW note: the reference
to Spartacus as a “Thracian” does not necessarily mean that he was from
geographic Thrace (i.e. that he was from southeastern Bulgaria -Northern Thrace,
northeastern Greece
- Western Thrace,
or the European part of Turkey
- Eastern Thrace). He, in fact, merely may have been a
gladiator designated as a “Thraex”, one who was armored in the Thracian
manner and was trained to fight with Thracian style weapons. |
[[11]] As far as I can tell, this is an innovation of the
screenplay. Both the novel on which the film is loosely based, Howard Fast’s
"Spartacus" (London 1952), as well as Arthur Koestler’s "The
Gladiators" (London
1939), have Spartacus dying in battle.
0101RomeFilmIntro .doc
Some
Introductory Notes
for the Rome-Movies Course
Although the US political
system is a conscious copy of the Roman Republic, it is the Empire that
fascinates us.
Throughout history, peaks of Roman Empire interest seem to be
co-temporal with empire building: e.g.,
Shakespeare's tremendously successful Roman plays during the Elizabethan era
and modern fascination during the US "(sole) Imperial superpower"
age. (Cf., the sword and sandal flicks
of the post WW2 period). There are comparable German, Russian, and Italian examples.
Strictly speaking (and why not?), in Hollywood, ancient
Religious – often biblical or ersatz biblical -- stuff is made into "Sword
and Sandal movies". Movies with a
non-religious Roman setting are "Toga movies".
Almost always, lessons are being taught – authors and movie
producers are trying to teach the audience.
There is often a great difference between the intended lesson and what
is "received" by the audience, and "reception", of course,
is time sensitive (see below).
Definitions:
Film – what people with pretensions of "culture" go to
see at small "art" theaters in northwest Washington.
Movie -- what the rest of
us go to see at multiplex theaters in the burbs.
Flick – what they usually show in places where you can also get
a beer -- like your TV room.
Cinema – what they do in
France and at the "Cinema and Draft House" at the corner of Glebe and
Fillmore in Arlington VA (the latter of which is a better place.)
Two other words that you often hear in "film as
literature" courses are "reception" and "gaze". There is great controversy about what these
words mean and how they should be used.
My simplistic definitions are as follows:
Reception refers to how material is taken in by a member or members of
the audience – it is passive, although there is (usually) an active element,
which is how the audience member processes the material, i.e., how the material
is stirred into what the person already believes of knows. (The French "deconstruction" fad
took this element to the extreme, saying that what the author might have
intended the audience to take away had lost its relevance as soon as the author's
words (or producer's product) were offered:
the only thing that mattered was how the audience processed the
information. This fad, remarkably, held
sway throughout the West for a while, but we are now said to be in the
"post-deconstructionism" phase.
This is all, of course, just specialist jargon.)
Gaze (sometimes "look") is what the author or
producer is trying to attract, to the story as a whole and to particular
aspects of the story. Gaze is much more
active than reception: the audience has
to look rather than just see.
Both reception and gaze are, of course, modified by time. The time between when the story is written
down and when it becomes available to a particular audience
changes both reception and gaze.
With our material, this happens several times:
First, when the event happens (or when the story is made up) and
the original recording of the event takes place. This is not always as easy to define as it
might seem. Some examples with our
material are: the comedic situations in A
Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, which appear to be Roman but
were actually derived from earlier Greek stock situations and the "horrors
and sex" in the Caligula story, which appear to be derived from historical
accounts of Caligula's reign, but are really derived from pre-existing stock
descriptions of ancient tyranny: nothing
in what comes down to us about Caligula from the ancient "historians"
has any necessary relationship to what he actually did, but what we can be sure
about is that he was immensely unpopular with the successors in whose employ
were the "historians".
Nonetheless, it makes for a titillating story so it's repeated down
through the ages.
Later intermediate retellings change the
"lesson". In our material,
three of the films (Julius Caesar, Antony and Cleopatra, and Titus) are based
on explicit retellings by Shakespeare, who had lessons of his own to add. All of the stories in all three films were
reworked by European Renaissance "humanists" (i.e., people – almost
invariably men -- who rediscovered the "classic" Roman stories and rewrote
them into Ciceronian Latin or their own vernaculars, their avowed purpose being
to find "human" exemplars to replace the biblical exemplars of the
earlier "scholastics".) It's
worth noting here that Shakespeare got his Roman histories (Julius Caesar and Antony and Cleopatra, but not Titus Andronicus) from Sir Thomas North's 1579 English translation
of Plutarch's Parallel Lives, and that North would have been working from Latin
text(s) as rendered by Italian or French humanists.
Recent productions (i.e., 20th/21st
century) have their own added lessons to teach.
The 1937 Scipio film
was a glorification of Italian fascist imperialism, which had been expanding in
Libya ("Tripolitania" and "Cyrenaica") since Mussolini's
accession and which, a few months after Scipio's
premier would lead to the Italian invasion of Ethiopia. The intended Italian audience reveled in the
idea of imperial expansion. Seventy
years later we look on it with revulsion:
the "reception" has changed, undoubtedly because of current
"political correctness".
The post WW2 Hollywood epics (both Biblical and Roman) were
based on 19th century Protestant "novelizations". Quo
Vadis, The Robe, and The Ten Commandments were clearly
"religious message" films, and, not incidentally, had post-war
anti-war messages. They are outside the
scope of this course even though the first two were definitely
"Roman". Ben Hur, which we will not see, was also blatantly religious, but
that's not why we won't be seeing it.
The choice was between Spartacus and Ben Hur, and the former has more
lessons to teach both about Rome and about the societies that made the
movies. (We will see the eight-minute
chariot race scene from Ben Hur, however, (twice): it's too iconic and exciting to miss.) The Spartacus film also has Christian
resonance, first because of the initial explicit tie-in to Christianity
provided by the off-screen narrator and then because of how the Christian West
reacts to crucifixion, not to mention the subtext of supposed Christian virtues
that run through the whole film. (The
narrator's opening "Christian" remarks are not nearly as jarring to
the educated ear as are the remarks – supposedly the words of Augustus in a
reference to his Res Gestae brag
sheet – at the end of the 2003 Italian Augustus
TV film that refer to the birth of "Jesus of Nazareth" in the 23rd
year of his reign.
The Caligula movie was
the result of several different visions (some of them clearly perverted)
working at cross-purposes. The version
we will see is the least perverted (R – rated with Gore Vidal's name back on
the label). We'll talk about but not see
the other versions.
Fellini's Satyricon,
based on the surviving fragmentary Satyricon
of Petronius Arbiter, Nero's supposed "master of the revels", was
produced to draw parallels between Dolce
Vita 1960s Italy and Nero's Rome.
It's pretty tame by today's standards.
What could Fellini have wrought today?
(Something to think about: were the Satyricons of Petronius and Fellini
about satire or Satyrs?)
Gladiator is yet another big sword
and sandal blockbuster. The story is
pure fiction except for the names of some of the main characters. It gets an "F" for historical
accuracy, but the background material – costumes, ambiance, architecture, and
the feel of the colosseum are very accurate.
When Gladiator first lit the
silver screen, several movie critics said that it was too violent and bloody,
but we "Romanists" know (don't we?) that the movies wasn't nearly
bloody and violent enough to accurately depict the Colosseum and Roman
society.
Our final film will be Titus,
Julie Taymore's fairly accurate rendering of Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Titus_Andronicus). This was
Shakespeare's most violent play, and Ms. Taymore doesn't cringe from reflecting
Shakespeare. Shakespeare scholars say
that he was inspired by the "revenge dramas" of Seneca, nine "plays" intended to be read rather than performed
that were written in blank verse by the Roman Stoic philosopher Seneca in the 1st century AD.
Rediscovered by Italian humanists in the mid-16th century, they became the
models for the revival of tragedy on the Renaissance stage. The two
great, but very different, dramatic traditions of the
age -- French Neoclassical
tragedy and Elizabethan
tragedy -- both drew inspiration from Seneca.
There are certainly "modernisms" throughout the film,
but they are clearly both intentional and to the point. Taymore is better known for her design,
direction, staging of "The Lion King" (which, in fact, has some
elements that could easily have been drawn from Shakespeare – see Macbeth.) Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus is, of course, fiction and does not portray any
known persons or incidents in ancient Rome.
However, it does reflect the way life and politics worked in the higher
reaches of Rome during the “crisis of the third century” (235 – 284 AD). C.f., http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/thirdcenturycrisis_article_01.shtml
.
0103Chariot Racing.doc
From Wikipedia, the free
encyclopedia.
Article at: http://en2.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chariot_racing
Chariot Racing
Chariot racing was one of
the most popular ancient Greek and Roman sports.
Early chariot racing
The chariot race at the funeral games of Patroclus
It is unknown exactly when chariot racing began, but it may have
been as old as chariots themselves. It is known from artistic evidence on
pottery that the sport existed in the Mycenaean world, but the first literary
reference to a chariot race is the one described by Homer in Book 23 of the
Iliad, at the funeral games of Patroclus. The participants in this race were
Diomedes, Eumelus, Antilochus, Menelaus, and Meriones. The race, which was one
lap around the stump of a tree, was won by Diomedes, who received a slave woman
and a cauldron as his prize. A chariot race was also said to be the event that
founded the Olympic Games; according to one legend, King Oenomaus challenged
his daughter's suitors to a race, but was defeated by Pelops, who founded the
Games in honour of his victory.
The Olympic Games
In the Olympics, as well as the other Panhellenic Games, there
were both four-horse (tethrippon) and
two-horse (synoris) chariot races,
which were essentially the same aside from the number of horses. The chariot
racing event was first added to the Olympics in 680 BC (but was not, in
reality, the founding event). The race was begun by a procession into the
hippodrome, while a herald announced the names of the drivers and owners. The
hippodrome at Olympia was about 600 yards long and 300 yards wide, and up to 60
chariots could race at one time (though in practise the number was probably
much lower). It was located beneath a hill, which provided standing room for
possibly as many as 10 000 spectators. A race consisted of twelve laps around
the hippodrome, with sharp turns around the posts at either end. Various
mechanical devices were used, including the starting gates (hyspleges, sing. hysplex) which were lowered to start the race. According to
Pausanias these were invented by the architect Kleoitas, and staggered so that
the chariots on the outside began the race earlier than those on the inside.
The race did not actually begin properly until the final gate was opened, at
which point each chariot would be more-or-less lined up alongside each other,
although the ones that had started on the outside would have been travelling
faster than the ones in the middle. Other mechanical devices known as the
"eagle" and the "dolphin" were raised to signify that the
race had begun, and were lowered as the race went on to signify the number of
laps remaining. These were probably bronze carvings of those animals, set up on
posts at starting line.
A chariot race at the
ancient Olympic Games
Unlike the other Olympic events, charioteers did not perform in
the nude (see nudity in sports), probably for safety reasons because of the
dust kicked up by the horses and chariots, and the likelihood of bloody
crashes. The chariots themselves were modified war chariots, essentially wooden
carts with two wheels and an open back, although chariots were by this time no
longer used in battle. The charioteer's feet were held in place, but the cart
rested on the axle, so the ride must have been bumpy to say the least. The most
exciting part of the chariot race, at least for the spectators, was the turns
at the ends of the hippodrome. These turns were extremely violent and often
deadly. If a chariot had not already been knocked over by an opponent before
the turn, it might be overturned or crushed (along with the horses and driver)
by the other chariots as they went around the post. Deliberately running into
an opponent to cause him to crash was technically illegal, but nothing could be
done about it (at Patroclus' funeral games, Antilochus in fact causes Menelaus
to crash in this way), and crashes were likely to happen by accident anyway.
The chariot race was not as prestigious as the stadion (the foot race), but it was more
important than other equestrian events such as racing on horseback, which were
dropped from the Olympic Games very early on. In Mycenaean times the driver and
owner would have been the same person, and therefore the winning driver
received the prize. However, by the time of the Panhellenic Games, the owners
usually had slaves who did the actual driving, and it was the owner who was
awarded the prize. Arsecilas, the king of Cyrene, won the chariot race at the
Pythian Games in 462 BC, when his slave driver was the only one to finish the
race. In 416 BC the Athenian general Alcibiades had seven chariots in the race,
one of which won; obviously he could not have been racing all seven chariots
himself. Philip II of Macedon also won an Olympic chariot race in an attempt to
prove he was not a barbarian, though if he had driven the chariot himself he would likely have been considered even lower than
a barbarian. This rule also meant that women could technically win the race,
despite the fact that women were not allowed to participate in or even watch
the Games. This happened rarely, but a notable example is the Spartan Cynisca,
daughter of Agesilaus II, who won the chariot race twice.
Chariot racing was also an event at other games in the Greek
world, and was the most important event at the Panathenaic Games in Athens. At
these games, the winner of the four-horse chariot race was given 140 amphorae
of olive oil, an extremely expensive prize, as this was more oil than an
athlete would ever need in his career. Most of it was probably sold to other
athletes. There was another form of chariot racing at the Panathenaic Games,
known as the apobotai or the anabotai. This involved jumping out of
the chariot and running alongside for some distance (the anabotai); the apobotai
apparently also including jumping back into the chariot after running alongside
it. In these races there was a second driver who held the reins while the first
driver jumped out, but of course neither of these were considered the winner.
Roman chariot racing
The Romans probably
borrowed chariot racing from the Etruscans, who themselves borrowed it from the
Greeks, but the Romans were also influenced directly by the Greeks especially
after they conquered mainland Greece in 146 BC.
A winner of a Roman chariot race, from the
Red team
In Rome the main centre of chariot racing was the Circus Maximus
in the valley between Palatine Hill and Aventine Hill, which could seat 150 000
people. The Circus probably dated back to the time of the Etruscans, but it was
rebuilt by Julius Caesar around 50 BC so that it had a length of about 600
metres and a width of about 225 metres. One end of the track was more open than
the other, as this was where the chariots lined up to begin the race. The
Romans used a series of gates known as carceres,
an equivalent to the Greek hysplex.
These were staggered in the same way as the hysplex,
but they were slightly different because Roman racing tracks also had a median
(the spina) in the centre of the
track. The starting positions had to be lined up on one side of the spina, rather than across the entire
track as they were in Greece. When the chariots were lined up the emperor (or
whoever was hosting the races, if they were not in Rome) dropped a cloth known
as a mappa, signalling the beginning
of the race.
Once the race had begun, the chariots could move in front of
each other in an attempt to cause their opponents to crash into the spina. The spina had "eggs", similar to the "dolphins" of
the Greek races, which may have dropped into a channel of water that ran along
the top of the spina to signify the
number of laps remaining. The spina
eventually became very elaborate, with statues and obelisks and other forms of
art, so that the spectators often could not see the chariots on the other side
(but they seem to have thought this was more suspenseful and exciting). At
either end of the spina there were
turning posts (metae), and
spectacular crashes took place there as well, as in the Greek races. Crashes in
which the chariot was destroyed and the charioteer and horses incapacitated
were known as a naufragium, also the
Latin word for a shipwreck.
The race itself was much like its Greek counterpart, although
there were eventually dozens of races every day, sometimes for hundreds of
consecutive days each year. However, a race consisted of only 7 laps (and later
5 laps, so that there could be even more races per day), instead of the 12 laps
of the Greek race. There were four-horse chariots (quadrigae) and two-horse chariots (bigae), but the four-horse races were more important. In rare
cases, if a driver wanted to show off his skill, he could use up to 10 horses,
although this was extremely impractical. The Roman drivers also wore helmets
and other protective gear, unlike the Greeks, and they wrapped the reins around
their arms, while the Greeks held the reins in their hands. Because of this the
Romans had a much harder time letting go of the reins after a crash, so they
could be dragged around the circus until they freed themselves. They carried
knives to cut the reins in such a situation. A famous attempt to reconstruct a
Roman chariot race can be seen in the 1959 movie Ben-Hur.
Another important difference was that the charioteers
themselves, the aurigae, were
considered to be the winners, although they were usually also slaves (as in the
Greek world). They received a wreath of laurel leaves, and probably some money;
if they won enough races they could buy their freedom. Drivers could become
celebrities throughout the Empire simply by surviving, as the life expectancy
of a charioteer was not very high. One such celebrity driver was Scorpus, who
won over 2000 races before being killed in a collision at the meta when he was about 27 years old. The
horses, too, could become celebrities, but their life expectancy was also low.
The Romans kept detailed statistics of the names, breeds, and pedigrees of
famous horses.
Seats in the Circus were free for the poor, who by the time of
the Empire had little else to do, as they were no longer involved in political
or military affairs as they had been in the Republic. The wealthy could pay for
shaded seats where they had a better view, and they probably also spent much of
their times betting on the races. The emperor's palace was located close to the
Hippodrome, and he would often watch the games as well. This was one of the
only opportunities for the general population to view their leader. Julius
Caesar frequently watched the races specifically so that the public could see
him, although he apparently was not very interested as he usually brought
something to read.
Nero was interested in the races almost to the exclusion of
everything else. He was a driver himself, and won the chariot racing event at
the Olympic Games, which were still being held in the Roman era. Under Nero the
major racing factions began to develop. The four most important factions were
the Reds, Blues, Greens, and Whites. They had existed before Nero, probably as
friends and patrons of the various stables that produced the racehorses. Nero,
however, subsidized them so that they grew almost beyond his control. Each team
could have up to three chariots each in a race. Members of the same team often
collaborated with each other against the other teams, for example to force them
to crash into the spina (a legal and
encouraged tactic). Drivers could switch teams, much like athletes can be
traded to different teams today. Domitian created two new factions, the Purples
and Golds, but by the 3rd century only the Blues and Greens had any importance.
There were many other circuses throughout the Roman Empire;
there was even another major circus outside Rome, the Circus Maxentius. There
were major circuses at Alexandria and Antioch, and Herod the Great built four
circuses in Judaea. In the 4th century Constantine the
Great built a circus in his new capital at Constantinople.
Byzantine chariot racing
Like many other aspects
of the Roman world, chariot racing continued in the Byzantine Empire, although
the Byzantines did not keep as many records and statistics as the Romans did.
Constantine preferred chariot racing to gladiatorial combat, which he considered
a vestige of paganism. The Olympic Games were disbanded by the later Christian
emperors, but chariot racing continued to be popular. The Hippodrome of
Constantinople (really a Roman circus, not the open space that the original
Greek hippodromes were) was connected to the emperor's palace and the Church of
Hagia Sophia, allowing spectators to view the emperor as they had in Rome.
ß The bronze horses
from the Hippodrome
are
now in Venice.
There is not much evidence that the chariot races were subject
to bribes or other forms of cheating in the Roman Empire. In the Byzantine
Empire there seems to have been more cheating; Justinian I's reformed legal
code prohibits drivers from placing curses on their opponents, but otherwise
there does not seem to have been any mechanical tampering or bribery.
Chariot racing in the Byzantine Empire also included the Roman
racing clubs, but by this time only the Blues and Greens were important. One of
the most famous charioteers, Porphyrius, was a member of both the Blues and the
Greens at various times in 5th century. However, they were now more than simply
sports teams. They gained influence in military, political, and theological
matters, with, for example, the Blues tending towards Monophysitism and the
Greens remaining Orthodox. They also developed in something like street gangs,
responsible for robberies and murders. Although they had rioted as far back as
the reign of Nero, the rioting throughout the 5th century and into the 6th
century culminated in the Nika riots of 532 during the reign of Justinian, which
began when some of their members were arrested for murder. Chariot racing seems
to have declined after this incident, but they had in any case become much too
expensive for the racing teams, or even the emperors, to pay for.
The Hippodrome in Constantinople remained a sanctuary for the
emperors, until it was sacked during the Fourth Crusade in 1204. During the
looting, the Crusaders removed a set of bronze statues of four horses,
originally part of a monument depicting a quadrigae
that was built by Constantine the Great. The horses still exist, but they are
now at St. Mark's Cathedral in Venice.
--------------------------
Sources
·
Boren, Henry C. Roman
Society. Lexington: D.C. Heath and Company, 1992. ISBN 0-699-17801-2
·
Finley, M. I. The Olympic
Games: The First Thousand Years. New York: Viking press, 1976. ISBN
0-760-52406-9
·
Harris, H. A. Sport in
Ancient Greece and Rome. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1972. ISBN
0-8014-0718-4
·
Homer. The Iliad
(trans. by E. V. Rieu). London: Penguin Classics, 2003. ISBN 0-140-44794-6
·
Humphrey, John, "Roman Circuses: Arenas for Chariot
Racing". Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986. ISBN:
0-5200-4921-7
·
Jackson, Ralph. Gladiators
and Caesars: The Power of Spectacle in Ancient Rome. Berkeley: University
of California Press, 2000. ISBN 0-520-22798-0
·
Treadgold, Warren T. A
History of the Byzantine State and Society. Stanford: Stanford University
Press, 1997. ISBN 0-8047-2630-2
0105FunnyThingHappened.doc 
A
Funny Thing Happened
on the Way to the Forum
From
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum is a musical
with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
and a book by Burt Shevelove
and Larry Gelbart.
Based on the farces of
the ancient Roman
playwright Plautus,
it tells the story of a slave
named Pseudolus and his attempts
to win his freedom by encouraging the romance between his master's son Hero and
a young virgin named Philia, owned by Marcus Lycus, a dealer in courtesans, and promised
to swaggering soldier Miles Gloriosus.
The humor is broad, bawdy and fast-paced.
Original
Broadway Production
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum opened
on Broadway May 8, 1962 at the Alvin Theatre. Directed by
Broadway legend George Abbott
and produced by Harold Prince,
it was a smash, running 964 performances.
The
show's creators originally wanted Phil Silvers in the lead
role of Pseudolus, but he turned them down. So did Milton Berle. Eventually, Zero Mostel was cast.
The
production was in trouble out of town. Director Abbott tried various fixes,
including simplifying the complex plot, but nothing worked. Famed director Jerome Robbins, who
idolized Abbott, and who had originally promised to direct the production
before dropping out, was called in to make changes. Robbins had "named
names" during the McCarthy era,
and some feared he and the formerly blacklisted Mostel would clash, but they
worked together well enough to turn the show around. (They soon worked again on
Fiddler On The Roof.)
The
biggest change Robbins demanded was a new opening number to introduce the
bawdy, wild comedy. Stephen Sondheim complied, creating the famous song
"Comedy Tonight." From then on, the show was a success.
Along
with Mostel, the show featured a cast of seasoned performers, including Jack Gilford (Mostel's
friend and fellow blacklist member), David Burns,
John Carradine, Ruth Kobart
and Raymond Walburn.
The young lovers were played by Brian Davies and Preshy Marker.
Karen Black was originally
cast as the ingenue but was replaced out of town.
The
show won several Tony Awards:
best musical, best actor, best supporting actor (Burns), best book and best
director. The score, Sondheim's first time on Broadway writing both words and
music, was coolly received, however, not even garnering a nomination.
Motion
Picture
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum was made into a film in 1966, directed by Richard Lester, with Zero
Mostel and Jack Gilford recreating their stage roles. It also features the
great--if ailing--clown Buster Keaton
and the man who turned down the lead in the Broadway production, Phil Silvers.
Also appearing are Lester favorites Michael Crawford, Michael Hordern and Roy Kinnear.
The
script was adapted for the screen by Melvin Frank and Michael Pertwee. It
rearranges the plot and cuts most of the songs. The movie was not well-received
when first released, but has since acquired a cult following.
Broadway
Revivals
In 1972 there was a critically well-received
Broadway revival,
directed by co-author Burt Shevelove and finally starring Phil Silvers (see above). Larry Blyden, who played
Hysterium, the role created by Jack Gilford, also helped produce. Two songs
were dropped from the show, and two new Sondheim songs were added.
The
production ran 156 performances, but had to close soon after Phil Silvers
suffered a stroke. The show won Tonys for Silvers and Blyden.
The
musical was also revived with great success in 1996, starring Nathan Lane as Pseudolus,
who was replaced later in the run by Whoopi Goldberg and also
by David Alan Grier.
The production, directed by Jerry Zaks,
ran 715 performances. Lane won the Best Actor Tony for his work.
It's
remarkable that every actor who has opened in the role of Pseudolus on
Broadway--Zero Mostel, Phil Silvers and Nathan Lane--won a Best Actor Tony. In
addition, Jason Alexander,
who performed as Pseudolus in Jerome Robbins'
Broadway, also won a Tony for Best Actor in a Musical.
West
End Productions
The
show was presented thrice in London's West End. The 1963 production and its 1986 revival were staged at the Strand Theatre and the Piccadilly Theatre
respectively, and featured Frankie Howerd
starring as Pseudolus. In 2004
there was a limited-run revival at the Royal National
Theatre starring Desmond Barrit as
Pseudolus, Philip Quast
as Miles Gloriosus and Isla Blair
as Domina. (Incidentally, Isla Blair
played Philia in the 1963
production.)
Characters
·
Pseudolus – A Roman slave,
owned by Hero, who seeks to win his freedom by helping his young master win the
heart of Philia, who is a virgin in the house of Marcus Lycus.
·
Hero – Young son of Senex
who falls in love with the virgin, Philia.
·
Philia – A virgin in the
house of Marcus Lycus, and Hero's love interest.
·
Senex – A Roman Senator living in a
less fashionable suburb of Rome.
·
Marcus Lycus – A purveyor
of courtesans, who operates from the house to the left of Senex.
·
Domina – The wife of
Senex. A manipulative shrewish woman whom is loathed by even her husband.
·
Erronius – The elderly
neighbor to the right of Senex who is searching for his two children, kidnapped
in infancy by pirates.
·
Gymnasia – A mute
courtesan from the house of Lycus, for whom Pseudolus falls. (she is mute only
in the film).
·
Miles Gloriosus – A
conceited captain in the Roman army.
·
Hysterium – The chief
slave in the house of Senex.
·
Fertilla the Populator –
A female "Breeding Slave" (film only).
·
Crassus – A merchant at
the docks (film only).
·
Tintinabula – A courtesan
in the house of Lycus.
·
Vibrata – A courtesan in
the house of Lycus.
·
Geminae – Twin courtesans
in the house of Lycus.
·
Panacea – A courtesan in
the house of Lycus.
·
Domina's Mother – Senex's
whip-wielding
mother-in-law (talked of in the play but seen only in the film).
**************************************************************************************
[tkw note: The
image is not at all contemporary with Plautus and bears no necessary similarity to how he really looked.}
Plautus
From
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Although we cannot verify much about Plautus’ early life, we
have certain ideas. It is believed that Titus Macchius Plautus was born in
Sarsina (a city in Umbria) around 254 B.C. According to Morris Marples, in the
early years of Plautus’ life he worked as a stage-carpenter or
scene-shifter.[1] This might have been where his love of the theater
originated. After having worked in the theater, his talent as an actor was
eventually discovered, and he adopted the names 'Macchius' (a clownish
stock-character in popular farces), and 'Plautus' (a term meaning
"flat-footed"). Tradition also says that he eventually made enough
money to go into the shipping business, but that the venture collapsed. He then
is said to have worked as a manual laborer and studied Greek drama –
particularly the New Comedy of Menander – in his spare time. His studies led to
the production of his plays, which were first produced between c.205 BC and 184
BC. Plautus attained such popularity, that solely his name was a guarantee of
theatrical success.
Plautus' comedies, which are among the earliest surviving intact
works in Latin literature, are mostly adaptations of Greek models for a Roman
audience and are often directly based on the works of the Greek playwrights.
(Some might more properly be called 'adaptations') His works include Stichus, Pseudolus, Amphitruo, Asinaria,
Aulularia, Bacchides, Captivi, Casina, Cistellaria, Curculio, Epidicus,
Menaechmi, Mercator, Miles Gloriosus, Mostellaria, Persa, Poenulus, Rudens,
Trinummus, Truculentus, and Vidularia.
[tkw note: The Funny Thing action is drawn from
incidents in three of these plays: Pseudolus, Miles Gloriosus, and Mostellaria
(Haunted House).]
Historical
Context
The historical context within which Plautus wrote to some extent
dictated the nature of his plays, in that there are certain ways in which
Plautus comments on contemporary events and people. Plautus was a popular
comedic playwright while Roman theater was still in its infancy, still feeling
the birth pangs of theatrical evolution. Simultaneously, the Roman Republic was
expanding its sphere of influence and control.
Plautus and the Gods of Roman Society
H.M. Tolliver discusses the state gods of Rome and their
importance as seen in the Plautine Theater. These gods were an important part
of everyday life to the Romans of Plautus’ time and a citizen had a duty to his
state to worship them. Tolliver tells us that the gods were not exactly like
our contemporary gods. They were worshipped but also stood as a national
symbol, somewhat like our flag of today. State religion also served as a
political tool. If the gods supported a corrupt leader, then the people should
too. Plautus is sometimes accused of teaching the public indifference and
mockery of the gods. Any character in his plays could be compared to a god.
Whether to honor a character or to mock him, these references were demeaning to
the gods. These references to the gods include characters comparing a mortal
woman to a god or saying he would rather be loved by a woman than the gods.
Pyrgopolynices from Miles Gloriosus
(vs. 1265) to brag about his long life says he was born one day later than
Jupiter. In Pseudolus, Jupiter is
compared to the Ballio the pimp. It is not uncommon too for a character to
scorn the gods as seen in Poenulus and Rudens. However, when a character scorns
a god, it is usually a character of low standing such as a pimp. Plautus
perhaps does this to further demoralize the characters. The audience is not
supposed to love the pimp, so by making the pimp do sometime against the proper
conventions of society, the audience will dislike the character even more.
Tolliver also relates the ways in which the gods are referenced to by the stock
characters. Soldiers often bring ridicule among the gods. The young men, meant
to represent the upper social class, often belittle the gods in their remarks.
The parasites, pimps, and courtesans often praise the gods with scant ceremony.
Tolliver goes on to argue that drama both reflects and foreshadows social
change. There was most likely already much skepticism about the gods during
Plautus’ era. Plautus did not make up or encourage irreverence to the gods, but
reflected ideas of his time. Some of Plautus’ often religious beliefs may have
come out in his works, but the state controlled stage
productions, and Plautus’ plays would have been banned had they been too
risqué.[2]
Gnaeus Naevius
Gnaeus Naevius, another Roman playwright of the late third
century B.C.E., wrote tragedies and even founded the fabula praetexta (history
plays), in which he dramatized historical events. He is known to have fought in
the First Punic War and his birth, therefore, is placed around the year 280
B.C.E.[3] His first tragedy took place in 235 B.C.E. Plautus would have been
living at the exact time as Naevius, but began writing later.[4] Naevius is
most famous for having been imprisoned by the Metelli and the Scipios – two
powerful families of the late third century. The Metelli and Scipios were
bitter rivals of Naevius’ patron, Marcus Claudius Marcellus. Marcellus was the
head of the family, the Marcelli, who were also one of the most powerful
families in Rome.[5] Naevius was caught between this rivalry and was “the
victim of punishment (including incarceration) inflicted by the chief men of
the state (principes civitatis, nobiles) for his attacks upon them.”[6]
According to A.J. Boyle, there is a reference in Plautus’ Miles Gloriosus to a “foreign poet,” showing that poets might have
been “imprisoned for unbridled speech.” Naevius’ imprisonment and eventual
exile is a case of state censorship that may have been a factor in Plautus’
writing. Naevius was being exiled when Plautus was writing and this must have
had an effect on what Plautus chose to speak about in his plays.
The Second Punic War, The Macedonian War and their Influence on
Plautus’ Plays
The Second Punic War, which occurred from 218-202 B.C.E. was the
second engagement that Rome had with Carthaginian forces, especially Hannibal.
M. Leigh has devoted an extensive chapter about Plautus and Hannibal in his
recent book, Comedy and the Rise of Rome.
He says that, “the plays themselves contain occasional references to the fact
that the state is at arms...”[7] One good example is a piece of verse from the
Miles Gloriosus, the composition date of which is not clear but often placed in
the last decade of the 3rd century B.C.[8] A. F. West believes that this is
inserted commentary on the Second Punic War. In his article, “On a Patriotic
Passage in the Miles Gloriosus of
Plautus,” he states that the war “engrossed the Romans more than all other
public interests combined.”[9] The passage seems intended to rile up the
audience, beginning with hostis tibi adesse or, “the foe is near at
hand.”[10] At the time, the general Scipio Africanus was requesting to go out
against Hannibal, a plan “strongly favored by the plebs.”[11] Plautus
apparently pushes for the plan to be approved by the senate, working his
audience up with the thought of an enemy in close proximity and a call to
outmaneuver him. Therefore, it is reasonable to say that Plautus, according to
P.B. Harvey, was “willing to insert [into his plays] highly specific allusions
comprehensible to the audience.”[12] M. Leigh writes in his chapter on Plautus
and Hannibal that, “the Plautus who emerges from this investigation is one
whose comedies persistently touch the rawest nerves in the audience for whom he
writes.”[13] Later, coming of the heels of the conflict with Hannibal, Rome was
preparing to embark on another military mission, this time in Greece. While
they would eventually move on Philip V in the Second Macedonian War, there was
considerable debate beforehand about the course Rome should take in this
conflict. In the article “Bellum Philippicum: Some Roman and Greek Views
Concerning the Causes of the Second Macedonian War,” E.J. Bickerman writes that
“the causes of the fateful war…were vividly debated among both Greeks and
Romans.”[14] Under the guise of protecting allies, Bickerman tells us, Rome was
actually looking to expand its power and control eastward now that the Second
Punic War was ended.[15] But starting this war would not be an easy task
considering those recent struggles with Carthage – many Romans were tired of
conflict to think of embarking on another campaign. As W.M. Owens writes in his
article, “Plautus’ Stichus and the
Political Crisis of 200 B.C.,” “there is evidence that antiwar feeling ran deep
and persisted even after the war was approved."[16] Owens contends that
Plautus was attempting to match the complex mood of the Roman audience riding
the victory of the Second Punic War but facing the beginning of a new
conflict.[17] For instance, the characters of the dutiful daughters and their
father seem obsessed over the idea of “officium,” the duty one has to do what
is right. Their speech is littered with words such as “pietas” and “aequus,”
and they struggle to make their father fulfill his proper role.[18] The stock
parasite in this play, Gelasimus, has a patron client relationship with this
family and offers to do any job in order to make ends meat; Owens puts forward
that Plautus is portraying the economic hardship many Roman citizens were
experiencing as a result of the cost of war.[19] With the repetition of
responsibility to the desperation of the lower class, Plautus establishes
himself firmly on the side of the average Roman citizen. While he makes no
specific reference to the possible war with Greece or the previous war (that
might be too dangerous), he does seem to push the message that the government
should take care of its own people before attempting any other military actions.
Plautus was notably influenced by the political events of his time and thus
gives modern readers a greater insight into the politics of the ancient world
and how an average Roman citizen living during his time might have viewed those
events and the attitudes they might have possessed as a result.
Greek Influence
The influence of Greek playwrights is obvious when looking at
the texts of the plays of Plautus. In the delayed prologue of the Miles
Gloriosus, Palaestrio quite clearly states that, “Alazon Graece huic nomen
est comoediae, / id nos Latine ‘gloriosum’ dicimus. hoc oppidum Ephesust.”[20] So, from the outset, though the opening is delayed a
bit, the audience, if they were not already aware, find out that the play’s
origin and setting are Greek. Added to this, and just as telling, is the overt
use of Greek names and language. Though the Greek influence is quite evident,
Plautus’ plays are in no way Greek plays. Greek influence only penetrates the
texts of Plautus’ plays superficially, i.e., names, language, setting, and plot
outline. Everything that comes in between these things is Roman.
Plautus’ Influences: Greek Comedy, Menander, and Aristophanes
Greek Old Comedy
In order to understand the Greek New Comedy of Menander and its’
similarities to Plautus, it is necessary to discuss, in juxtaposition with it,
the idea of Greek Old Comedy and its’ evolution into New Comedy. The ancient
Greek playwright that best embodies Old Comedy is Aristophanes. Aristophanes, a
playwright of 5th century Athens, wrote such plays as The Wasps, The Birds and
The Clouds. Each of these plays and the others that Aristophanes wrote are
known for their critical political and societal commentary.[21] This is the
main component of Old Comedy. It is extremely conscious of the world in which
it functions and analyzes that world accordingly. Comedy and theater were the
political commentary of the time – the public conscience. In Aristophanes’ The Wasps,
the playwright’s commentary is unexpectedly blunt and forward. For example, he
names his two main characters “Philocleon” and “Bdelycleon,” which mean
“pro-Cleon” and “anti-Cleon,” respectively. Simply the names of the characters
in this particular play of Aristophanes make a political statement. Cleon was a
major political figure of the time and through the actions of the characters
about which he writes Aristophanes is able to freely criticize the actions of
this prominent politician in public and through his comedy.
Greek New Comedy
Greek New Comedy differs greatly from those plays of
Aristophanes. The most notable difference, according to Dana F. Sutton is that
New Comedy, in comparison to Old Comedy, is “devoid of an
serious political, social or intellectual content” and “could be performed in
any number of social and political settings without risk of giving offense.”[22] The risk-taking for which Aristophanes is known is
noticeably lacking in the New Comedy plays of Menander. Instead, there is much
more of a focus on the home and the family unit – something that the Romans,
including Plautus, could easily understand and adopt for themselves later in
history.
Father-Son Relationships in Greek New Comedy and Plautus
One main theme of Greek New Comedy is the father-son
relationship. For example, in Menander’s Dis Exapaton there is a focus on the
betrayal between age groups and friends. The father-son relationship is very
strong and the son remains loyal to the father. The relationship is always a
focus, even if it’s not the focus of every action taken by the main characters.
In Plautus, on the other hand, the focus is still on the relationship between
father and son, but we see betrayal between the two men that wasn’t seen in
Menander. There is a focus on the proper conduct between a father and son that,
apparently, was so important to Roman society at the time of Plautus.
This becomes the main difference and, also, similarity between
Menander and Plautus. They both address “situations that tend to develop in the
bosom of the family.”[23] Both authors, through their plays, reflect a
patriarchal society in which the father-son relationship is essential to proper
function and development of the household.[24] It is no longer a political
statement, as in Old Comedy, but a statement about household relations and
proper behavior between a father and his son. But the attitudes on these
relationships seem much different – a reflection of how the worlds of Menander
and Plautus differed.
Farce
There are differences not just in how the father-son
relationship is presented, but also in the way in which Menander and Plautus
write their poetry. William S. Anderson discusses the believability of Menander
versus the believability of Plautus and, in essence, says that Plautus’ plays
are much less believable than those plays of Menander because they seem to be
such a farce in comparison. He addresses them as a reflection of Menander with
some of Plautus’ own contributions. Anderson claims that there is unevenness in
the poetry of Plautus that results in “incredulity and refusal of sympathy of
the audience.”[25] This might be a reflection of an
idea that the Romans were less sensitive to catering to the audience’s artistic
sensibilities and more to their hunger for pure entertainment.
Prologues
The poetry of Menander and Plautus is best juxtaposed within the
context of the prologues. Robert B. Lloyd makes the point that “albeit the two
prologues introduce plays whose plots are of essentially different types, they
are almost identical in form…”[26] He goes on to
address the specific style of Plautus that differs so greatly from Menander. He
says that the “verbosity of the Plautine prologues has often been commented
upon and generally excused by the necessity of the Roman playwright to win his
audience.”[27] However, in both Menander and Plautus,
word play is essential to their comedy. Plautus might seem more verbose, but
where he lacks in physical comedy he makes up for it with words, alliteration
and paronomasia (punning).[28]
Plautus is well known for his devotion to puns, especially when
it comes to the names of his characters. In Miles Gloriosus, for instance, the
female concubine’s name, Philocomasium, translates to “lover of a good party” –
which is quite apt when we learn about the tricks and wild ways of this
prostitute.
Character
Plautus’ characters – many of which seem to crop up in quite a
few of his plays – also came from Greek stock, though they too received some
Plautine innovations. Indeed, since Plautus was adapting these plays it would be difficult not to have the same kinds of
characters – roles such as slaves, concubines, soldiers, and old men. By
working with the characters that were already there but injecting his own
creativity, as J.C.B. Lowe wrote in his article “Aspects of Plautus’
Originality in the Asinaria,” “Plautus could substantially modify the
characterization, and thus the whole emphasis of a play”[29]
The Clever Slave
One of the best examples of this method is the Plautine slave, a
form that plays a major role in quite a few of Plautus’ works. The “clever
slave” in particular is a very strong character; he not only provides
exposition and humor, but also often drives the plot in Plautus’ plays. C.
Stace argues that Plautus took the stock slave character from New Comedy in
Greece and altered it for his own purposes. What Stace argues gives us both
evidence of Plautus’ creativity and his Greek source material. In New Comedy,
he writes, “the slave is often not much more than a comedic turn, with the
added purpose, perhaps, of exposition.”[30] This shows
that there was precedent for this slave archetype, and obviously some of its
old role continues in Plautus (the expository monologues, for instance).
However, because Plautus found humor in slaves tricking their masters or
comparing themselves to great heroes, he took the character a step further and
created something very distinct.[31]
Understanding of Greek By Plautus’
Audience
Philocomasium’s name is not the only character of Plautus’ whose
name has Greek origins. In fact, of the approximate 270 proper names in the
surviving plays of Plautus, about 250 names, are Greek.”[32] William M. Seaman
proposes that these Greek names would have delivered a comic punch to the
audience because of their already basic understanding of the Greek
language.[33] This previous understanding of Greek language, Seaman suggests,
comes from the “experience of Roman soldiers during the first and second Punic
wars. Not only did men billeted in Greek areas have opportunity to learn
sufficient Greek for the purpose of everyday conversation, but they were also
able to see plays in the foreign tongue.”[34] Having
an audience with knowledge of the Greek language, whether a limited knowledge
or a more expanded one, allowed Plautus more freedom to use Greek references
and words. Also, by using his many Greek references and showing that his plays
were originally Greek, “It is possible that Plautus was in a way a teacher of
Greek literature, myth, art and philosophy; so too was he teaching something of
the nature of Greek words to people, who, like himself, had recently come into
closer contact with that foreign tongue and all its riches.”[35]
These superficially Greek, yet Roman plays make a great deal of
sense. At the time of the plays Rome is expanding, and having much success in
Greece. W.S. Anderson has commented that Plautus, “is using and abusing Greek
comedy to imply the superiority of Rome, in all its crude vitality, over the
Greek world, which was now the political dependent of Rome, whose effete comic
plots helped explain why the Greeks proved inadequate in the real world of the
third and second centuries, in which the Romans exercised mastery.[36] They are
in fact colonizing the region, which is a shadow of what it once was. Plautus
was known for his adaptations of Greek originals but, his plays are much more
authentic than just adaptations. Plautus was not merely imitating his Greek
forefathers he was distorting the plays that he had in mind.
Plautus: Copycat or Creative Playwright?
Plautus was known for the use of Greek style in his plays.
However, this has been a point of contention among modern scholars. One
argument states that Plautus writes with originality and creativity – the
other, that Plautus is a copycat of Greek New Comedy and that he makes no
original contribution to playwriting. However, the reality lies in the middle
of these two arguments. Plautus writes with a remarkable amount of creativity.
However, he was influenced greatly by the Greek New Comedy playwrights of the
past – particularly Menander.
A single reading of the Miles Gloriosus leaves the reader with
the notion that the names, place, and play is Greek, but one must look beyond
these superficial interpretations. Then again, W.S. Anderson would steer any
reader away from the idea that Plautus’ plays are somehow not his own or at
least only his interpretation. Anderson says that, “Plautus homogenizes all the
plays as vehicles for his special exploitation. Against the spirit of the Greek
original, he engineers events at the end... or alter[s] the situation to fit
his expectations.”[37] Anderson’s vehement reaction to
the co-opting of Greek plays by Plautus seems to suggest that they are in no
way like their originals were. It seems more likely that Plautus was just
experimenting putting Roman ideas in Greek forms.
Greece and Rome, although always put into the same category,
were entirely different worlds with entirely differently paradigms and
ways-of-life. W. Geoffrey Arnott says that “we see that a set of formulae [used
in the plays] concerned with characterization, motif, and situation has been
applied to two dramatic situations which possess in themselves just as many
difference as they do similarities.”[38] It is
important to compare the two authors and the remarkable similarities between
them because it is essential in understanding Plautus. He writes about Greeks
like a Greek. However, it is also important to note that Plautus and the
writers of Greek New Comedy, such as Menander, were writing in two completely
different contexts.
Contaminatio
One idea that is important to recognize is that of contaminatio,
which refers to the mixing of elements of two or more source plays. Plautus, it
seems, is quite open to this method of adaptation, and quite a few of his plots
seem stitched together from different stories. One excellent example is his
Bacchides and its supposed Greek predecessor, Menander’s Dis Exapaton. The
original Greek title translates as “The Man Deceiving Twice,” yet the Plautine
version has three tricks. However Plautus might have
expanded himself upon the original plot in order to make a statement about
Roman culture versus Greek culture – the possibility of another Greek play
which happens to fit the space left by Dis Exapaton seems too improbable.[39]
V. Castellani commented that:
Plautus’ attack on the genre whose material he pirated was, as
already stated, fourfold. He deconstructed many of the Greek plays’ finely
constructed plots; he reduced some, exaggerated others of the nicely drawn
characters of Menander and of Menander’s contemporaries and followers into
caricatures; he substituted for or superimposed upon the elegant humor of his
models his own more vigorous, more simply ridiculous foolery in action, in
statement, even in language. [40]
By exploring ideas about Roman loyalty, Greek deceit, and
differences in ethnicity, “Plautus in a sense surpassed his model.”[41] He was not content to rest solely on a loyal
adaptation that, while amusing, was not new or engaging for Rome. Plautus took
what he found but again made sure to expand, subtract, and modify. In “Criteria
of Originality in Plautus,”[42] Henry Prescott writes
that many of the allusions to the Greek culture “come, not from the Greek
originals, but from the mind and fancy of the Roman Poet himself.” While
Plautus changes much of what he found in the older comedies, he didn’t throw
all Greek aspects out the window – he, and his audience, were familiar enough
with Greek culture that they could appreciate such jokes. He clearly saw something
in those plays that made him leave such a strong Greek air in his adaptations.
It seems to be the consensus of at least some scholars that Plautus is
influenced by the Greeks only insofar as he needed to when devising his plays
during the infancy of Roman comedy. He seems to have followed the same path
that Horace did, though Horace is much later, in that he is putting Roman ideas
in Greek forms. He is not only imitating the Greeks, but he is in fact
distorting, cutting up, and transforming the plays into something entirely
Roman. In essence it is Greek theater colonized by Rome and its playwrights.
Stagecraft
In Ancient Greece during the time of New Comedy, from which
Plautus drew so much of his inspiration, there were permanent theaters that
catered to the audience as well as the actor. The greatest playwrights of the
day had quality facilities in which to present their work and, in a general
sense, there was always enough public support to keep the theater running and
successful. However, this was not the case in Rome during the time of the
Republic when Plautus would have been writing his plays. Though the debate
about this topic has sometimes been hindered by a lack of evidence, scholars
have illuminated parts this field, and thus facilitated further research of the
subject. What they have found is that while there was public support for
theater and people came to enjoy tragedy and comedy alike, there was a notable
lack of governmental support. The result was that there was not a permanent
theater until Pompey dedicated the first one in 55 B.C.E in the Campus
Martius.[43] The lack of a permanent space was extremely influential, and it
gives us great insight if we are exploring the history of Roman theater and its
ramifications on Plautine stagecraft.
The question of why there were no permanent theaters in Rome
until 55 B.C.E. is a puzzling question for contemporary scholars of Roman
drama. In their introduction to the Miles Gloriosus, Hammond, Mack and Moskalew
say that, “the Romans were acquainted with the Greek stone theater, but,
because they believed drama to be a demoralizing influence, they had a strong
aversion to the erection of permanent theaters.”[44]
This worry rings true when considering the subject matter of Plautus’ plays.
The unreal becomes reality on stage in his work. T.J. Moore notes that, “all
distinction between the play, production, and ‘real life’ has been obliterated
[Plautus’ play Curculio]”.[45] This
must have been a concern for any upstanding citizen, and so a place where
social norms were upended could not become an institution lest bad, or at least
inappropriate, behavior be reinforced. Obviously the
aristocracy was afraid of the power of the theater. They wished to assert
control over the medium and went about doing so by making it impermanent. It
would have been merely by their good graces and unlimited resources that a
temporary stage would have been built during specific festivals.
The Importance of the Ludi
Roman drama, specifically Plautine comedy, was acted out on
stage during the ludi or festival
games. These plays were acted out during the day on wooden stages. Some were
more important to drama - for instance, in his discussion of the importance of
the ludi Megalenses in early Roman
theater, John Arthur Hanson says that this particular festival “provided more
days for dramatic representations than any of the other regular festivals, and
it is in connection with these ludi
that the most definite and secure literary evidence for the site of scenic
games has come down to us.”[46] Because the ludi
were religious in nature, it was appropriate for the Romans to set up this
temporary stage close to the temple of the deity being celebrated. S.M.
Goldberg notes that, “ludi were
generally held within the precinct of the particular god being honored”.[47]
But that information only tells us the where and the when. While there has been
much debate about for whom these plays were performed, it is clear that certain
members of the audience had their own special realms around the stage. T.J.
Moore notes that, “seating in the temporary theaters where Plautus’ plays were
first performed was often insufficient for all those who wished to see the
play, that the primary criterion for determining who was to stand and who could
sit was social status”.[48] This is not to say that the lower classes did not
see the plays, but simply means that they probably had to stand while watching
it. So these plays were performed in public for the
public with the most prominent members of the society in the forefront.
As noted above, in the place of these familiar permanent
theaters of the late Republic and Roman Empire, Plautus used temporary wooden
stages, set up by the aristocracy that provided a performance space for the
actors. These wooden structures were shallow and long with three openings in
respect to the scene-house - because of the time-constraint on the building
process, the stages were significantly smaller than any Greek structure that is
familiar to modern scholars. The time limits existed because while the plays
were performed during these festivals many other events took place that needed
their own space as well. Because theater was not seen as the priority, the
structures were built and dismantled within a day. Even more practically, they
were dismantled quickly because of the fire-hazard in ancient Rome.[49]
Geography of the Stage
Often the geography of the stage and more importantly the play
matched the geography of the city so that the audience would be well oriented
to the locale of the play. Moore says that, “references to Roman locales must
have been stunning for they are not merely references to things Roman, but the
most blatant possible reminders that the production occurs in the city of Rome.”[50] So, Plautus seems to have choreographed his plays
somewhat true-to-life. To do this, he needed his characters to exit and enter to
or from whatever area their social standing would befit.
Character and social standing are of the utmost importance when
trying to figure out the puzzle that is Plautine stagecraft and stage-space.
Two scholars, V.J. Rosivach and N.E. Andrews, have made interesting
observations about stagecraft in Plautus: V.J. Rosivach writes about
identifying the side of the stage with both social status and geography. He
says that, for example, “the house of the medicus
lies offstage to the right. It would be in the forum or thereabouts that one
would expect to find a medicus.”[51] Moreover, he says that characters that oppose one
another always have to exit in opposite directions. In a slightly different
vein, N.E. Andrews discusses the spatial semantics of Plautus; he has observed
that even the different spaces of the stage are thematically charged. He
states:
Plautus’ Casina
employs these conventional tragic correlations between male/outside and
female/inside, but then inverts them in order to establish an even more complex
relationship among genre, gender and dramatic space. In the Casina, the struggle for control between
men and women... is articulated by characters’ efforts to control stage
movement into and out of the house.
[52]
So while it seems that there is a place for everyone in the plays
of Plautus, no one stays in their place. And what clues us in to these
specified realms is the way that the spaces are transgressed.
Andrews makes note of the fact that power struggle in the Casina
is evident in the verbal comings and goings. In fact
the words of action and the way that they are said are quite important to
stagecraft. The words denoting direction or action such as abeo (“I go off”), transeo
(“I go over”), fores crepuerunt (“the
doors creak”), or intus (“inside”),
which signal any character’s departure or entrance, are standard in the
dialogue of Plautus’ plays. These verbs of motion or phrases can be taken as
Plautine stage direction since no overt stage directions are apparent. Often,
though, in these interchanges of characters, in Plautine adaptations of Greek
originals, there occurs the need to move on to the next act. Plautus then might
use what is known as a “cover monologue”. About this S.M. Goldberg notes that,
“it marks the passage of time less by its length than by its direct and
immediate address to the audience and by its switch from senarii in the dialogue to iambic
septenarii. The resulting shift of mood distracts and distorts our sense of
passing time.”[53] And so one method Plautus used to
stage the play within the text was to change the meter and type of speech,
which clued in the audience to the coming of the next act.
Relationship with the Audience
The small stages had a significant effect on the stagecraft of
ancient Roman theater. Because of this limited space, there was also limited
movement. Greek theater allowed for grand gestures and extensive action to
reach the audience members who were in the very back of the theater. However the Romans would have had to depend more on their
voices than large physicality. There was not an orchestra available like there
was for the Greeks and this is reflected in the notable lack of a chorus in
Roman drama. The replacement character that acts as the chorus would in Greek
drama is often called the “prologue.”[54]
Goldberg says that, “these changes fostered a different
relationship between actors and the space in which they performed and also
between them and their audiences.”[55] Actors were
thrust into much closer audience interaction. Because of this, a certain acting
style became required that is more familiar to modern audiences. Because they
would have been in such close proximity to the actors, ancient Roman audiences
would have wanted attention and direct acknowledgement form the actors.[56]
That relationship between the actor and his audience was a very
important one. Not only was the job of the actor in relation to the audience
closer than it had ever been, but the relation of the audience to the stage was
much closer. Because there was no orchestra, there was no space separating the
audience from the stage. The audience could stand directly in front of the
elevated wooden platform. This gave them the opportunity to look at the actors
from a much different perspective. They would have seen every detail of the
actor and hear every word he said. The audience member would have wanted that
actor to speak directly to them. It was a part of the thrill, and, to this day,
is still a thrill for audiences enjoying comedy or any type of theater. [57]
Plautine stagecraft is a lot more than just stage directions,
theater mechanisms and costumes. Most of what we consider traditional
stagecraft is still slightly mysterious with respect to Roman drama. The
impermanence of early Roman theater undoubtedly affected what theater meant to
Plautus’ society - it was something that had not reached the mainstream in the
way that we think of mainstream today. That temporary nature was, in a way,
done to control the threat posed by depictions of subverted order, even in
comedy, maintained by the upper class. However, it’s affect
on contemporary and future theater is unmistakable and the significance of
audience-actor interaction that is so essential to Renaissance theater during
the time of Shakespeare is first seen in these temporary theaters. Despite its
limitation, therefore, Early Roman theater was another important step in the
evolution of stagecraft.
Stock Characters
Plautus’ range of characters was created through his use of
various techniques, but probably the most important is his use of stock
characters and situations in his various plays. He incorporates the same stock
characters constantly, especially when the character type is amusing to the
audience. His devotion to comedy led him to creating characters that were as
humorous as possible despite the repetition or shifts in personality. As Walter
Juniper wrote, “Everything, including artistic characterization and consistency
of characterization, were sacrificed to humor, and character portrayal remained
only where it was necessary for the success of the plot and humor to have a persona who stayed in character, and
where the persona by his portrayal
contributed to humor.”[58] By sacrificing the characterization for humor’s
sake, Plautus’ characters are not terribly deep, only showing the traits for
their stock character type.
For example, in Miles
Gloriosus, the titular “braggart soldier” Pyrgopolynices only shows his
vain and immodest side in the first act, while the parasite Artotrogus
exaggerates Pyrgopolynices’ achievements, creating more and more ludicrous
claims that Pyrgopolynices agrees to without question. These two are perfect
examples of the stock characters of the pompous soldier and the desperate
parasite that appeared in Plautine comedies. In disposing of highly complex
individuals, Plautus was supplying his audience with what it wanted, since “the
audience to whose tastes Plautus catered was not interested in the character
play,”[59] but instead, wanted the broad and
accessible humor offered by stock set-ups. The humor Plautus offered, such as
“puns, word plays, distortions of meaning, or other forms of verbal humor he
usually puts them in the mouths of characters belonging to the lower social
ranks, to whose language and position these varieties of humorous technique are
most suitable,”[60] matched well with the stable of
characters.
The Clever Slave
In his article "The Intriguing Slave in Greek Comedy,"
Philip Harsh gives evidence to show that the clever slave is not an invention
of Plautus. While previous critics such as A.W. Gomme believed that the slave
was “ [a] truly comic character, the devisor of ingenious schemes, the
controller of events, the commanding officer of his young master and friends,
is a creation of Latin comedy,” and that Greek dramatists Menander did not use
slaves in such a way that Plautus later did, Harsh refutes these beliefs by
giving concrete examples of instances where a clever slave appeared in Greek
comedy.[61] For instance, ion the works of Athenaeus, Alciphron, and Lucian
there are deceptions that involve the aid of a slave, and in Menander’s Dis Exapaton there was an elaborate
deception executed by a clever slave that Plautus mirrors in his Bacchides. Evidence of clever slaves
also appears in Menander’s Thalis, Hypobolimaios, and from the papyrus
fragment of his Perinthia. Harsh
acknowledges that Gomme’s statement was probably made before the discovery of
many of the papyri that we now have. While it was not necessarily a Roman
invention, Plautus did his own style of depicting the clever slave. With
larger, more active roles, more verbal exaggeration and exuberance, the slave
was moved my Plautus further into the front of the action.[62] Because of the
inversion of order created by a devious or witty slave, this stock character
was perfect for achieving a humorous response and the traits of the character
worked well for driving the plot forward.
The Lusty Old Man
Another important Plautine stock character, discussed by K.C.
Ryder, is the senex amator. A senex
amator is classified as an old man who for some reason contracts a passion for
a young girl and who, in varying degrees, attempts to satisfy this passion. In
Plautus these men are Demaenetus (Asinaria),
Philoxenus and Nicobulus (Bacchides),
Demipho (Cistellaria), Lysidamus (Casina), Demipho (Mercator), and Antipho (Stichus).
Periplectomenos (Miles Gloriosus) and
Daemones (Rudens) are regarded as senes lepidi because they usually keep
their feelings within a respectable limit. All of these characters have the
same goal, to be with a younger woman, but all go about it in different ways as
Plautus could not be too redundant with his characters despite their already
obvious similarities. What they have in common is the ridicule with which their
attempts are viewed, the imagery that suggests that they are motivated largely
by animal passion, the childish behavior, and the reversion to the
love-language of their youth.[63] This is a type, like the clever slave, which
is fertile ground for comedy simply because of the nature of the character, and
that is exactly why Plautus returned to it so many times.
Female Characters
There is often an inconsistency when it comes to the role
designations given to female characters in Plautus’ plays. To examine this it is important to understand where these role
designations come from. The original manuscripts contained no prefaced list of
character names as most new editions now have. Instead, the manuscripts
sometimes have character names in the headings, or at other times we learn the
role designation of the character through the play itself - a character will be
described before entering the stage or another character will address him by
name.
In examining the female role designations of Plautus, Z.M.
Packman found that they are not as stable as their male counterparts: a senex will usually remain a senex for the duration of the play but
designations like matrona, mulier, or uxor at times seem interchangeable. Most free adult women, married
or widowed, appear in scene headings as mulier,
simply translated as “woman”. But in Plautus’ Stichus the two young women are referred to as sorores, later mulieres,
and then matrona, all of which have
different meanings and connotations. Although there are these discrepancies,
Packman tries to give a pattern to the female role designations of Plautus. Mulier is typically given to a woman of
citizen class and of marriageable age or who has already been married.
Unmarried citizen-class girls, regardless of sexual experience, were designated
virgo. Aniclla was the term used for female household slaves, with Anus reserved for the elderly household
slaves. A young woman that is unwed due to social status is usually referred to
as meretrix or “courtesan.” A lena or adoptive mother maybe a woman own these girls.[64]
Unnamed Characters
Like Packman, George Duckworth uses the scene headings in the
manuscripts to support his theory about unnamed Plautine characters. There are
approximately 220 characters in the 20 plays of Plautus. 30 are unnamed in both
the scene headings and the text and there are about 9 characters who are named
in the ancient text but not in any modern one. This means that about 18% of the
total number of characters in Plautus is nameless. Most of the very important
characters have names while most of the number of unnamed characters are of
less importance. However there are some abnormalities
- the main character in Casina is not mentioned by name anywhere in the text.
In other instances, meanwhile, Plautus will give a name to a character that
only has a few words or lines. One explanation is that some of the names have
been lost over the years and for the most part, major characters do have
names.[65]
The Language and Style of Plautus
Overview
The language and style of Plautus is not easy or simple. He
wrote in a colloquial style far from the codified form of Latin that is found
in Ovid or Virgil. This colloquial style is the everyday speech that Plautus
would’ve been familiar with, yet that means that most students of Latin are
unfamiliar with it. Adding to the unfamiliarity of Plautine language is the
inconsistency of the irregularities that occur in the texts. In one of his
prolific word-studies, A.W. Hodgman noted that:
the statements that one
meets with, that this or that form is‘common,’or
‘regular,’ in Plautus, are frequently misleading, or even incorrect, and are
usually unsatisfying.... I have gained an increasing respect for the manuscript
tradition, a growing belief that the irregularities are, after all, in a
certain sense regular. The whole system of inflexion- and, I suspect, of syntax
also and of versification- was less fixed and stable in Plautus’ time than it
became later[66].
So, it is quite clear that the difficulty of the language and
style of Plautus is an old issue, one that fit the bill to be in the first ever
issue of The Classical Quarterly. The
issue of language and style in the plays of Plautus covers an enormous amount
of ground, and it is far too expansive to go into enough detail to do it
justice. This glance at Plautine language and style shall briefly try to cover
the areas of archaisms, diction, syntax, poetic devices, meter, and the
manifestations of the sum of these parts on stage. The purpose of such a task
is to inform a first time reader of Plautus of what
they should expect in the text. And in turn, this will better the understanding
of the material in the collection.
Archaisms
The best place to start then, would be quickly looking at the
words that come together to form the plays of Plautus. The most shocking and
immediate thing one notices about Plautine diction is the use of archaic Latin
forms. Some might find these difficult to understand, but there are a great
many possibilities for why we find them in the plays of Plautus. It is
important to note, though, that Plautus did not set out to write a play in
archaic Latin, using the term “archaic” only comes from our contemporary
interpretation of the text. Most scholars seem to note that the plays language
is written in a colloquial, everyday speech. M. Hammond, A.H. Mack, and W.
Moskalew have noted in their introduction to the text of the Miles Gloriosus that Plautus was, “free
from convention... [and that] he sought to reproduce the easy tone of daily
speech rather than the formal regularity of oratory or poetry. Hence, many of
the irregularities which have troubled scribes and scholars perhaps merely reflect
the everyday usages of the careless and untrained tongues which Plautus heard
about him”[67]. Looking at the overall use of
archaisms within Plautus, one will notice that they commonly occur in promises,
agreements, threats, prologues, or speeches. Plautus uses archaic forms, though
sometimes for metrical convenience, but more often for stylistic effect. There
are many manifestations of these archaic forms in the texts of Plautus’ plays,
in fact too many to completely include them in this article[68].
Here now, the most regular of irregularities, i.e., archaisms, will be
delineated:
* the use of uncontracted forms of some verbs like malo
* the emendation of the final -e of singular imperatives
* the use of -o in
some verb stems where it would normally be -e
* the use of the -ier
ending for the present passive and deponent infinitive
* often the forms of sum
are joined to the preceding word
* the deletion of the final -s and final -e when ne is
added to a second singular verb
* the replacement of -u
with -o in noun endings
* the use of qu
instead of c, as in quom instead of cum
* the use of the -ai
genitive singular ending
* the addition of a final -d
onto personal pronouns in the accusative or ablative
* there is sometimes the addition of a final -pte, -te, or -met to pronouns
* the use of -is as
the nominative plural ending[69]
These peculiarities are the most common in the plays of Plautus,
and their notation should make initial readings a bit easier. Archaic word
forms in Plautus reflect the way that his contemporaries interacted. Plautus’
use of colloquial dialogue helps us understand, to a certain extent, how Roman’s would have greeted each other and consequentially
responded. For example, there are certain formulaic greetings such as “hello”
and “how are you?” that illicit a certain formulaic response such as a
returning hello, or answer as to your state of being well. Quid agis here would mean, “How are you?” Other responses are
factual and have a less fixed answer. Overall though,
archaic forms present the reader with a richer understanding of the Latin
language.
Means of Expression
There are certain ways in which Plautus expressed himself in his
plays, and these individual means of expression give a certain flair to his
style of writing. The means of expression are not always specific to the
writer, i.e., idiosyncratic, yet they are characteristic of the writer. The two
examples of these characteristic means of expression are the use of proverbs
and the use of Greek language in the plays of Plautus. Plautus employs the use
of proverbs in many of his plays. G.L. Beede defines proverbs as sayings
currently among the folk. They are fundamentally of popular appeal, employed to
drive home a point, to sum up a situation, and to characterize. Many times proverbs will addresses a
certain genre such as law, religion, medicine, trades, crafts, and seafaring.
Plautus’ proverbs and proverbial expressions number into the hundreds. They
sometimes appear alone or interwoven within a speech. The most common
appearance of proverbs in Plautus appears to be at the end of a soliloquy.
Plautus does this for dramatic effect to emphasize a point. Further interwoven
into the plays of Plautus and just as common as the use of proverbs is the use
of Greek within the texts of the plays. J.N. Hough suggests that Plautus’ use
of Greek is for artistic purposes and not simply because a Latin phrase will
not fit the meter. Greek words are used when describing foods, oils, perfumes,
etc. This is similar to our use of other languages in the English language such
as the words garcon or rendezvous. These words give us
a French flair just as the Greek would to the Romans. Slaves or characters of
low standing speak much of the Greek. One possible explanation for this is that
many Roman slaves would have been foreigners perhaps even speaking Greek.
Poetic Devices
Plautus also used more technical means of expression in his
plays. One tool that Plautus used for the expression of his servus callidus stock character was
alliteration. Alliteration is the repetition of sounds in a sentence or clause;
those sounds usually come at the beginning of words. In the Miles Gloriosus, the servus callidus is Palaestrio. As he
speaks with the character, Periplectomenus, he uses a significant amount of
alliteration in order to assert his cleverness and, therefore, his authority.
Plautus uses phrases such as “falsiloquom, falsicum,falsiiurium”
(MG l. 191). These words express the
deep and respectable knowledge that Palaestriohas of the Latin language.
Alliteration can also happen at the endings of words as well. For example,
Palaestrio says, “ linguam, perfidiam, malitiam atque
audaciam, confidentiam, confirmitatem, fraudulentiam” (MG ll. 188-9). Also used, as seen above, is the technique of
assonance, which is the repetition of similar sounding syllables. Word play is
also a technique quite obvious in the plays of Plautus. There are various
manifestations of word play in Plautus, but one instance in the Miles Gloriosus is Sceledre, scelus. This example is one of the
punning of names in Plautus. Word play figures as an important technique in
Plautus because it is fitting for certain characters, especially the clever
slave. These poetic devices stand in the text in order to accentuate and emphasize
whatever is being said in the text, and it also elevates the artistry of the
language.
Meter
Further emphasizing and elevating the artistry of the language
of the plays of Plautus is the use of meter, which simply put is the rhythm of
the play. There seems to be great debate over whether Plautus found favor in
strong word accent or verse ictus, stress. Plautus did not follow the meter of
the Greek originals that he adapted for the Roman audience. Plautus used a
great number of meters, but most frequently he used the trochaic septenarius.
Iambic words, though common in Latin, are difficult to fit in this meter, and
naturally occur at the end of verses. G.B. Conte has noted that Plautus favors
the use of cantica instead of Greek
meters. This vacillation between meter and word stress highlights the fact that
Latin literature was still in its infancy, and that there was not yet a
standard way to write verse.
Language on Stage
Meter is not the only way in which the poet expressed what he
wanted to say. The poet also gave each character a certain way to speak, or
perhaps society expected certain stock characters to voice their opinions in
certain ways. The servus callidus
functioned as the exposition in many of Plautus' plays. According to C. Stace,
"slaves in Plautus account for almost twice as much monologue as any other
character... [and] this is a significant statistic; most of the monologues
being, as they are, for purposes of humor, moralizing, or exposition of some
kind, we can now begin to see the true nature of the slave's
importance"[70]. Because humor, vulgarity, and "incongruity" are
so much a part of the Plautine comedies, the slave becomes the essential tool
to connect the audience to the joke
through his monologue and direct connection to
the audience. He is, then, not only a source for exposition and understanding,
but connection - specifically, connection to the humor of the play, the
playfulness of the play. The servus
callidus is a character that, as McCarthy says, "draws the complete
attention of the audience, and, according to C. Stace, 'despite his lies and
abuse, claims our complete sympathy'"[71]. He does this, according to some
scholarship, using monologue, the imperative mood and alliteration - all of
which are specific and effective linguistic tools in both writing and speaking.
The specific type of monologue (or soliloquy) in which a
Plautine slave engages is the prologue.
As opposed to simple exposition, according to N.W. Slater,
“these…prologues…have a far more important function than merely to provide information”[72]. Another way in which the servus callidus asserts his power over
the play – specifically the other characters in the play – is through his use
of the imperative mood. This is a mood in the Latin language that includes
direct statement. In English, sentences such as, “Go!” or “Stay” are in the
imperative mood. This type of language is used in order for, according to E.
Segal, “the forceful inversion, the reduction of the master to an abject
position of supplication…the master-as-suppliant is thus an extremely important
feature of the Plautine comic finale”[73]. The
language, the imperative mood is therefore used in the complete role-reversal
of the normal relationship between slave and master and “those who enjoy
authority and respect in the ordinary Roman world are unseated, ridiculed,
while the lowliest members of society mount to their pedestals…the humble are
in face exalted”[74]. This is not only an essential
tool for the stock character of the servus
callidus but also an essential tool for laughter.
Mscottknight 05:37, 5 December 2006 (UTC)
The Influence and Reception of Plautus
Despite Plautus being long dead, his influence lives on in such
literary giants as Moliere and Shakespeare. The critical reception of Plautus
has been much different than his influence on later literature. On one hand,
scholarly reception of Plautus has come from viewing the Plautine corpus as
crude to something a bit warmer and more complex. On the other hand, Plautus’
influence on later literature is impressive since it has been an influence on
two literary giants, Shakespeare and Moliere. When one puts scholarly approach
and the literary influence of Plautus together, you can still find
pretentiousness and snobbery thwarting contemporary success of the playwright.
The downright denigration of Plautus and his influence on two literary giants
seems not to fit together. Plautus lived over 2,000 years ago and his memory
and imprint on society still lives on. Playwrights throughout history have
looked to Plautus for character, plot, humor, and other elements of comedy. His
influence ranges from similarities in idea to full literal translations woven
into the play. Plautus’ plays, though farcical in nature, are incredibly
penetrating in their exploration of character, even if there are few obvious
changes between Plautus’ stock characters from play to play. The playwright’s
apparent familiarity with the absurdity of humanity and both the comedy and
tragedy that stem from this absurdity have inspired his succeeding fellow playwrights centuries after his death. The most famous of
these successors is Shakespeare – on whom Plautus had a tremendous amount of
influence when it came to the Bard’s earlier comedies.
Plautus and Shakespeare
Shakespeare does much the same thing as Plautus. Shakespeare
takes from Plautus like Plautus took from his Greek models. He has taken
someone else’s plot for his own uses. C.L. Barber says that, “Shakespeare feeds
Elizabethan life into the mill of Roman farce, life realized with his
distinctively generous creativity, very different from Plautus’ tough, narrow,
resinous genius”[75]. So, there seems to have been a
growing inclination to use Plautus as time went on, but there has always
remained a resistance to him as a playwright. Perhaps one of the most famous
plays that Plautine comedy influenced was William Shakespeare’s Comedy of
Errors. Some argue that the Comedy of Errors was a failed attempt to imitate
Plautus’ Menaechmi, but H.A. Watt argues otherwise. In his article “Plautus and
Shakespeare: Further Comments on Menaechmi
and the Comedy of Errors,” Watt shows
that while Comedy of Errors was not
Shakespeare’s best work, its failure was not due to his departure from the Menaechmi as some have suggested, but
due to insufficient skill in character development as it was one of
Shakespeare’s earliest plays.
The Shakespearean comedy most studied for its’ Plautine
influence and parallels has been The Comedy of Errors. The Plautus and
Shakespeare plays that most parallel each other,
according to some modern scholarship, are, respectively, The Menaechmi and The Comedy of Errors. In fact, according to Marples, Shakespeare
drew directly from Plautus, “parallels in plot, in incident, and in character”[76] and is undeniably influenced by the classical
playwright’s work. Marples even uses the word, “borrower” in reference to not
only how Plautus borrowed plots and characters from Menander, but how
Shakespeare borrowed plots and characters from Plautus – especially Plautus’ Menaechmi. However, Shakespeare didn’t
just “borrow,” but he also amplified some key aspects of Plautus’ play in order
to make it more relevant for and more influential over his contemporary
audience.
In fact, before one explores the connections between the two
plays, H.A. Watt stresses the importance of recognizing the fact that the “two
plays were written under conditions entirely different and served audience as
remote as the poles”[77]. The worlds of Plautus and
Shakespeare were entirely different and it is important to keep this in mind
when comparing and contrasting their work, but despite such different worlds,
their work was remarkably similar and equally relevant for their respective
audiences as some things are eternally funny, such as the clever slave
outwitting the boorish master.
The nature of the differences between The Menaechmi and The Comedy of
Errors is undeniable. In The Menaechmi,
Plautus uses only one set of twins – twin servants. Shakespeare, on the other
hand, uses two sets of twins, which, according to William Connolly, “dilutes
the force of [Shakespeare’s] situations”[78]. This
speaks to the idea that Shakespeare took his play “to a new level” in many
different aspects. The number of twins is the most prominent. As a result of
such modifications of Plautine comedy, Shakespeare succeeds in creating a
comedy that is not only Plautine but also Shakespearean.
As a way to show that Shakespeare has a comedic category of
fusion between Elizabethan and Plautine techniques, T.W. Baldwin writes,
“…Errors does not have the miniature unity of Menaechmi, which is
characteristic of classic structure for comedy”[79].
Baldwin discusses the importance in noting that Shakespeare covers a much
greater area in the structure of the actual play than Plautus ever does. This
is also a result of Shakespeare’s audience because he was writing for an
audience whose minds weren’t necessarily focused on house and home but also on
the greater world around them and the role that they might have played in that
world. Another characteristic of Shakespeare’s audience that is certainly
different from the audience of Plautus is that Shakespeare’s audience was
dominantly Christian. It was important for Shakespeare to acknowledge this in
his writing. So, at the end of Errors, the world of the play is returned to
normal when a Christian abbess interferes with the feuding. Menaechmi, on the other hand according
to Niall Rudd, “is almost completely lacking in a supernatural dimension”[80]. Rudd says that a character in Plautus’ play
would never blame an inconvenient situation on witchcraft – something that is
quite common in Shakespeare.
However, regardless of the differences between the two plays,
Shakespeare was clearly influenced by Plautus’ work. He used many of the same
elements. He used the same type of characters as well as the ever
important Plautine idea of the slave versus his master. He used the same
type of humor (adjusted for the time) and pushed boundaries in the way that
Plautus did, an example of which being the clever slave managing to undo all
the chaos created by farcical plot situations, most often a mistaken identity.
It is, in the end, an acknowledgement of the brilliance and timelessness of
Plautus’ work. Shakespeare, although his play is significantly different from
Plautus’ Menaechmi, is a continuation
of the playwrighting tradition in general. He in no way tried discredit the
work of Plautus, but simply built on what had existed before him. Although he
did rely heavily on Plautus’ work for his first comedy, Shakespeare eventually
departed from a form of translation to a combination of Plautine devices and
facets of Elizabethan drama.
Watt argues that Shakespeare’s departure from the Menaechmi is because Shakespeare takes
his influence not only from Plautus, but also from Elizabethan drama. The
Menaechmi already has one set of twins, and Shakespeare adds the servant twins
as well. One suggestion is that Shakespeare got this idea from Plautus’
Amphitruo, in which both twin masters and twin slaves appear. Another is that
the doubling is just a stock situation of Elizabethan comedy (not just
Shakespeare). The relationship between a master and a clever slave is also a
common element in Elizabethan comedy. Again looking to
Elizabethan comedy, Shakespeare often includes foils for his characters to have
one set off the other. Another Shakespearian theme stems from Elizabethan
romantic comedy. In this genre it is common for the plays to end with many
marriages and couplings of pairs. This is something that is not seen in
Plautine comedy. In the Comedy of Errors
Aegeon and Aemilia are separated, Antipholus and Luciana are at outs, and
Antipholus and Luciana have not yet met. At the end of the day, all the couples
are happily together. These couplings are something that Plautus would not have
dealt with. By writing his comedies in a combination of Elizabethan and
Plautine styles, Shakespeare helps to create his own brand of comedy, one that
uses both styles. Watt concludes that Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors is not his best and this is due to lack of
characterization. Here Plautus succeeds, as he has much more characterization
in his comedy. The Comedy of Errors should not be looked at as a failed copy of
the Menaechmi, but as a Shakespearian hybrid of Plautine and Elizabethan comedy[81].
Early Productions of Plautine Comedies
Although a great influence on Shakespeare, Plautine comedies
were translated and performed before Shakespeare’s time. W.B. Sedgwick gives us
a record, as we know it, of the Amphitruo,
perhaps one of Plautus’ most famous works throughout history. It was the most
popular Plautine play in the Middle Ages, publicly performed at the
Renaissance, and the first Plautine play to be translated into English. As well
as having renaissance versions of Plautus’ work, the Elizabethans also knew of
Plautus. There is evidence of imitation in Edwardes’ Damon and Pythias,
Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors, and Heywood’s Silver Age. Heywood sometimes
even translated whole passages of Plautus. By being translated as well as
imitated, Plautus is a major influence on comedy of the Elizabethan era and the
Middle Ages, as can be seen in the Stonyhurst Pageants.
By looking to the Middle Ages and the entertainment typical of
its day, H.W. Cole discusses the influence of Plautus and Terence on the
Stonyhurst Pageants. The Stonyhurst Pageants are manuscripts of Old Testament
plays that were probably composed after 1609 in Lancashire. Cole focuses on
Plautus’ influence on the particular Pageant of Naaman. The playwright of this
pageant breaks away from the traditional style of religious medieval drama and
relies heavily on the works of Plautus. Overall, the playwright cross-references
eighteen of the twenty surviving plays of Plautus and five of the six Terence
ones. It is clear that the author of the Stonyhurst Pageant of Naaman had a
great knowledge of Plautus and was significantly influenced by this[82]. As well as being performed in the early 1600’s,
Plautus’ plays and their influence goes back to even
the early 1500’s.
Even though few records of the plays of the 1500’s exist,
Bradner discusses the first known university production of Plautus in England.
Although uncertain, through the limited records we can guess that this first
production was of Miles Gloriosus at
Oxford in 1522. The earliest recorded performance of a Plautine play comes from
the magnum jornale of Queens College
which contains a reference to a comoedia Plauti in either 1522 or 1523. This
fits directly with comments made in the poems of Leland about the date of the
production. The next production of Miles
Gloriosus that we know of from limited records, was given by the
Westminster School in 1564[83]. Other records also tell us about performances
of the Menaechmi. From our knowledge,
performances were given in the house of Cardinal Wolsey by boys of St. Paul’s
School as early as 1527[84]. From this we can determine that Plautus had a
lasting influence on comedy throughout history. His influence ranges from little
known plays such as the Stonyhurst Pageants to greats such as Shakespeare. By
having such a wide range of influenced writers, Plautus lives on in others’
works.
Echoes of Plautine Stock Characters and Plot Devices
As well as passing on his plots, Plautus passed on stock
characters and plot devices. Not that Plautus created the stock characters,
such as the clever slave and the parasite, not that he created the pun or
wordplays, but with the similar plots, it is easy to see where later authors
got their inspiration for plots and stock characters and plot devices.
One of the most important echoes of Plautus is the stock
character of the parasite, which appears in many of Plautus’ plays and goes on
to achieve fame in the work of better known literary
giants. Certainly the best example of this is
Falstaff, the portly and cowardly knight who appears in three different
Shakespeare plays. As J.W. Draper notes, the gluttonous Falstaff shares many
characteristics with a parasite such as Artotrogus from Miles Gloriosus. Both characters seem fixated on food and where
their next meal is coming from – Falstaff’s great girth and his constant call
for food, for instance, echo the pleasure Artotrogus takes in a certain kind of
olive spread. But they also rely on flattery in order to gain these gifts, and
both characters are willing to bury their patrons in empty praise[85].
Of course, Draper notes that Falstaff is also something of a boastful military
man, but notes, “Falstaff is so complex a character that he may well be, in
effect, a combination of interlocking types”[86]. And
while Shakespeare obviously had a knowledge of Latin literature, the parasite
was so common in European drama at the time that he could have, in fact, not
have been influenced directly by Plautus but instead received this stock
character third-hand[87].
As well as appearing in Shakespearean comedy, the Plautine
parasite appears in one of the first English comedies, Ralph Roister Doister.
In Ralph Roister Doister, the
character of Matthew Merrygreeke follows in the tradition of both Plautine
Parasite and Plautine slave, as he both searches and grovels for food and also
attempts to achieve his master’s desires[88]. Indeed,
the play itself is often seen as borrowing heavily from or even being based on
the Plautine comedy Miles Gloriosus[89].
Plautus obviously became the same kind of representative of earlier comedy that
he himself found in Menander; as one of the most proficient examples of an
older style of comedy who became a kind of gold mine for newer writers.
In terms of plot, or perhaps more accurately plot device, the
method of conveying his plot, Plautus served as a source of inspiration and
also provided the possibility of adaptation for later playwrights. The many
deceits that Plautus layered his plays with, giving the audience the feeling of
a genre bordering on farce, appear in much of the comedy written by Shakespeare
and Moliere. For instance, the clever slave, which is also a Plautine stock
character, has important roles in both L’Avare
and L’Etoudri, two plays by Moliere,
and in both drives the plot and creates the rouse just like Palaestrio in Miles Gloriosus[90]. These similar characters set
up the same kind of deceptions in which many of Plautus’ plays find their
driving force, and it is not a simple coincidence.
Beyond this, Shakespeare has many other Plautine elements appear
in his work: he uses the same kind of opening monologue so common in Plautus’
plays and includes many Greek names and places, to mention a few of such
Plautine elements. He even uses a “villain” in The Comedy of Errors of the same type as the one in Menaechmi, switching the character from
a doctor to a teacher but keeping the character a shrewd, educated man[91]. While Watt also notes that this is one of
Shakespeare’s least successful plays, it is clear that some of these elements
appear in many of his works, such as Twelfth
Night or A Midsummer Night’s Dream,
and had a deep impact on Shakespeare’s writing[92].
Even though Plautus’ influence did not make the first Shakespearean comedy a
success, Plautine stock characters do make later Shakespearean comedies
successful.
It is in many ways fitting that Plautus became such a source for
writers of any age to look at for inspiration, considering his own reference to
the New Comedy works of Greece. Many of his tropes have become so commonplace,
or so frequently used, that most people wouldn’t even realize the true source
of the technique. His popularity in Elizabethan England clearly had a hand in
this, as one of the greatest writers of that or any time, Shakespeare found it
fit to borrow from Plautus’ writing for his own plays. Like Plautus, he was
able to take certain elements, work with them, and create something very
original and very fitting for his own time. It is to Plautus’ great credit that
his work has remained so influential and accessible in a future that is so different
from his own time. It is clear that Plautus was a poet who had many direct
influences, such as the Greek author Menander and various other writers of New
Comedy. In fact many have written off Plautus as
simply a talented translator, but Plautus imbued his work with his own original
genius and he himself went on to influence writers hundreds of years in the
future. His use of stock character, deceptions, and farce all trickled down
from playwright to playwright, appearing in the Middle Ages, the Renaissance,
and 17th Century France.
Footnotes and Works Cited can be found on the internet at: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plautus#Footnotes
0201ScipioMovie.doc
The film opens with scenes of desolation and defeat, as
Hannibal, the great Carthaginian general, has just defeated Rome's forces at
the Plains of Cannae. In response, Rome's politicians argue and dither, until
the general Scipio Africanus steps forth with a bold plan: a lightning strike
by sea against Carthage itself. A popular general and man of the people, Scipio
quickly gains the support of soldiers and the veterans of his Spanish
campaigns, and soon his daring strategy is in full operation. Hannibal meanwhile
continues to move down Italy, as his brutish soldiers pillage Rome's villas and
defile its women. The scene shifts to Carthage, depicted as a place of vaguely
oriental decadence and exotic intrigue.
A major subplot concerns the vampish Carthaginian princess
Sofonisba, whose marriage to the King of Numidia has ensnared him in a ruinous
anti-Roman alliance. Hannibal, meanwhile, learning of Scipio's gathering
forces, is forced to depart Italy and bring his armies back to defend Carthage.
Finally, inevitably, Hannibal's and Scipio's forces meet on the vast plains of
Zama. The spectacular battle scenes include an extraordinarily graphic sequence
involving scores of elephants *- Hannibal's most famous military innovation -
slaughtered as they charge wildly into Scipio's massed infantry force. Large
clashes of cavalry and infantry follow. In the end, a Roman standard rises over
the stilled field, pronouncing Rome's great African victory. With the return of
peace - and a greatly expanded Roman imperium in the Mediterranean - Scipio
returns to his estate to plant next year's wheat crop.
Italy, 1937, B&W, 85 minutes, dubbed in English, Digitally
Restored. Not since Thomas Edison
electrocuted Topsy the elephant before the cameras in 1903 had the movies so
enraged animal rights advocates. In addition to its 32,848 human extras and
1,000 horses, the making of Scipio Africanus required a cast of 50 elephants.
The butchering of many of these elephants -- one is speared in the eye by
Scipio himself -- was central to the film's climactic battle scenes. Stampeding
madly into crowds of terrified extras, many elephants were hacked and gored to
death -- sacrificed in the interests of spectacle and realism.
0202ScipioneLAfricano.doc
Scipione
l'africano/Scipio Africanus: The Defeat of Hannibal (1937)
"Victory
- Or DEATH!"
Designed
to instill a greater sense of nationalism among Italians close to the outbreak
of WWII, Scipio Africanus chronicles the pivotal battle by the Roman military
leader that quashed Hannibal and his mighty band of warriors and
pachyderms at the Battle of Zama, in 202 B.C.
It's an
obvious propaganda piece, designed to instill patriotism near the end of the Second Italo-Abyssinian War by Il Duce, Benito
Mussolini, but Scipio is less politically overt in spite of some
heavy borrowing from the work of Hitler's favourite director at the time, Leni
Riefenstahl.
Veteran
director Carmine Gallone - whether by his own decision or from the supervision
of Mussolini and his 21 year old son Vittorio
- employs the same-styled cutaways to waves of saluting, cheering masses, and
even mimics the declarations of loyalty by provincial followers when Scipio
calls out to fellow Romans for support.
There's
no doubt Riefenstahl's brilliant use of montages and music were used to model
scenes of moving masses: early sequences are underscored with the same
over-abundant, Wagnerian-styled orchestral fugues and chorus that dominate the
opening celebrations in Riefenstahl's Olympia: Part 1, but in Scipio, the
Riefenstahl riffs are jarring and disjointed, and the decision to mimic a
Germanic musical style is a glaring cultural interpolation.
The
only sequence where Gallone's nod actually works is at the very end, when a full scale Roman forum is gradually filled with victorious
citizens, bearing flaming torches. The dark sky and backlit edifices parallel
the sweeping crowds of flame-bearing soldiers in Triumph of the Will, as they
assembled for a massive book burning ceremony; or the famous sequence of
marching soldiers surrounded by columns of light in the Nuremberg stadium.
(A rare
moment of humour, and one evocative of more familiar American WWII action/war
genre, has an older Roman gob boarding a military ship for Carthage. Lamenting
a lack of action back in Rome, he says he's back to get the job done. From an
American angle, it's the familiar pro-active Average Joe who's willing to
sacrifice his life for the nation; in Scipio, his stance is a bit more
critical, inferring Rome 's power has been completely emasculated by Hannibal
and his barbarians, and the only route to victory lies in kicking some
Carthaginian butt.)
One key
problem with Scipio is Gallone's amazing dull direction, which relies far too
much on static shots bearing bland compositions. Whereas an eccentric like
Joseph Von Sternberg would've exploited the Roman setting with more expressive
set designs, Gallone goes for workmanlike setups covering fairly theatrical
sets. Worse are clumsy edits that make one ponder whether it was more stilted
dialogue from the reportedly longer Italian 117 min. version that was trimmed
to create the shorter English edit (retitled Scipio Africanus: The Defeat of
Hannibal) used for this DVD.
The
Scipio script is just plain banal, and the English dub track - feeling more
like a sixties effort, with some occasional streetwise American tonalities -
tries to distill the basic relationships and plot to even more simplistic
conflicts; throw in a captured wife (Isa Miranda), and you've got a character
marker for the audience to follow the cross-cut narratives, before the warring
sides finally meet on the battlefield.
Gallone
does effectively uses cross-cutting as the Roman and
Carthaginian armies anxiously await the first aggressive step that will
kick-start the battle. This stylistic ploy may also have been used in earlier
scenes, as characters like the separated Roman couple - the hubbie in Scipio's
infantry, the wife now Hannibal's concubine - disappear for a long chunk until
the grand finale.
Allegedly
patterned after Benito Mussolini, Annibale Ninchi's performance is much more
reserved than expected, and the military hero is relegated to a posing icon,
mostly administering the nitty gritty battle tactics after throwing the pivotal
lance that incites Hannibal 's pachyderm division. As with many good villains,
the only figure of genuine interest is Hannibal.
Camillo
Pilotto as the cruel invader has some strong scenes, including a few brief
moments as he hashes out some theoretical strategies with soldiers in his tent;
and, most oddly, when he meets the captured upper-class wife of a Roman soldier
(Miranda), whose home was trashed by brown-painted soldiers, and who clearly
gets raped off-screen by the self-serving ruler.
Revenge
is a main theme in Scipio, and the film opens with a sea of bodies, and a lone
Roman staff that beckons justice; reclaimed and elevated to a symbolic relic,
the staff manages to survive the bloody Battle of Zama in a severely hacked up
form, and bookends Scipio as a sign of sweet revenge.
The
action finale is a real mixed bag, largely because the production used real
elephants in the combat scenes, and some were clearly maimed and killed for
'authenticity.' Scipio marshals his wary soldiers into battle by grabbing a
lance at throwing it right into the eye of a mounted elephant; later scenes
show the poor creatures getting lanced in the legs, and a mother dying on her
side, while the baby - 'humanely' spared by a smiling Roman - hovers close by.
The
rest of the battle is fairly standard, as Gallone never manages to impress the
immensity and scope of the battlefield in spite of actually having fields full
of infantry and cavalry to play with. The hand-to-hand combat scenes are
decent, and unusually gory for the era. (Hollywood 's Production Code mandated
sadistic stabs be generally reduced to clean and fatal pokes in the tummy or
back.)
In
their witty, satirical, and informative 1984 book, The Hollywood Hall of Shame,
writers Harry and Michael Medved chronicled Scipio in their 'Fascist Follies'
wing, and describe the film as the epic that would restore Italy's stature in
the filmmaking world. The film did win a prize - the Mussolini Cup at the 1937
Venice Film Festival - but according to the Medveds' research, the $2 million
spectacular lasted a week in Italian cinemas before it was reduced to free
screenings at diverse public events, and yearly grade school assemblies in
Italy. A New York City premiere failed to ignite the interest of critics and
cinemagoers, and the film ultimately disappeared in the art house circuits.
Alongside
Stalin's The Fall of Berlin and Goebbels' Kolberg, Scipio Africanus is one of three
legendary propaganda epics released by IHF on DVD. The source print for this
disc is the shorter American release version, and while in decent shape, the
print has some harsh contrasts that detract from scenes that one must assume
were shot with greater care for richer shades of gray. The mono mix is
standard, and the DVD comes with a brief text essay that provides a good intro,
and warns viewers about the animal cruelties.
Director
Carmine Gallone explored an interesting mix of genres throughout his long
career, notably (or infamously, depending upon one's blick) the silent mega-production, The Last Days of Pompeii /
Ultimi giorni di Pompeii, Gli (1927), shot on location among the ruins, and
costing seven million Lire. After Scipio, Gallone chose to focus on several
biopics and filmed operas (including Madame Butterfly, with Asian actors in a
unique Italian-Japanese co-production), and returned to the historical epic in
1960 with Carthages in Flames / Cartagine in fiamme, which featured Camillo
Pilotto among the cast.
Film
editor Oswald Hafenrichter later edited Carol Reed's Fallen Idol and The Third
Man, and an eclectic mix of projects, including the Peter Sellers comedy, Smallest Show on Earth, and several British
horror and sci-fic films during the 1960s.
Annibale
Ninchi later appeared in Frederico Fellini's La Dolce vita and 8 1/2, and Isa
Miranda maintained a lengthy career, popping up in a trio of cult films: Dorian
Gray (1970), and Mario Bava's Roy Colt and Winchester Jack / Roy Colt e
Winchester Jack (1970) and Twitch of the Death Nerve / Bay of Blood/Reazione a
catena (1971).
© 2006 Mark R. Hasan
0203The war moves to
Africa.doc
The war moves to Africa
After his victories in Hispania, Scipio returned to Rome a great
hero, and, although he was technically ineligible, was elected consul in 205
BC. He resolved to end the war by attacking Carthage itself, and appealed
directly to the Centuriate Assembly when he found the Senate opposed this. Thus he was given command of the two legions in Sicily, plus
7,000 volunteers he had recruited, and the next year brought the war to North
Africa when he landed at Utica, about twenty miles away from Carthage. Here he
was counting on support from some Numidians, who resented Carthaginian control
and so agreed to provide him with cavalry.
In 203 BC, when Scipio was carrying all before him in Africa and
the Carthaginian peace party were arranging an armistice, Hannibal was recalled
from Italy by the war party at Carthage. After leaving a record of his
expedition engraved in Punic and Greek upon brazen tablets in the temple of
Juno at Crotona, he sailed back to Africa. These records have been quoted by
Polybius. His arrival immediately restored the predominance of the war party,
who placed him in command of a combined force of African levies and his
mercenaries from Italy. Hannibal opposed this and tried to convince them not to
send these troops into battle. In 202 BC, Hannibal met Scipio in a peace
conference, but political circumstances forced him to take battle. Despite
mutual admiration, negotiations floundered due to Roman allegations of
"Punic Faith," referring to the breach of protocols which ended the
First Punic War by the Carthaginian attack on Saguntum, as well as perceived
breach in the idealised Roman military etiquette (Hannibal's numerous
ambuscades). Thus being a very biased view of the
Roman wartime and postwartime propaganda.
The
Battle of Zama
Painting
of the Battle of Zama by Cornelis Cort, 1567
This decisive battle soon followed. Unlike most battles of the
Second Punic War, the Romans had superiority in cavalry and the Carthaginians
had superiority in infantry. The Roman army was generally better armed and a
head taller than the Carthaginian. Hannibal had refused to lead this army into
battle because he expected them not to stand their ground. There have been very
hard arguments between him and the oligarchy. His co-general Hasdrubal Gisco
was forced to suicide by a violent mob after he spoke in support of Hannibal
not to lead these troops into battle. Before the battle Hannibal held no speech
to his new troops, only to his veterans. The new troops proved as cowardly and
inexperienced as he had expected.
The Roman cavalry won an early victory, and Scipio had devised
tactics for defeating Carthaginian war elephants. However, the battle remained
closely fought, and at one point it seemed that Hannibal was on the verge of
victory. However, Scipio was able to rally his men, and his cavalry attacked
Hannibal's rear. This two-pronged attack caused the Carthaginian formation to
disintegrate and collapse. After their defeat, Hannibal convinced the
Carthaginians to accept peace. Notably, he broke the rules of the assembly by
forcibly removing a speaker who supported continued resistance. Afterwards he
was sued to apologize for his lack of behaviour.
Results
Hispania was lost to Carthage forever, and was reduced to a
client state. A war indemnity of 10,000 talents was imposed, her navy was
limited to 10 ships to ward off pirates, and she was forbidden from raising an
army without Rome's permission. Numidia took the opportunity to capture and
plunder Carthaginian territory. Half a century later, when Carthage raised an
army to defend itself from these incursions, it was destroyed by Rome in the
Third Punic War. Rome on the other hand, by her victory, had taken a key step
towards domination of West Eurasia.
The end of the war was not universally welcomed in Rome, for
reasons of both politics and morale. When the Senate decreed upon a peace
treaty with Carthage, Quintus Caecilius Metellus, a former consul, said he did
not look upon the termination of the war as a blessing to Rome, since he feared
that the Roman people would now sink back again into its former slumbers, from
which it had been roused by the presence of Hannibal. (Valerius Maximus vii. 2.
§3.). Others, most notably Cato the Elder, feared that if Carthage was not
completely destroyed it would soon reacquire its power and pose new threats to
Rome, and pressed for harsh peace conditions. Archeology found out that the
famous military harbor, the Coton, was built after this war. It could house and
quickly deploy 200 triremes, while Carthage was allowed to have 10 triremes and
it was a protected against viewing inside.
Hannibal survived the battle of Zama and continued to enjoy a
leadership role in Carthage even after the end of the war. However,
Carthaginian nobility was upset by his democratisation and battle against
corruption. They convinced the Romans to force him into exile, where he met
them and their allies on the battlefield. He eventually committed suicide to
avoid capture.
0204ZamaBattle.doc
Battle of Zama
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Battle of Zama, generally accepted to have been fought on or
around October 19 of 202 BC, was the final and decisive battle of the Second
Punic War. A Roman army led by Scipio Africanus defeated a Carthaginian force
led by Hannibal Barca. Soon after this defeat on their home ground, the
Carthaginian senate sued for peace, ending the 17-year war.
Prelude
Despite nearly two decades of constant victories, much of it on
Italian soil, the Carthaginian commander Hannibal Barca was still in Italia
although confined to the south of the peninsula. A decisive victory by Gaius
Claudius Nero in the brief Metaurus campaign killed Hannibal's brother
Hasdrubal Barca and permanently severed Hannibal from all hope of
reinforcements. Hannibal was now stranded, and forced to sustain a scorched
earth policy throughout Southern Italy. Hannibal had entered Italy as a victorious
conqueror. He humiliated the Romans at Ticinus, Trebia, Lake Trasimeno, and
finally Cannae where the cream of the Roman army was slaughtered. Hannibal had
anticipated using these victories to convince the Italian city-states to
mutiny. Instead, they only produced a growing resolve in the Italian states to
rally to Roman leadership.
After destroying the Carthaginian presence in Spain, Scipio
Africanus proposed ending the war by invading Carthage's home territories, an
area now roughly comprising modern-day Tunisia. Despite the cautious Senate's
opposition to this plan, the Roman people gave Scipio the requisite authority
to attempt the invasion. At first Scipio operated cautiously, acting mostly to
reinforce his army with local defectors. After Massinissa replaced the
pro-Carthage Syphax as chieftain of the Numidians, Scipio felt able to risk a
decisive battle and began menacing the city of Carthage itself. The
Carthaginian senate recalled Hannibal from Italy and he met Scipio on the
plains of Zama leading a ragtag army composed of local citizens and veterans
from his Italian campaigns.
The two men are said to have met face-to-face before the battle.
Hannibal reminded Scipio of fate's role in the war, and how lenient Hannibal
was to Rome when it was on the brink of destruction. Scipio replied that chance
played a role in every decision every day, and would not give peace without
battle.
Battle
Zama marked a reversal from typical battles of the Second Punic
War in that the Romans had less infantry, while the Carthaginians — by the
defection of the Numidians — were outnumbered 6,000 to 3,000 in cavalry.
Hannibal amassed some 50,000 infantry and 4,000 cavalry,
while Scipio had a total of 34,000 infantry and 8,700 cavalry
at his disposal. Placing his inexperienced cavalry on the flanks, Hannibal
aligned his troops in three phalangial lines behind eighty war elephants. The
first line consisted of mixed infantry of Gauls, Ligurians, and Balerians. In
his second line he placed the Carthaginian and Libyan levies while his veterans
from Italy were placed in the third line. Hannibal intentionally held back his
third infantry line, in order to thwart Scipio's tendency to pin the
Carthaginian center and envelop his opponent's lines, as he had previously done
at the Battle of Ilipa.
Scipio
Africanus
Hannibal hoped that the combination of the war elephants and the
depth of the first two lines would weaken and disorganize the Roman advance,
whereupon he would complete a victory with his reserves in the third line and
overlap Scipio's lines. Though this formation was indeed well-conceived, it
failed to produce a victory for the aging Hannibal, who was, by some claims,
suffering from mental exhaustion after his campaigns in Italy.
At the outset of the battle, the superior Roman cavalry swept
aside their Carthaginian counterparts and pursued them off the field— depriving
Hannibal of his entire body of cavalry (though it is believed that Hannibal had
intended his cavalry to lure their opponents away from the battlefield, in
effect eliminating the advantage the Romans enjoyed in this arm). Likewise,
Hannibal’s first two lines, unable to cope against the well-trained and
confident Roman soldiers, were disposed of soon thereafter. For years, Hannibal
had won victories with his experienced army, but now he faced the best of the
Roman army, while he commanded a makeshift army, who fared poorly against the
Romans. As Livy states “...the Romans immediately drove back the line[s] of
their opponents; then pushing their elbows and the bosses of their shields, and
pressing forward into the places which they had pushed them, they advanced at a
considerable pace, as if there had been no one there to resist them...” [10].
Moreover, Scipio came up with an inventive method of
neutralizing Hannibal's elephants. Hannibal lost all of his original elephant
troops (who crossed the Alps with him) by the battle of Cannae, but they were
replenished in Africa. First of all, Scipio knew that elephants could be
ordered to charge forward, but they could only continue their charge in a
straight line. So rather than lining his Roman forces in the traditional
manipular lines, which put the velites, principes, and triarii in succeeding lines
of 500 men groups, Scipio instead put the maniples in a checker pattern, with
his elite heavy infantry in diagonals. Scipio realized that intentionally
opening gaps in his troops meant that the elephants would continue between
them, without harming a soul. He did this, and after the elephants passed
through his troops harmlessly and were picked off on the other side (many of
them were so distraught, in fact, they charged back into their own Carthaginian
lines). Scipio's troops then fell back into formation and continued marching.
Plan
of the battle
Despite these setbacks, the battle remained a closely contested
engagement. When the Roman infantry confronted the Carthaginian third line, the
resulting clash was fierce and bloody, with neither side achieving local
superiority. In fact, at one point during the battle, it seemed that Hannibal
was on the verge of victory. However, Scipio was able to rally his men, and his
cavalry, after pursuing the Carthaginian cavalry, returned in time to deliver a
devastating blow in Hannibal's rear. This two-pronged attack caused the
Carthaginian formation to disintegrate and collapse. Unable to cope against the
well-trained and confident Roman soldiers with his own indifferent troops after
losing his notorious advantage, Hannibal experienced a crushing defeat that put
an end to all resistance on the part of Carthage. In total, as many as 31,000
men of Hannibal’s army were mercilessly killed at Zama, while 15,000 were taken
as prisoners. The Romans on the other hand, lost as few as 1,500 dead and 4,000
wounded.
Aftermath
Soon after Scipio's victory at Zama, the war ended with the
Carthaginian senate suing for peace. Unlike the treaty that ended the First
Punic War, and which amounted merely to an extended armistice, the terms
Carthage acceded to were so punishing that it was never able to challenge Rome
for supremacy of the Mediterranean again. When Rome waged a third war on
Carthage 50 years later, the Carthaginians were far from having the power to
invade Italy, because the Romans had tricked them into completely disarming
beforehand. Unarmed, they could only organize a defense of their home city,
which, after an extended siege, was captured and utterly destroyed.
References
* Hans Delbrück; Warfare in Antiquity; 1920; ISBN
0-8032-9199-X
* Robert F. Pennel; Ancient
Rome from the earliest times down to 476 A.D; 1890
* Theodore Ayrault Dodge; Hannibal:
A History of the Art of War among the Carthaginians and Romans down to the
Battle of Pydna, 168 B.C., with a Detailed Account of the Second Punic War;
1891; ISBN 0-306-81362-9
* In fiction,
Dante's Divine Comedy, poem, Inferno XXXI.97-132, 115-124
Retrieved from
"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Zama"
0301Spartacus.doc
The development of Spartacus was partly instigated by Kirk
Douglas's failure to win the title role in William Wyler's Ben-Hur. Douglas had worked with Wyler
before on Detective Story, and was disappointed
when Wyler chose Charlton Heston
instead. Not wanting to appear beaten, he decided to upstage Wyler, and create
his own epic, Spartacus, with himself
in the title role.
the original movie poster
Screenplay development
Originally,
Howard Fast was hired to
adapt his own novel as a screenplay,
but he experienced difficulty working in the screenplay format and was replaced
by the blacklisted
Dalton Trumbo, who worked
under the pseudonym
"Sam Jackson". Some people feel the Spartacus in Trumbo's adaptation
is depicted as a form of early communist
who fights against the wealthy Roman establishment by liberating the slaves.
The filming was plagued by the conflicting visions of Kubrick and Trumbo:
Kubrick, a young director at the time, did not have the degree of control he
would later have over his films, and the final product is more a result of
Trumbo's optimistic screenplay than it is of Stanley Kubrick's trademark
cynicism.
In
post-production, Douglas was made aware that Kubrick intended to take writing
credit for the film instead of Trumbo. The powerful Douglas publicly resisted
Trumbo's exclusion, and when Trumbo's name appeared in the credits, the
Hollywood blacklist was effectively broken.
Filming
Spartacus was originally to be
directed by Anthony Mann.
However, two weeks into shooting, Mann was fired by the studio because of his
lack of leadership and Stanley Kubrick
was hired to take over. At this point in his career, Kubrick had already
directed four feature films, two of which were major Hollywood productions.
Even so, Spartacus was Kubrick's
biggest project so far, with a budget of $12 million and a cast of 10,500, an
impressive achievement for such a young director (although his contract did not
give him complete control over the filming).
Spartacus was filmed using 70 mm Super Technirama
cameras, which was a change for Kubrick, who preferred using square-format
ratios. Kubrick found working outdoors or in real locations to be distracting
and thus preferred to film in the studio. He believed the actors would benefit
more from working on a sound stage, where they could fully concentrate. To
create the illusion of the large crowds that play such an essential role in the
film, Kubrick's crew used three-channel sound equipment to record 76,000
spectators at a Michigan State
– Notre Dame
college football
game shouting "Hail, Crassus!" and "I'm Spartacus!"
The
intimate scenes were filmed in Hollywood, but Kubrick insisted that all battle
scenes be filmed on a vast plain outside Madrid. Eight thousand
trained soldiers from the Spanish infantry were used to double as the Roman
army. Kubrick directed the armies from the top of specially constructed towers.
However, he eventually had to cut all but one of the gory battle scenes, due to
negative audience reactions at preview screenings.
|
|
SPARTACUS: HISTORICAL BACKGROUND |
Violence Enters Politics:
133 BCE: Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, a noble
plebeian, was elected tribune. He proposed essential land and economic reforms
which threatened the wealthy senatorial classes, so he passed these through the
Assembly of Tribes. Gracchus was very popular with the masses, so he ran for a
second consecutive term as tribune (though this was unconstitutional). A group
of senators led an armed band against him in the Assembly and killed him and
300 of his followers.
123-21 BCE: Gaius Sempronius Gracchus (the younger
brother of Tiberius) was elected tribune for two successive years; through the
Assembly, he increased the power of the equestrian class at the expense of the
senators. He also attempted sweeping economic reforms. Opposition between his
followers and the Senate broke into riots and bloodshed, and he died in the
violence.
The reform efforts of the Gracchi and the
opposition these generated in the Senate constituted the foundation of the two
political factions, the populares
and the optimates.
Rise of the Generals:
107 BCE: Gaius Marius, a plebeian of the equestrian
class and a novus homo, was elected consul and
was designated by the Assembly of Tribes as general in the African war against
the wishes of the Senate. He reorganized the army and successfully concluded
several wars. Marius was elected to five consecutive consulships (though this
was unconstitutional) and then to a sixth consulship in 100. He became leader
of the populares. During this time there
was considerable unrest and rioting in Rome.
88 BCE: Lucius Cornelius Sulla, a patrician leader of
the optimates, was elected consul and
designated by the Senate as general in the war in Asia Minor although the
Assembly had given this command to Marius. Sulla marched his legions into Rome
itself to enforce his appointment and to stop the reform legislation of the populares; this was the first time in history that a Roman army marched
upon Rome. Sulla outlawed Marius and took up his command in Asia Minor.
86 BCE: Marius returned to Rome and outlawed Sulla;
he was elected to his seventh consulship and led a five-day bloodbath against
the optimates. Marius, however, died
within the year.
82-79 BCE: Sulla returned to Italy with his army and
had himself proclaimed dictator. He conducted first “proscriptions,” in which
he posted lists of those condemned to be executed (the Senate had asked him to publish these names with the following plea: “We do not ask you to
pardon those whom you have destined for destruction; we only want you to
relieve the anxiety of those whom you have decided to spare”). A large number
of Roman aristocrats associated with the populares (520, according to
Sorbonne professor Francois Hinard) were proscribed and their property
confiscated. Sulla strengthened the power of the Senate, weakened the power of
the tribunes, and stopped the grain dole. He passed a law that no army was to
be stationed in or near Rome—in effect, he banned standing armies in Italy—and
no general was to lead his army out of the provinces without permission of the
Senate. Sulla retired and died in 79.
77-72 BCE: Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, Pompey the Great, who
had been a general under Sulla and celebrated a triumph at the exceptionally
young age of 24, took command of the Roman legions in Spain and put down a
revolt led by the followers of Marius.
Revolt of Spartacus:
The real Spartacus was a freeborn provincial
from Thrace, who may have served as an auxiliary in the Roman army in
Macedonia. He deserted the army, was outlawed, captured, sold into slavery, and
trained at the gladiatorial school of Batiatus in Capua.
73 BCE: Spartacus escaped with 70-80 gladiators,
seizing the knives in the cook's shop and a wagon full of weapons. They camped
on Vesuvius and were joined by other rural slaves, overrunning the region with
much plunder and pillage, although Spartacus apparently tried to restrain them.
His chief aides were gladiators from Gaul, named Crixus and Oenomaus.
The Senate sent a praetor, Claudius Glaber
(his nomen may have been Clodius;
his praenomen is unknown), against the
rebel slaves with about 3000 raw recruits hastily drafted from the region. They
thought they had trapped the rebels on Vesuvius, but Spartacus led his men down
the other side of the mountain using vines, fell on the rear of the soldiers,
and routed them.
Spartacus subsequently defeated two forces of
legionary cohorts; he wanted to lead his men across the Alps to escape from
Italy, but the Gauls and Germans, led by Crixus, wanted to stay and plunder.
They separated from Spartacus, who passed the winter near Thurii in southern
Italy.
72 BCE: Spartacus had raised about 70,000 slaves,
mostly from rural areas. The Senate, alarmed, finally sent the two consuls (L.
Gellius Publicola and Cn. Cornelius Lentulus Clodianus), each with two legions,
against the rebels. The Gauls and Germans, separated from Spartacus, were
defeated by Publicola, and Crixus was killed. Spartacus defeated Lentulus, and
then Publicola; to avenge Crixus, Spartacus had 300 prisoners from these
battles fight in pairs to the death. (map)
At Picenum in central Italy Spartacus defeated
the consular armies, then pushed north and defeated the proconsul of Cisalpine
Gaul at Mutina. The Alps were now open to the rebels, but again the Gauls and
Germans refused to go, so Spartacus returned to southern Italy, perhaps
intending to ship to Sicily.
In the autumn, when the revolt was at its
height and Spartacus had about 120,000 followers, the Senate voted to pass over
the consuls and grant imperium to Marcus Licinius
Crassus, who had been a praetor in 73 B.C. but currently held no office.
Crassus was the wealthiest man in Rome, a noble from an old plebeian family;
since he had received very little support from the conservative nobles who
dominated the Senate, he had allied himself with the faction of the populares.
Crassus was given six new legions plus the
four consular legions. When one of Crassus' legates attacked Spartacus with two
legions, against orders, Spartacus roundly defeated them. Crassus decimated the
most cowardly cohort, then used his combined forces to defeat Spartacus, who
retreated to Rhegium, in the toe of Italy. Spartacus tried to cross the straits
into Sicily, but the Cilician pirates betrayed him.
Meanwhile, the Senate recalled Pompey and his
legions from Spain, and they began the journey overland; Marcus Licinius
Lucullus landed in Brundisium in the heel of Italy with his legions from
Macedonia. When Spartacus finally fought his way out of the toe of Italy, he
could not march to Brundisium and take ship to the east because of the presence
of Lucullus. (map)
71 BCE: Spartacus started north; some of the Gauls
and Germans separated from him and were nearly defeated by Crassus before
Spartacus rescued them. The slaves gained one more minor victory against part
of Crassus' forces, but they were finally wiped out by Crassus' legions in a
major battle in southern Italy, near the headwaters of the Siler
river. It is believed that Spartacus died in this battle; there were so
many corpses that his body was never found. The historian Appian reports that
6000 slaves were taken prisoner by Crassus and crucified along the Appian Way
from Capua to Rome.
As many as 5000 slaves escaped and fled
northward, but they were captured by Pompey's army north of Rome as he was
marching back from Spain; Pompey subsequently tried to claim the glory of
victory from Crassus, although he had not actually participated in any of the
battles. The Senate voted Pompey a triumph because of his victory in Spain, but
they decreed an ovation (a far less splendid and prestigious parade) for
Crassus because his victory had been merely over slaves. There were no
political purges or proscriptions after the rebellion was crushed.
70 BCE: Pompey and Crassus were elected consuls,
although Pompey was six years too young for the office and had never held any
of the lower magistracies. As consuls, they repealed some of the unpopular laws
of Sulla and restored the power of the tribunes.
Significance of Spartacus: quotation from Erich
Gruen, The Last Generation of
the Roman Republic (University of California Press, 1974) 20-21:
It was not the governing class alone that
would react in horror to the prospect of a slave insurrection. Whatever the
grievances of men disenfranchised and dispossessed by Sulla, they would have
found unthinkable any common enterprise with Thracian or Gallic slaves. It
causes no surprise that Marxist historians and writers have idealized Spartacus
as a champion of the masses and leader of the one genuine social revolution in
Roman history. That, however, is excessive. Spartacus and his companions sought
to break the bonds of their own grievous oppression. There is no sign that they
were motivated by ideological considerations to overturn the social structure.
The sources make clear that Spartacus endeavored to bring his forces out of
Italy toward freedom rather than to reform or reverse Roman society. The
achievements of Spartacus are no less formidable for that. The courage,
tenacity, and ability of the Thracian gladiator who held Roman forces at bay
for some two years and built a handful of followers into an assemblage of over
120,000 men can only inspire admiration.
The Roman reaction was tardy and ineffective. . . . Error of judgment induced the Senate to treat the
uprising too lightly at the outset. By the time Rome took firm steps,
Spartacus' ranks had considerably swelled and the state's finest soldiers were
serving abroad. But Crassus' efforts obtained full support, and the revolt was
wiped out in 71.
Characters in Film with a Recorded Historical
Existence:
Marcus Licinius Crassus (Lawrence Olivier)
Marcus Publius Glabrus [real name was Claudius
Glaber] (John Dall)
Gaius Julius Caesar (John Gavin)
Lentulus Batiatus (Peter Ustinov—won Academy
Award for best supporting actor)
Spartacus (Kirk Douglas)
Crixus (John Ireland)
Cilician pirates
Characters in Film with No Historical Record
of Existence:
Antoninus (Tony Curtis)
Gracchus (Charles Laughton)
Helena (Nina Foch) and Claudia (Joanna Barnes)
Varinia (Jean Simmons)—only Plutarch says
Spartacus had a wife, a Thracian who was enslaved with him
Marcellus (Charles McGraw)
Draba (Woody Strode)
Tigranes Levantes (Herbert Lom)—though there
was a King of Armenia named Tigranes
Source
Barbara F.
McManus, The College of New Rochelle
bmcmanus@cnr.edu
revised June, 1999
Third Servile War
The Third Servile War, also
called the Gladiator War and The War of Spartacus by Plutarch, was the last of
a series of unrelated and unsuccessful slave rebellions against the Roman
Republic, known collectively as the Servile Wars. The Third Servile War was the
only one to directly threaten the Roman heartland of Italia and was doubly
alarming to the Roman people due to the repeated successes of the rapidly
growing band of rebel slaves against the Roman army between 73 and 71 BC. The
rebellion was finally crushed in 71 BC through the concentrated military effort
of a single commander, Marcus Licinius Crassus, although the rebellion
continued to have indirect effects on Roman politics for years to come.
Between 73 and 71 BC, a band
of escaped slaves — originally a small cadre of about 70 escaped gladiators
which grew into a band of over 120,000 men, women and children — wandered
throughout and raided the Roman province of Italia with relative impunity under
the guidance of several leaders, including the famous gladiator-general
Spartacus. The able-bodied adults of this band were a surprisingly effective
armed force that repeatedly showed they could withstand the Roman military,
from the local Campanian patrols, to the Roman militia, and to trained Roman
legions under consular command. Plutarch described the actions of the slaves as
an attempt by Roman slaves to escape their masters and flee through Cisalpine
Gaul, while Appian and Florus depicted the revolt as a civil war in which the
slaves waged a campaign to capture the city of Rome itself.
Spartacus,
Louvre, Paris
Dennis
Fouatier, 1830
The Roman Senate's growing alarm about the continued military
successes of this band, and about their depredations against Roman towns and
the countryside, eventually led to Rome's fielding of an army of eight legions
under the harsh but effective leadership of Marcus Licinius Crassus. The war
ended in 71 BC when, after a long and bitter fighting retreat before the
legions of Crassus, and the realization that the legions of Gnaeus Pompeius
Magnus and Marcus Terentius Varro Lucullus were moving in to entrap them, the
armies of Spartacus launched their full strength against Crassus' legions and
were utterly destroyed.
While Spartacus' war is noteworthy in its own right, the Third
Servile War was significant to the broader history of ancient Rome mostly in
its effect on the careers of Pompey and Crassus. The two generals used their
success in putting down the rebellion to further their political careers, using
their public acclaim and the implied threat of their legions to sway the
consular elections of 70 BC in their favor. Their actions as Consuls greatly
furthered the subversion of Roman political institutions and contributed to the
eventual transition of the Roman Republic into the Roman Empire.
Slavery in the Roman republic:
Through varying degrees throughout Roman history, the existence
of a pool of inexpensive labor in the form of slaves was an important factor in
the economy. Slaves were acquired for the Roman workforce through a variety of
means, including purchase from foreign merchants and the enslavement of foreign
populations through military conquest.[1] With Rome's heavy involvement in wars
of conquest in the first and second centuries BC, tens if not hundreds of
thousands of slaves at a time were imported into the Roman economy.[2] While
there was limited use for slaves as servants, craftsmen, and personal
attendants, vast numbers of slaves worked in mines and on the agricultural
lands of Sicily and southern Italia.[3]
For the most part, slaves were treated harshly and oppressively
during the Roman republican period. Under Republican law, a slave was not
considered a person, but property. Owners could abuse, injure or even kill
their own slaves without legal consequence. While there were many grades and
types of slaves, the lowest — and most numerous — grades who worked in the
fields and mines were subject to a life of hard physical labor.[4]
This high concentration and oppressive treatment of the slave
population led to rebellions. In 135 BC and 104 BC, the First and Second
Servile Wars, respectively, erupted in Sicily, where small bands of rebels
found tens of thousands of willing followers wishing to escape the oppressive
life of a Roman slave. While these were considered serious civil disturbances
by the Roman Senate, taking years and direct military intervention to quell,
they were never considered a serious threat to the Republic. The Roman
heartland of Italia had never seen a slave uprising, nor had slaves ever been
seen as a potential threat to the city of Rome. This would all change with the
Third Servile War.
The rebellion begins (73 BC) – The Capuan revolt:
In the Roman Republic of the first century BC, gladiatorial
games were one of the more popular forms of entertainment. In order to supply
gladiators for the contests, several training schools, or ludi, were
established throughout Italia.[5] In these schools, prisoners of war and
condemned criminals — who were considered slaves — were taught the skills
required to fight to the death in gladiatorial games.[6] In 73 BC, a group of
some 200 gladiators in the Capuan school owned by Lentulus Batiatus plotted an
escape. When their plot was betrayed, a force of about 70 men seized implements
from the kitchen ("choppers and spits"), fought their way free from
the school, and seized several wagons of gladiatorial weapons and armor.[7]
Once free, the escaped gladiators chose leaders from their
number, selecting two Gallic slaves — Crixus and Oenomaus — and Spartacus, who
was said either to be a Thracian auxiliary from the Roman legions later
condemned to slavery, or a captive taken by the legions.[8] There is some
question as to Spartacus's nationality, however, as "Thraces" were a
type of gladiator in Rome.[9]
These escaped slaves were able to defeat a small force of troops
sent after them from Capua, and equip themselves with captured military
equipment as well as their gladiatorial weapons.[10] Sources are somewhat
contradictory on the order of events immediately following the escape, but they
generally agree that this band of escaped gladiators plundered the region
surrounding Capua, recruited many other slaves into their ranks, and eventually
retired to a more defensible position on Mount Vesuvius.[11]
Defeat of the praetorian armies:
As the revolt and raids were occurring in Campania — which was a
vacation region of the rich and influential in Rome, and the location of many
estates — the revolt quickly came to the attention of Roman authorities. It
took Rome some time to realize the scale of the problem, viewing the slave
revolt as more of a major crime wave than as an armed rebellion.
However, in 73 BC, Rome dispatched military force under
praetorian authority to put down the rebellion.[12] A Roman praetor, Gaius
Claudius Glaber, gathered a force of 3,000 men, not as legions, but as a
militia "picked up in haste and at random, for the Romans did not consider
this a war yet, but a raid, something like an attack of robbery."[13]
Glaber's forces besieged the slaves on Mount Vesuvius, blocking the only known
way down the mountain. With the slaves thus contained, Glaber was content to
wait until starvation forced the slaves to surrender.
While the slaves lacked military training, Spartacus' forces
displayed ingenuity in their use of available local materials, and in their use
of clever, unorthodox tactics when facing the disciplined Roman armies.[14] In
response to Glaber's siege, Spartacus' men made ropes and ladders from vines
and trees growing on the slopes of Vesuvius and used them to rappel down the
cliffs on the side of the mountain opposite Glaber's forces. They moved around
the base of Vesuvius, outflanked the army, and annihilated Glaber's men.[15]
A second expedition, under the praetor Publius Varinius, was
then dispatched against Spartacus. For some reason, Varinius seems to have
split his forces under the command of his subordinates Furius and Cossinius.
Plutarch mentions that Furius commanded some 2,000 men, but neither the
strength of the remaining forces, nor whether the expedition was composed of
militia or legions, appears to be known. These forces were also defeated by the
army of escaped slaves: Cossinius was killed, Varinius was nearly captured, and
the equipment of the armies was seized by the slaves.[16] With these successes,
more and more slaves flocked to the Spartacan forces, as did "many of the
herdsmen and shepherds of the region", swelling their ranks to some
70,000.[17] The rebel slaves spent the winter of 73 BC arming and equipping
their new recruits, and expanding their raiding territory to include the towns
of Nola, Nuceria, Thurii and Metapontum.[18]
The victories of the rebel slaves did not come without a cost.
At some time during these events, or possibly during one of the winter raids in
late 73 BC, leader Oenomaus was lost — presumably in battle — and is not
mentioned further in the histories.[19]
Motivation and leadership of the escaped slaves:
By the end of 73 BC, Spartacus and Crixus were in command of a
large group of armed men with a proven ability to withstand Roman armies. What
they intended to do with this force is somewhat difficult for modern readers to
determine. Since the Third Servile War was ultimately an unsuccessful
rebellion, no firsthand account of the slaves' motives and goals exists, and
historians writing about the war propose contradictory theories.
Many popular modern accounts of the war claim that there was a
factional split in the escaped slaves between those under Spartacus, who wished
to escape over the Alps to freedom, and those under Crixus, who wished to stay
in southern Italia to continue raiding and plundering. This appears to be an
interpretation of events based on the following: the regions that Florus lists
as being raided by the slaves include Thurii and Metapontum, which are
geographically distant from Nola and Nuceria. This indicates the existence of
two groups: Lucius Gellius Publicola eventually attacked Crixus and a group of
some 30,000 followers who are described as being separate from the main group
under Spartacus;[20] Plutarch describes the desire of some of the escaped
slaves to plunder Italia, rather than escape over the Alps.[21] While this
factional split is not contradicted by classical sources, there does not seem
to be any direct evidence to support it.
Fictional accounts — such as Stanley Kubrick's 1960 film
Spartacus — sometimes portray Spartacus as an ancient Roman freedom fighter,
struggling to change a corrupt Roman society and to end the Roman institution
of slavery. Similarly, this is not contradicted by classical historians, but no
historical account mentions that the goal of the rebel slaves was to end
slavery in the Republic, nor do any of Spartacus' actions seem specifically
aimed at ending slavery.
Even classical historians, who were writing only years after the
events themselves, seem to be divided as to what the motives of Spartacus were.
Appian and Florus write that he intended to march on Rome itself[22]
— although this may have been no more than a reflection of Roman fears. If
Spartacus did intend to march on Rome, it was a goal he must have later
abandoned. Plutarch writes that Spartacus merely wished to escape northwards
into Cisalpine Gaul and disperse his men back to their homes.[21]
It is not certain that the slaves were a homogeneous group under
the leadership of Spartacus. While this is the unspoken assumption of the Roman
historians, this may be the Romans projecting their own hierarchical view of
military power and responsibility on the ad hoc organization of the slaves. Certainly other slave leaders are mentioned — Crixus,
Oenomaus, Gannicus, and Castus — and we cannot tell from the historical
evidence whether they were aides, subordinates, or even equals leading groups
of their own and traveling in convoy with Spartacus' people.
Defeat of the consular armies (72 BC):
In the spring of 72 BC, the escaped slaves left their winter
encampments and began to move northwards towards Cisalpine Gaul.
The Senate, alarmed by the size of the revolt and the defeat of
the praetorian armies of Glaber and Varinius, dispatched a pair of consular
legions under the command of Lucius Gellius Publicola and Gnaeus Cornelius
Lentulus Clodianus.[23] Initially, the consular armies were successful. Gellius
engaged a group of about 30,000 slaves, under command of Crixus, near Mount
Garganus and killed two -thirds of the rebels, including Crixus himself.[24]
At this point in the history, there is a divergence in the
classical sources as to the course of events which cannot be reconciled until
the entry of Marcus Licinius Crassus into the war. The two most comprehensive
(extant) histories of the war by Appian and Plutarch detail very different
events. However, neither accounts directly contradicts
the other, but simply reports different events, ignoring some events in the
other account, and reporting events that are unique to that account.
Appian's history:
According to Appian, the battle between Gellius' legions and
Crixus' men near Mount Garganus was the beginning of a long and complex series
of military maneuvers that almost resulted in the Spartacan forces directly
assaulting the city of Rome itself.
After his victory over Crixus, Gellius moved northwards,
following the main group of slaves under Spartacus who were heading for
Cisalpine Gaul. The army of Lentulus was deployed to bar Spartacus' path, and
the consuls hoped to trap the rebel slaves between them. Spartacus' army met
Lentulus' legion, defeated it, turned, and destroyed Gellius' army, forcing the
Roman legions to retreat in disarray.[25] Appian claims that Spartacus executed
some 300 captured Roman soldiers to avenge the death of Crixus, forcing them to
fight each other to the death as gladiators.[26] Following this victory,
Spartacus pushed northwards with his followers (some 120,000) as fast as he
could travel, "having burned all his useless material, killed all his
prisoners, and butchered his pack-animals in order to expedite his
movement".[25]
The defeated consular armies fell back to Rome to regroup while
Spartacus' followers moved northward. The consuls again engaged Spartacus
somewhere in the Picenum region, and once again were defeated.[25]
Appian claims that at this point Spartacus changed his intention
of marching on Rome — implying this was Spartacus' goal following the
confrontation in Picenum[27] — as "he did not consider himself ready as
yet for that kind of a fight, as his whole force was not suitably armed, for no
city had joined him, but only slaves, deserters, and riff-raff", and
decided to withdraw into southern Italia once again. They seized the town of
Thurii and the surrounding countryside, arming themselves, raiding the surrounding
territories, trading plunder with merchants for bronze and iron (with which to
manufacture more arms), and clashing occasionally with Roman forces which were
invariably defeated.[28]
Plutarch's description of events differs significantly from that
of Appian's:
According to Plutarch, after the battle between Gellius' legion
and Crixus men (whom Plutarch describes as "Germans"[29]) near Mount
Garganus, Spartacus' men engaged the legion commanded by Lentulus, defeated
them, seized their supplies and equipment, and pushed directly into northern
Italia. After this defeat, both consuls were relieved of command of their
armies by the Roman Senate and recalled to Rome.[30] Plutarch does not mention
Spartacus engaging Gellius' legion at all, nor of Spartacus facing the combined
consular legions in Picenum.[29]
Plutarch then goes on to detail a conflict not mentioned in
Appian's history. According to Plutarch, Spartacus' army continued northwards
to the region around Mutina (modern Modena). There, a Roman army of some 10,000
soldiers, led by the governor of Cisalpine Gaul, Gaius Cassius Longinus
attempted to bar Spartacus' progress and were also defeated.[31]
Plutarch makes no further mention of events until the initial
confrontation between Marcus Licinius Crassus and Spartacus in the spring of 71
BC, omitting the march on Rome and the retreat to Thurii described by
Appian.[30] However, as Plutarch describes Crassus forcing Spartacus' followers
to retreat southwards from Picenum, one might infer that the rebel slaves
approached Picenum from the south in early 71 BC, implying that they withdrew
southwards from Mutina to winter in southern or central Italia.
Why they might do so, when there was apparently no reason for
them not to escape over the Alps — Spartacus' goal according to Plutarch[32] — is not explained.
The war under Crassus (71 BC):
The events of early 71 BC. Marcus Licinius Crassus takes command
of the Roman legions, confronts Spartacus, and forces the rebel slaves to
retreat through Lucania to the straits near Messina. Plutarch claims this
occurred in the Picenum region, while Appian places the initial battles between
Crassus and Spartacus in the Samnium region.
The events of early 71 BC. Marcus Licinius Crassus takes command
of the Roman legions, confronts Spartacus, and forces the rebel slaves to
retreat through Lucania to the straits near Messina. Plutarch claims this
occurred in the Picenum region, while Appian places the initial battles between
Crassus and Spartacus in the Samnium region.
Despite the contradictions in the classical sources regarding
the events of 72 BC, there seems to be general agreement that Spartacus and his
followers were in the south of Italia in early 71 BC.
Crassus takes command of the legions:
The Senate, now alarmed at the apparently unstoppable rebellion
occurring within Italia, gave the task of putting down the rebellion to Marcus
Licinius Crassus. Crassus had been a praetor in 73 BC, and although he was
known for his political connections and family, he had no reputation as a
military commander.[30]
He was assigned six new legions in addition to the two formerly
consular legions of Gellius and Lentulus, giving him an army of some
40,000-50,000 trained Roman soldiers.[33] Crassus treated his legions with
harsh, even brutal, discipline, reviving the punishment of unit decimation
within his army. Appian is uncertain whether he decimated the two consular
legions for cowardice when he was appointed their commander, or whether he had
his entire army decimated for a later defeat (an event in which up to 4,000
legionaries would have been executed).[34] Plutarch only mentions the
decimation of 50 legionaries of one cohort as punishment after Mummius' defeat
in the first confrontation between Crassus and Spartacus.[35] Regardless of
what actually occurred, Crassus' treatment of his legions proved that "he
was more dangerous to them than the enemy", and spurred them on to victory
rather than running the risk of displeasing their commander. [34]
Crassus and Spartacus:
When the forces of Spartacus moved northwards once again,
Crassus deployed six of his legions on the borders of the region (Plutarch
claims the initial battle between Crassus' legions and Spartacus' followers
occurred near the Picenum region[30], Appian claims it occurred near the
Samnium region[36]), and detached two legions under his legate, Mummius, to
maneuver behind Spartacus, but gave them orders not to engage the rebels. When
an opportunity presented itself, Mummius disobeyed, attacked the Spartacan forces,
and was subsequently routed.[35] Despite this initial loss, Crassus' engaged
Spartacus and defeated him, killing some 6,000 of the rebels.[36]
The tide seemed to have turned in the war. Crassus' legions were
victorious in several engagements, killing thousands of the rebel slaves, and
forcing Spartacus to retreat south through Lucania to the straits near Messina.
According to Plutarch, Spartacus made a bargain with Cilician pirates to
transport him and some 2,000 of his men to Sicily, where he intended to incite
a slave revolt there and gather reinforcements. However, he was betrayed by the
pirates, who took payment and then abandoned the rebel slaves.[35] Minor
sources mention that there were some attempts at raft and shipbuilding by the
rebels as a means to escape, but that Crassus took unspecified measures to
ensure the rebels could not cross to Sicily, and their efforts were
abandoned.[37]
Spartacus' forces then retreated towards Rhegium. Crassus'
legions followed and upon arrival built fortifications
across the isthmus at Rhegium, despite harassing raids from the rebel slaves.
The rebels were under siege and cut off from their supplies.[38]
Reinforcement legions arrive; the end of the war:
The last events of the war in 71 BC, where the army of Spartacus
broke the siege by Crassus' legions and retreated toward the mountains near
Petelia. Shows the initial skirmishes between elements of the two sides, the
turn-about of the Spartacan forces for the final confrontation. Note the
legions of Pompey moving in from the north to capture survivors.
The last events of the war in 71 BC, where the army of Spartacus
broke the siege by Crassus' legions and retreated toward the mountains near
Petelia. Shows the initial skirmishes between elements of the two sides, the
turn-about of the Spartacan forces for the final confrontation. Note the
legions of Pompey moving in from the north to capture survivors.
At this time, the legions of Pompey were returning to Italia,
having put down the rebellion of Quintus Sertorius in Hispania.
Sources disagree on whether Crassus had requested
reinforcements, or whether the Senate simply took advantage of Pompey's return
to Italia, but Pompey was ordered to bypass Rome and head south to aid
Crassus.[39] The Senate also sent reinforcements under the command of
"Lucullus", mistakenly thought by Appian to be Lucius Licinius
Lucullus, commander of the forces engaged in the Third Mithridatic War at the
time, but who appears to have been the proconsul of Macedonia Marcus Terentius
Varro Lucullus, the former's younger brother.[40] With Pompey's legions
marching out of the north, and Lucullus' troops landing in Brundisium, Crassus
realized that if he did not put down the slave revolt quickly, credit for the
war would go to the general who arrived with reinforcements, and thus he
spurred his legions on to end the conflict quickly.[41]
Hearing of the approach of Pompey, Spartacus attempted to
negotiate with Crassus to bring the conflict to a close before Roman
reinforcements arrived.[42] When Crassus refused, a portion of Spartacus'
forces broke out of confinement and fled toward the mountains west of Petelia
(modern Strongoli) in Bruttium, with Crassus' legions in pursuit.[43] The
legions managed to catch a portion of the rebels – under the command of
Gannicus and Castus – separated from the main army, killing 12,300.[44]
However, Crassus' legions also suffered losses, as some of the army of escaping
slaves turned to meet the Roman forces under the command of a cavalry officer
named Lucius Quinctius and the quaestor Gnaeus Tremellius Scrofa, routing
them.[45] The rebel slaves were not, however, a professional army, and had
reached their limit. They were unwilling to flee any further, and groups of men
were breaking away from the main force to independently attack the oncoming
legions of Crassus.[46] With discipline breaking down, Spartacus turned his
forces around and brought his entire strength to bear on the oncoming legions.
In this last stand, Spartacus' forces were finally routed completely, with the
vast majority of them being killed on the battlefield.[47] The eventual fate of
Spartacus himself is unknown, as his body was never found, but he is accounted
by historians to have perished in battle along with his men.[48]
Aftermath:
The rebellion of the Third Servile War had been annihilated by
Crassus.
Pompey's forces did not directly engage Spartacus' forces at any
time, but his legions moving in from the north were able to capture some 5,000
rebels fleeing the battle, "all of whom he slew".[49] Because of
this, Pompey sent a dispatch to the Senate, saying that while Crassus certainly
had conquered the slaves in open battle, he himself had ended the war, thus
claiming a large portion of the credit and earning the enmity of Crassus.[50]
While most of the rebel slaves had been killed on the
battlefield, some 6,000 survivors had been captured by the legions of Crassus.
All 6,000 were crucified along the road between Rome and Capua.[51]
Pompey and Crassus reaped political benefit for having put down
the rebellion. Both Crassus and Pompey returned to Rome with their legions and
refused to disband them, instead encamping them outside Rome.[52] Both men
stood for the consulship of 70 BC, even though Pompey was ineligible to do so
because of his age, nor had he ever served as praetor or quaestor.[53]
Nonetheless, both men were elected consul for 70 BC,[54] partly due to the
implied threat of their armed legions encamped outside the city.[55]
The effects of the Third Servile War on the Roman attitudes
towards slavery, and the institution of slavery in Rome, are harder to
determine. Certainly the revolt had shaken the Roman people, who "out of
sheer fear seem to have begun to treat their slaves less harshly than
before."[56] The wealthy owners of the latifundia began to reduce the
number of agricultural slaves, opting to employ the large pool of formerly
dispossessed freemen in sharecropping arrangements.[57] With the end of Julius Caesar's
Gallic Wars in 52 BC, the major Roman wars of conquest would cease until the
reign of emperor Trajan (reigned 98-117 AD), and with them the supply of
plentiful and inexpensive slaves through military conquest, further promoting
the use of freemen laborers in agricultural estates.
The legal status and rights of the Roman slave also began to
change. During the time of emperor Claudius (reigned 41-54 AD), a constitution
was enacted which made the killing of an old or infirm slave an act of murder,
and decreed that if such slaves were abandoned by their owners, they became
freedmen.[58] Under Antoninus Pius (reigned 138-161 AD), the legal rights of
slaves were further extended, holding owners responsible for the killing of
slaves, forcing the sale of slaves when it could be shown that they were being
mistreated, and providing a (theoretically) neutral third party authority to
which a slave could appeal.[59] While these legal changes occurred much too
late to be direct results of the Third Servile War, they represent the legal
codification of changes in the Roman attitude toward slaves which would have
been evolving for decades.
It is difficult to determine the extent to which the events of
this war contributed to the changes in the use and legal rights of Roman
slaves. It seems that the end of the Servile Wars coincided with the end of the
period of most prominent use of slaves in Rome, and the beginning of a new
perception of the slave within Roman society and law. The Third Servile War was
the last of the Servile Wars, and Rome would not see another slave uprising of
this type again.
References
Books
Classical works:
* Appian, Civil wars,
Penguin Classics; New Ed edition, 1996. ISBN 0-14-044509-9.
* Caesar, Julius,
Commentarii de Bello Gallico.
* Cicero, M. Tullius.
The Orations of Marcus Tullius Cicero, literally translated by C. D. Yonge,
"for Quintius, Sextus Roscius, Quintus Roscius, against Quintus Caecilius,
and against Verres". London. George Bell & Sons. 1903. OCLC: 4709897
* Florus, Publius
Annius, Epitome of Roman History. Harvard University Press, 1984. ISBN
0-674-99254-7
* Frontinus, Sextus
Julius, Stratagems, Loeb edition, 1925 by Charles E. Bennett. ISBN
0-674-99192-3
* Gaius the Jurist,
Gai Institvtionvm Commentarivs Primvs
* Livius,Titus,
This History of Rome
* Livius,Titus,
Periochae, K.G. Saur Verlag, 1981. ISBN 3-519-01489-0
* Orosius, Histories.
* Plutarchus, Mestrius , Plutarch's Lives, "The Life of Crassus"
and "The Life of Pompey". Modern Library, 2001. ISBN 0-375-75677-9.
* Sallust, Histories, P.McGUSHIN (Oxford,1992/1994) ISBN 0-19-872140-4
* Seneca, De
Beneficiis
* Suetonius, Lives of
the Twelve Caesars: The Life of Claudius.
Modern works:
* Bradley, Keith.
Slavery and Rebellion in the Roman World. Bloomington: Indiana University
Press, 1989. ISBN 0-7134-6561-X.
* Broughton, T. Robert
S. Magistrates of the Roman Republic, vol. 2. Cleveland: Case Western
University Press, 1968.
* Davis,William
Stearns ed., Readings in Ancient History: Illustrative Extracts from the
Sources, 2 Vols, Vol. II: Rome and the West. Boston: Allyn and Bacon, 1912-13.
* Matyszak, Philip,
The enemies of Rome, Thames & Hudson, 2004. ISBN 0-500-25124-X.
* Strachan-Davidson,
J. L. (ed.), Appian, Civil Wars: Book I, Oxford University Press, 1902 (repr.
1969).
* Mommsen, Theodor,
The History of Rome, Books I-V, project Gutenburg electronic edition, 2004.
ISBN 0-415-14953-3.
* William Smith,
D.C.L., LL.D., A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, John Murray,
London, 1875.
Multimedia:
* Fagan, Garret G.,
"The History of Ancient Rome: Lecture 23, Sulla's Reforms Undone",
The Teaching Company. [sound recording:CD].
Notes:
* References to the
Mommsen text is based on the Project Gutenburg e-text edition of the books.
References are therefore given in terms of line numbers within the text file,
and not page numbers as would be the case with physical books.
* References to
"classical works" (Livy, Plutarch, Appian, etc.) are given in the
traditional "Book:verse" format, rather than
edition-specific page numbers.
1. ^ Smith, A
Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, "Servus", p. 1038; details
the legal and military means by which people were enslaved.
2. ^ Smith, Greek and
Roman Antiquities, "Servus", p. 1040; Caesar, Commentarii de Bello
Gallico, 2:33. Smith refers to the purchase of 10,000 slaves from Cilician
pirates, while Caesar provides an example of the enslavement of 53,000 captive
Aduatuci by a Roman army.
3. ^ Smith, Greek and
Roman Antiquities, "Servus", p. 1039; Livy, The History of Rome, 6:12
4. ^ Smith, Greek and
Roman Antiquities, "Servus", pp. 1022–39 summarizes the complex body
of Roman law pertaining to the legal status of slaves.
5. ^ Smith, Greek and
Roman Antiquities, "Gladiatores", p. 574.
6. ^ Mommsen, The
History of Rome, 3233-3238.
7. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
8:1-2; Appian, Civil Wars, 1:116; Livy, Periochae, 95:2; Florus, Epitome, 2.8.
Plutarch claims 78 escaped, Livy claims 74, Appian "about seventy",
and Florus says "thirty or rather more men". "Choppers and
spits" is from Life of Crassus.
8. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:116; Plutarch, Crassus, 8:2. Note: Spartacus' status as an auxilia is
taken from the Loeb edition of Appian translated by Horace White, which states
"...who had once served as a soldier with the Romans...". However,
the translation by John Carter in the Penguin Classics version reads:
"...who had once fought against the Romans and after being taken prisoner
and sold...".
9. ^ Smith, Greek and
Roman Antiquities, "Gladiatores", p. 576.
10. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:1.
11. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:116; Florus, Epitome, 2.8; - Florus and Appian make the claim that the
slaves withdrew to Vesuvius, while Plutarch only mentions "a hill" in
the later account of Glaber's siege of the slave's encampment.
12. ^ Note: while there
seems to be consensus as to the general history of the praetorian expeditions,
the names of the commanders and subordinates of these forces varies
widely based on the historical account.
13. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:116.
14. ^ Frontinus,
Stratagems, Book I, 5:20-22 and Book VII:6.
15. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:1-3; Frontinus, Stratagems, Book I, 5:20-22; Appian, Civil Wars, 1:116;
Broughton, Magistrates of the Roman Republic, p. 109. Note: Plutarch and
Frontinus write of expeditions under the command of "Clodius the
praetor" and "Publius Varinus", while Appian writes of
"Varinius Glaber" and "Publius Valerius".
16. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:4-5; Livy, Periochae , 95; Appian, Civil Wars,
1:116; Sallust, Histories, 3:64-67.
17. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:3; Appian, Civil War, 1:116. Livy identifies the second commander as
"Publius Varenus" with the subordinate "Claudius Pulcher".
18. ^ Florus, Epitome,
2.8.
19. ^ Orosius, Histories
5.24.2; Bradley, Slavery and Rebellion, p.96.
20. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:7; Appian, Civil Wars, 1:117.
21. ^ a b Plutarch,
Crassus, 9:5-6.
22. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:117; Florus, Epitome, 2.8.
23. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:116-117; Plutarch, Crassus 9:6; Sallust, Histories, 3:64-67.
24. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:117; Plutarch, Crassus 9:7; Livy, Periochae 96. Livy reports that
troops under the (former) praetor Quintus Arrius killed Crixus and 20,000 of
his followers.
25. ^ a b c Appian,
Civil Wars, 1:117.
26. ^ Appian, Civil war,
1.117; Florus, Epitome, 2.8; Bradley, Slavery and Rebellion, p.121; Smith,
Greek and Roman Antiquities, "Gladiatores", p.574. - Note that
gladiator contests as part of some funeral rituals in the Roman Republic were a
high honor, according to Smith. This accords with Florus' passage "He also
celebrated the obsequies of his officers who had fallen in battle with funerals
like those of Roman generals, and ordered his captives to fight at their
pyres".
27. ^ Appian, Civil war,
1.117; Florus, Epitome, 2.8. Florus does not detail when and how Spartacus
intended to march on Rome, but agrees this was Spartacus' ultimate goal.
28. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:117.
29. ^ a b Plutarch,
Crassus, 9:7.
30. ^ a b c d Plutarch,
Crassus 10:1;.
31. ^ Bradley, Slavery
and Rebellion, p. 96; Plutarch, Crassus 9:7; Livy, Periochae
, 96:6. - Bradley identifies Gaius Cassius Longinus as the governor of
Cisalpine Gaul at the time. Livy also identifies "Caius Cassius" and
mentions his co-commander (or sub-commander?) "Cnaeus Manlius".
32. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
9:5.
33. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:118; Smith, A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities,
"Exercitus", p.494; Appian details the number of legions, while Smith
discusses the size of the legions throughout the Roman civilization, stating
that late republican legions varied from 5,000-6,200 men per legion.
34. ^ a b Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:118.
35. ^ a b c Plutarch,
Crassus, 10:1-3.
36. ^ a b Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:119.
37. ^ Florus, Epitome,
2.8; Cicero, Orations, "For Quintius, Sextus Roscius...", 5.2
38. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
10:4-5.
39. ^ Contrast Plutarch,
Crassus, 11:2 with Appian, Civil Wars, 1:119.
40. ^ Strachan-Davidson
on Appian. 1.120; Appian, Civil Wars, 1:120; Plutarch, Crassus, 11:2.
41. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:120; Plutarch, Crassus, 11:2.
42. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:120;.
43. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:120; Plutarch, Crassus, 10:6. No mention of the fate of the forces who
did not break out of the siege is mentioned, although it is possible that these
were the slaves under command of Gannicus and Castus mentioned later.
44. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
11:3; Livy, Periochae, 97:1. Plutarch gives the figure 12,300 rebels killed.
Livy claims 35,000.
45. ^ Bradley, Slavery
and Rebellion. p. 97; Plutarch, Crassus, 11:4.
46. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
11:5;.
47. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:120; Plutarch, Crassus, 11:6-7; Livy, Periochae, 97.1. Livy claims some
60,000 rebel slaves killed in this final action.
48. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:120; Florus, Epitome, 2.8.
49. ^ Matyszak, The
Enemies of Rome p.133; Plutarch, Pompey, 21:2, Crassus 11.7.
50. ^ Plutarch, Crassus,
11.7.
51. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1.120.
52. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:116.
53. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:121.
54. ^ Appian, Civil
Wars, 1:121; Plutarch, Crassus, 12:2.
55. ^ Fagan, The History
of Ancient Rome; Appian, Civil Wars, 1:121.
56. ^ Davis, Readings in
Ancient History, p.90
57. ^ Smitha, Frank E.
(2006). From a Republic to Emperor Augustus: Spartacus and Declining Slavery.
Retrieved on 2006-09-23.
58. ^ Suetonius, Life of
Claudius, 25.2
59. ^ Gaius,
Institvtionvm Commentarivs, I:52; Seneca, De Beneficiis, III:22. Gaius details
the changes in the right of the owner to inflict whatever treatment they wished
upon the slave, while Seneca details the slave's right to proper treatment and
the creation of a "slave ombudsman".
Appian on Spartacus
Spartacus was the leader of an army of runaway slaves that
infested Italy in 73-71 BCE but was ultimately defeated by the Roman general
Crassus. There are two important sources about this revolt: the story is told
in the Life of Crassus by Plutarch of Chaeronea, and in the Civil wars by
Appian of Alexandria. Both authors lived in the second century CE, but used
older accounts, such as the Histories of Sallust and Livy's History of Rome
from the Foundation.
Here, we find the story by Appian (Civil wars 1.116-120). The
translation was made by John Carter.
In Italy, at this same time, Spartacus, a Thracian who had once
fought against the Romans and after being taken prisoner and sold had become a
gladiator in a troop which was kept to provide entertainments at Capua,
persuaded about seventy of his fellows to risk their lives for freedom rather
than for exhibition as a spectacle. With them, he overpowered their guards and
escaped. Then he equipped himself and his companions with staves and daggers
seized from travelers and took refuge on Mount Vesuvius, where he allowed many
runaway domestic slaves and some free farm hands to join him.
With the gladiators Oenomaus and Crixus as his subordinates he
plundered the nearby areas, and because he divided the spoils in equal shares
his numbers quickly swelled. The first commander sent against him was Varinius
Glaber [1], and the second Publius Valerius [2]; instead of legionary forces
they had anyone they could quickly conscript on the way, because the Romans did
not yet class the affair as a war, but as a kind of raid akin to piracy, and
they were defeated when they attacked him. Spartacus himself actually captured
Varinius' horse from under him; so nearly was a Roman general taken prisoner by
a gladiator. After this, people flocked in still greater numbers to join
Spartacus: his army now numbered 70,000 and he began to manufacture weapons and
gather stores.
The government in Rome now dispatched the consuls with two
legions. Crixus, at the head of 3,000 men, was defeated and killed by one of
them at Mount Garganus, with the loss of two-thirds of his force. Spartacus,
who was eager to go through the Apennines to the Alpine regions, and then to
Celtic lands from the Alps, was intercepted and prevented from escaping by the
other consul, while his colleague conducted the pursuit. But Spartacus turned
on each of them and defeated them separately.
In the aftermath they retreated in confusion, while Spartacus,
first sacrificing 300 Roman prisoners to Crixus, made for Rome with 120,000 foot soldiers after burning the useless equipment
and putting all the prisoners to death and slaughtering the draught animals to
free himself of all encumbrances; and although a large number of deserters
approached him he refused to accept any of them.
When the consuls made another stand in Picenum, there was a
further great struggle and on that occasion also a
great Roman defeat. Spartacus, however, changed his mind about marching on Rome
because he was not yet a match for the defenders and his troops did not all
have soldier's arms and equipment (no town had joined their cause, and they
were all slaves, deserters and human flotsam).
He seized the mountains around Thurii, together with the town
itself, and then prevented traders bringing in gold and silver, barred his own
men from acquiring any, and bought exclusively iron and bronze at good prices
without harming those who brought them. As a result
they had plenty of raw material and were well equipped and made frequent
raiding expeditions. They again confronted the Romans in battle, defeated them,
and on that occasion too returned to camp laden with booty.
The war had now lasted three years and was causing the Romans
great concern, although at the beginning it had been laughed-at and regarded as
trivial because it was against gladiators. When the appointment of other
generals was proposed there was universal reluctance to stand, and no one put
himself forward until Licinius Crassus, distinguished both for his family and
his wealth, undertook to assume the post, and led six legions against
Spartacus. To these he added the two consular legions when he reached the
front.
Crassus
He immediately punished the latter for their repeated defeats,
making them draw lots for every tenth man to be put to death [3]. According to
some, this was not what happened; instead, when he himself had suffered defeat
after engaging the enemy with his whole force he had them all draw lots for the
tenth place and put to death up to 4,000 men without being in the least
deterred by their numbers. Whatever the truth, he established himself in the
eyes of his men as more to be feared than a defeat at the hands of the enemy,
and forthwith won a victory over 10,000 of Spartacus' men who were encamped
separately somewhere. He killed two thirds of them and marched confidently
against Spartacus himself.
After winning a brilliant
victory, Crassus pursued Spartacus as he fled towards the sea with the
intention of sailing across to Sicily, overtook him, and walled him in with
ditches, earthworks, and palisades. Spartacus then tried to force his way out
and reach the Samnite country, but Crassus killed almost 6,000 of his opponents
at the beginning of the day and nearly as many more at evening, at the cost of
three dead and seven wounded from the Roman army; so effective had their
punishment been in altering their will to win.
Spartacus, who was waiting for some cavalry that were on their
way to him, no longer went into battle with his full force, but conducted many
separate harassing operations against his besiegers; he made sudden and
repeated sorties against them, set fire to bundles of wood which he had thrown
into the ditches, and made their work difficult. He crucified a Roman prisoner
in no-man's land to demonstrate to his own troops the fate awaiting them if
they were defeated.
When the government at Rome heard of the siege and contemplated
the dishonor they would incur from a protracted war with gladiators, they
appointed Pompey, who had recently arrived from Hispania, to an additional
command in the field, in the belief that the task of dealing with Spartacus was
now substantial and difficult. As a result of this appointment Crassus pressed
on urgently with every means of attacking Spartacus, to stop Pompey stealing
his glory, while Spartacus, thinking to forestall Pompey, invited Crassus to
negotiate.
When Crassus spurned the offer, Spartacus decided to make a
desperate attempt, and with the cavalry which had by now arrived forced a way
through the encircling fortifications with his whole army and retired towards
Brundisium, with Crassus in pursuit. But when he discovered that Lucullus, who
was on his way back from his victory over Mithridates [4], was there, he
despaired of everything and, at the head of a still large force, joined battle
with Crassus. The fight was long, and bitterly contested, since so many tens of
thousands of men had no other hope.
Spartacus himself was wounded by a spear-thrust in the thigh,
but went down on one knee, held his shield in front of him, and fought off his
attackers until he and a great number of his followers were encircled and fell.
The rest of his army was already in disorder and was cut down in huge numbers; consequently their losses were not easy to estimate (though
the Romans lost about 1,000 men), and Spartacus' body was never found.
Since there was still a very
large number of fugitives from the battle in the mountains, Crassus proceeded
against them. They formed themselves into four groups and kept up their
resistance until there were only 6,000 survivors, who were taken prisoner and
crucified all the way along the road from Rome to Capua.
Notes
[1]
The first army was commanded by Gaius Claudius Glaber, and the
second one by Publius Varinius. Appian combines these names.
[2]
This man never existed. The commander of the second army was
called Publius Varinius.
[3]
This punishment was called decimation.
[4]
An error. Lucullus was the Roman general fighting in the east
against Mithradates. In fact, another Lucullus fought against Spartacus.
Florus on Spartacus
Spartacus was the leader of an army of runaway slaves that
infested Italy in 73-71 BCE but was ultimately defeated by the Roman general
Crassus. There are two important sources about this revolt: the story is told
in the Life of Crassus by Plutarch of Chaeronea, and in the Civil wars by
Appian of Alexandria.
A third account is that of Publius Annius Florus, the author of
an epitome of the History of Rome since its foundation of the great Roman
historian Livy. Here, we find his story (Epitome 2.8) in the translation by
Edward Forster.
Spartacus, Crixus and Oenomaus, breaking out of the gladiatorial
school of Lentulus with thirty or rather more men [1] of the same occupation,
escaped from Capua. When, by summoning the slaves to their standard, they had
quickly collected more than 10,000 adherents, these men, who had been
originally content merely to have escaped, soon began to wish to take their
revenge also.
The first position which attracted them (a suitable one for such
ravening monsters) was Mt. Vesuvius. Being besieged here by Clodius Glabrus
[2], they slid by means of ropes made of vine-twigs through a passage in the
hollow of the mountain down into its very depths, and issuing forth by a hidden
exit, seized the camp of he general by a sudden attack which he never expected.
They then attacked other camps, that of Varenius [3] and afterwards that of
Thoranus [4]; and they ranged over the whole of Campania. Not content with the
plundering of country houses and villages, they laid waste Nola, Nuceria,
Thurii and Metapontum with terrible destruction.
Becoming a regular army by the daily arrival of fresh forces,
they made themselves rude shields of wicker-work and the skins of animals, and
swords and other weapons by melting down the iron in the slave-prisons. That
nothing might be lacking which was proper to a regular army, cavalry was
procured by breaking in herds of horses which they encountered, and his men
brought to their leader the insignia and fasces captured from the praetors, nor
were they refused by the man who, from being a Thracian mercenary, had become a
soldier, and from a soldier a deserter, then a highwayman, and finally, thanks
to his strength, a gladiator.
He also celebrated the obsequies of his officers who had fallen
in battle with funerals like those of Roman generals, and ordered his captives
to fight at their pyres, just as though he wished to wipe out all his past
dishonor by having become, instead of a gladiator, a giver of gladiatorial
shows.
Next, actually attacking generals of consular rank, he inflicted
defeat on the army of Lentulus [5] in the Apennines and destroyed the camp of
Gaius Cassius at Mutina [6]. Elated by these victories he entertained the
project -in itself a sufficient disgrace to us- of attacking the city of Rome.
At last a combined effort was made,
supported by all the resources of the empire, against this gladiator, and
Licinius Crassus [7] vindicated the honor of Rome. Routed and put to fight by
him, our enemies -I am ashamed to give them this title- took refuge in the
furthest extremities of Italy. Here, being cut off in the angle of Bruttium and
preparing to escape to Sicily, but being unable to obtain ships, they tried to
launch rafts of beams and casks bound together with withies on the swift waters
of the straits.[8]
Failing in this attempt, they finally made a sally and met a
death worthy of men, fighting to the death as became those who were commanded
by a gladiator. Spartacus himself fell, as became a general, fighting most
bravely in the front rank.
Notes
[1]
According to Appian and Plutarch about seventy.
[2]
The full name of this praetor was Gaius Claudius Glaber.
[3]
A praetor who was sent after the defeat Claudius Glaber.
[4]
Not known from other sources.
[5]
Gnaeus Cornelius Lentulus Clodianus, consul in 72.
[6]
Gaius Cassius Longinus, the governor of Gallia Cisalpina.
[7]
Marcus Licinius Crassus was praetor in 72.
[8]
Near Messina.
Plutarch on Spartacus
Spartacus was the leader of an army of runaway slaves that
infested Italy in 73-71 BCE but was ultimately defeated by the Roman general
Crassus. There are two important sources about this revolt: the story is told
in the Life of Crassus by Plutarch of Chaeronea, and in the Civil wars by
Appian of Alexandria. Both authors lived in the second century CE, but used
older accounts, such as the Histories of Sallust and Livy's History of Rome
from the Foundation.
Here, we find the story by Plutarch of Chaeronea (Life of
Crassus 8-11). The translation was made by Rex Warner.
The rising of the gladiators and their devastation of Italy,
which is generally known as the war of Spartacus, began as follows.
A man called Lentulus Batiatus had an establishment for
gladiators at Capua. Most of them were Gauls and Thracians. They had done
nothing wrong, but, simply because of the cruelty of their owner, were kept in
close confinement until the time came for them to engage in combat. Two hundred
of them planned to escape, but their plan was betrayed and only seventy-eight,
who realized this, managed to act in time and get away, armed with choppers and
spits which they seized from some cookhouse. On the road they came across some
wagons which were carrying arms for gladiators to another city, and they took
these arms for their own use.
They then occupied a strong position [1] and elected three
leaders. The first of these was Spartacus [2]. He was a Thracian from the
nomadic tribes and not only had a great spirit and great physical strength, but
was, much more than one would expect from his condition, most intelligent and
cultured, being more like a Greek than a Thracian [3]. They say that when he
was first taken to Rome to be sold, a snake was seen coiled round his head
while he was asleep and his wife, who came from the same tribe and was a
prophetess subject to possession by the frenzy of [the god of ecstasy]
Dionysus, declared that this sign meant that he would have a great and terrible
power which would end in misfortune. This woman shared in his escape and was
then living with him.
First, then, the gladiators repulsed those who came out against
them from Capua. In this engagement they got hold of proper arms and gladly
took them in exchange for their own gladiatorial equipment which they threw
away, as being barbarous and dishonorable weapons to use.
Then the praetor Clodius [4], with 3,000 soldiers, was sent out
against them from Rome. He laid siege to them in a position which they took up
on a hill. There was only one way up this hill, and that was a narrow and
difficult one, and was closely guarded by Clodius; in every other direction
there was nothing but sheer precipitous cliffs. The top of the hill, however,
was covered with wild vines and from these they cut off all the branches that
they needed, and then twisted them into strong ladders which were long enough
to reach from the top, where they were fastened, right down the cliff face to
the plain below. They all got down safely by means of these ladders except for
one man who stayed at the top to deal with their arms, and he, once the rest
had got down, began to drop the arms down to them, and, when he had finished
his task, descended last and reached the plain in safety. The Romans knew
nothing of all this, and so the gladiators were able to get round behind them
and to throw them into confusion by the unexpectedness of the attack, first
routing them and then capturing their camp.
And now they were joined by numbers of herdsmen and shepherds of
those parts, all sturdy men and fast on their feet. Some of these they armed as
regular infantrymen and made use of others as scouts and light troops.
The second expedition against them was led by the praetor
Publius Varinus [5]. First they engaged and routed a
force of 2,000 men under his deputy commander, Furius by name, then came the
turn
of Cossinius, who had been sent out with a large force to advise
Varinus and to share with him the responsibility of the command. Spartacus
watched his movements closely and very nearly captured him as he was bathing
near Salinae. He only just managed to escape, and Spartacus immediately seized
all his baggage and then pressed on hard after, him and captured his camp.
There was a great slaughter and Cossinius was among those who fell. Next
Spartacus defeated the praetor himself in a number of engagements and finally
captured his lictors and the very horse that he rode.
By this time Spartacus had grown to be a great and formidable
power, but he showed no signs of losing his head. He could not expect to prove
superior to the whole power of Rome, and so he began to lead his army towards
the Alps. His view was that they should cross the mountains and then disperse
to their own homes, some to Thrace and some to Gaul. His men, however, would
not listen to him. They were strong in numbers and full of confidence, and they
went about Italy ravaging everything in their way.
There was now more to disturb the Senate than just the shame and
the disgrace of the revolt. The situation had become dangerous enough to
inspire real fear, and as a result both consuls [6] were sent out to deal with
what was considered a major war and a most difficult one to fight. One of the
consuls, Gellius, fell suddenly upon and entirely destroyed the German
contingent of Spartacus' troops, who in their insolent self-confidence had
marched off on their own and lost contact with the rest; but when Lentulus, the
other consul, had surrounded the enemy with large forces, Spartacus turned to
the attack, joined battle, defeated the generals of Lentulus and captured all
their equipment.
He then pushed on towards the Alps and was confronted by
Cassius, the governor of Cisalpine Gaul, with an army of 10,000 men. In the
battle that followed Cassius was defeated and, after losing many of his men,
only just managed to escape with his own life.
This news roused the Senate to anger. The consuls were told to
return to civilian life, and Crassus [7] was appointed to the supreme command
of the war. Because of his reputation or because of their friendship with him
large numbers of the nobility volunteered to serve with him.
Spartacus was now bearing down on Picenum, and Crassus himself
took up a position on the borders of the district with the intention of meeting
the attack there. He ordered one of his subordinate commanders, Mummius, with
two legions to march round by another route and instructed him to follow the
enemy, but not to join battle with them or even to do any skirmishing. Mummius,
however, as soon as he saw what appeared to him a good opportunity, offered
battle and was defeated. Many of his men were killed and many saved their lives
by throwing away their arms and running for it. Crassus gave Mummius himself a
very rough reception after this.
He re-armed his soldiers and made them give guarantees that in
future they would preserve the arms in their possession. Then he took 500 of
those who had been the first to fly and had shown themselves the greatest
cowards, and, dividing them into fifty squads of ten men each, put to death one
man, chosen by lot, from each squad. This was a traditional method of punishing
soldiers, now revived by Crassus after having been out of use for many years
[8]. Those who are punished in this way not only lose their lives but are also
disgraced, since the whole army are there as spectators, and the actual
circumstances of the execution are very savage and repulsive.
After employing this method of conversion on his men, Crassus
led them against the enemy. But Spartacus slipped away from him and marched
through Lucania to the sea. At the Straits [9] he fell in with some pirate
ships from Cilicia and formed the plan of landing 2,000 men in Sicily and
seizing the island; he would be able, he thought, to start another revolt of
the slaves there, since the previous slave war had recently died down and only
needed a little fuel to make it blaze out again [10]. However, the Cilicians,
after agreeing to his proposals and receiving gifts from him, failed to keep
their promises and sailed off.
So Spartacus marched back again from the sea and established his
army in the peninsula of Rhegium. At this point Crassus came up. His
observation of the place made him see what should be done, and he began to
build fortifications right across the isthmus. In this way he was able at the
same time to keep his own soldiers busy and to deprive the enemy of supplies.
The task which he had set himself was neither easy nor inconsiderable, but he
finished it and, contrary to all expectation, had it done in a very short time.
A ditch, nearly sixty kilometers long and five meters wide, was carried across
the neck of land from sea to sea; and above the ditch he constructed a wall
which was astonishingly high and strong.
At first Spartacus despised these fortifications and did not
take them seriously; but soon he found himself short of plunder and, when he
wanted to break out from the peninsula, he realized that he was walled in and
could get no more supplies where he was. So he waited
for a night when it was snowing and a wintry storm had got up, and then, after
filling up a small section of the ditch with earth and timber and branches of
trees, managed to get a third of his army across.
Crassus was now alarmed, thinking that Spartacus might conceive
the idea of marching directly on Rome. But he was relieved from his anxiety
when he saw that, as the result of some disagreement, many of Spartacus' men
had left him and were encamped as an independent force by themselves near a
lake in Lucania [...]. Crassus fell upon this division of the enemy and
dislodged them from their positions by the lake, but at this point Spartacus
suddenly appeared and stopped their flight, so that he was prevented from
following them up and slaughtering them.
Crassus now regretted that he had previously written to the
Senate to ask them to send for Lucullus from Thrace and Pompey from Hispania
[11]. He made all the haste he could to finish the war before these generals
arrived, knowing that the credit for the success would be likely to go not to
himself but to the commander who appeared on the scene with reinforcements.
In the first place, then, he decided to attack the enemy force
under Gaius Canicius and Castus, who had separated themselves from the rest and
were operating on their own. With this intention he sent out 6,000 men to
occupy some high ground before the enemy could do so and he told them to try to
do this without being observed. They, however, though they attempted to elude
observation by covering up their helmets, were seen by two women who were
sacrificing for the enemy, and they would have been in great danger if Crassus
had not quickly brought up the rest of his forces and joined battle. This was
the most stubbornly contested battle of all. In it
Crassus' troops killed 12,300 men, but he only found two of them who were
wounded in the back. All the rest died standing in the ranks and fighting back
against the Romans.
After this force had been defeated, Spartacus retired to the
mountains of Petelia. One of Crassus' officers called Quintus, and the quaestor
Scrophas [12] followed closely in his tracks. But when Spartacus turned on his
pursuers, the Romans were entirely routed and they only just managed to drag
the quaestor, who had been wounded, into safety. This success turned out to be
the undoing of Spartacus, since it filled his slaves with over-confidence. They
refused any longer to avoid battle and would not even obey their officers. Instead they surrounded them with arms in their hands as
soon as they began to march and forced them to lead them back through Lucania
against the Romans.
This was precisely what Crassus most wanted them to do. It had
already been reported that Pompey was on his way, and in fact a number of
people were already loudly proclaiming that the victory in this war belonged to
him; it only remained for him to come and fight a battle, they said, and the
war would be over. Crassus, therefore, was very eager to fight the decisive
engagement himself and he camped close by the enemy. Here, as his men were
digging a trench, the slaves came out, jumped into the trench and began to
fight with those who were digging. More men from both sides kept on coming up,
and Spartacus, realizing that he had no alternative, drew up his whole army in
order of battle.
First, when his horse was brought to him, he drew his sword and
killed it, saying that the enemy had plenty of good horses which would be his
if he won, and, if he lost, he would not need a horse at all. Then he made
straight for Crassus himself, charging forward through the press of weapons and
wounded men, and, though he did not reach Crassus, he cut down two centurions
who fell on him together. Finally, when his own men had taken to flight, he
himself, surrounded by enemies, still stood his ground and died fighting to the
last.
Crassus had had good fortune, had shown excellent generalship,
and had risked his own life in the fighting; nevertheless
the success of Crassus served to increase the fame of Pompey. The fugitives
from the battle fell in with Pompey's troops and were destroyed, so that
Pompey, in his dispatch to the senate, was able to say that, while Crassus
certainly had conquered the slaves in open battle, he himself had dug the war
up by the roots. Pompey then celebrated a magnificent triumph for his victories
against Sertorius and for the war in Hispania, [11] while Crassus, much as he
may have wanted to do so, did not venture to ask for a proper triumph; indeed
it was thought that he acted rather meanly and discreditably when he accepted,
for a war fought against slaves, the minor honor of a procession on foot,
called the 'ovation'.
Notes
[1]
According to Appian of Alexandria, the Vesuvius.
[2]
The others were Oenomaus and Crixus.
[3]
This last remark is a well-known cliché from ancient literature.
Any non-Greek/Roman who had done something special, was said to be more
intelligent than other barbarians. The same is said about Arminius (who
destroyed three Roman legions in the battle in the Teutoburg Forest [September
9 CE]) and Julius Civilius (the leader of the Batavian revolt).
[4]
His full name was Gaius Claudius Glaber.
[5]
We are still in the year 73.
[6]
Lucius Gellius Publicola and Gnaeus Cornelius Lentulus
Clodianus, consuls in 72.
[7]
Marcus Licinius Crassus was praetor in 72.
[8]
This type of punishment was known as decimation.
[9]
Near Messina.
[10]
In the second and first centuries, there were several slave wars
on Sicily. Time and again, the slaves on Sicily had revolted, once crowning a
king of their own.
[11]
Pompey had been fighting against Sertorius in Hispania and had
recently finished the war. He was now on his way back home.
[12]
Their full names are Quintus Marcius Rufus and Gnaeus Tremellius
Scrofa.
0401Julius Caesar.doc
Julius
Caesar (1953 film)
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Original movie poster for Julius Caesar
Directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz
Cinematography
by Joseph Ruttenberg
Editing
by John Dunning
Distributed
by MGM
Release
date: June 4, 1953 (USA)
Running
time: 121 min.
Country:
USA
Language:
English
Julius Caesar is a 1953 film adaptation of the Shakespeare play
Julius Caesar. It was made by MGM, directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, who also
wrote the uncredited screenplay, and produced by John Houseman. The original
music score was by Miklós Rózsa.
It stars Marlon Brando as Marc Antony, James Mason as Brutus,
John Gielgud as Cassius, Louis Calhern as Julius Caesar, Edmond O'Brien as
Casca, Greer Garson as Calpurnia, and Deborah Kerr as Portia.
Awards and nominations:
The film won the Academy Award for Best Art Direction, and was
nominated for Best Actor in a Leading Role (Marlon Brando), Best
Cinematography, Black-and-White, Best Music, Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy
Picture and Best Picture.
It also won two BAFTA awards for Best British Actor (John
Gielgud) and Best Foreign Actor (Marlon Brando). It was also nominated in the
Best Film category.
Trivia:
·
Julius Caesar represents the third time in three consecutive
years that Brando was nominated for the Best Actor Award. He was nominated in
1951 for A Streetcar Named
Desire and in 1952 for Viva Zapata!.
·
Brando won the BAFTA Best Actor award in three consecutive years
for Viva Zapata! (1952), Julius Caesar (1953), and On the Waterfront (1954).
·
John Gielgud, who plays Cassius in this version, played the
title role in the 1970 film with Charlton Heston, Jason Robards and Richard
Johnson (as Cassius)
·
John Houseman, who had produced the famous 1937 Broadway version
of the play starring Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre, also produced the
MGM film. By this time, however, Welles and Houseman had had a falling out, and
Welles had nothing to do with the 1953 film.
·
John Hoyt, who plays Decius Brutus, also played him in the 1937
stage version.
·
Marlon Brando listened to old records of John Barrymore reciting
Shakespeare in preparation for his role as Marc Antony.
N.Y. TIMES REVIEW
Julius
Caesar' and Two Other Arrivals; Shakespeare Tragedy,
Filmed
by M-G-M With a Notable Cast, Unfolds at Booth
By BOSLEY CROWTHER (Published June 5, 1953)
William Shakespeare's "Julius Caesar," most familiar,
perhaps, of all the plays that poured in great floods of noble rhetoric from
the pen of the immortal Bard, has been put on the screen by Joseph L.
Mankiewicz and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer in a production that smites the eye with
violence and rings with the clang of metal words. Considering the vast amount
of talking and the patchiness of action in the play, it is a production that
pulls the full potential of point and passion from this classic of the stage.
Actually, Shakespeare wrote this drama to be observed within the
confines of a fairly modest theatre and to be absorbed in large measure through
the ear which, of course, was the physical necessity with all of his eloquent
plays. And thus, any faithful translation from the written text to the screen
must perforce be confined and conditioned by the exigencies of the play. It is
much to Mr. Mankiewicz's credit that he had captured his characters at close
range and staged the whole drama, with few elisions, from an intimate point of
view.
Blessed with a cast of actors that conspicuously includes John
Gielgud. as the lean and hungry Cassius; Marlon Brando, as Mark Antony; James
Mason, as the conscientious Brutus, and Louis Calhern, as Caesar, who is slain.
Mr. Mankiewicz has got most of his impact out of the words that surge hotly
from their throats and from the subtleties of their expressions and the
violence of their attitudes.
The occurrence of physical action, though almost entirely
confined to the actual assassination of Caesar and the briefly played battle of
Philippi, seems strangely to run through the picture with the characters' every
word and move. The vibrant illusion of mighty doings flows strongly from the
screen of the Booth [theater].
Through no fault, of course, of the director or of John
Houseman, who produced, the script for this admirable effort does contain some
embarrassing flaws. Breathes there a high school junior who doesn't know that
the high point of the play is Mark Antony's stirring oration over the body of
his friend? With Mr. Brando delivering this oration in a brilliant,
electrifying splurge of bitter and passionate invective about two-thirds of the
way through the film, the remaining decline and fall of Brutus and Cassius seem
spiritless and drab. If ever there was an anti-climax in a film (or a play), it
is here.
Also, the cavalier fashion in which Shakespeare introduced and
tossed aside the wives of poor Caesar and Brutus brings a minor irritation to
the film. Somehow, one feels that Greer Garson, as Calpurnia, great Caesar's
wife, and Deborah Kerr, as the loyal spouse of Brutus, go too swiftly and sadly
down the drain.
However, it is true that "Julius Caesar" is
essentially a drama of men caught in the complex dilemma of political power and
tyranny. And it is in the illumination of the thoughts and the characters of
men entangled and absorbed in this dilemma that this eloquent picture excels.
It is no slight at all to anybody to say that Britain's Mr.
Gielgud gives by far the most rounded and subtle performance in the film. His
Cassius is desperate, sarcastic, perceptive and intense, the quintessence of
the feverish rebelliousness that Shakespeare put into words. But then, of
course, this Cassius is the most clever realist in the
play. If Brutus had followed his urgings, the show would have been over in Act
3.
Next to Mr. Gielgud's Cassius, the delight and surprise of the
film is Mr. Brando's Mark Antony, which is something memorable to see. Athletic
and bullet-headed, he looks the realest Roman of them all and possesses the
fire of hot convictions and the firm elasticity of steel. Happily, Mr. Brando's
diction, which has been guttural and slurred in previous films, is clear and
precise in this instance. In him a major talent has emerged.
As for the Brutus of Mr. Mason, it has depth and authority, but
lacks that one final bond of candor that would attract the full sympathy he
deserves. Mr. Calhern's Caesar is puffed and pompous, the Casca of Edmund
O'Brien is glib and tough, and a dozen or so other actors are easy and sure in
lesser roles.
The wide screen upon which the picture is projected twice a day
at the Booth enhances somewhat its scenic grandeur, but exaggerates the size of
its close views. Pan shots are blurred in many instances, and some slight
distortion does occur for those who happen to be seated forward of the middle
of the house. The stereophonic sound is an improvement, especially for a short
symphonic film wherein the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer symphonic orchestra plays
Tchaikowsky's "Capriecio Italien." This comes as a suitable introduction
to a stirring and memorable film.
JULIUS CAESAR, the play by William Shakespeare; directed by
Joseph L. Mankiewicz; produced by John Houseman for Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. At the
Booth Theatre.
CAST:
Julius Caesar - Louis Calhern, Mark Antony - Marion Brando, Brutus - James Mason, Cassius - John Gielgud, Casca - Edmond O'Brien, Calpurnia - Greer Garson Portia - Deborah Kerr, Marulius - George Macready, Flavius - Michael Pate, A soothsayer - Richard Hale, Cicero - Alan Napier, Decius Brutus - John Hoyt, Metellus Cimber - Tom Powers, Cinna - William Cottrell, Trebomus - Jack Raine, Ligartus - Iam Wolfe, Artimidorus - Morgan Farley, Servant to Anthony - Bill Phipps
From
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The Tragedy of Julius Caesar is a play
by William
Shakespeare probably written in 1599. It portrays the conspiracy
against the Roman
dictator, Julius Caesar, his
assassination and its aftermath. It is the first of his Roman plays and is
based on true events from Roman history.
Caesar
is not the central character in the action of the play, appearing in only three
scenes and dying at the beginning of the third Act. The central protagonist of the play is
Brutus
and the central psychological drama is his struggle between the conflicting
demands of honour,
patriotism, and friendship.
Most
Shakespeare critics and historians agree that the play reflected the general
anxiety of England
due to worries over succession of leadership. At the time of its creation and
first performance, Queen Elizabeth,
a strong ruler, was elderly and had refused to name a successor, leading to
worries that a civil war
similar to that of Rome's might break out after her death.
Date of the play
Allusions
in three contemporaneous works support a date of 1599 for Julius Caesar.[1]
1) Ben Jonson's play Every Man Out of
His Humour (acted 1599, published 1600) paraphrases Shakespeare's
line "O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts" (Julius Caesar, III,ii,104) as "reason long since is fled to
animals" in III,i. Jonson's play also includes
"Et tu, Brute" in V,iv.
2) The
anonymous play The Wisdom of Dr. Dodipoll (published in 1600) gives its own
paraphrase, "Then reason's fled to animals, I see."
3) A
passage in John Weever's
Mirror of Martyrs, published in 1601,
makes clear reference to the speeches of Brutus
and Mark Antony in Julius
Caesar. John Weever stated that he'd written his poem two years earlier, which
(presumably) fixes the date as 1599.
Performance
history
Thomas
Patter, a Swiss traveller, saw a
tragedy about Julius Caesar
at a Bankside theatre on September 21, 1599. This was most likely Shakespeare's
play. There is no immediately obvious alternative candidate. (While the story
of Julius Caesar was dramatized repeatedly in the Elizabethan/Jacobean period,
none of the other plays known is as good a match with Patter's description as
Shakespeare's play.)[2]
After
the theatres re-opened at the start of the Restoration era,
the play was revived by Thomas Killigrew's
King's Company in 1672. Charles Hart
initially played Brutus, as did Thomas Betterton in later
productions. Julius Caesar was one of the very few Shakespearean plays that was
not adapted during the Restoration period or the eighteenth century.[3]
Text of
the play: Julius Caesar was first
published in the First Folio
in 1623, that text being the
sole authority
for the play. The Folio text is notable for its quality and consistency;
scholars judge it to have been set into type from a theatrical promptbook. The
play's source was Sir Thomas
North's translation of Plutarch's Life of Brutus
and Life of Caesar.
The
plot
Marcus Brutus
is Caesar's close friend; his ancestors were famed for driving the tyrannical King Tarquin
from Rome (described in Shakespeare's earlier The Rape of Lucrece).
Brutus allows himself to be cajoled into joining a group of conspiring senators because of a
growing suspicion—implanted by Gaius Cassius—that
Caesar intends to turn republican Rome into a monarchy under his own
rule. Traditional readings of the play maintain that Cassius and the other
conspirators are motivated largely by envy and ambition, whereas Brutus
is motivated by the demands of honour
and patriotism; other
commentators, such as Isaac Asimov,
suggest that the text shows Brutus is no less moved by envy and flattery.[4]
One of the central strengths of the play is that it resists categorising its
characters as either simple heroes or villains.
The
early scenes deal mainly with Brutus's arguments with Cassius and his struggle
with his own conscience.
The growing tide of public support soon turns Brutus against Caesar (This
public support was actually faked. Cassius wrote letters in different
handwritings over the next month and hid them in different places for Brutus to
find in order to get Brutus to join the conspiracy). A soothsayer warns Caesar
to "beware the Ides of March,"
which he ignores, culminating in his assassination at the Capitol by the
conspirators that day.
Caesar's
assassination is perhaps the most famous part of the play. After ignoring the
soothsayer as well as his wife's own premonitions, Caesar is caught at the
senate at the mercy of the conspirators. After a few words exchanged, Casca
stabs Caesar in the back of his neck, and the others follow in stabbing him;
Brutus is last. At this point, Caesar utters the famous line "Et tu, Brute?"
("And you, Brutus?", i.e., "You too, Brutus?"). Shakespeare
has him add, "Then fall, Caesar," suggesting that Caesar did not want
to survive such treachery. The conspirators make clear that they did this act
for Rome, not for their own purposes.
After
Caesar's death, however, Mark Antony,
with a subtle and eloquent speech over Caesar's corpse -- the much-quoted Friends, Romans,
countrymen, lend me your ears... -- deftly turns public opinion against the
assassins by manipulating the emotions of the common people, in contrast
to the rational tone of Brutus's speech. Antony rouses the mob to drive the
conspirators from Rome.
The
beginning of Act Four is marked by the quarrel scene, where Brutus attacks
Cassius for soiling the noble act of regicide by accepting
bribes ("Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? / What villain
touch'd his body, that did stab, / And not for justice?", IV.iii,19-21).
The two are reconciled, but as they prepare for war with Mark Antony and
Caesar's great-nephew, Octavian
(Shakespeare's spelling: Octavius), Caesar's ghost appears to Brutus with a
warning of defeat ("thou shalt see me at Philippi", IV.iii,283).
Events go badly for the conspirators during the battle; both Brutus and Cassius
choose to commit suicide rather than to be captured. The play ends with a
tribute to Brutus, who has remained "the noblest Roman of them all"
(V.v,68) and hints at the friction between Mark Antony and Octavian which will
characterize another of Shakespeare's Roman plays, Antony and
Cleopatra.
Deviations
From Plutarch
Shakespeare makes Caesar's triumph take
place on the day of lupercalia
instead of six months earlier
For
greater Dramatic effect he has made the Capitol the venue of
Caesar's death and not the Curia Pompeiana (A meeting hall at the rear of the
courtyard behind Pompey's theater in the Campus Martius).
Caesar's murder, the
funeral, Antony's
oration, the reading of the will, and Octavius' arrival all take
place on the same day in the play. However, historically, the assassination
took place on March 15
(The ides of March), the will was published three days later on March 18, the funeral took
place on March 20
and Octavius
arrived only in May.
Shakespeare makes
the Triumvirs
meet in Rome instead of near Bolonia,
so as to avoid a third locale.
He has
combined the two Battles of
Phillipi although there was a twenty day
interval between them.
Shakespeare
gives Caesar's last words as "Et tu, Brute? Then fall,
Caesar." ("And you, Brutus? Then fall, Caesar."). Plutarch says he said
nothing, pulling his toga over his head when he saw Brutus among the
conspirators.[5].
However, Suetonius
reports his last words, spoken in Greek "
(transliterated as) "Kai su, teknon?" = "You too, child?"
in English.[6]
Shakespeare
deviated from these historical facts in order to curtail time and compress the
facts so that the play could be staged without any kind of difficulty. The
tragic force is condensed into a few scenes for the heightened effect.
Notable
stage productions
·
1926: By far the most elaborate
performance of the play was staged as a benefit for the Actors' Fund of
America at the Hollywood Bowl.
Caesar arrived for the Lupercal
in a chariot drawn by four white horses. The stage was the size of a city block
and dominated by a central tower eighty feet in height. The event was mainly
aimed at creating work for unemployed
actors. Three hundred gladiators
appeared in an arena scene not featured in Shakespeare's play; a similar number
of girls danced as Caesar's captives; a total of three thousand soldiers took
part in the battle sequences.
1937:
Orson Welles' famous
production at the Mercury Theatre
drew fervored comment as the director dressed his protagonists in uniforms
reminiscent of those common at the time in Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany, as well as
drawing a specific analogy between Caesar and Mussolini. Opinions vary
on the artistic value of the resulting production: some see Welles' mercilessly
pared-down script (the running time was around 90 minutes without an interval,
several characters were eliminated, dialogue was moved around and borrowed from
other plays, and the final two acts were reduced to a single scene) as a
radical and innovative way of cutting away the unnecessary elements of
Shakespeare's tale; others thought Welles' version was a mangled and
lobotomised version of Shakespeare's tragedy which lacked the psychological
depth of the original. Most agreed that the production owed more to Welles than
it did to Shakespeare. However, Welles's innovations have been echoed in many
subsequent modern productions, which have seen parallels between Caesar's fall
and the downfalls of various governments in the twentieth century. The
production was most noted for its portrayal of the slaughter of Cinna (Norman Lloyd).
Parodies
The Canadian comedy duo Wayne and Shuster parodied
Julius Caesar in their 1958
sketch Rinse the Blood off My Toga. Flavius Maximus, Private Roman I, is hired
by Brutus to investigate the death of Caesar. The police procedural combines
Shakespeare, Dragnet,
and vaudeville jokes and was first broadcast on the Ed Sullivan Show. [1]
Notes
1. F. E. Halliday, Shakespeare Companion, pp.
159, 260, 524, 533.
2. Richard Edes's Latin play Caesar Interfectus
(1582?) would not qualify. The Admiral's Men had an
anonymous Caesar and Pompey in their repertory in 1594–5, and another play,
Caesar's Fall, or the Two Shapes, written by Thomas Dekker, Michael Drayton, Thomas Middleton, Anthony Munday, and John Webster, in 1601-2,
too late for Patter's reference. Neither play has survived. The anonymous
Caesar's Revenge dates to 1606, while George Chapman's Caesar
and Pompey dates from ca. 1613. E. K. Chambers, Elizabethan Stage, Vol. 2, p.
179; Vol. 3, pp. 259, 309; Vol. 4, p. 4.
3.
Halliday, p. 261.
4. Asimov's Guide
to Shakespeare, Vols. I and II (1970), ISBN
0-517-26825-6, 1970
5.
Plutarch, Caesar 66.9
6.
Suetonius, Julius 82.2
References
Chambers, E. K.
The Elizabethan Stage. 4 Volumes, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1923.
Halliday, F. E. A Shakespeare Companion 1564–1964. Balyimore,
Penguin, 1964.
How did Shakespeare know about Julius Caesar?
The Parallel Lives of Plutarch (Greek, AD 46
– 119) compares the lives of important Greeks with those of Important
Romans. Plutarch's book was translated
by Sir Thomas North in 1579, and this
translation was Shakespeare's source for his Roman plays: Shakespeare used full
passages making only minor changes that would suit his story line and give a
more dramatic effect.
In Julius Caesar, Shakespeare took the following plots or events almost
without change from North's translation of Plutarch:
Act I
Scene ii
The
Celebration of the feast of Lupercal.
Offering
of crown to Julius Caesar by Mark Anthony, which Caesar refused to accept.
Suspicion
in the mind of Caesar about Cassius.
Act II
Scene iii
Artemidorus
giving Caesar a letter of warning.
Act III
Scene i
Assassination
of Julius Caesar.
Oration
of Brutus in the market place.
Cassius
opposed to the idea of Brutus of giving Cassius a chance to speak at the
Caesar's funeral.
Act III
Scene ii
Antony's
funeral speech and, afterward, the riot by the Roman people.
The
escape of the conspirators.
Act III
Scene iii
Mistaken
murder of the poet Cinna by the angry Roman mob.
Act IV
Scene iii
Cassius's
meeting with Brutus and his accusation.
The
Caesar's ghost appeared to Brutus.
Act V
Scene i
Brutus
decides that he will commit suicide if he loses the battle.
Act V
Scene v
Brutus's
suicide by running onto the sword held by Strato.
Praise
of Brutus by Antony.
0501Antony and
Cleopatra.doc
A 1974 television production of Trevor Nunn's stage
version performed by London's Royal Shakespeare Company, this version was shown
in 1975 in the United States to great
acclaim. It stars Janet Suzman
as Cleopatra, Richard Johnson
as Antony, and Patrick Stewart
as Enobarbus.
-------------------------------------------------
Scholars believe that Shakespeare wrote Antony and Cleopatra in 1606, immediately after Macbeth, and it is one of the last great
tragedies that Shakespeare produced. The most geographically sweeping of
Shakespeare’s plays, Antony and Cleopatra’s
setting is the entire Roman Empire, its backdrop the well-documented history of
Octavius Caesar, Marc Antony, and Cleopatra. Shakespeare’s primary source for Antony and Cleopatra was the Life of Marcus Antonius contained in
Plutarch’s Lives of the Noble Grecians
and Romans, which was translated into English by Sir Thomas North in 1579.
North’s language was so rich that Shakespeare incorporated large, relatively
unchanged excerpts of it into his text. The plot of the play also remains close
to North’s history, although characters like Enobarbus and Cleopatra’s
attendants are largely Shakespearean creations.
The action of the story takes place roughly two years after the
events of Shakespeare’s earlier play about the Roman Empire, Julius Caesar. At the beginning of that
tragedy, Caesar has triumphed over his rival Pompey the Great, the father of
young Pompey in Antony and Cleopatra,
and aspires to kingship. Caesar is then assassinated by Cassius and Brutus, who
hope to preserve the Roman Republic. Instead, Cassius and Brutus are defeated
by Mark Antony and Octavius Caesar, Julius’s nephew, who then join Marcus Aemilius
Lepidus to create a three-man government, or triumvirate, over the empire.
Historically, the action of Antony
and Cleopatra takes place over a ten-year span, whereas in the play the
story is compressed to fit the needs of the stage. Antony is clearly much older
than he was in Julius Caesar, and his
political instincts seem to be waning. Octavius Caesar was only a minor
character in the earlier play, but here he comes into his own as the man who
will rise to become the first Roman emperor. Most of the political battles and
machinations depicted are historically accurate, as is the romance of the title
characters.
Analysis
of Major Characters
Mark
Antony
Throughout
the play, Antony
grapples with the conflict between his love for Cleopatra
and his duties to the Roman Empire. In Act I, scene i, he engages Cleopatra in
a conversation about the nature and depth of their love, dismissing the duties
he has neglected for her sake: “Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch / Of
the ranged empire fall” (I.i.35–36). In the very next scene, however, Antony
worries that he is about to “lose [him]self in dotage” (I.ii.106) and fears
that the death of his wife is only one of the ills that his “idleness doth
hatch” (I.ii.119). Thus, Antony finds himself torn between the Rome of his duty
and the Alexandria of his pleasure. The geographical poles that draw him in
opposite directions represent deep-seated conflicts between his reason and
emotion, his sense of duty and his desire, his obligations to the state and his
private needs.
Antony’s
understanding of himself, however, cannot bear the stress of such tension. In
his mind, he is first and foremost a Roman hero of the first caliber. He won
his position as one of the three leaders of the world by vanquishing the
treacherous Brutus and Cassius, who conspired to assassinate his predecessor,
Julius Caesar.
He often recalls the golden days of his own heroism, but now that he is
entangled in an affair with the Egyptian queen, his memories do little more
than demonstrate how far he Has strayed from his ideal self. As he points out
to Octavia
in Act III, scene iv, his current actions imperil his honor, and without his
honor—the defining characteristic of the Roman hero—he can no longer be Antony:
“If I lose my honor, / I lose myself. Better I were
not yours / Than yours so branchless” (III.iv.22–24). Later, having suffered
defeat at the hands of both Caesar and Cleopatra, Antony returns to the imagery
of the stripped tree as he laments, “[T]his pine is barked / That overtopped
them all” (IV.xiii.23–24). Rather than amend his identity to accommodate these
defeats, Antony chooses to take his own life, an act that restores him to his
brave and indomitable former self. In suicide, Antony manages to convince
himself and the world (as represented by Cleopatra and Caesar) that he is “a
Roman by a Roman / Valiantly vanquished” (IV.xvi.59–60).
Cleopatra
The assortment of perspectives
from which we see Cleopatra illustrates the varying understandings of her as a
decadent foreign woman and a noble ruler. As Philo and Demetrius take the stage
in Act I, scene i, their complaints about Antony’s neglected duties frame the
audience’s understanding of Cleopatra, the queen for whom Antony risks his
reputation. Within the first ten lines of the play, the men declare Cleopatra a
lustful “gipsy,” a description that is repeated throughout the play as though
by a chorus (I.i.10). Cleopatra is labeled a “wrangling queen” (I.i.50), a
“slave” (I.iv.19), an “Egyptian dish” (II.vi.123), and a “whore” (III.vi.67);
she is called “Salt Cleopatra” (II.i.21) and an enchantress who has made Antony
“the noble ruin of her magic” (III.x.18).
But to
view Cleopatra as such is to reduce her character to the rather narrow
perspective of the Romans, who, standing to lose their honor or kingdoms
through her agency, are most threatened by her. Certainly
this threat has much to do with Cleopatra’s beauty and open sexuality, which,
as Enobarbus
points out in his famous description of her in Act II, scene ii, is
awe-inspiring. But it is also a performance. Indeed, when Cleopatra takes the
stage, she does so as an actress, elevating her passion, grief, and outrage to
the most dramatic and captivating level. As Enobarbus says, the queen did not
walk through the street, but rather
Hop[ped] forty paces . . .
And having lost her breath, she spoke and panted,
That she did make defect perfection,
And breathless, pour breath forth.
(II.ii.235–238)
Whether
whispering sweet words of love to Antony or railing at a supposedly disloyal
servant, Cleopatra leaves her onlookers breathless. As Antony notes, she is a
woman “[w]hom everything becomes—to chide, to laugh / To weep” (I.i.51–52). It
is this ability to be the perfect embodiment of all things—beauty and ugliness,
virtue and vice—that Cleopatra stands to lose after her defeat by Caesar. By
parading her through the streets of Rome as his trophy, he intends to reduce
her character to a single, base element—to immortalize her as a whore. If
Antony cannot allow his conception of self to expand to incorporate his
defeats, then Cleopatra cannot allow hers to be stripped to the image of a boy
actor “squeaking Cleopatra . . . / I’th’ posture of a whore”
(V.ii.216–217). Cleopatra often behaves childishly and with relentless
self-absorption; nevertheless, her charisma, strength, and indomitable will
make her one of Shakespeare’s strongest, most awe-inspiring female characters.
Octavius
Caesar
Octavius Caesar is both a
menacing adversary for Antony and a rigid representation of Roman law and
order. He is not a two-dimensional villain, though, since his frustrations with
the ever-neglectful Antony seem justified. When he complains to Lepidus that he
resents having to “bear / So great weight in [Antony’s] lightness,” we
certainly understand his concern (I.iv.24–25). He does not emerge as a
particularly likable character—his treatment of Lepidus, for instance, betrays
the cruel underside of Caesar’s aggressive ambitions—but he is a complicated
one. He is, in other words, convincingly human. There is, perhaps, no better
example of Caesar’s humanity than his conflicted feelings about Antony. For a
good deal of the play, Caesar seems bent, rather ruthlessly, on destroying
Antony. When he achieves this desired end, however, he does not relish the
moment as we might expect. Instead, he mourns the loss of a great soldier and
musters enough compassion to be not only fair-minded but also fair-hearted, commanding
that the lovers be buried beside one another.
From
SparkNotes
Themes, Motifs & Symbols
Themes
Themes are the fundamental and often universal
ideas explored in a literary work.
The
Struggle Between Reason and Emotion:
In his
opening lines to Demetrius, Philo complains that Antony has abandoned the
military endeavors on which his reputation is based for Cleopatra’s sake. His
criticism of Antony’s “dotage,” or stupidity, introduces a tension between
reason and emotion that runs throughout the play (I.i.1). Antony and
Cleopatra’s first exchange heightens this tension, as they argue whether their
love can be put into words and understood or whether it exceeds such faculties
and boundaries of reason. If, according to Roman consensus, Antony is the
military hero and disciplined statesmen that Caesar and others believe him to
be, then he seems to have happily abandoned his reason in order to pursue his
passion. He declares: “Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch / Of the ranged
empire fall” (I.i.35–36). The play, however, is more concerned with the battle
between reason and emotion than the triumph of one over the other, and this
battle is waged most forcefully in the character of Antony. More than any other
character in the play, Antony vacillates between Western and Eastern
sensibilities, feeling pulled by both his duty to the empire and his desire for
pleasure, his want of military glory and his passion for Cleopatra. Soon after
his nonchalant dismissal of Caesar’s messenger, the empire, and his duty to it,
he chastises himself for his neglect and commits to return to Rome, lest he
“lose [him]self in dotage” (I.ii.106).
As the
play progresses, Antony continues to inhabit conflicting identities that play
out the struggle between reason and emotion. At one moment, he is the vengeful
war hero whom Caesar praises and fears. Soon thereafter, he sacrifices his
military position by unwisely allowing Cleopatra to determine his course of
action. As his Roman allies—even the ever-faithful Enobarbus—abandon him,
Antony feels that he has, indeed, lost himself in dotage, and he determines to
rescue his noble identity by taking his own life. At first, this course of
action may appear to be a triumph of reason over passion, of -Western
sensibilities over Eastern ones, but the play is not that simple. Although
Antony dies believing himself a man of honor, discipline, and reason, our understanding
of him is not nearly as straight-forward. In order to come to terms with
Antony’s character, we must analyze the aspects of his identity that he
ignores. He is, in the end, a man ruled by passion as much as by reason.
Likewise, the play offers us a worldview in which one sensibility cannot easily
dominate another. Reason cannot ever fully conquer the passions, nor can
passion wholly undo reason.
The
Clash of East and West:
Although
Antony and Cleopatra details the conflict between Rome and Egypt, giving us an
idea of the Elizabethan perceptions of the difference between Western and
Eastern cultures, it does not make a definitive statement about which culture
ultimately triumphs. In the play, the Western and Eastern poles of the world
are characterized by those who inhabit them: Caesar, for instance, embodies the
stoic duty of the West, while Cleopatra, in all her theatrical grandeur,
represents the free-flowing passions of the East. Caesar’s concerns throughout
the play are certainly imperial: he means to invade foreign lands in order to
invest them with traditions and sensibilities of his own. But the play resists
siding with this imperialist impulse. Shakespeare, in other words, does not
align the play’s sympathies with the West; Antony
and Cleopatra can hardly be read as propaganda for Western domination. On
the contrary, the Roman understanding of Cleopatra and her kingdom seems
exceedingly superficial. To Caesar, the queen of Egypt is little more than a
whore with a flair for drama. His perspective allows little room for the real
power of Cleopatra’s sexuality—she can, after all, persuade the most decorated
of generals to follow her into ignoble retreat. Similarly, it allows little
room for the indomitable strength of her will, which she demonstrates so
forcefully at the end of the play as she refuses to allow herself to be turned
into a “Egyptian puppet” for the entertainment of the Roman masses (V.ii.204).
In Antony and Cleopatra, West meets East,
but it does not, regardless of Caesar’s triumph over the land of Egypt, conquer
it. Cleopatra’s suicide suggests that something of the East’s spirit, the
freedoms and passions that are not represented in the play’s conception of the
West, cannot be subsumed by Caesar’s victory. The play suggests that the East
will live on as a visible and unconquerable counterpoint to the West, bound as
inseparably and eternally as Antony and Cleopatra are in their tomb.
The
Definition of Honor:
Throughout
the play, characters define honor variously, and often in ways that are not
intuitive. As Antony prepares to meet Caesar in battle, he determines that he
“will live / Or bathe [his] dying honour in the blood / Shall make it live
again” (IV.ii.5–7). Here, he explicitly links the notion of honor to that of
death, suggesting the latter as a surefire means of achieving the former. The
play bears out this assertion, since, although Antony and Cleopatra kill
themselves for different reasons, they both imagine that the act invests them
with honor. In death, Antony returns to his identity as a true, noble Roman,
becoming “a Roman by a Roman / Valiantly vanquished” (IV.xvi.59–60), while
Cleopatra resolves to “bury him, and then what’s brave, what’s noble, / Let’s
do it after the high Roman fashion” (IV.xvi.89–90). At first, the queen’s words
seem to suggest that honor is a distinctly Roman attribute, but Cleopatra’s
death, which is her means of ensuring that she remains her truest, most
uncompromised self, is distinctly against Rome. In Antony and Cleopatra, honor seems less a function of Western or
Eastern culture than of the characters’ determination to define themselves on
their own terms. Both Antony and Cleopatra secure honorable deaths by refusing
to compromise their identities.
Motifs
Motifs are recurring structures, contrasts, or literary devices
that can help to develop and inform the text’s major themes.
Extravagant
Declarations of Love:
In Act
I, scene i, Antony and Cleopatra argue over whether their love for one another
can be measured and articulated:
CLEOPATRA: [to Antony] If it be love indeed, tell me how much.
ANTONY: There’s beggary in the love that can be reckoned.
CLEOPATRA: I’ll set a bourn how far to be beloved.
ANTONY: Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth.
(I.i.14–17)
This
exchange sets the tone for the way that love will be discussed and understood
throughout the play. Cleopatra expresses the expectation that love should be
declared or demonstrated grandly. She wants to hear and see exactly how much
Antony loves her. Love, in Antony and
Cleopatra, is not comprised of private intimacies, as it is in Romeo and Juliet. Instead, love belongs
to the public arena. In the lines quoted above, Cleopatra claims that she will
set the boundaries of her lover’s affections, and Antony responds that, to do
so, she will need to discover uncharted territories. By likening their love to
the discovery and claim of “new heaven, new earth,” the couple links private
emotions to affairs of state. Love, in other words, becomes an extension of
politics, with the annexation of another’s heart analogous to the conquering of
a foreign land.
Public
Displays of Affection:
In Antony and Cleopatra, public displays of
affection are generally understood to be expressions of political power and
allegiance. Caesar, for example, laments that Octavia arrives in Rome without
the fanfare of a proper entourage because it betrays her weakness: without an
accompanying army of horses, guardsmen, and trumpeters, she cannot possibly be
recognized as Caesar’s sister or Antony’s wife. The connection between public
display and power is one that the characters—especially Caesar and Cleopatra—understand
well. After Antony’s death, their battle of wills revolves around Caesar’s
desire to exhibit the Egyptian queen on the streets of Rome as a sign of his
triumph. Cleopatra refuses such an end, choosing instead to take her own life.
Even this act is meant as a public performance, however: decked in her grandest
royal robes and playing the part of the tragic lover, Cleopatra intends her
last act to be as much a defiance of Caesar’s power as a gesture of romantic
devotion. For death, she claims, is “the way / To fool their preparation and to
conquer / Their most absurd intents” (V.ii.220–222).
Female
Sexuality:
Throughout
the play, the male characters rail against the power of female sexuality.
Caesar and his men condemn Antony for the weakness that makes him bow to the
Egyptian queen, but they clearly lay the blame for his downfall on Cleopatra.
On the rare occasion that the Romans do not refer to her as a whore, they
describe her as an enchantress whose beauty casts a dangerous spell over men.
As Enobarbus notes, Cleopatra possesses the power to warp the minds and
judgment of all men, even “holy priests” who “[b]less her” when she acts like a
whore (II.ii.244–245).
The
unapologetic openness of Cleopatra’s sexuality stands to threaten the Romans.
But they are equally obsessed with the powers of Octavia’s sexuality. Caesar’s
sister, who, in beauty and temperament stands as Cleopatra’s opposite, is
nevertheless considered to possess power enough to mend the triumvir’s damaged
relationship: Caesar and Antony expect that she will serve to “knit [their]
hearts / With an unslipping knot” (II.ii.132–133). In this way, women are
saddled with both the responsibility for men’s political alliances and the
blame for their personal failures.
Symbols
Symbols are objects, characters, figures, or colors used to
represent abstract ideas or concepts.
Shape-Changing
Clouds:
In Act
IV, scene xv, Antony likens his shifting sense of self to a cloud that changes
shape as it tumbles across the sky. Just as the cloud turns from “a bear or
lion, / A towered citadel, a pendent rock,” Antony seems to change from the
reputed conqueror into a debased victim (IV.xv.3–4). As he says to Eros, his
uncharacteristic defeat, both on the battlefield and in matters of love, makes
it difficult for him to “hold this visible shape” (IV.xv.14).
Cleopatra’s
Fleeing Ships:
The
image of Cleopatra’s fleeing ships is presented twice in the play. Antony twice
does battle with Caesar at sea, and both times his navy is betrayed by the
queen’s retreat. The ships remind us of Cleopatra’s inconstancy and of the
inconstancy of human character in the play. One cannot be sure of Cleopatra’s
allegiance: it is uncertain whether she flees out of fear or because she
realizes it would be politically savvy to align herself with Caesar. Her
fleeing ships are an effective symbol of her wavering and changeability.
The
Asps:
One of the most memorable
symbols in the play comes in its final moments, as Cleopatra applies deadly
snakes to her skin. The asps are a prop in the queen’s final and most
magnificent performance. As she lifts one snake, then another to her breast,
they become her children and she a common wet nurse: “Dost thou not see my baby
at my breast, / That sucks the nurse asleep?” (V.ii.300–301). The domestic
nature of the image contributes to Cleopatra’s final metamorphosis, in death,
into Antony’s wife. She assures him, “Husband, I come” (V.ii.278).
--------------------------
Cleopatra -- Daughter of the Pharaoh
From http://www.royalty.nu/Africa/Egypt/Cleopatra.html
Cleopatra
VII was born in 69 BC in Alexandria, which was then the capital of Egypt. Her
father was Egypt's pharaoh, Ptolemy XII, nicknamed Auletes or
"Flute-Player." Cleopatra's mother was probably Auletes's sister,
Cleopatra V Tryphaena. (It was commonplace for members of the Ptolemaic dynasty
to marry their siblings.)
There
was another Cleopatra in the family -- Cleopatra VII's elder sister, Cleopatra
VI. Cleopatra VII also had an older sister named Berenice; a younger sister,
Arsinoe; and two younger brothers, both called Ptolemy. The family was not
truly Egyptian, but Macedonian. They were descended from Ptolemy I, a general
of Alexander the Great who became king of Egypt after Alexander's death in 323
BC.
Ptolemy
XII was a weak and cruel ruler, and in 58 BC the people of Alexandria rebelled
and overthrew him. He fled to Rome while his eldest daughter, Berenice, took
the throne. She married a cousin but soon had him strangled so that she could
marry another man, Archelaus. At some point during Berenice's three-year reign
Cleopatra VI died of unknown causes. In 55 BC Ptolemy XII reclaimed his throne
with the help of the Roman general Pompey. Berenice was beheaded (her husband
was executed, as well).
Cleopatra
VII was now the pharaoh's oldest child. When her father died in 51 BC, leaving
his children in Pompey's care, Cleopatra and her brother Ptolemy XIII inherited
the throne.
Queen of Egypt
Cleopatra
was 17 or 18 when she became the queen of Egypt. She was far from beautiful,
despite her glamorous image today. She is depicted on ancient coins with a long hooked nose and masculine features. Yet she was clearly
a very seductive woman. She had an enchantingly musical voice and exuded
charisma. She was also highly intelligent. She spoke nine languages (she was
the first Ptolemy pharaoh who could actually speak Egyptian!) and proved to be
a shrewd politician.
In
compliance with Egyptian tradition Cleopatra married her brother and co-ruler,
Ptolemy XIII, who was about 12 at the time. But it was a marriage of
convenience only, and Ptolemy was pharaoh in name only. For three years he
remained in the background while Cleopatra ruled alone.
Ptolemy's
advisors - led by a eunuch named Pothinus - resented Cleopatra's independence
and conspired against her. In 48 BC they stripped Cleopatra of her power and
she was forced into exile in Syria. Her sister Arsinoe went with her.
Cleopatra and Caesar
Determined
to regain her throne, Cleopatra amassed an army on Egypt's border. At this time
Pompey was vying with Julius Caesar for control of the Roman Empire.
After losing the battle of Pharsalos he sailed to Alexandria, pursued by
Caesar, to seek Ptolemy's protection. But Ptolemy's advisors thought it would
be safer to side with Caesar, and when Pompey arrived
he was stabbed to death while the pharaoh watched.
Three
days later Caesar reached Alexandria. Before he entered the city, Ptolemy's
courtiers brought him a gift -- Pompey's head. But Pompey had once been
Caesar's friend, and Caesar was appalled by his brutal murder. He marched into
the city, seized control of the palace, and began issuing orders. Both Ptolemy
and Cleopatra were to dismiss their armies and meet with Caesar, who would
settle their dispute. But Cleopatra knew that if she entered Alexandria openly,
Ptolemy's henchmen would kill her. So she had herself
smuggled to Caesar inside an oriental rug. When the rug was unrolled, Cleopatra
tumbled out. It is said that Caesar was bewitched by her charm, and became her
lover that very night.
When
Ptolemy saw Caesar and Cleopatra together the next day, he was furious. He
stormed out of the palace, shouting that he had been betrayed. Caesar had
Ptolemy arrested, but the pharaoh's army -- led by the eunuch Pothinus and
Cleopatra's sister Arsinoe -- laid seige to the palace.
In
hopes of appeasing the attackers Caesar released Ptolemy XIII, but the
Alexandrian War continued for almost six months. It ended when Pothinus was
killed in battle and Ptolemy XIII drowned in the Nile while trying to flee.
Alexandria surrendered to Caesar, who captured Arsinoe and restored Cleopatra
to her throne. Cleopatra then married her brother Ptolemy XIV, who was 11 or 12
years old.
Soon
after their victory Cleopatra and Caesar enjoyed a leisurely two-month cruise
on the Nile. The Roman historian Suetonius wrote that they would have sailed
all the way to Ethiopia if Caesar's troops had agreed to follow him. Cleopatra
may have become pregnant at this time. She later gave birth to a son, Ptolemy
XV, called Caesarion or "Little Caesar." It has been suggested that
Caesar wasn't really Caesarion's father -- despite his promiscuity, Caesar had
only one other child - but Caesarion strongly resembled Caesar, and Caesar
acknowledged Caesarion as his son.
After
the cruise Caesar returned to Rome, leaving three legions in Egypt to protect
Cleopatra. A year later he invited Cleopatra to visit him in Rome. She arrived
in the autumn of 46 BC, accompanied by Caesarion and her young brother/husband,
Ptolemy XIV. In September Caesar celebrated his war triumphs by parading
through the streets of Rome with his prisoners, including Cleopatra's sister
Arsinoe. (Caesar spared Arsinoe's life, but later Mark Antony had her killed at
Cleopatra's request.)
Cleopatra
lived in Caesar's villa near Rome for almost two years. Caesar showered her
with gifts and titles. He even had a statue of her erected in the temple of
Venus Genetrix. His fellow Romans were scandalized by his extra-marital affair
(Caesar was married to a woman named Calpurnia). It was rumored that Caesar
intended to pass a law allowing him to marry Cleopatra and make their son his
heir. It was also rumored that Caesar -- who had accepted a lifetime
dictatorship and sat on a golden throne in the Senate - intended to become the
king of Rome.
On
March 15, 44 BC a crowd of conspirators surrounded Caesar at a Senate meeting
and stabbed him to death. Knowing that she too was in danger, Cleopatra quickly
left Rome with her entourage. Before or immediately after their return to
Egypt, Ptolemy XIV died, possibly poisoned at Cleopatra's command. Cleopatra
then made Caesarion her co-regent.
Cleopatra and Mark Antony
Caesar's
assassination caused anarchy and civil war in Rome. Eventually the empire was
divided among three men: Caesar's great-nephew Octavian, who later became the
emperor Augustus; Marcus Lepidus; and Marcus Antonius,
better known today as Mark Antony.
In 42
BC Mark Antony summoned Cleopatra to Tarsus (in modern-day Turkey) to question
her about whether she had assisted his enemies. Cleopatra arrived in style on a
barge with a gilded stern, purple sails, and silver oars. The boat was sailed
by her maids, who were dressed as sea nymphs. Cleopatra herself was dressed as
Venus, the goddess of love. She reclined under a gold canopy, fanned by boys in
Cupid costumes.
Antony,
an unsophisticated, pleasure-loving man, was impressed by this blatant display
of luxury, as Cleopatra had intended. Cleopatra entertained him on her barge
that night, and the next night Antony invited her to supper, hoping to outdo
her in magnificence. He failed, but joked about it in his good-natured, vulgar
way. Cleopatra didn't seem to mind his tasteless sense of humor - in fact, she
joined right in. Like Caesar before him, Antony was enthralled. Forgetting his
responsibilities, he accompanied Cleopatra to Alexandria and spent the winter
with her there.
The
Greek writer Plutarch wrote of Cleopatra, "Plato admits four sorts of
flattery, but she had a thousand. Were Antony serious or disposed to mirth, she
had at any moment some new delight or charm to meet his wishes; at every turn
she was upon him, and let him escape her neither by day nor by night. She
played at dice with him, drank with him, hunted with him; and when he exercised
in arms, she was there to see. At night she would go rambling with him to
disturb and torment people at their doors and windows, dressed like a
servant-woman, for Antony also went in servant's disguise... However, the
Alexandrians in general liked it all well enough, and joined good-humouredly
and kindly in his frolic and play."
Finally,
"rousing himself from sleep, and shaking off the fumes of wine,"
Antony said goodbye to Cleopatra and returned to his duties as a ruler of the
Roman empire. Six months later Cleopatra gave birth to twins, Cleopatra Selene
and Alexander Helios. It was four years before she saw their father again.
During that time Antony married Octavian's half-sister, Octavia. They had two
daughters, both named Antonia.
In 37
BC, while on his way to invade Parthia, Antony enjoyed another rendezvous with
Cleopatra. He hurried through his military campaign and raced back to
Cleopatra. From then on Alexandria was his home, and Cleopatra was his life. He
married her in 36 BC and she gave birth to another son, Ptolemy Philadelphus.
Meanwhile,
back in Rome, Octavia remained loyal to her bigamous husband. She decided to
visit Antony, and when she reached Athens she received
a letter from him saying that he would meet her there. However, Cleopatra was
determined to keep Antony away from his other wife. She cried and fainted and
starved herself and got her way. Antony cancelled his trip, and Octavia
returned home without seeing her husband.
The
Roman people were disgusted by the way Antony had treated Octavia. They were
also angry to hear that Cleopatra and Antony were calling themselves gods (the
New Isis and the New Dionysus). Worst of all, in 34 BC Antony made Alexander
Helios the king of Armenia, Cleopatra Selene the queen of Cyrenaica and Crete,
and Ptolemy Philadelphus the king of Syria. Caesarion was proclaimed the
"King of Kings," and Cleopatra was the "Queen of Kings."
Outraged,
Octavian convinced the Roman Senate to declare war on Egypt. In 31 BC Antony's
forces fought the Romans in a sea battle off the coast of Actium, Greece.
Cleopatra was there with sixty ships of her own. When she saw that Antony's
cumbersome, badly-manned galleys were losing to the Romans' lighter, swifter
boats, she fled the scene. Antony abandoned his men to follow her. Although it
is possible that they had prearranged their retreat, the Romans saw it as proof
that Antony was enslaved by his love of Cleopatra, unable to think or act on
his own.
For
three days Antony sat alone in the prow of Cleopatra's ship, refusing to see or
speak to her. They returned to Egypt, where Antony lived alone for a time,
brooding, while Cleopatra prepared for an invasion by Rome. When Antony
received word that his forces had surrendered at Actium and his allies had gone
over to Octavian, he left his solitary home and returned to Cleopatra to party
away their final days.
Cleopatra
began experimenting with poisons to learn which would cause the most painless
death. She also built a mausoleum to which she moved all of her gold, silver,
emeralds, pearls, ebony, ivory, and other treasure.
In 30
BC Octavian reached Alexandria. Mark Antony marched his army out of the city to
meet the enemy. He stopped on high ground to watch what he expected would be a
naval battle between his fleet and the Roman fleet. Instead
he saw his fleet salute the Romans with their oars and join them. At this
Antony's cavalry also deserted him. His infantry was soon defeated and Antony
returned to the city, shouting that Cleopatra had betrayed him. Terrified that
he would harm her, Cleopatra fled to the monument that housed her treasures and
locked herself in, ordering her servants to tell Antony she was dead. Believing
it, Antony cried out, "Now, Antony, why delay longer? Fate has snatched
away your only reason for living."
He went to his room and opened his
coat, exclaiming that he would soon be with Cleopatra. He ordered a servant
named Eros to kill him, but Eros killed himself instead. "Well done,
Eros," Antony said, "you show your master how to do what you didn't
have the heart to do yourself." Antony stabbed himself in the stomach and
passed out on a couch. When he woke up he begged his
servants to put him out of his misery, but they ran away. At last Cleopatra's
secretary came and told him Cleopatra wanted to see him.
Overjoyed to hear
Cleopatra was alive, Antony had himself carried to her mausoleum. Cleopatra was
afraid to open the door because of the approach of Octavian's army, but she and
her two serving women let down ropes from a window and pulled him up.
Distraught, Cleopatra laid Antony on her bed and beat her breasts, calling him
her lord, husband and emperor. Antony told her not to pity him, but to remember
his past happiness. Then he died.
The Death of Cleopatra:
When
Octavian and his men reached her monument Cleopatra refused to let them in. She
negotiated with them through the barred door, demanding that her kingdom be
given to her children. Octavian ordered one man to keep her talking while
others set up ladders and climbed through the window. When Cleopatra saw the men she pulled out a dagger and tried to stab herself, but
she was disarmed and taken prisoner. Her children were also taken prisoner and
were treated well.
Octavian
allowed Cleopatra to arrange Antony's funeral. She buried him with royal
splendor. After the funeral she took to her bed, sick with grief. She wanted to
kill herself, but Octavian kept her under close guard. One day he visited her
and she flung herself at his feet, nearly naked, and told him she wanted to
live. Octavian was lulled into a false sense of security.
Cleopatra
was determined to die - perhaps because she had lost Mark Antony, perhaps
because she knew Octavian intended to humiliate her, as her sister Arsinoe had
been humiliated, by marching her through Rome in chains. With Octavian's
permission she visited Antony's tomb. Then she returned to her mausoleum, took
a bath, and ordered a feast. While the meal was being prepared a man arrived at
her monument with a basket of figs. The guards checked the basket and found
nothing suspicious, so they allowed the man to deliver it to Cleopatra.
After
she had eaten, Cleopatra wrote a letter, sealed it, and sent it to Octavian. He
opened it and found Cleopatra's plea that he would allow her to be buried in
Antony's tomb. Alarmed, Octavian sent messengers to alert her guards that
Cleopatra planned to commit suicide. But it was too late. They found the 39-year old queen dead on her golden bed, with her maid Iras
dying at her feet. Her other maid, Charmion, was weakly adjusting Cleopatra's
crown. "Was this well done of your lady, Charmion?" one of the guards
demanded.
"Extremely
well," said Charmion, "as became the descendent of so many
kings." And she too fell over dead.
Two
pricks were found on Cleopatra's arm, and it was believed that she had allowed
herself to be bitten by an asp (a kind of poisonous snake) that was smuggled in
with the figs. As she had wished, she was buried beside Antony.
Cleopatra
was the last pharaoh; after her death Egypt became a Roman province. Because
Caesarion was Julius Caesar's son and might pose a threat to Octavian's power,
Octavian had the boy strangled by his tutor. Cleopatra's other children were
sent to Rome to be raised by Octavia in the court of Octavian (Augustus).
Cleopatra Selene married King Juba II of Mauretania (who had been raised in the
court of Augustus along with Cleopatra Selene) and had two children, Ptolemy
and Drusilla. Their capital as Sirta in northern Africa was a thriving and very
Roman metropolis. No one knows what happened to Alexander Helios and Ptolemy
Philadelphus.
0601Augustus.doc
Imperium:
Augustus
DVD/178 MIN./US R
"O'Toole is the one
who really carries the film, an old veteran delivering on a part that, in
retrospect, seems as if it couldn't have been played by another."
DVD REVIEW
By James Plath
FIRST PUBLISHED Dec 28, 2004
As a boy, I was a bit of an Ancient Rome junkie. I collected
Roman Imperial coins, I read every book I could find on the Roman Empire, and,
of course, I relished those period films. Even as an adult, I loved "I,
Claudius" and Russell Crowe's performance in "Gladiator." I'm
also a Peter O'Toole fan, so the stage was certainly set for me to settle in on
a cold winter's night and curl up with this made-for-Italian-television
three-hour film. And I did enjoy "Augustus"—despite one egregiously
horrible scene, some soap-opera moments, and occasional wincing over apparent
anachronisms.
You could call "Augustus" a more peripatetic and
orgy-less "I, Claudius," because there are plenty of scenes that will
otherwise remind viewers of that acclaimed 1960 BBC mini-series. The cameras
frequently pull in for tight shots on the faces of Augustus (O'Toole) and his
wife Livia (Charlotte Rampling), or on Marc Antony (Massimo Ghini) and
Cleopatra (Anna Valle). The scene construction also resembles a stage play or a
screenplay shot on a small soundstage, with characters talking at length to
each other in close quarters. But unlike "I, Claudius," which was
shot indoors—even implied faraway battle locations were filmed inside
tents—this 2003 entry also offers scenery, scope, and large-scale battles.
"Augustus" was filmed on location in Tunisia, and the production
values are quite good.
"Did I play my part well in this comedy called life?"
Augustus asks those who gather around his deathbed at the film's beginning.
"Applause please." Then it's a flashback to the recent past, with the
beloved Augustus milling among his people in the streets of Rome and surviving
yet another assassination attempt. But perhaps because we haven't seen it
before in films, the shot of Augustus walking through the crowded streets while
the plebeians applaud seems more appropriate to Martin Sheen walking onto the set
of "The West Wing." Yes, Augustus was instrumental in encouraging
public readings as performances, and the historian Suetonius talks about
occasions when audiences were so rude that they talked, slept, or did nothing
with their hands. But it was still a bit jarring—same with a line that Marc
Antony says to Augustus: "You have no balls." Whoa! And yet, Rai
Radiotelevisione Italiana enlisted seven professors as historical advisors, so
perhaps these aren't anachronisms after all. Still, they sure felt head-snappingly
contemporary.
The other major head-snapper was a battle scene where Augustus
and Mark Anthony are about to face off with their armies when one soldier
staring straight ahead at the opposing phalanx exclaims, "It's my
brother," then another says "That's my friend, Marcus," and
another says, "That's my wife's brother," and so-on-and-so-forth,
until you expect them all to belt out a stirring rendition of "He's My
Friend," a song from "The Unsinkable Molly Brown." It's contemporary,
it's comic, and it beats you over the head with a point that a five year old could have gotten. Another battle scene
features the corniest deaths by arrows many of you will have witnessed. Yet,
those goofy moments aside, the battles, the scenes of political intrigue, and
the "talky" scenes that lend some depth to the characters make for a
collectively enjoyable viewing experience.
The action begins with Julius Caesar calling for Octavius
(Augustus) to join him in Spain, and we see the pair fighting side by side and
understand the secret behind Caesar's power: love the legions and work side by
side with them and they will die for you. Later, Octavius takes on the name
that his great-uncle bestowed upon him: Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus, though
he would become known as Caesar Augustus or, after his deification, the Divine
Augustus. As the first master of public relations, Augustus also discovers that
to succeed he must get the people to love him. Even as he's destined to be part
of a second triumvirate with Antony and Lepidus, we watch him form part of a
trio of close friends: Octavius, the leader; Agrippa (Ken Duken), the general; and
Maecenas (Russell Barr, who plays the part in a flamboyantly flaming way), the
politician. The film is narrated in an interesting way, told in flashbacks
within a flashback as the dying Augustus narrates part of the story and an old
Augustus shares part of his life with his daughter, Julia (Vittoria Belvedere).
There's intrigue everywhere and always because the throne is at stake, and the
film stays pretty close to the basic historical facts about Augustus' life,
leaving out an earlier marriage and deviating slightly in other areas as well.
But that's not bad. It allows the filmmakers to focus on the events that led to
Augustus' swift rise to power, and his inclination toward peace when all around
him preferred war.
O'Toole is the one who really carries the film, an old veteran
delivering on a part that, in retrospect, seems as if it couldn't have been
played by another. The supporting cast isn't as strong, but they still deliver
believable performances. Part of the credit has to go to Eric Lerner, who
contributes an intelligent script that only infrequently crosses the line into
melodrama, and to Young, who manages to move the film forward so that 178
minutes doesn't feel like a punishment. This would have merited a 7, if it
weren't for that really awful battle scene that's an insult to even a rock's
intelligence.
Those of you wanting to read more about Augustus, who ruled Rome
from 27 bc to 14 ad, might consider the following as a
starting point:
Buchan, John. Augustus. Boston: Houghton, 1937. Many consider
this to be the modern definitive biography of Caesar Augustus.
Carcopino, Jerome. Daily Life in Ancient Rome. New Haven, Conn.:
Yale Univ. Press, 1940. A highly readable and fascinating account of what it
would have been like to live in Rome, including daily routines and customs,
based on historical research.
Charlesworth, M.P. The Roman Empire. London: Oxford Univ. Press,
1968. Another good primer about life in Ancient Rome, this one focusing on
broader areas of culture.
Suetonius. The Twelve Caesars. Trans. Robert Graves. London:
Penguin Classics, 1957. The "horse's mouth" bio. Suetonius was born
around 69 ad. and based his lives of the Caesars on eyewitness accounts.
Walworth, Nancy Z. Augustus Caesar. New York: Chelsea House,
1989. This one is suggested for younger readers.
Bottom Line:
Aside from the lapses in writing and directorial judgment that
push "Augustus" in the direction of a bad soap opera, and despite
some action scenes where the deaths seem as routinely dramatic as the
cavalrymen shot by arrows in all those 1950s westerns, this made-for-TV movie
is a respectable addition to a growing roster of ancient world spectacles—and
no, we're not counting that thinly disguised porno flick, "Caligula."
"Augustus" is as good as or better than "The
Robe" (1953) and its sequel, "Demetrius and the Gladiators"
(1954), and the writing and performances are miles of aqueducts better than
"The Last Days of Pompeii" (1960). As an epic celebrating a single
character's life, it's on a par with "Cleopatra" (1963), but the
storyline and action isn't as compelling as "Ben-Hur" (1959) or
"Spartacus" (1960), and the cinematography isn't anywhere near as
stylish as what Ridley Scott gave us in "Gladiator" (2000). Still,
"Augustus" does a nice job of blending a relatively historically
accurate narrative with some action and character development. In fact, those
who think "I, Claudius" too talky and slow-moving might actually
prefer "Augustus." O'Toole's performance is every bit as strong as
Derek Jacobi's, and there's much more in the way of public scenes and battles
to offset quieter moments—no orgies, mind you, but then again, Roman debauchery
wasn't built in a day.
Prima
Porta Augustus
AUGUSTUS (31 B.C. - 14 A.D.)
by Nina C. Coppolino
From http://www.roman-emperors.org/auggiex.htm
Introduction
and Summary
Augustus
was born Gaius Octavius on 23 September 63 B.C. His mother, Atia, was the niece
of Julius Caesar; Atia's mother was Caesar's sister. Augustus, therefore, as
the great-nephew of Julius Caesar, had family connections to political power at
Rome. Unlike his great-uncle and adoptive father who was murdered by a
senatorial conspiracy in 44 B.C., Augustus lived a long life, having replaced
the oligarchic rule of the Roman Republic with a constitutional monarchy,
controlled first by the Julio-Claudian Dynasty (31 B.C. -- 68 A.D.), in which
Augustus was followed by Tiberius, Claudius, Caligula, and Nero, all of whom were descended from Augustus or his
wife, Livia.
Through
his gradual efforts, and through the circumstances of his era, Augustus ruled
Rome alone for nearly a half-century (31 B.C. -- 14 A.D.), and he set for all
his successors the institutional and ideological foundations of the Roman
Empire. The broad bases of his power were the army, whose loyalty was
maintained by money and land-grants at retirement, and Tiberius' apparently genuine support
of many people, who wanted at any constitutional cost an end to the factional
bloodshed of the late Republican civil wars; the nobles retained niches in the
regular operation of the still prestigious political administration or in
military roles, property was ultimately secured, administrative roles were more
easily filled by some increased social mobility among the ranks and classes,
and the populace (once fed) was ostensibly defended by the tribunicia potestas
with which Augustus legitimized his rule, and which finally became the official
rubric under which the state was run for centuries. The innovative outcome of
Augustus' rule was the acquisition of sole power at Rome and abroad by the
assumption of traditionally distributed powers found in long-standing Roman
magistracies, military commands, state religious honors, patronage, family
connections, and personal influence.
Rise and Acquisition of Powers
Youth and career to 28 B.C.
In 51
B.C., at the age of twelve, Octavian first appeared publicly to give the
funeral oration for his grandmother, Julia. In 48 Caesar had his
fifteen-year-old great-nephew elected to the priestly college of the
pontifices, and he also enrolled him in the hereditary patrician aristocracy of
Rome: on his mother's side Octavian had the patrician blood of the Caesars,
while his father's family, the Octavii, were wealthy townsmen from Velitrae,
southeast of Rome, to which his father came only as an equestrian banker,
though his grandfather was a senator. After recovering from illness in 46,
Octavian joined Caesar in Spain against the two sons of Pompey the Great, and
in 45 Octavian was sent to Apollonia in Epirus to study with the Greek
rhetorician Apollodorus of Pergamum, and to train with legions stationed
nearby. In 44, only several months after his arrival in Greece, Octavian
learned that Julius Caesar had been murdered at Rome. Octavian then arrived
back in southern Italy to discover that he had been adopted in Caesar's will as
his son and heir. From this time Octavian called himself C. Julius Caesar
Octavianus, though to avoid confusion, modern scholars customarily refer to him
as Octavian before 27 B.C.
A feud
soon developed between Octavian and Antony, Caesar's colleague as consul, who
intended to gain hold of Caesar's Gallic provinces and was luring Caesar's
veterans to his side. Octavian raised an army on his own. Under the terms of
Caesar's will, Octavian was required to pay a legacy to the urban plebs, but
Antony refused to hand over the necessary cash which Caesar's widow had given
to him. In 43 at Mutina Antony was defeated by Octavian with armies given to
him by the senate. Octavian was elected consul that year for the first time at
the unusually young age of nineteen; he had refused to fight unless he got the
consulship because he was convinced that the senate would discard him after
they had used him to get rid of Antony. Finally in 43 at Bononia, Octavian made
terms with Antony and Lepidus, who had alternately supported Caesar, Antony,
and the senate. Together the three men formed the triumvirate, which had been
initially granted absolute powers for five years. They ruthlessly proscribed
120 senators and many equestrian whose property and
money were confiscated to pay troops. In 42 Antony and Octavian defeated Brutus
and Cassius, the murderers of Caesar, in two battles at Philippi in Macedonia;
the credit went to Antony because Octavian was ill during the fighting. On the
ostensibly Republican side, only Sextus Pompey survived with a fleet, and
Domitius Ahenobarbus with the fleet of Brutus and Cassius.
In the
division of provinces and duties after Philippi, Antony got the potential
wealth and glory of the East, and Octavian got the difficult task of settling
veterans in Italy by confiscating property, since there was no money yet to buy
it. He faced protest at home and the starvation of Rome by Sextus Pompey, who
was blockading grain ships in Sicily. In 40 Antony married Octavian's sister
Octavia. In that year at Perusia Octavian fought and defeated Antony's brother,
Lucius, who had objected to Octavian's receiving credit for settling troops in
Italy before Antony returned from the East. Though Lucius was pardoned, others
of Octavian's enemies and the town council of Perusia were executed. Octavian
tried to win the support of Sextus Pompey and his fleet by marrying Pompey's
aunt, Scribonia, in what was now Octavian's third and penultimate match,
producing his only daughter, Julia. Pompey, however, sided with Antony who was
vexed at the Perusine episode and since 42 was spending winters in Egypt with
Cleopatra. In the autumn of 40 at Brundisium, Octavian confronted Antony and
the combined fleets of Pompey and Ahenobarbus, but instead of hostilities they
agreed to a pact; they declared Antony's the Greek-speaking provinces east of
Macedonia, and Octavian's the Latin-speaking provinces west of Illyricum, while
Lepidus remained in Africa, and Pompey initially got nothing and continued to
blockade Italy.
Despite
concessions to Pompey, in 38 war broke out in
indecisive sea battles off Cumae and Rhegium on the coast of southern Italy.
Octavian divorced Scribonia and married his last wife Livia, who brought to the
marriage her own sons, Tiberius and Drusus.
In 38 Octavian replaced his praenomen Gaius with Imperator, the title by which
troops hailed their leader after military success (ultimately Imperator
developed into the title Emperor). From this time Octavian's full title was
Imperator Caesar Divi Filius, including the reference to him as the son of his
deified father. In 37 Octavian built a new fleet under the direction of his
friend and lieutenant Agrippa, and he met Antony at Tarentum to renew the
triumvirate for five more years. In 36 Octavian, Agrippa, and Lepidus launched
a triple attack on Sextus Pompey in Sicily, and they won a naval battle at
Naulochus, after which Pompey was killed in Egypt, and Lepidus was ousted from
the triumvirate for trying to take over Sicily.
In 36
Octavian received tribunician sacrosanctity for his personal security and as an
invocation of his father's support of the people; he circumspectly declined the
title of pontifex maximus because it was held by Lepidus. Antony launched a
failed campaign against the Parthians, and when his wife, Octavia, attempted to
bring supplies and additional troops, he snubbed her and her brother by sending
her home. In 34 Antony gave eastern provinces to his children by Cleopatra, and
Egypt and Cyprus to Cleopatra's children by Caesar; these were the so-called
Donations of Alexandria. In the resulting propaganda war, Octavian did the most
damage to Antony by presenting Cleopatra and her territorial gains as a foreign
menace to the security of Rome. From 35 to 33 Octavian fought in Illyricum and
Dalmatia, the eastern borders of Italy. In 33 Agrippa as aedile dealt with the
precious water supply in Rome and restored aquaducts.
In 32
the inhabitants of Italy and of many provinces swore a personal oath of
allegiance to Octavian to support him against his private enemies. By this oath
Octavian claimed that the people were demanding him as leader in the now
inevitable war, declared nominally against Cleopatra. Antony divorced Octavia.
In 31 Octavian defeated the combined forces of Antony and Cleopatra in a naval
battle at Actium off the coast
of Greece. After the suicides of Antony and Cleopatra in Egypt, Octavian
annexed Egypt as a province. In 31 Octavian assumed the consulship at Rome for
the third time and monopolized it successively through 23.
In 29
Octavian celebrated a triple triumph at Rome for his conquest of Illyricum, for
the battle of Actium, and for the annexation of Egypt. Octavian's now huge army
of sixty legions began to be demobilized and was shortly reduced to
twenty-eight. Soldiers and veterans were paid with funds now drawn from the
vast wealth of Egypt. Despite the fact that wars were going on in Gaul and
Spain, the temple of Janus at Rome was ceremoniously closed, an event that
happened only twice before in history, to signify that Rome was at peace with
the world. The senate and people voted Octavian countless other honors, crowns,
games, commemorative structures, and additional powers, including his ability
to create patricians, both to enlarge and to preserve the social hierarchy into
which Julius Caesar had previously introduced Octavian himself. In 28 with
Agrippa as his colleague in his sixth consulship, Octavian held a census of the
people and moderately reduced the swollen ranks of the senate from 1000 to 800
members, of which he was appointed the leading man.
'The Republic Restored':
The First Constitutional Settlement of the
Principate, 27-24 B.C.
In 27
Octavian declared that he had restored the republic, a claim echoed but also
dismissed even among the ancients. Octavian gave amnesty to his former
opponents in the civil wars. While the senate and assemblies resumed their
regular functions, Octavian maintained his hold on the consulship, but
elections for his colleague took place. The swollen ranks of praetors and
quaestors were reduced by half to the Sullan numbers of eight and twenty,
respectively, and all these offices retained their traditional functions,
including the consulship and praetorship as springboards for provincial
commands.
The
real, monarchical hold, however, that Octavian had on the state was military.
When Octavian announced his plans to lay down supreme power, there had been
protest in the senate, partly from his partisans and partly perhaps from
concern that the state would erupt again into civil war. In the so-called
'first settlement' of 27, Octavian agreed to accept for ten years a provincial
command which contained the largest standing Roman armies, then stationed in
Spain, Gaul, and Syria, the so-called 'imperial provinces.' By the removal of
senatorial proconsuls from Octavian's three major provinces, and with the
placement there of subordinate legates, Octavian was no longer threatened by
men of consular rank with significant armies. The three major senatorial provinces
of Illyricum, Macedonia and Africa appeared to balance Octavian's grant, but in
reality these provinces held only a few legions. Thus without appearing to force the senate, Octavian
obtained sole proconsular power over the major provincial armies; though this
power normally lapsed at Rome, he maintained both civil and military authority
there through his consulship. Technically Octavian used powers given to him for
a fixed period by the senate and people of Rome, and there were Republican
precedents, albeit abnormal ones, for such powers and continuous rule.
Octavian
later claimed that in 27 he had no more power than any of his colleagues in any
magistracy (Res Gestae 34.3), and he referred to himself simply as princeps,
the first man among equals at Rome. This strictly unofficial and broad title,
not to be confused with the narrow parameters of the 'princeps senatus', had
already been applied to individuals in the late Republic, and for centuries the
leading men of Rome had been known as 'principes viri'. Thus the 'principate',
as the era is now designated, suggests a mere pre-eminence in civil affairs
which belies absolute power based ultimately on the army.
The
official title decreed to Octavian by the senate in 27 was Augustus, the name
by which he is most widely known, making his full title Imperator Caesar Divi
Filius Augustus. He considered adopting the name 'Romulus' and the association
it would have for him as the refounder of Rome. Because Romulus, however, also
had the contemporary discredit of both overt monarchy and fratricide, Augustus
preferred the association of his new title with religious awe: holy things, for
instance, were called augusta. The title was traditionally linked by etymology
with augere, 'to increase'; the adjective was juxtaposed with the religious
practice of augury in Ennius's well-known description of Romulus's founding of
Rome augusto augurio. The title Augustus was subsequently held by all Roman
emperors except Vitellius, and Augusta was used to address the wife of the
reigning emperor, or his mother.
After
27 Augustus maintained that he excelled all his equals only in his auctoritas.
This term, also etymologically connected with augustus, had no constitutional
meaning and implied no legal powers; it signified Augustus's moral authority
and increased prestige which guaranteed the good of the order in Rome.
Auctoritas was personal power which rested on the loyalty of people who, as
clients of Augustus, recognized his military conquest and his achievement of
political stability for the commonwealth. This type of power was seen
previously in the personal oath of allegiance of 32, and it did not depend on
the immediate constitutional settlement.
In 27
Augustus ultimately and perhaps wisely freed Rome from his presence to visit
the western provinces of Gaul and Spain. When he returned to Rome in 24, he
became consul for the tenth time with one Norbanus Flaccus, who had supported
both Sextus Pompey and Antony in the civil wars. Despite an indecisive outcome
in the Spanish war, honors were voted by the senate to Augustus's relatives who
participated. Augustus himself was ill and facing a conspiracy against his
life.
The Second Settlement and the
Evolution of the Principate, 23 -- 16 B.C.
In
Augustus's absence from Rome, dissatisfaction with the new regime had
apparently resulted in a conspiracy by his colleague in the consulship, Varro
Murena, and a Republican, Fannius Caepio, both of whom were brought to trial
and executed. Though Augustus veiled monarchic power more than Julius Caesar
did, Augustus's unending series of consulships was a thorn in the side of the
senatorial class, which was prevented yearly from competing for one of the two
seats of the supreme magistracy. In 23 Augustus abdicated the consulship, and
in so doing, he made room for more nobles, relieved himself of consular duties,
and increased the number of former consuls available for administrative work.
He held the consulship again on only two occasions, 5 and 2 B.C., to introduce
his grandsons to public life; he held this office a total of thirteen times,
nine of them consecutively from 31-23.
Without
the consulship Augustus lacked legitimate civil and military authority at Rome.
Accordingly in 23, he was awarded the tribunicia potestas for life. With this
grant, Augustus regained the initiative to bring legislation and motions before
the senate; he got the right of putting the first motion in any meeting of the
senate, despite the fact that the seniority of the actual tribunate was very
low; he technically had the right to the tribunician veto, but he probably
never had to use it, because he would already have approved of motions before
they reached the senate; he got magisterial power to compel citizens to obey
his orders; he got the power to help citizens oppressed by other magistrates
(and he had already been granted tribunician sacrosanctity for his personal
protection in 36). Augustus did not need any of these new powers themselves,
but rather the legitimacy they provided. It was also convenient that
tribunician power was traditionally invoked in protection of the common people.
To advertise this association with the people, Augustus set the official
beginning of his reign at the assumption of tribunician power in 23;
traditionally years had been numbered by the annual consulship, but now they
were counted by the successive tenure of tribunician power, a practice which
continued throughout the Imperial period.
Without
the consulship, Augustus technically did not any longer have military power in
Rome, but only in his own provinces. The senate therefore enlarged his
proconsular imperium so that it did not lapse when he entered the boundaries of
the city; more importantly, since the consuls at Rome had more power than any
one abroad and could command any army, Augustus's military power was officially
declared greater than any proconsul's, reducing them all to his legates, with
what was called 'maius imperium proconsulare'. Greater military power and
tribunician power were thus for Augustus the legitimate bases of rule, and they
remained so throughout the duration of the Empire.
Perhaps
Augustus's illness in 23 forced him to provide for the control of the armies
abroad by having the senate grant Agrippa proconsular imperium for five years;
Agrippa then got an eastern command. In 22 riots broke out at Rome, when flood,
disease and famine were attributed to the fact that Augustus had withdrawn from
the consulship and apparently was not in charge. Augustus refused to take the
office of dictator, which was too politically charged with envy and hatred, and
he also refused to accept the censorship for life and its traditionally
despised power to expel members of the senate arbitrarily. He did, however,
assume the care of the grain supply, which he quickly repaired, and then he
left for Sicily, Greece, and Asia.
After
Augustus left Rome, there was disorder at the consular elections of 22, with
only one consul elected when Augustus refused to stand for the office; the next
year there was a similar crisis. Augustus refused to return to Rome during all
the trouble. To help elect the consuls and to restore order he sent Agrippa,
who in 21 married Augustus's daughter, Julia, then widowed by the death of
Marcellus two years earlier. In 19 Augustus was again begged to take the
consulship, which he refused, and was summoned to Rome because of more unrest;
the day he finally arrived was declared a holiday by the senate, and an altar
was dedicated to Fortune the Homebringer. In 19 he accepted consular power for
life, the right to sit between the two elected consuls, to bear the fasces as
symbols of power, and to be attended by twelve lictors. Though Augustus did not
need consular power, the visibility of it appeared to quell the agitation of
the people. He also accepted a five-year appointment as supervisor of morals
with censorial powers. By 19 he held not the invidious offices but the actual
powers of the consulship, tribunate, censorship; effectively, he also held the
military dictatorship.
In 18
the powers of the principate were renewed for five more years through the
extension of the proconsular power which was initially granted to Augustus for
ten years at the first constitutional settlement of 27. Now Augustus made
Agrippa virtually co-regent through the renewal award of proconsular power, and
the award of tribunician power. In 18 Augustus used his censorial power to
reduce the ranks of the senate again from eight-hundred to six- hundred members
(the three such senatorial reforms took place in 29, 18, and 11). By the
authority of his tribunician power, he passed the Julian Laws of 18 for moral
reform and the criminal code. The new laws were intended to mitigate the social
and civil disorder caused by the cynicism of late Republican anarchy, and to
encourage long-term stability for the state. There were laws against adultery
and promoting marriage and childbirth by the grant of special privileges or
penalties, laws against luxury and electoral corruption, and appellate laws
superceding public jury-verdicts ultimately to the jurisdiction of Augustus
himself.
Remaining years of the Principate and
Succession, 17 B.C. -- 14 A.D.
To mark
the new age of Augustus in 17, he and Agrippa celebrated the solemn sacrifices
at the time-honored Secular Games. In succession plans that year, Augustus
adopted his grandsons, Gaius and Lucius, sons of Agrippa and Julia. From 16 to
13 Augustus was abroad organizing Gaul, and Agrippa was in Asia. In 15 Augustus
established the Imperial mint at Lugdunum; the senate, which traditionally
controlled coinage, continued to produce money in bronze, while Augustus
obtained direct control over gold and silver coinage with the mint at Lugdunum
in the west and at Antioch in the east. In 13 Augustus and Agrippa returned to
Rome, and their provinces were renewed for five more years, as was Agrippa's
tribunician power; later in that year Agrippa died, leaving Augustus without
his long-trusted friend, who was buried with lavish honors in Augustus's
mausoleum on the bank of the Tiber river. After
Agrippa's death, Julia bore their third son, Agrippa Postumus. Tiberius had to divorce his wife,
Vipsania, to marry the widowed Julia. In 13 the former triumvir, Lepidus, also
died, leaving open the life-long office of the high priest of Roman
state-religion; in 12 Augustus became pontifex maximus. Augustus's power as
supervisor of morals was renewed for five more years. He reformed the senate
for the third time, and he set up a permanent commission for the care of the
water supply, which had been Agrippa's domain. Tiberius and Drusus campaigned in
Germany and Dalmatia, and in 9 Drusus died. In 8 Augustus's proconsular power
was renewed for a third time for ten years; a census was held, the month
Sextilis was renamed August, and Rome was divided into fourteen regions.
In 6 Tiberius was given tribunician power
for life and was sent to the east to settle the throne in Armenia. In 5 and 2
Augustus again assumed the consulship only to introduce his grandsons, Gaius
and Lucius, to public life, with their ceremonial assumption of the toga
virilis. At the designation of Gaius in 5 as princeps iuventutis and so as
apparent successor of Augustus, Tiberius settled at Rhodes for eight
years in so-called retirement, which may have been used to gain support in the
east for his own succession. In 2 B. C. Augustus received the purely honorific
title pater patriae, with the associations of the power and prestigious
influence of a father over the state family. His titles included Imperator
Caesar Divi Filius Augustus Pontifex Maximus, Pater Patriae. All of his titles
were republican, including Imperator. His military proconsular power was never
given prominence in his official appellation; Trajan was the first emperor to
use the title proconsul, and only when he was not in Italy.
In 2
Gaius was dispatched from Rome to negotiate with the Parthians in the east. In
this year Augustus was compelled to banish from Rome his own daughter, Julia,
for her scandalous personal behavior, which was a great embarrassment to her
father's legislative efforts at moral reform. With Julia's departure and
divorce from Tiberius, Augustus had
to make his dynastic plans without the hope of any more male grandchildren, the
supply of which dwindled to only Agrippa Postumus, when Lucius and Gaius died,
in 2 and 4 A.D., respectively. In 2 A.D. Tiberius was recalled from Rhodes to
Rome, perhaps because eastern support for his succession had surpassed Gaius'; Tiberius' consular imperium and
tribunician power had run out in 1 B.C. and had not been renewed. In 4 A.D.,
after the death of Gaius, Augustus adopted Tiberius and Agrippa Postumus. Though
Augustus preferred a Julian heir to the Claudian Tiberius, Augustus disliked the wild
behavior of Agrippa Postumus and exiled him three years after his adoption. Tiberius, now adopted into the Julian
line, was forced to enlarge the line further by adopting, in dynastic
preference to his own son by Vipsania, his nephew Germanicus; his mother was
the daughter of Augustus's sister, and Germanicus married Augustus's granddaughter,
Agrippina.
From 4
to 11 Augustus employed Tiberius in campaigns
in the Balkans and Germany. In 6 Augustus established the aerarium militare as
a public treasury to pay soldiers; though he made the initial grant from his
own money, thereafter the treasury was maintained by new sales and inheritance
taxes, with the result that donations to retired soldiers did not appear to
depend on the emperor. A new fire brigade and nocturnal police force was also
established, in seven cohorts of one-thousand freedmen each, with two cohorts
for each of the fourteen regions of the city. In 12 Tiberius celebrated a triumph for
Dalmatia and Pannonia, and Germanicus held the consulship.
In 13 Tiberius was again granted proconsular
imperium and tribunician power. In 14 he conducted a census with Augustus and
then left Rome for a command in Illyricum. Augustus died on 19 August A.D. 14
at Nola. The armies were loyal to Tiberius, and he had the tribunician
right of initiative at Rome. This hereditary system of succession was
established by Augustus for centuries.
The
Empire
Territorial Acquisitions
Political
power at Rome had always been won through the force, prestige, and wealth of
conquest; Augustus' armies conquered more lands than any of his Roman
predecessors or successors. After the death of Cleopatra in 30, Egypt was the
first major gain by Augustus, with the wealth and flourishing cities of the
Ptolemies, and Egyptian grain. Exposed geographically only in the south, the
province was advanced to the First Cataract by the prefect Cornelius Gallus; in
25 there was another successful expedition against raids by the Ethiopians.
Although Augustus, through his legate, failed to conquer Arabia Felix, the Red
Sea was secured and sea-trade with India was ultimately established. In 27
Augustus visited Gaul and held a census there for the purpose of fairer
taxation, and in 26-25 he fought a war in Spain, which Agrippa finally
concluded in 19, with the pacification of the province. While Augustus was in
Spain, Varro Murena defeated the Salassi, who were raiding Cisalpine Gaul from
Aosta in the western Alps. In 25 Augustus settled Juba as the king of
Mauretania in Africa, another province valuable for the grain supply to Rome.
In 25
in Asia Minor, Galatia was annexed, and Augustus founded the colony of Caesarea
at Antioch. The main problem in the east was Parthia, which could unsettle
Roman control in neighboring Armenia, and further west into Galatia. In 30
Augustus refrained from a draining war with Phraates of Parthia, by refusing to
abet a pretender to the Parthian throne, by setting up a client-king in Armenia
minor, and by holding the brothers of Armenian king Artaxes as hostages to
Armenia's good behavior as a buffer state in the area. Ten years later, after
the watchful regency of Agrippa from 23-21, Augustus reached a diplomatic
settlement with Parthia for the return of the Roman standards captured from
Crassus in 53 B.C., for the stability of the Parthian kingdom in the region,
and for Parthian agreement to Roman control in Armenia; Parthia acquiesced
under only the threat of combined military force from Augustus in Syria and Tiberius in Armenia. From 16-13
Agrippa was back in the east settling the Bosporan kingdom, which was
economically important as the main source of food from southern Russia for
cities of northern Asia Minor and the Aegean, as well as for Roman troops on
the eastern frontier; despite a later shift in local control, Roman hegemony
was established.
In 15 Tiberius and Drusus completed the
pacification of the northern Alpine frontier, begun in 25 when T. Varro wiped
out the Salassi on the western side. Now on the eastern side of the Alps, the
frontier was pushed up to the Danube river, including
Raetia and Noricum. With Alpine passes open, Cisalpine and Transalpine Gaul
became more united and prosperous; the raids of the Alpine tribes of Italy were
over, and Roman armies could more easily get to central Gaul and the Rhine.
From 13-9 the northern frontier was further strengthened near Illyricum by the
conquest of Pannonia. Roman control thus stretched from the Adriatic to the
Danube, making an overland route from Rome to Illyricum through the easternmost
Julian Alps, and connecting Macedonia to Italy and Gaul. After an uprising in
Thrace was quelled from 11-9, the Romans were in control of the territory south
of the entire length of the Danube to the Black Sea. At the northernmost
frontier, Drusus campaigned in Germany from 12-9 and tried to advance Caesar's
German frontier of the Rhine as far as the Elbe, but he accomplished only raids
between the two rivers.
On the
eastern frontier, the Parthians and Armenians were in dispute again, and in 2
B.C. Augustus sent his grandson Gaius there, in what was already a successfully
negotiated end to the trouble. Since 37 Judea had been controlled by Herod the
Great as a friend of Augustus; Judea was finally made into a Roman province in
6 A.D., when at the request of the Jews, Archelaus, the son of Herod, was
driven out.
In 5
A.D. on the northern frontier Tiberius reached the Elbe, and then
tried to subdue the Marcomanni, so that by linking the Elbe with the Danube a
new frontier could be established all the way to the Black Sea. His efforts
were interrupted and never resumed. In 6 there was a great and bloody revolt in
Pannonia and Dalmatia, which Tiberius finally crushed in 7-8 in
Pannonia, and in 9 in Dalmatia. Though Tiberius did return to Germany, he and
Germanicus were occupied in defending the Rhine after Quinctilius Varus
suffered a disastrous defeat there at the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest, losing
three legions and all the territory east of the river. Despite the recovery of
the river and forays beyond it, Augustus gave up the thought of a frontier
beyond the Rhine.
Imperial Policy and Ideology
In his
relationship with the armies as well as with the provincials, Augustus operated
as a patron to clients. He was the only patron of the client army, which he
controlled with land or money, often out of his own great wealth; he gave to
his successors an army accustomed to dynastic loyalty. Similarly in the
provinces, local client-kings and magistrates who were loyal to Augustus
created relative stability for an empire whose allegiance no longer shifted to
the latest victor in Roman civil wars, but rested on the dynasty of the
principate.
While
an overseas empire demanded a standing army instead of simply an emergency
force, Augustus still did not have an integrated imperial policy of either
defense or expansion. Military campaigns were conducted pragmatically for the
protection of frontiers, the assurance of the food supply, or the reaction to
rebellion. Augustus, however, exploited the appearance of aggressive conquest,
taking military credit even for diplomatic gains like Parthia, and granting
decisive honors for family who were only minimally successful, or who had to
return subsequently to quell rebellion.
The
ideology of the Pax Augusta referred to the condition of those who had been
subdued; peace was born of broad imperial conquest, which did not imply any
limits or a governing policy of pacifism. Similarly, conquest or colonization
by Augustus did not have an ideological and policy goal of Romanization. The
primary purpose of colonization of pacified regions was military control
through the grant of land to soldiers who formed garrison-colonies, and these
colonies had the effect of encouraging trade in the provinces. In the west, the
adoption of Roman customs and language took place spontaneously in the relative
cultural void, which absorbed the Roman pattern of urbanization; in the east
the sophisticated native cultures were not Romanized, nor did Augustus intend
them to be.
State
Religion, and Imperial Image and Building
Roman
religion consisted of cult ritual, whose regular and traditional performance
had a cohesive role in the state. The prestige of religious things had been
dampened by neglect during the civil war years, but now religion was restored
and promoted by Augustus for stability and for his own position in the state.
Julius Caesar had traced the divine ancestry of his family to Venus and Mars,
and when he was deified in 42, Augustus early in his career became the son of a
god; in 29 he dedicated the Temple of the Divine Julius in the Roman Forum.
Augustus's defeat of Antony and Cleopatra was portrayed as a victory of Roman
over Egyptian gods; in 28 Augustus dedicated a temple to 'Actian Apollo' on
Rome's Palatine Hill, where Augustus himself lived. Apollo was represented in a
cult statue and in reliefs as both the god of vengeance against sacrilege like
Antony's, and also as a bringer of peace. Augustus undertook the restoration of
existing temples in the city, and he claims to have rebuilt eighty-two. (Res Gestae,
20.4)
After
Actium Augustus was venerated as a divine king in Egypt, and the provinces in
the east were allowed to erect temples to him in association with the goddess
Roma. At Rome the senate made the traditional vows and prayers for his safety,
and included him in annual prayers at the beginning of the year; even at Rome,
however, the process of divination was begun. His name was included in the
ancient Salian hymn to Mars or Quirinus. In 27 the cult of the Genius of
Augustus was established, in which it was decreed that a libation should be
poured to his guardian spirit at public and private banquets. The senate
authorized a tribute to his moral leadership by setting up in the senate-house
a golden shield celebrating his military virtue, clemency, justice, and social
and religious responsibility; this shield was associated with the goddess
Victoria and therefore implied god-given rule. Laurel trees sacred to Apollo
were set up on either side of Augustus's house, and for rescuing citizens he
was awarded the corona civica, made of oak leaves from the tree sacred to
Jupiter. On coins of the period Jupiter's eagle, a symbol of apotheosis, was
depicted with the civic crown and laurel branches.
In 27
in the Campus Martius Agrippa built the Pantheon, but he was not allowed to
fashion it as an overt 'Augusteum'; instead the temple
was dedicated to the divine ancestry of Augustus through Venus, Mars, and the
deified Julius. In 25-24 work began on the Temple of Mars Ultor, which Augustus
had vowed at the battle of Philippi in vengeance for his father's murder, and
which later housed the standards returned by the Parthians. In 22 the temple of
Jupiter Tonans was dedicated on the Capitoline Hill by Augustus who had escaped
being struck by lightning during the Spanish campaign. After 20 the Prima Porta
Augustus was commissioned, a statue of the emperor on whose cuirass is depicted
the return of the standards by Parthia, in the presence of Mars, Apollo, and
Venus.
In 17
Augustus celebrated the Secular Games which marked the close of a saeculum or
epoch of a human life-span, defined in the Republic at one- hundred years, but
celebrated elastically in Augustus's day at one-hundred- and-ten. In the new
spirit of prosperity, the traditional deities of dread, including warlike Mars,
and underworld Pluto and Persephone, were absent; sacrifices were made in honor
of the Fates, the goddess of childbirth, Earth Mother, Jupiter and Juno, and
Apollo and Diana. The poet Horace was commissioned to write a hymn which was
sung by twenty-seven boys and twenty-seven girls.
In 13
at the return of Augustus from Spain and Gaul, the senate decreed the Ara Pacis
to be built near the Campus Martius. This altar was to be used by magistrates
and priests for annual sacrifices. Reliefs on the altar depict the symbols and
fruits of peace in juxtaposition with figures of war by which peace was gained,
and there are processions perhaps representing the major priesthoods in Rome,
with Augustus himself portrayed in religious attire. Near this altar was a
sundial associated with Augustus's patron, the sun-god
Apollo. In 12 in the western province of Gaul, Drusus set up an altar at
Lugdunum dedicated to Roma and Augustus.
After
Actium, when Augustus was given the power of creating new patricians, the
supply of men for priesthoods was increased. Augustus himself became a member
of the Fratres Arvales, an elite fraternity which performed time-honored,
public sacrifices for the prosperity of the state- family. In 12 Augustus
became pontifex maximus; in 11, a new high priest of Jupiter, the flamen
dialis, was appointed. When Augustus in 8 divided Rome into fourteen regions,
the humble worship by the poor of the gods of the crossroads, the Lares
Compitales, was elevated to official stature; this worship was promoted
throughout the regions of Rome and Italy in association with the worship of the
genius of Augustus. At this time the genius of Augustus was probably included
in official oaths.
Less than one month after his
death in 14 A.D., divine honors were decreed to Augustus at Rome, and the
precedent was set there for the posthumous deification of successive emperors.
Assessment
There
was not a dyarchic division of power between the senate and Augustus. Augustus
ultimately had the power of all the legions abroad and of the standing army of
9,000 soldiers in the Praetorian Guard at Rome and in the Italian towns. The
senate, however, had important judicial, financial, and probouleutic functions
at home, and it was the source of provincial governorships. The basic social
hierarchy of Rome was maintained with the senatorial nobility at the top; the
equites, who were of the same economic class but lacked the prestige of the
senate, still staffed the jury-courts and junior army and procuratorial posts,
but now they also got provincial commands. Around Augustus there was not so
much a 'party' of political alliance, as a group of friends or clients who were
confidants by the personal choice of Augustus. Most important for advisory,
administrative, and military positions was the dynastic network of the imperial
family.
In both
the ancient and modern assessments of Augustus, there is a tension between the
favorable view that the statesman Augustus atoned for the ruthlessness of
Octavian, and the negative view that Augustus pursued power under all
circumstances, doomed the nobility, slaughtered libertas, and was the political
forerunner of World War Two continental dictators. It is apparent, at least,
that the most historically significant result of the principate was the
restoration of a ratified rule of law, with Augustus as the supreme judge,
initiator, and executive officer. This rule evolved gradually and
pragmatically; its basic ideology and administration were transmitted by the
dynastic system for centuries of relative stability at Rome.
Ancient
Sources
On
Augustus as Octavian, Cicero's letters and Philippics describe the year after
Julius Caesar's murder (March 44 - summer 43 BC); Plutarch's Lives of Brutus
and Antony are sources for the triumviral period.
The
Monumentum Ancyranum is an inscription known since the sixteenth century from
the temple of 'Rome and Augustus' at Ancyra in Galatia. The inscription is
Augustus's own account of his achievements and honors at Rome. This account is
commonly known by its prefatory title Res Gestae Divi Augusti, or
"achievements of the divine Augustus." The purpose of the inscription
was to show and justify Augustus's influence and power at Rome and in the Roman
world. The text, which is addressed to the Roman people, describes the
beginning of his public life, his military successes, honors given to him,
official expenditures for the public good, foreign policy, and ultimately the
highest honor any Roman could receive, the title of pater patriae, 'father of
the country.' Since Augustus received this title in 2 B.C. the text of the
Ancyra inscription appears to date from that time, though earlier drafts are
likely, as his honors and achievements grew. According to Suetonius (Aug. 101,
4), the inscription was originally designed for bronze tablets set up in front
of Augustus's mausoleum built substantially, if not completely, in 28 BC at
Rome.
The
Fasti Consulares and Fasti Juliani provide further epigraphic evidence about
Augustus and his time in the form of official lists of the holders of the
annual consulship at Rome, and of holidays and religious festivals,
respectively.
Nicolaus
of Damascus wrote a Life of Augustus c. 25-20 B.C.; only a fragment of this
eulogistic work survives concerning Augustus's youth and ending with the death
of Julius. The work was probably a free paraphrase of an autobiography by
Augustus.
Velleius
Paterculus, who wrote the Histories during the reign of Tiberius (14-37 A,D.), provides a virtually contemporary, often eye-witness,
and flattering account of wars of the Augustan period.
Appian
describes events at Rome until 35 B.C. Though he wrote the Civil Wars in the
second century A.D., Appian's account, sometimes favorable and sometimes not,
is based on the contemporary history of C. Asinius Pollio, who was consul in 40
B.C.
Dio
Cassius is the main source for events at Rome from 36 B.C., though the author
himself lived c. 150-235 A.D., and his sources for the Augustan period are
unknown. His account describes a ruthless Octavian, but an ideal Augustus as
princeps, and a model for the Severan Era.
Tacitus
gives an account of Augustus's merits and mostly demerits in the Annals, which
the historian may have started composing as early as 115.
Suetonius
wrote a Life of Augustus in the second century A.D. Suetonius was the court
archivist of Hadrian ( 117-38 A.D.), and he had access
to imperial documents of the Augustan age. Detached anecdotes replace a fully
connected chronology.
Philo
of Alexandria extols the benevolence of Augustus in contrast to Caligula, in
Embassy to Gaius, c. 40 A.D.
Flavius
Josephus both favored and disfavored Rome in Bellum Judaism c. 75 and Jewish
Antiquites c 93-94A.D..
Pliny
the Elder wrote negative reports about Augustus in Natural History, completed
in 77 A.D.
Florus
wrote a second century A.D. Epitome of all Wars during 700 Years, an
abridgement of the history of Roman wars waged through the Age of Augustus.
Eutropius and Aurelius Victor were fourth century A.D. epitomists; Eutropius
based his early Roman history on an epitome of Livy, and Victor wrote the
Caesares based on Suetonius. John Zonaras wrote a twelfth century epitome of
Dio Cassius.
Lastly,
for the era and the man, the literature of the Augustan Age is a major source
which includes the works of Livy, Vergil, Horace, Ovid, Propertius, and
Tibullus
.
Bibliography
Birch,
R.A. "The Settlement of AD 4 and its Aftermath," CQ 31 (1981):
443-56.
Bowersock,
G.W. Augustus and the Greek World. 1965.Oxford.
Bowman,
Alan K., Edward Champlin, and Andrew Lintott, edd. T h e Cambridge Ancient
History, vol. X, The Augustan Empire 43 B.C. - A.D. 69. second edition, 1996.
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0701Caligula.doc
Caligula
From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1979_in_film
Caligula is a 1979 film directed by Tinto Brass, with additional
scenes filmed by Bob Guccione and Giancarlo Lui, about the Roman Emperor Gaius
Caesar Germanicus also known as "Caligula". Caligula was written by
Gore Vidal and co-financed by Penthouse magazine, though the script underwent
several re-writes after Tinto Brass and Malcolm McDowell found Gore Vidal's
interpretation of the infamous Emperor to be unsatisfactory. The producers were
Bob Guccione and Franco Rossellini. The film was initially budgeted at
$17.5-million, but by the end of the production the budget swelled up to about
$22 million. The film ended up grossing $21 million in its initial release;
afterward, Caligula became a long-time hit on home video market. The production
advertised itself as "the most controversial film in history. Only one
movie dares to show the perversion behind Imperial Rome..."
It stars Malcolm McDowell as the Emperor and chronicles his rise
and fall as the brief ruler of the Roman Empire. The film focuses heavily on
Caligula's infamously deviant sexual practices, as well as those of his
contemporaries. It drew heavy criticism because of its scenes of actual
penetration in the "uncut" version.
Production:
Gore Vidal developed the screenplay from Roberto Rossellini's
unproduced television mini-series treatment at the request of the famous
director's nephew, Franco. Rossellini and Vidal originally intended for the
film to be a modestly budgeted historical drama, but could not find a
financier, until Vidal had the idea of contacting media mogul Bob Guccione, who
agreed on two conditions; that the film would be transformed into a flamboyant,
over-the-top, luxurious spectacle akin to Hollywood's sword and sandal epics of
the 50's and 60's and that hardcore sex would be added to the script in order
to plug Guccione's Penthouse magazine. Both Vidal and Rossellini obliged.
Celebrated art director Danilo Donati was hired to build the
expensive and complex sets & costumes. Renowned talent, including Malcolm
McDowell, Helen Mirren, Peter O'Toole and John Gielgud were cast. Maria
Schneider was originally cast as Caligula's doomed sister Drusilla, but later
dropped out due to her concerns with the sex and nudity in the film and was
shortly replaced by Teresa Ann Savoy. Tinto Brass, a relatively young Italian
director known for his works of avante-garde, but picked out by Bob Guccione
for being able to fuse explicit sex and big budget historical drama in the 1976
controversial film Salon Kitty, was hired to direct the film. The production
was housed in Dear Studios, Rome, where the infamous debacle Cleopatra was
filmed thirteen years earlier. The shooting commenced in September of 1976,
with the hopes of an early 1977 release.
This proved to be simply wishful thinking, as the entire
production started to slowly fall apart. It first started with Tinto Brass and
Malcolm McDowell being unhappy with Gore Vidal's interpretation of the title
character, Vidal agreed to collaborate with them and re-write the shooting
script over a dozen times, and the three people became rather annoyed with each
other by the time the principal photography began.
Soon afterwards, due to Rossellini and Guccione's inexperience
in producing major films, it was realized by the filmmakers involved that the
shooting schedule for the production was horribly unrealistic for a film of
such scope and Danilo Donati had to scrap his original ideas for the sets and
replace them with such surreal imagery as bizarre matte paintings, blacked out
areas, silk backdrops and curtains. This resulted in even more departures from
the script, with Tinto Brass and the actors improvising around scenes written
to take place in entirely different locations, and sometimes shooting whole new
scenes (such as the frolicking scene that erroneously opens the film) in order
show some progress made while the incomplete sets were off-limits. The production
was also plagued with delays due to the constant clashes between Tinto Brass
and Bob Guccione over the sexual nature of the film.
Malcolm McDowell as
Caligula
By the time the principal photography on Caligula had completed,
Gore Vidal (having learned the hard way from his involvement with Myra
Breckinridge), was beginning to fear of being associated with such an
out-of-control production and rightfully thinking that the film would turn out
incoherent, disowned the movie and did his best to distance himself from the
project. Bob Guccione, infuriated that Tinto Brass didn't showcase his
hand-picked Penthouse Pet models, secretly snuck back into the studio and shot additional
hardcore sexual content more in line with his vision of the film, which he
would later use to replace Tinto Brass' bizarre and farcical scenes of sexual
depravity.
When the film finally entered post-production, Bob Guccione and
his close friend Giancarlo Lui decided to fire Tinto Brass because neither was
happy of where he had taken the film in terms of story, political context
(Guccione would later call Brass a "Communist") and depiction of
sexuality. Giancarlo Lui then took it upon himself to re-fashion the film into
something more in-line with what Gore Vidal had first scripted many drafts ago
and, more importantly, with what the readers of Penthouse magazine were expecting
out of a Bob Guccione production. This ultimately proved to be a grave mistake
that destroyed the film.
Lui deleted as much surrealism and inventions of Malcolm
McDowell and Brass as he possibly could without completely distorting the
story. Also, with much footage improvised and re-written from the original
draft of the film, many scenes were deleted all together or trimmed, scrambled
and re-cut into something barely coherent. Also, much of the disturbing sexual
images Brass had shot were deleted and about six minutes worth of them were
replaced by Bob Guccione's re-shoots. All in all, the final cut of the film
bore virtually no resemblance to what Tinto Brass and Malcolm McDowell had
intended. Ironically, it also bore little resemblance to what Vidal wanted as
well.
In the unpleasant aftermath, Tinto Brass and Gore Vidal launched
numerous independent lawsuits over such things as breach of contract and fraud,
delaying the release of Caligula indefinitely. Both eventually settled for cash
settlements and the right to have their names partially removed from the film.
Afterwards, various charges of obscenity also contributed to the film's hold up
from public release.
In late 1979, almost four years after the production began,
Caligula finally made its debut in a crippled, butchered, practically
incoherent form.
Multiple versions:
Caligula was shown in various versions, including:
* A 150
minute Italian cut; it was basically a shortened version of the U.S.
edition. It was eventually pulled out of release in favor of Franco
Rossellini's re-edited version (more on which below), but a briefly released
VHS tape exists, though it is now out-of print and until recently was
considered a collector's item. However, Raro Video announced that it would
release a re-mastered edition of this cut on December 5th, 2006, along with an
interview by Tinto Brass, in which he, for the first time, would discuss in
great detail where the editing of the film went wrong. This never came to
fruition, when Raro Video's distributor backed out at the last second and the
company ended up replacing it with a remastered print of Franco Rossellini's
edit, though Raro Video did promise to release the 150 minute
version in the near future.
* The unrated version,
available in the U.S. and mainland Europe, running 156 minutes (NTSC) and 150
minutes (PAL). This is the most widely seen cut of the film. It enjoyed a
limited, albeit highly profitable, run in the American cinemas. This version
contained many scenes with extremely taboo, sexually, and violently explicit
content, including orgies, masturbation, fellatio, cunnilingus, anal fisting,
male and female homosexuality, cross-dressing and transvestism, sibling incest,
rape, male and female urination, decapitating prisoners using a lawn-mower-type
device (which is unlikely to have actually existed), unseen fratricide, penile
castration and unseen testi castration, and slamming a child on stone steps
like a rag doll. The film was highly
controversial and would certainly have received an X rating from the MPAA. The
U.S. DVD release of this version is available in a blue cover. In 2001, Dutch
FilmWorks (DFW) released a European region 2 uncut version of Caligula in
re-mastered form with a cleaner print. DFW released two editions; first, a
standard single DVD of the main feature, and a second, limited edition double
disc set including biographies of the actors, filmographies of the actors, a
"making of Caligula" featurette (55 mins), and a photo gallery.
Another 2 disc deluxe edition was released in France
early in 2003, containing improved image and audio quality.
* The UK version,
running 144 minutes. Aside from the removing 12 minutes of explicit footage,
the editors included some replacement shots, derived from Tinto Brass'
principal shoot, as well as remainder footage from Bob Guccione's re-shoots.
Just like the older Italian cut, this version is also out-of-print these days,
but is actively hunted for by various collectors.
* The rumored and
infamous 210-minute unreleased version, shown in a private screening in Cannes,
France (though not as part of the film festival). It is highly sought-after,
but no one has been able to locate a copy of this version, and is considered by
many to be simply an urban legend.
* Guccione eventually
authorized an R-rated cut released in 1981, 105 minutes long, which earned the
film wider distribution. Contrary to popular belief, majority of the cut
footage was that of various dramatic scenes, which many felt brought the pace
to a screeching halt (this was possibly due to the botched editing). In this
version all of the hardcore, bloody and violent footage was either trimmed or
replaced with yet another set of alternate shots and angles.
* In 1984, Franco
Rossellini, unhappy with Bob Guccione's final edit of the film, re-edited an
extended, pre-release print of Caligula, which may or may not have been the
infamous 210 minute version. This new edition of the
film, re-titled as Io, Caligola clocked in at 133 minutes and contained various
minor scenes and shots not present in any other versions of the film, but the
Italian censors had it cut down to an astonishing 86 minutes. However, after a
huge backlash, they allowed it to be brought up to 123 minutes. The missing ten
minutes are no doubt responsible for a few jump cuts that occur throughout the
film. This version has been released on DVD, but is available exclusively in
Italy.
* When Io, Caligola
was released on home video in the late eighties, the distributor put back in
some of the hardcore material shot by Bob Guccione (it was deleted at Franco
Rossellini's order) in order to boost the sales. This is the version that is
currently available on DVD.
* The second R-rated
version saw light in 1999. It was released straight to DVD and contained no
alternate angles. Various shots simply repeated themselves continuously instead
of using the different takes of scenes seen in the R-rated theatrical release,
causing numerous continuity problems and a disorienting, nauseating feel to the
viewers. The rest of the cuts and trims, however, were based on the 1981
censored release. This DVD version ran a total of 102 minutes and was released
with a red cover.
* A few months later,
the FilmFour channel, frustrated by the lack of any extended version of the
film available in the UK (only the low quality 1981 censored version was still
in print), released their own cut of Caligula, running approximately 140
minutes (the missing 16 minutes can be mostly attributed to the PAL
overspeeding and time compression.) It was essentially the same as the 156 minute version, but lacked all of Guccione's footage
(much to his anger). Those missing bits were the lesbian tryst and a handful of
sexual inserts during the imperial bordello sequence.
The new R-rated version, the 156-minute cut and the Io, Caligola
version have been released to DVD in various countries. The 1981 R-rated cut
was released briefly on DVD in the UK
The uncut Twentieth Anniversary Edition DVD was refused
classification in 2006 by Australia's OFLC effectively banning the film in its
uncensored form. The OFLC deemed the film too sexually explicit to fall within
the R18+ classification (despite sexually explicit mainstream films such as 9
Songs receiving this rating). The film could not be accommodated in the X
classification (for explicit sex) as it contains depictions of violence.
Although the film's sexual content was permissible in the X category, the
OFLC's classification guidelines unambiguously state "No depiction of
violence... is allowed in the category" [1].
Critical reaction:
The film was heavily panned by critics; Roger Ebert gave it zero
stars, describing it as "sickening, utterly worthless, shameful
trash"; a generation later it remained on the list of his most hated films
(he also mentioned walking out of the theatre in the middle of it). Both Peter
O'Toole and Malcolm McDowell have since expressed regret in participating in
the film. The director, Tinto Brass, disowned the film altogether, since it was
taken out of his hands and given to Giancarlo Lui, to complete the editing.
Writer Gore Vidal also disowned the film, but that happened much earlier than
the incident with Brass and for an entirely different reason: Vidal and Brass
had major creative differences over the subject matter, and though both had
strong ideas concerning Caligula's reasons and motivations behind his madness,
neither could find a common ground. The majority of those behind the film
backed Tinto Brass, which infuriated Gore Vidal, who left the project,
bad-mouthing the entire production. Whatever intellectual heft Vidal's writing
and research would have given the production is notably absent from the
finished version, since it was re-written into a somewhat fictionalized
political fable by Brass and McDowell, which, in turn, was deleted by Bob
Guccione and Giancarlo Lui during the editing process.
Cast
* Malcolm McDowell --
Caligula
* Peter O'Toole --
Tiberius
* Paolo Bonacelli --
Cassius Chaerea
* John Gielgud --
Nerva
* Helen Mirren --
Caesonia
* Teresa Ann Savoy --
Drusilla
* Lori Wagner --
Agrippina
* Anneka di Lorenzo --
Messalina
* John Steiner --
Longinus
As would be the case with Commodus 120 years later, after
he was assassinated Caligula was savaged by Roman era "historians" in
the employ of his enemies. There is
little independent evidence that anything they wrote about his depravity and
violence is true. – tkw
Caligula
From
http://www.roman-emperors.org/gaius.htm
Gaius
Caesar Augustus Germanicus (b. A.D. 12, d. A.D. 41, emperor A.D. 37-41)
represents a turning point in the early history of the Principate.
Unfortunately, his is the most poorly documented reign of the Julio-Claudian
dynasty. The literary sources for these four years are meager, frequently
anecdotal, and universally hostile.[[1]] As a result, not only are many
of the events of the reign unclear, but Gaius himself appears more as a
caricature than a real person, a crazed megalomaniac given to capricious
cruelty and harebrained schemes. Although some headway can be made in disentangling
truth from embellishment, the true character of the youthful emperor will
forever elude us.
Early
Life and Reign:
Gaius
was born on 31 August, A.D. 12, probably at the Julio-Claudian resort of Antium
(modern Anzio), the third of six children born to Augustus's adopted grandson, Germanicus, and Augustus's granddaughter, Agrippina. As a baby he accompanied
his parents on military campaigns in the north and was shown to the troops
wearing a miniature soldier's outfit, including the hob-nailed sandal called caliga, whence the nickname by which
posterity remembers him.[[2]] His childhood was not a happy
one, spent amid an atmosphere of paranoia, suspicion, and murder. Instability
within the Julio-Claudian house, generated by uncertainty over the succession,
led to a series of personal tragedies. When his father died under suspicious
circumstances on 10 October A.D. 19, relations between his mother and his
grand-uncle, the emperor Tiberius, deteriorated irretrievably,
and the adolescent Gaius was sent to live first with his great-grandmother Livia in A.D. 27 and then, following Livia's death two years later, with
his grandmother Antonia. Shortly
before the fall of Tiberius's Praetorian
Prefect, Sejanus, in A.D. 31 he was summoned to join Tiberius at his villa on Capri, where
he remained until his accession in A.D. 37. In the interim, his two brothers
and his mother suffered demotion and, eventually, violent death. Throughout
these years, the only position of administrative responsibility Gaius held was
an honorary quaestorship in A.D. 33. [[3]]
When Tiberius died on 16 March A.D. 37,
Gaius was in a perfect position to assume power, despite the obstacle of Tiberius's will, which named him and
his cousin Tiberius Gemellus
joint heirs. (Gemellus's life was shortened considerably by this bequest, since
Gaius ordered him killed within a matter of months.) Backed by the Praetorian
Prefect Q. Sutorius Macro, Gaius asserted his dominance. He had Tiberius's will declared null and void
on grounds of insanity, accepted the powers of the Principate as conferred by
the Senate, and entered Rome on 28 March amid scenes of wild rejoicing. His
first acts were generous in spirit: he paid Tiberius's bequests and gave a cash
bonus to the Praetorian Guard, the first recorded donativum to troops in imperial history. He honored his father and
other dead relatives and publicly destroyed Tiberius's personal papers, which no
doubt implicated many of the Roman elite in the destruction of Gaius's
immediate family. Finally, he recalled exiles and reimbursed those wronged by
the imperial tax system [[4]]. His popularity was immense. Yet
within four years he lay in a bloody heap in a palace corridor, murdered by
officers of the very guard entrusted to protect him. What went wrong?
Gaius's
"Madness":
The
ancient sources are practically unanimous as to the cause of Gaius's downfall:
he was insane. The writers differ as to how this condition came about, but all
agree that after his good start Gaius began to behave in an openly autocratic
manner, even a crazed one. [[5]] Outlandish stories cluster about
the raving emperor, illustrating his excessive cruelty, immoral sexual
escapades, or disrespect toward tradition and the Senate. The sources describe
his incestuous relations with his sisters, laughable military campaigns in the
north, the building of a pontoon bridge across the Bay at Baiae, and the plan
to make his horse a consul. [[6]] Modern scholars have pored over
these incidents and come up with a variety of explanations: Gaius suffered from
an illness; he was misunderstood; he was corrupted by power; or, accepting the
ancient evidence, they conclude that he was mad.[[7]] However, appreciating the nature
of the ancient sources is crucial when approaching this issue. Their unanimous
hostility renders their testimony suspect, especially since Gaius's reported
behavior fits remarkably well with that of the ancient tyrant, a literary type
enshrined in Greco-Roman tradition centuries before his reign. Further, the
only eye-witness account of Gaius's behavior, Philo's Embassy to Gaius, offers little evidence of outright insanity,
despite the antagonism of the author, whom Gaius treated with the utmost
disrespect. Rather, he comes across as aloof, arrogant, egotistical, and
cuttingly witty -- but not insane. The best explanation both for Gaius's
behavior and the subsequent hostility of the sources is that he was an inexperienced
young man thrust into a position of unlimited power, the true nature of which
had been carefully disguised by its founder, Augustus. Gaius, however, saw through
the disguise and began to act accordingly. This, coupled with his troubled
upbringing and almost complete lack of tact led to behavior that struck his
contemporaries as extreme, even insane.
Gaius
and the Empire:
Gaius's
reign is too short, and the surviving ancient accounts too sensationalized, for
any serious policies of his to be discerned. During his reign, Mauretania was
annexed and reorganized into two provinces, Herod Agrippa was appointed to a
kingdom in Palestine, and severe riots took place in Alexandria between Jews
and Greeks. These events are largely overlooked in the sources, since they
offer slim pickings for sensational stories of madness. [[8]] Two other episodes, however,
garner greater attention: Gaius's military activities on the northern frontier,
and his vehement demand for divine honors. His military activities are
portrayed as ludicrous, with Gauls dressed up as Germans at his triumph and
Roman troops ordered to collect sea-shells as "spoils of the sea."
Modern scholars have attempted to make sense of these events in various ways.
The most reasonable suggestion is that Gaius went north to earn military glory
and discovered there a nascent conspiracy under the commander of the Upper
German legions, Cn. Lentulus Gaetulicus. The subsequent events are shrouded in
uncertainty, but it is known that Gaetulicus and Gaius's brother-in-law, M.
Aemilius Lepidus, were executed and Gaius's two surviving sisters, implicated
in the plot, suffered exile. [[9]] Gaius's enthusiasm for divine
honors for himself and his favorite sister, Drusilla (who died suddenly in A.D.
38 and was deified), is presented in the sources as another clear sign of his
madness, but it may be no more than the young autocrat tactlessly pushing the
limits of the imperial cult, already established under Augustus. Gaius's excess
in this regard is best illustrated by his order that a statue of him be erected
in the Temple at Jerusalem. Only the delaying tactics of the Syrian governor, P.
Petronius, and the intervention of Herod Agrippa prevented riots and a
potential uprising in Palestine. [[10]]
Conspiracy
and Assassination:
The
conspiracy that ended Gaius's life was hatched among the officers of the
Praetorian Guard, apparently for purely personal reasons. It appears also to
have had the support of some senators and an imperial freedman. [[11]] As with conspiracies in
general, there are suspicions that the plot was more broad-based than the
sources intimate, and it may even have enjoyed the support of the next emperor Claudius, but these propositions are
not provable on available evidence. On 24 January A.D. 41 the praetorian
tribune Cassius Chaerea and other guardsmen caught Gaius alone in a secluded
palace corridor and cut him down. He was 28 years old and had ruled three years
and ten months. [[12]]
Conclusion:
Whatever
damage Tiberius's later years
had done to the carefully crafted political edifice created by Augustus, Gaius multiplied it a
hundredfold. When he came to power in A.D. 37 Gaius had no administrative
experience beyond his honorary quaestorship, and had spent an unhappy early
life far from the public eye. He appears, once in power, to have realized the
boundless scope of his authority and acted accordingly. For the elite, this
situation proved intolerable and ensured the blackening of Caligula's name in
the historical record they would dictate. The sensational and hostile nature of
that record, however, should in no way trivialize Gaius's importance. His reign
highlighted an inherent weakness in the Augustan Principate, now openly
revealed for what it was -- a raw monarchy in which only the self-discipline of
the incumbent acted as a restraint on his behavior. That the only means of
retiring the wayward princeps was
murder marked another important revelation: Roman emperors could not relinquish
their powers without simultaneously relinquishing their lives.
Bibliography
The
bibliography on Gaius is far too vast for comprehensive citation here. Most of
the ancient material can be found in Gelzer and Smallwood. Ample reference to
relevant secondary works is made in Barrett, Caligula (319-28) and Hurley (219-30). The works listed below are
therefore either the main treatments of Gaius or are directly pertinent to the
issues discussed in the entry above.
Balsdon,
J.P.V.D. The Emperor Gaius. Oxford,
1934.
________.
"The Principates of Tiberius and Gaius." ANRW 2.2 (1975): 86-94.
Barrett,
A.A. Caligula: The Corruption of Power.
New Haven, 1989.
________.
Agrippina. Sex, Power, and Politics in
the Early Empire. New Haven, 1996.
Benediktson,
D.T. "Caligula's Madness: Madness or Interictal Temporal Lobe
Epilepsy?" Classical World 82
(1988-89), 370-5.
Bicknell,
P. "The Emperor Gaius' Military Activities in AD 40." Historia 17 (1968): 496-505.
Bilde,
P. "The Roman Emperor Gaius (Caligula)'s Attempt to Erect his Statue in
the Temple of Jerusalem." STh 32
(1978): 67-93.
Boschung,
D. Die Bildnisse des Caligula.
Berlin, 1989.
Charlesworth,
M.P. "The Tradition About Caligula" Cambridge Historical Journal 4 (1933): 105-119.
Davies,
R.W. "The Abortive Invasion of Britain by Gaius." Historia 15 (1966): 124-28.
D'Ecré,
F. "La mort de Germanicus et les poisons de Caligula." Janus 56 (1969): 123-48.
Ferrill,
A. Caligula, Emperor of Rome. London,
1991.
Gelzer,
M. "Iulius Caligula." Real-Enzyclopädie
10.381-423 (1919).
Grant,
M. The Roman Emperors. A Biographical
Guide to the Rulers of Imperial Rome 31 BC - AD 476 (New York, 1985),
25-28.
Hurley,
D.W. "Gaius Caligula in the Germanicus Tradition." American Journal of Philology 110
(1989): 316-38.
________. An Historical and Historiographical Commentary on
Suetonius' Life of C. Caligula.
Atlanta, 1993.
Jerome,
T.S. "The Historical Tradition About Gaius," in id., Aspects of the Study of Roman History.
New York, 1923.
Katz,
R.S. "The Illness of Caligula." Classical
World 65 (1971-72): 223-5
McGinn,
T.A.J. "Caligula's Brothel on the Palatine," EMC 42 (1998): 95-107.
Massaro,
V. and I. Montgomery. "Gaius: Mad Bad, Ill or All Three?" Latomus 37 (1978): 894-909
________.
"Gaius (Caligula) Doth Murder Sleep." Latomus 38 (1979): 699-700.
Maurer,
J. A. A Commentary on C. Suetoni
Tranquilli, Vita C. Caligulae Caesaris, Chapters I-XXI. Philadelphia, 1949.
Morgan,
M.G. "Caligula's Illness Again." Classical
World 66 (1972-73): 327-9
Philips,
E.J. "The Emperor Gaius' Abortive Invasion of Britain." Historia 19 (1970): 369-74.
Simpson,
C. J. "The 'Conspiracy' of AD 39." In Studies in Latin Literature and Roman History II, edited by C.
Deroux, 347-66. Brussels, 1980.
Smallwood,
E.M. (ed.). Documents Illustrating the
Principates of Gaius, Claudius and Nero. Cambridge. 1967.
Wardle,
D. Suetonius' Life of Caligula: A Commentary. Brussels, 1994.
Woods,
D. "Caligula's Seashells." Greece
and Rome 47 (2000): 80-87.
Wood,
S. "Diva Drusilla Panthea and the Sisters of Caligula." AJA 99 (1995): 457-82.
NOTES
[[1]]
The main ancient sources for Gaius's reign are: Suet. Gaius; Dio 59; Philo In Flaccum and Legatio ad Gaium; Jos. AJ 19.1-211. Tacitus's account of the
reign is lost. However, he makes occasional references to Gaius in the extant
portions of his works, as does Seneca. All of these sources have reason to be
hostile to Gaius's memory: Seneca's style was roundly abused by the emperor
(Suet. Gaius 53.2; Dio 59.19.7-8);
Philo and Josephus, as Jews, resented Gaius's blasphemous demands for divinity
that almost roused Palestine to rebellion (see above, Gaius and the Empire); and the later
sources inherited a tradition about Gaius that can be shown to be biased and
exaggerated, cf. Charlesworth, "The Tradition about Gaius." Besides
these literary sources, inscriptions and coins also offer some information, see
Smallwood, Documents Illustrating.
[[2]]
Tac. Ann. 1.41.3; Suet. Gaius 9.1.
[[3]]
Death of Germanicus and aftermath: Tac. Ann.
2.69-3.19; Gaius with Livia, Antonia, and Tiberius: Tac. Ann. 6.20.1; Suet. Gaius 10.1, 23.2; fate of Agrippina: Tac. Ann. 5.3.2 - 5.5.2, 6.25.1; and of Nero
and Drusus Caesar: Tac. Ann. 5.3.2,
6.23.4-5, Suet. Tib. 54, Gaius 7; Gaius's quaestorship: Dio
58.23.1. For the alleged involvement of Gaius in his father's death, see
D'Ecré, "La mort de Germanicus."
[[4]]
Early reign and first acts: Suet. Gaius
13-16; Philo Leg. 8-13; Dio 59.2-3.
Macro's full name: Smallwood, Documents
Illustrating, no. 254. Date of Gaius's arrival in Rome: Acta Fratrum Arvalium (Smallwood, Documents Illustrating, no. 3.15-17).
Gemellus: Suet. Gaius 14.1, 15.2,
23.3; Dio 59.1.2-3, 59.8.1-2; Philo Leg.
23-31.
[[5]]
Seneca, without explanation, believes he went mad (Brev. 18.5-6; Helv. 10.4;
Tranqu. 14.5; Ben. 7.11.2). Josephus also thinks that Gaius went mad but alludes
to a love-potion administered by his wife Caesonia as the cause (AJ 19.193), apparently after two years
of good rule (AJ 18.256). Philo
blames an illness in the fall of A.D. 37 (Leg.
14-22). Suetonius mentions simply a "brain sickness" (valitudo mentis; Gaius 51.1). Dio thinks that faults of character led to a
deterioration in his behavior (59.3-4). Surviving references suggest that
Tacitus thought Gaius at least of troubled and impulsive mind, which is not the
same thing as crazed (Agr. 13.2; Ann. 6.20.1, 6.45.5, 13.3.6; Hist. 4.48.2).
[[6]]
Incest: Suet. Gaius 24.1; Dio 59.3.6;
Jos. AJ 19.204. Military campaigns:
Tac. Hist. 4.15.3, Germania 37.5, Suet. Gaius 43-46, Dio 59.21.1-3. Bridge at
Baiae: Suet. Gaius 19; Dio 59.17;
Jos. AJ 19.5-6. Horse as consul:
Suet. Gaius 55.3; Dio 59.14.7; His
alleged setting up of a brothel in the palace may contain a kernel of truth,
even if the story is much embellished, see T.A.J. McGinn, "Caligula's
Brothel on the Palatine," EMC 42
(1998): 95-107.
[[7]]
Alcoholism: Jerome, "Historical Tradition";
hyperthyroidism/thyrotoxicos: Katz, "Illness of Caligula"; mania:
Massaro and Montgomery, "Gaius: Mad, Bad, Ill or All Three" and
"Gaius (Caligula) Doth Murder Sleep"; epilepsy: Benediktson,
"Caligula's Madness." Morgan ("Caligula's Illness Again")
makes some astute observations on the weakness of the medical approach as a
whole. He points out that the ancient concept of physiognomy -- that people's
characters are manifest in their appearance -- makes any diagnosis highly
suspect. In fact, all such medical explanations are doomed to failure. The
sources simply cannot be trusted, and diagnosing a patient 2,000 years dead is,
at best, a stretch. Balsdon (The Emperor
Gaius) argued that Gaius was misunderstood and attempted to offer rational
explanations for all of his apparently deranged antics. A useful summary and
critique of "madness" theories is to be found in Barrett, Caligula, 213-41. For a recent
acceptance of the madness thesis, cf. Ferrill, Caligula, Emperor of Rome.
[[8]]
Mauretania: Dio 59.25.1; see also Barrett, Caligula,
115-20. Agrippa: Jos. AJ 18.228-37;
Phil Leg. 324-26; see also E. M.
Smallwood, The Jews under Roman Rule
(Leiden, 1976), 187-200. Alexandrian riots: Philo Flacc and Leg.
[[9]]
Fake Germans in triumph: Suet. Gaius
47. Military campaigns: see above, note [6]. For modern rationalizations of
these campaigns, cf., e.g., Bicknell, "Military Activities"; Davies,
"Abortive Invasion"; Philips, "Abortive Invasion"; Barrett,
Caligula, 125-39, and Woods,
"Caligula's Seashells.". Execution of Gaetulicus and exile of
sisters: the Gaetulicus affair is ably assessed in Barrett, Caligula, 91-113, and id. Agrippina, 60-70; for a contrasting
view, see Simpson, "The 'Conspiracy' of AD 39."
[[10]]
The Jerusalem affair is described most fully by Josephus (AJ 18.261-309; BJ
2.184-203) and Philo (Leg. 188,
198-348). Thorough modern assessments can be found in Barrett, Caligula, 188-91, cf. 140-53 (on Gaius's
demand for divine honours, which Barrett argues are exaggerated by the
sources); Bilde "Statue in the Temple"; and Smallwood, Jews (above, note [8]), 174-80. Drusilla: Suet. Gaius 24.2-3; Dio 59.11; Smallwood, Documents Illustrating, nos 5.12-15, 11,
128, 401.12; Wood, "Diva Drusilla."
[[11]]
The named Praetorian conspirators include three tribunes -- Cassius Chaerea
(Suet. Gaius 56.2; Dio 59.29.1; Sen. Const. 18.3; Jos. AJ 19.18, 21, 28-37); Cornelius Sabinus (Suet. Gaius 58.2; Dio 59.29.1; Jos. AJ
19.46, 48, 261); Papinius (Jos. AJ
19.37) -- and the Prefect M. Arrecinus Clemens (Jos. AJ 19.37-46). Senators associated with the plot are M. Annius
Vinicianus (Jos. AJ 19.18, 20,
49-51), M. Valerius Asiaticus (Tac. Ann.
11.1.2), Cluvius Rufus and L. Nonius Asprenas (Jos. AJ 19.91-92, 98). Gaius's freedman Callistus is also a named
participant (Tac. Ann. 11.29.1; Dio
29.29.1; Jos. AJ 19.63-69).
[[12]]
The possible involvement of Claudius in the plot is assessed by B. Levick, Claudius (New Haven, 1990), 33-39. The
fullest account of the assassination is that of Josephus (AJ 19.70-113), with more summary accounts found in Suetonius (Gaius 58) and the epitome of Dio
(59.29.5-7).
0801Satyricon1.doc
From http://www.culturecourt.com/F/Fellini/FSat.htm
By Lawrence Russell
Fellini Satyricon (1969) dir. Frederico Fellini writ. Fellini
and Bernardino Zapponi (based on the writings of Petronious) cine. Giuseppe
Rotunno sets Danilo Donati and Luigi Caccianoce music Nino Rota, Ilhan
Mimaroght, Tod Dockstader, Andrew Rudin star. Martin Potter (Encolpio), Hiram
Keller (Ascylite), Max Born (Gitone), Salvo Randone (Eumolpo the Poet), Il Moro
(Trimalcione), Magali Noel (Fortunata), Capucine (Trifena), Alain Cuny (Lica),
Fanfulla (Vernacchio), Luigi Montefiori (Minotaur), Joseph Wheeler (suicide:
Petronius), Lucia Bose (suicide: P's wife), et. al.
figures in a fresco
The "theatre effect" is often the sign of primitivism
in film drama -- except when it's Orson Welles or Frederico Fellini.
Satyricon's sets are spectacular, neo-modernist constructions that combine both
the pictographic art of the past with the angular sensibility of the present.
Characters declaim their lines to phantoms beyond the screen or to decadent
aristocrats in the burlesques that are frequently featured within the
playhouses, feasts, tombs, temples and the other venues that carry the action
of this mythical adventure.
The film begins with the "hero" Encolpio (Martin
Potter) monologuing in front of a fresco, bemoaning his fate:
Encolpio: The earth has not dragged me into the abyss... nor has
the tempestuous sea engulfed me... I have fled from justice, from the arena...
I have even stained my hands with blood... to end up here, banished and
abandoned.... Who was it that condemned me to this solitude? He who knows every
vice... who himself admits he deserves banishment: Ascylitus!
Who is he speaking to? The obsolete convention of live theatre
is resurrected by Fellini in order to break the alienation between the viewer
and the subject, thus moving away from the aesthetic of cinematic voyeurism
into audience complicity.
It's a clever directive, one which establishes not only the
dramatic method but also the visual style. An atmosphere of history is integral
to the audience's acceptance of the story. Proceeding as if the world is an art
gallery is often the kiss of death in drama, but under Fellini's direction it's
a brilliant fugue of modern expressionism and interpretative mythology.
Fellini Satyricon: Encolpio
"In Satyricon, I was influenced by the look of frescoes. At
the end, these people, whose lives were so real to them, are now only crumbling
frescoes." (Fellini)
Encolpio: student, pretty boy bisexual adventurer, and creature
of fortune whose present misery is due to the theft of his boy lover Gitone by
his friend and fellow student, Ascylitus. We are also introduced to Ascylitus
(Hiram Keller) by way of a monologue and quickly learn that he's no
sentimentalist:
Ascylitus: (hoarsely) Encolpio is looking for me, he wants
revenge. (gloats) Friendship lasts as long as it is convenient.
They fight, and Encolpio holds Ascylitus's head over a steaming
culvert.
Encolpio: Where is Gitone?
Ascylitus: (gasping) I sold him to Vernacchio the actor...
Their dispute over the boy-toy Gitone (Max Born) is another one
of those peculiar passions that make love an illness, sex a disease. Gitone is
a treacherous little ponce whose affections are political rather than
spiritual, so we are forced to consider him as a symbol of Encolpio's cruel
Fortune. While Encolpio's fascination with Gitone is pathetic, the masochism is
part of the complexity of his friendship with A.
"Because of the picture's open, non-judgemental portrayal
of homosexuality, some journalists seized upon the tempting notion that I
myself must be a homosexual or at least bisexual...." (Fellini)
In one of the many great scenes, Encolpio confronts Vernacchio
(Fanfulla), the actor who bought the boy and is training him for female roles
("Helen of Troy, the faithful Penelope, Cornelia..."). Typical of the
Roman arts in the time of Nero, Vernacchio's playhouse stages not only obscene
farces but also the "theatre of the real thing" -- a blasphemer has
his hand chopped off as part of the evening's entertainment. The audience
laughs at Encolpio's attempt to regain Gitone, begin bidding for him. But a
Senator intervenes, and Encolpio is allowed to lead Gitone away.
They wander the city, which is a warren of the grotesque, a
bizarre brothel, a merchant mall of the unconscious. A huge head is being
dragged through an alley, a nightmare from a beheading, or an icon of the local
Caesar (the megalomaniacal Trimalchio, as it later develops). They retire to
Encolpio's room, make love, but in the morning are found by Ascylitus. Instead
of fighting, they decide to go their separate ways, split their possessions,
but when asked who he wants to be with, the faithless Gitone chooses Ascylitus.
Encolpio barely has time to dwell upon this treachery when an earthquake hits,
and the city collapses, blocks splitting from the huge dream walls, burying
citizens, animals and the collective memory.
Cut to: an art gallery that looks perhaps a little too chic for
the ancient world, but nonetheless sustains the film's neo-primitivist/moderno
style. Here Encolpio meets up with the poet Eumolpus (Salvo Randone), an older
gentleman, also down on his luck. As the camera patrols the hangings:
Eumolpus: The masters in this gallery... are indicative of the
apathy of our times. Nobody paints like this anymore.
Encolpio: What caused this decadence?
Eumolpus: Lust of money...
How did you get here? While the continuity is outstanding in
terms of tone, the narrative progression is difficult to comprehend unless one
is familiar with Petronius, recognizes the stories, the characters and the
Fellini fictions. This isn't a major problem, as the action exists as a Fellini
expressionism as much as it is a history, is a literature. Petronius' Satyricon
is also a collection of fragments, memories of the original work, an incomplete
oeuvre, like the plays of Sophocles or the writings of Cicero. In this sense
Fellini's narrative imagery is internal, fragments of music from the id.
The next major scene is the feast at Trimalchio's, another
Caesar who considers himself a poet, wit, bon vivant -- a subject of envy,
contempt and rage from Eumolpus. The scene is raw, the characters coarse, the action bizarre to the point of revulsion.
Eumolpus and Encolpio watch, participate, but are really observers in this
casual orgy of sexual theatre, gluttony, and megalomania.
The aging Trimalchio (Il Moro), who, like Truman Capote, can do
anything at his party, humiliates his slaves and his guests as dwarves stagger
in with smoldering cauldrons of flesh -- ambiguous torsos from ambiguous
creatures in an ambiguous universe. A pig is brought forth, gutted, releasing
an avalanche of hens, snails, pigeons -- verily, all the small animals and fowl
of the known world. The guests drink, dance, insult one another under a huge
icon of the host. Trimalchio's belches, farts, snores are decoded as maxims of
wisdom and divinations by a vulpine secretary. At one point
Trimalchio denounces the drunken Eumolpus for having stolen his verses, orders
that he be thrown into the ovens. Eumolpus is dragged up the steps to these
open pits of hell, but allowed to retreat, intimidated and debased. Trimalchio
is a tyrant of the flesh, the soul -- a tumorous ego.
His feast is a farce, as is the next scene, his rehearsal for
death -- a play-within-the-play which is an existential homage to the occult.
The party adjourns to the plutocrat's tomb, a Roman theatre-set
of heavy megalithic blocks, a stone garden of the soul. Here Trimalchio
rehearses his funeral and internment, has his guests weep and deliver their
sycophantic perorations as he lies smugly in the vault.
Telescoping the narrative within itself even further, Fellini
now inserts the story of The Matron of Ephesus. A beautiful widow makes love to
a young soldier who has been guarding a crucified thief on a nearby ridge. When
the body of the thief is stolen, the widow aids her lover by replacing the
thief with the body of her husband... which allows Trimalchio to proclaim his
grandest witticism, "Better to hang a dead husband than a living
lover."
Thus Fellini uses the theatre-effect to cobble together an episodic
narrative that has the spacial architecture of consciousness, an anecdotal
progression of memory, cause, and effect. Art can't exist without history. It
exists as a perception of the Past, which in turn becomes an anticipation of
the Future.
"It was like speculating about life on Mars, but with the
help of a Martian, so Satyricon satisfied in me some of my desire to make a
science-fiction film." (Fellini)
Now the dynamic changes, moving away from the closed, interior
city sets of perpetual night into the open, exterior landscape of the ocean and
the unknown. The transition here is thrilling, like arriving on another planet
-- albeit as a prisoner.
A huge barge sits on the ocean, its black hulk a fantastic
metaphor of evil, a contradiction in the face of Nature. The V.O. by Encolpio
tells us "we had been taken prisoner by the
terrible Lichas of Tarantum." By "we" he means himself, his
friend Ascylitus and toy-boy Gitone. How? It doesn't really matter. As Encolpio
moves, so goes his nightmare, so goes his fate.
These sequences are among the most brilliantly executed in all
film drama to date. The photographic compositions isolate Nature and exalt the
machine. The screen is sectionized into the geometrics of ocean horizon and the
raised oars of the slave galley -- dramatic simplicities that give imaginative
and emotional depth to the historical reality. No matter how fantastic the
characters and their actions, there's a raw authenticity continuously seeping
from the expressionism. This, says Fellini, is how it was.
The bowels of this war barge are a hellhole of chained slaves
working the huge chorus of oars as acrobats perform on the walkway between the
bulkheads, musicans play lyres in droning harmony with the pitch and yawl...
and Gitone sings in the tradition of the Arabic boy soprano. The master Lichas
(Alain Cuny) amuses himself and his cast of cutthroats and slaves by wrestling
selected victims in a sexual overture to death. His insane, reptilian eyes turn
to Encolpio:
Lichas: (rasps) Come to me, O tender fawn...
The androgynous Encolpio is no match for the sadistic Lichas.
But instead of snapping his neck, Lichas' death embrace becomes one of love.
"What eyes, what clear blue eyes," he intones as he pins Encolpio to
the deck and kisses him. And this is no mere one-night stand -- Lichas and
Encolpio are married in a hastily convened ceremony on the top deck and
celebrate their love with the slaughter of a young calf. Lichas wears a veil in
a peculiar gesture of submission and dominance, as if he is both male and female,
his homosexuality a primal twining, an omnivore from the deep.
Time passes... the ship is seen passing through sleet and snow.
A sea-monster is captured, raised to the deck, butchered. Then, as they draw
close to the island where the young Caesar has his home, armed vessels surround
them. As they watch, the young Caesar is hunted along the shoreline onto the
sculptured white rocks where, cornered, he draws his sword and kills himself.
His body is then impaled on a pike to the cries of "The Tyrant is
dead!" The invaders confront Lichas on his ship, sneer, "We've
drowned your emperor like a pig!" A sword is drawn and -- in one of those
cinematic moments you forever recall in your dreams -- Lichas is decapitated,
his head flying into the ocean where it sinks beneath the waves, his broken
eyes rolled upwards in a frozen moment of ecstasy.
You last see Gitone being hustled away ("We'll keep
him") as you expect Encolpio and Ascylitus to either die or remain in
chains. But no... here Fellini changes the mood dynamic again.
You see an enclave bounded by a rock face, a sand garden
adjoining the villa of Petronius, which is where he slits his wrists after
freeing his slaves and sending away his children. You don't know it's
Petronius, although Fellini has said elsewhere that's who it is. Does this
matter? You know suicide was a Roman option, an occultic solution to a
political fait accompli. Again, the episodic narrative emulates dream,
articulates history.
In this broken paradise of softly falling water, chirping birds
and frescos, they find a beautiful Ethiopian slave girl hiding in her kennel,
share her for the night. Encolpio awakens at dawn to sound of departing
horsemen, and the roar of flames. The bodies of Petronius and his wife are
being immolated on their funeral pyre.
Cut To: Another desolate landscape where the wind stirs the dust
around some tethered horses near a covered wagon. This is the encampment of the
Nymphomaniac, who lies bound in the wagon, writhing in a perpetual state of
indiscriminate arousal. Her position is more cruciform than missionary, her
desire more occultic than mad. A crone tells them her husband is taking her to
the "Hermaphrodite" at the oracle for a "cure"... but in
the meantime he would be pleased if the young men would help soothe his wife's hermetic
fever. Forever the incorrigible opportunist, Ascylite is only too happy to
oblige, and he mounts the Nymphomaniac in an act that simulates ecstasy, but
seals his fate.
They journey with the husband to the Oracle. The plan is to
steal the Hermaphrodite, a sickly grotesque who lies in a crib beside the
healing pool in the cave. The Hermaphrodite is a transgendered being who
mirrors our origins, realizes our fears, fixes myth with biological fact. All
come to this "demigod" seeking a cure for what ails them. War
amputees, seniles, the insane... and the wandering voyeurs of history. Encolpio
stabs and kills the old man who is the Hermaphrodite's guardian, and the trio
flee with this sacred creature lodged on a hand cart. But like some fragile
experiment from the stud farm, the Hermaphrodite dies, and the nympho's
husband, enraged, attacks Encolpio and Ascylitus.
What now? Fellini's complex, episodic narrative continues to
scroll.
Somehow Encolpio finds himself rolling down a slope into a crude
arena, the lair of the Minotar. And, true to form, his "friend"
Ascylitus is somehow the grinning intimate of the Caesar and his entourage who
will watch this piece of mythological theatre. The Minotar is a seven foot giant wearing a bull-ram headpiece, and awaits
his trophy in his labyrinth. Once again Encolpio finds himself on-stage against
his will.
He escapes death by appealing to the Minotar's humanity:
Encolpio: Dear Minotar, I will love you if you set me free...
The Minotar removes his headpiece, smiles, laughs, addresses the
crowd:
Minotar: (to the pro-Consul) This isn't cowardice... it's the
commonsense of an educated youth!
They embrace and instead of being killed, Encolpio is given
Ariadne, a trophy harlot who lies willing and able on a stone bed nearby. But
Encolpio finds himself incapable of performing and is tossed contemptuously
into the surrounding trench by the disgruntled Ariadne. And as he crawls out,
who should appear on a travelling litter, reborn as a wealthy noble with an
entourage of women? His old mentor Eumolpus, The Poet... in a crazy reversal of
Fortune that makes him the heir of Trimalchio!
They retire to Eumolpus' harem, a fantasy quadrangle of the
senses. Encolpio has his bum smacked by a bevy of voluptuaries in a futile
attempt to restore his potency as Ascylitus stands arrogantly on a giant swing,
riding it back and forth in a vulgar foreplay as infantile as it is theatrical.
This respite -- like an interlude from One Thousand and One Nights -- is brief,
and presently Encolpio journeys beyond the Great Swamps in search of the Witch
who will restore his lost sexuality.
Oenothea is a plump negress, another vagina on a slab. Her magic
is to morph into fire in a basic metaphor of potency. Once again Encolpio is
invited to perform -- and this time he seems to have better luck. As Ascylitus
lingers outside by the river bank, he is attacked and killed by a man who might
be the Nymphomaniac's husband or merely a bandit who preys on the clients of
the Witch. Ascylitus calls out to Encolpio as he's fatally stabbed, then
mysteriously enters the Witch's cave, urges Encolpio to leave. Delighted with
his restored powers, Encolpio follows the ghost, finds Ascylitus dead in the
saw grass. The incident is contradictory, occultic, and left unexplained. The
scene closes with the shocked Encolpio framed against a solitary stone
megalith.
The final episode sees Encolpio encounter a ship heading for
Africa. The Master lies dead on the shore, surrounded by crates, friends and
retainers. The Master's will is read, the lucky
inheritors told that they will have to eat his body if they want to share in
his wealth. Meanwhile the crew invites Encolpio to join them, and as they run
happily over the dunes towards the ship, the Master's body is eaten. Although
there's no Christian intent, the situation appeals to the cynical who will
recall The Last Supper.
The film ends with Encolpio's V.O. telling of his odyssey, the
islands, the cities... then, in a lap-dissolve, he and his friends
transmogrify, become figures in a fresco on a broken wall in a set of ruins.
"'What a pity,' some archaeologist laments, upon viewing
something called Fellini's Satyricon. 'It seems to be missing its beginning,
middle and end. It is so strange... what kind of man could this Fellini have
been? Perhaps he was mad.'"
Fellini's narrative has an interesting image/symbol sub-text,
one which integrates the action in a series of loops. There is the head, at
first a mysterious icon in the street, later a mural at the Feast of
Trimalchio, finally the severed head of Lichas sinking below the waves. Lichas
is first seen wearing an animal head piece, a totemic mask similar to that worn
by the Minotar. There's the white horse, sleeping on its feet in a sunken court
prior to the earthquake, a thing of beauty and innocence in a city of
polymorphic decadence. Horses recur in elegant pursuit of the horizon or in
captive poses, more beautiful than the human, closer to the Gods, never
grotesque, never decadent. Women on their backs: the Nymphomaniac, Ariadne, the
Witch. Always on altars, sexual transponders of Fortune and reincarnation. And
the frescoes....
paganism: religious order and the secularization of form
The pagan form is episodic, mythical, anthropomorphic, open. The
religious form is determinist, codified, atomic, closed. Fellini Satyricon is
the perfect post-modern testament, a de-construction of the determinist model
in which the hero is the author of his fate in favor of the episodic model
where Fate is a subject of Fortune etc. By interpreting the past, it predicts
the future: the end of religious order, the secularization of Form. When a
priest posted a black edged bulletin of the door of his church denouncing
Fellini as a sinner, he was responding instinctively to the heresy of art and
the fatal movement of history. But Fellini is only the messenger, not the
messiah.
*Fellini quotes from I, Fellini by Charlotte Chandler
Gaius Petronius (~27-66 A.D.), the author of the Satyricon, was
the emperor Nero's advisor in matters of luxury and extravagance (his
unofficial title was arbiter elegantiae). As befitted his office, he slept days
and partied nights. He was a lover of style, manners, and literature, and his
personality was characterized by freedom, a lack of self-consciousness, a loose
tongue, and an attitude. A rival's jealousy turned Nero against Petronius, and
he was forced to commit suicide. However, before his death, he lampooned Nero
in his will and sent the emperor a copy.
The emperor Nero was interested in literature and art,
especially theater. He fancied himself as a sort of reincarnation of Apollo,
and liked to display his talents and be praised. His artistic obsessions and
extravagant buildings brought him ridicule. Nero's court was distinguished by
its immorality and extravagance. Everyone's primary goal was making lots of
money. Because there was so much leisure for the very rich, strong ambition and
responsibility were required for almost anything at all to be accomplished.
Life at court was uncertain because Nero was capricious. Literature was used
for flattery, personal advancement, advocacy of your own position, and
destruction of your opponent's position. The literary arms of the establishment
included censorship, prosecution, libel suits, and that old standby, physical
attacks.
Unconventional and unique, the Satyricon stands almost alone in
literature. It touches on everything, especially small-town life and ordinary
people. Its characters are mostly of Greek or Near Eastern origin and are
probably based on real people; Trimalchio's house has a lot in common with
Nero's court. Some of the characters' names have given rise to much interesting
etymological speculation: the name of Encolpius, our narrator, means "in
the fold," or more explicitly here, "in the crotch"; his friend
is named Ascyltos, or "unwearied," and they fight over the affections
of the boy Giton ("neighbor").
The Satyricon was probably written around 61 AD and first
printed in 1664. It is a very long work, of which we only have fragments.
Petronius probably read it in installments to his friends, and possibly to the
court of Nero. The Cena is one of the longer fragments; its survival in its
entirety suggests that people have been enjoying it as a separable story for a
long time. A banquet is the traditional setting for the kind of light
conversation that is featured in the Cena.
The Satyricon itself, as its name implies, is a satire. The
origin of the word "satire" has been a subject for academic debate:
some say it comes from satura, or medley, while others theorize that it refers
to something which is goat-like, like a satyr (smelly, rude, unkempt, and
hairy?). Petronius satirizes anything and everything, using taste as the only
standard. This is NOT a moralistic story intended to produce reform, as we
often imagine a satire to be. We never know Petronius's own opinion (although he
warns prudes not to criticize his story), because he doesn't give it to us
directly. The only opinions we have are those of the characters in the story.
Encolpius, as we shall see, criticizes Trimalchio, but Encolpius is no great
prize either, so what is his criticism worth?
More specifically, the Satyricon is a Menippean satire. This
genre, originally a humorous discussion of philosophy in alternating prose and
verse, is characterized by the use of many different styles. In the Satyricon,
accordingly, we find proverbs, verse, interpolated stories, and varied levels
of language (from the very vulgar to the very elegant).
Some of the stories told by Trimalchio's guests are part of the
genre called Milesian tales. These are funny, often questionable, stories
characterized by a great deal of variety and incongruity in their plots, and by
lots of digressions. They have a lot in common with the more outlandish
controversiae of the rhetorical schools, as we shall see.
The Satyricon is set in Campania, which is the region around
Naples and Mt. Vesuvius, in the middle of Italy. The advantage of this setting
for us, paradoxically, is the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Two nearby towns,
Pompeii and Herculaneum, were completely destroyed but in such a way that an
unusual number of antiquities of this date were preserved by being covered with
ash or mud. We have many resources at our disposal to help us learn about life
in Mediterranean countries at this time, which enables us to visualize what
life was like for Petronius and the characters of the Satyricon.
Pompeii was a walled town, densely built up with little wasted
space. In the center of town was the Forum, an open space off-limits to wheeled
vehicles. The Forum had three functions: religious, civic/governmental, and
commercial. There were buildings around the perimeter of the Forum for each
function. Gladiator contests were held in the open center. In Chapter 4,
Encolpius and his friends will be discussing an upcoming contest in which the
combatants will fight to the death. This was a rare and special treat; animals
and people were too expensive to sacrifice in that way very often.
Houses and baths made up the rest of Pompeii. As we shall see,
the baths were a vitally important aspect of Roman social life. The city
streets did double duty as sewers also; there were stepping stones to make
crossing easier. Often the owner of a house would rent out the first floor to a
small shopkeeper.
The houses had no exterior windows (why would they want to look
out into the sewer?); all the windows looked inward to the atrium. On the walls
were paintings which allowed you to imagine you were looking out into an unreal
world. Fake columns, perspectives, historical or religious scenes, sacred
landscapes, and abstract designs all ornamented the walls of a Roman house.
What you didn't paint on the walls was your life story, as we shall see that
Trimalchio has done. Holes in the roof let in light and air, but, as you can
imagine, the light inside was very dim. At the entrance to the house was the
lararium, a shrine to your ancestors and protecting genii.
Trimalchio probably has a
house outside the city walls, unrestricted in size and with actual windows, not
unlike that of the emperor Tiberius. This emperor, who was old and paranoid,
lived in a country villa on the island of Capri and used to dump people he
considered suspicious over the cliffs.
From: Ancient History Sourcebook
http://www.fordham.edu/Halsall/ancient/petronius-satyricon-feast.html
Petronius Arbiter (c.27-66 CE)
The Banquet of
Trimalchio from the Satyricon
[Introduction (adapted from Davis)]
The following is a excerpt from a
comic romance probably composed during the reign of Nero. The picture of
Trimalchio, the coarse freedman parvenu, who has nothing to commend him but his
money, and who is surrounded by countless parasites and creatures of his whims,
is one of the most clever and unsparing delineations in ancient literature. .
At last we went to recline at table where boys from Alexandria
poured snow water on our hands, while others, turning their attention to our
feet, picked our nails, and not in silence did they perform their task, but
singing all the time. I wished to try if the whole retinue could sing, and so I
called for a drink, and a boy, not less ready with his tune, brought it
accompanying his action with a sharp-toned ditty; and no matter what you asked
for it was all the same song.
The
first course was served and it was good, for all were close up at the table,
save Trimalchio, for whom, after a new fashion, the place of honor was
reserved. Among the first viands there was a little ass of Corinthian bronze
with saddle bags on his back, in one of which were white olives and in the
other black. Over the ass were two silver platters, engraved on the edges with
Trimalchio's name, and the weight of silver. Dormice seasoned with honey and
poppies lay on little bridge-like structures of iron; there were also sausages
brought in piping hot on a silver gridiron, and under that
Syrian plums and pomegranate grains.
We were
in the midst of these delights when Trimalchio was brought in with a burst of
music. They laid him down on some little cushions, very carefully; whereat some
giddy ones broke into a laugh, though it was not much to be wondered at, to see
his bald pate peeping out from a scarlet cloak, and his neck all wrapped up and
a robe with a broad purple stripe hanging down before him, with tassels and
fringes dingle-dangle about him.
Then
going through his teeth with a silver pick, "my friends," quoth he,
"I really didn't want to come to dinner so soon, but I was afraid my
absence would cause too great a delay, so I denied myself the pleasure I was
at---at any rate I hope you'll let me finish my game." A slave followed,
carrying a checkerboard of turpentine wood, with crystal dice; but one thing in
particular I noticed as extra nice---he had gold and silver coins instead of
the ordinary black and white pieces. While he was cursing like a trooper over
the game and we were starting on the lighter dishes, a basket was brought in on
a tray, with a wooden hen in it, her wings spread round, as if she were
hatching.
Then
two slaves came with their eternal singing, and began searching the straw,
whence they rooted out some peahen's eggs, and distributed them among the
guests. At this Trimalchio turned around---"Friends," he says,
"I had some peahen's eggs placed under a hen, and so help me Hercules!---I hope they're not hatched out; we'd better try
if they're still tasty." Thereupon we took up our spoons---they were not
less than half a pound weight of silver---and broke the eggs that were made of
rich pastry. I had been almost on the point of throwing my share away, for I
thought I had a chick in it, until hearing an old hand saying, "There must
be something good in this," I delved deeper---and found a very fat
fig-pecker inside, surrounded by peppered egg yolk.
At this
point Trimalchio stopped his game, demanded the same dishes, and raising his
voice, declared that if anyone wanted more liquor he
had only to say the word. At once the orchestra struck up the music, as the
slaves also struck up theirs, and removed the first course. In the bustle a
dish chanced to fall, and when a boy stooped to pick it up, Trimalchio gave him
a few vigorous cuffs for his pains, and bade him to "throw it down
again"---and a slave coming in swept out the silver platter along with the
refuse. After that two long-haired Ethiopians entered with little bladders,
similar to those used in sprinkling the arena in the amphitheater, but instead
of water they poured wine on our hands. Then glass wine jars were brought in,
carefully sealed and a ticket on the neck of each, reading thus: "Opimian
Falernia, One hundred years old."
[Davis:
Presently one of the guests remarks, first on how
completely Trimalchio is under the thumb of his wife; next he comments on the
gentleman's vast riches.] "So help me Hercules,
the tenth of his slaves don't know their own master.... Some time ago the
quality of his wool was not to his liking; so what
does he do, but buys rams at Tarentum to improve the breed. In order to have
Attic honey at home with him, he has bees brought from Attica to better his
stock by crossing it with the Greek. A couple of days ago he had the notion to
write to India for mushroom seed. And his freedmen, his one-time comrades [in
slavery] they are no small cheese either; they are immensely well-off. Do you
see that chap on the last couch over there? Today he has his 800,000 sesterces.
He came from nothing, and time was when he had to carry wood upon his back....
He has been manumitted only lately, but he knows his business. Not long ago he
displayed this notice: "Caius Pompeius Diogenes, Having Taken A House Is Disposed To Let His
Garret From The Kalends Of July."
[After
a very long discussion in like vein and a vulgar display of luxuries and
riches, Trimalchio condescends to tell the company how he came by his vast
wealth.]
"When
I came here first [as a slave] from Asia, I was only as high as yonder
candlestick, and I'd be measuring my height on it every day, and greasing my
lips with lamp oil to bring out a bit of hair on my snout. Well, at last, to
make a long story short, as it pleased the gods, I became master in the house,
and as you see, I'm a chip off the same block. He [my master] made me coheir
with Caesar, and I came into a royal fortune, but no one ever thinks he has
enough. I was mad for trading, and to put it all in a nutshell, bought five
ships, freighted them with wine---and wine was as good as coined money at that
time--and sent them to Rome. You wouldn't believe it, every one of those ships
was wrecked. In one day Neptune swallowed up
30,000,000 sesterces on me. D'ye think I lost heart?
Not much! I took no notice of it, by Hercules! I got more ships made, larger,
better, and luckier; that no one might say I wasn't a plucky fellow. A big ship
has big strength---that's plain! Well I freighted them
with wine, bacon, beans, perfumes, and slaves. Here Fortuna (my consort) showed
her devotion. She sold her jewelry and all her dresses, and gave me a hundred
gold pieces---that's what my fortune grew from. What the gods ordain happens
quickly. For on just one voyage I scooped in 10,000,000 sesterces and
immediately started to redeem all the lands that used to be my master's. I
built a house, bought some cattle to sell again---whatever I laid my hand to
grew like a honeycomb. When I found myself richer than all the country round
about was worth, in less than no time I gave up trading, and commenced lending
money at interest to the freedmen. Upon my word, I was very near giving up
business altogether, only an astrologer, who happened to come into our colony,
dissuaded me.
"And
now I may as well tell you it all---I have thirty years, four months and two
days to live, moreover I’m to fall in for an estate---that's prophecy anyway.
If I'm so lucky as to be able to join my domains to Apulia, I'll say I've got
on pretty well. Meanwhile under Mercury's' fostering, I've built this house.
Just a hut once, you know---now a regular temple! It has four dining rooms,
twenty bedrooms, two marble porticoes, a set of cells upstairs, my own bedroom,
a sitting room for this viper (my wife!) here, a very fine porter's room, and
it holds guests to any amount. There are a lot of other things too that I'll
show you by and by. Take my word for it, if you have a penny
you're worth a penny, you are valued for just what you have. Yesterday your
friend was a frog, he's a king today---that's the way it goes."
[Trimalchio
goes on to show off to his guests the costly shroud, perfumes, etc., he has
been assembling for his own funeral; and at last] we, the guests were already
disgusted with the whole affair when Trimalchio, who, by the way, was beastly
drunk, ordered in the cornet players for our further pleasure, and propped up
with cushions, stretched himself out at full length. "Imagine I'm
dead," says he, "and play something soothing!" Whereat the
cornet players struck up a funeral march, and one of them especially---a slave
of the undertaker fellow---the best in the crowd, played with such effect that
he roused the whole neighborhood. So the watchmen, who
had charge of the district, thinking Trimalchio's house on fire, burst in the
door, and surged in---as was their right---with axes and water ready. Taking
advantage of such an opportune moment . . . we bolted incontinently, as if
there had been a real fire in the place.
Source:
From:
William Stearns Davis, ed., Readings in
Ancient History: Illustrative Extracts from the Sources, 2 Vols. (Boston:
Allyn and Bacon, 1912-13), Vol. II: Rome
and the West, pp. ??
Scanned by: J. S.
Arkenberg, Dept. of History, Cal. State Fullerton. Prof. Arkenberg has
modernized the text.
0802Satyricon2.doc
http://www.culturecourt.com/F/Fellini/FelliniFiles.htm
Film Court | copyright 2000 |
Lawrence Russell
Fellini Satyricon (1969) dir.
Frederico Fellini writ. Fellini and Bernardino Zapponi (based on the writings
of Petronious) cine. Giuseppe Rotunno sets Danilo Donati and Luigi Caccianoce
music Nino Rota, Ilhan Mimaroght, Tod Dockstader, Andrew Rudin star. Martin
Potter (Encolpio), Hiram Keller (Ascylite), Max Born (Gitone), Salvo Randone
(Eumolpo the Poet), Il Moro (Trimalcione), Magali Noel (Fortunata), Capucine
(Trifena), Alain Cuny (Lica), Fanfulla (Vernacchio), Luigi Montefiori
(Minotaur), Joseph Wheeler (suicide: Petronius), Lucia Bose (suicide: P's
wife), et. al.
figures in a fresco
The
"theatre effect" is often the sign of primitivism in film drama --
except when it's Orson Welles or Frederico Fellini. Satyricon's sets are spectacular, neo-modernist constructions that
combine both the pictographic art of the past with the angular sensibility of
the present. Characters declaim their lines to phantoms beyond the screen or to
decadent aristocrats in the burlesques that are frequently featured within the
playhouses, feasts, tombs, temples and the other venues that carry the action
of this mythical adventure.
The
film begins with the "hero" Encolpio (Martin Potter) monologuing in
front of a fresco, bemoaning his fate:
Encolpio: The earth has
not dragged me into the abyss... nor has the tempestuous sea engulfed me... I
have fled from justice, from the arena... I have even stained my hands with
blood... to end up here, banished and abandoned.... Who was it that condemned
me to this solitude? He who knows every vice... who himself admits he deserves
banishment: Ascylitus!
Who is
he speaking to? The obsolete convention of live theatre is resurrected by
Fellini in order to break the alienation between the viewer and the subject,
thus moving away from the aesthetic of cinematic voyeurism into audience
complicity.
It's a
clever directive, one which establishes not only the dramatic method but also
the visual style. An atmosphere of history is integral to the audience's
acceptance of the story. Proceeding as if the world is an art gallery is often
the kiss of death in drama, but under Fellini's direction it's a brilliant
fugue of modern expressionism and interpretative mythology.
"In
Satyricon, I was influenced by the look of frescoes. At the end, these people,
whose lives were so real to them, are now only crumbling frescoes."
(Fellini)
Encolpio:
student, pretty boy bisexual adventurer, and creature of fortune whose present
misery is due to the theft of his boy lover Gitone by his friend and fellow
student, Ascylitus. We are also introduced to Ascylitus (Hiram Keller) by way
of a monologue and quickly learn that he's no sentimentalist:
Ascylitus:
(hoarsely) Encolpio is looking for
me, he wants revenge. (gloats)
Friendship lasts as long as it is convenient.
They
fight, and Encolpio holds Ascylitus's head over a steaming culvert.
Encolpio:
Where is Gitone?
Ascylitus:
(gasping) I sold him to Vernacchio
the actor...
Their
dispute over the boy-toy Gitone (Max Born) is another one of those peculiar
passions that make love an illness, sex a disease. Gitone is a treacherous
little ponce whose affections are political rather than spiritual, so we are
forced to consider him as a symbol of Encolpio's cruel Fortune. While
Encolpio's fascination with Gitone is pathetic, the masochism is part of the
complexity of his friendship with A.
"Because of the picture's open, non-judgemental portrayal
of homosexuality, some journalists seized upon the tempting notion that I
myself must be a homosexual or at least bisexual...." (Fellini)
In one
of the many great scenes, Encolpio confronts Vernacchio (Fanfulla), the actor
who bought the boy and is training him for female roles ("Helen of Troy,
the faithful Penelope, Cornelia..."). Typical of the Roman arts in the
time of Nero, Vernacchio's playhouse stages not only obscene farces but also
the "theatre of the real thing" -- a blasphemer has his hand chopped
off as part of the evening's entertainment. The audience laughs at Encolpio's
attempt to regain Gitone, begin bidding for him. But a Senator intervenes, and
Encolpio is allowed to lead Gitone away.
They
wander the city, which is a warren of the grotesque, a bizarre brothel, a
merchant mall of the unconscious. A huge head is being dragged through an
alley, a nightmare from a beheading, or an icon of the local Caesar (the
megalomaniacal Trimalchio, as it later develops). They retire to Encolpio's
room, make love, but in the morning are found by Ascylitus. Instead of
fighting, they decide to go their separate ways, split their possessions, but
when asked who he wants to be with,
the faithless Gitone chooses Ascylitus. Encolpio barely has time to dwell upon
this treachery when an earthquake hits, and the city collapses, blocks
splitting from the huge dream walls, burying citizens, animals and the collective memory.
Cut to:
an art gallery that looks perhaps a little too chic for the ancient world, but
nonetheless sustains the film's neo-primitivist/moderno style. Here Encolpio
meets up with the poet Eumolpus (Salvo Randone), an older gentleman, also down
on his luck. As the camera patrols the hangings:
Eumolpus:
The masters in this gallery... are indicative of the apathy of our times.
Nobody paints like this anymore.
Encolpio:
What caused this decadence?
Eumolpus:
Lust of money...
How did
you get here? While the continuity is outstanding in terms of tone, the
narrative progression is difficult to comprehend unless one is familiar with
Petronius, recognizes the stories, the characters and the Fellini fictions.
This isn't a major problem, as the action exists as a Fellini expressionism as
much as it is a history, is a literature. Petronius' Satyricon is also a collection of fragments, memories of the
original work, an incomplete oeuvre,
like the plays of Sophocles or the writings of Cicero. In this sense Fellini's
narrative imagery is internal, fragments of music from the id.
The
next major scene is the feast at Trimalchio's, another Caesar who considers
himself a poet, wit, bon vivant -- a
subject of envy, contempt and rage from Eumolpus. The scene is raw, the
characters coarse, the action bizarre to the point of
revulsion. Eumolpus and Encolpio watch, participate, but are really observers
in this casual orgy of sexual theatre, gluttony, and megalomania.
The
aging Trimalchio (Il Moro), who, like Truman Capote, can do anything at his
party, humiliates his slaves and his guests as dwarves stagger in with
smoldering cauldrons of flesh -- ambiguous torsos from ambiguous creatures in
an ambiguous universe. A pig is brought forth, gutted, releasing an avalanche
of hens, snails, pigeons -- verily, all the small animals and fowl of the known
world. The guests drink, dance, insult one another under a huge icon of the
host. Trimalchio's belches, farts, snores are decoded as maxims of wisdom and
divinations by a vulpine secretary. At one point
Trimalchio denounces the drunken Eumolpus for having stolen his verses, orders
that he be thrown into the ovens. Eumolpus is dragged up the steps to these
open pits of hell, but allowed to retreat, intimidated and debased. Trimalchio
is a tyrant of the flesh, the soul -- a tumorous ego.
His
feast is a farce, as is the next scene, his rehearsal for death -- a
play-within-the-play which is an existential homage to the occult.
The
party adjourns to the plutocrat's tomb, a Roman theatre-set of heavy megalithic
blocks, a stone garden of the soul. Here Trimalchio rehearses his funeral and
internment, has his guests weep and deliver their sycophantic perorations as he
lies smugly in the vault.
Telescoping
the narrative within itself even further, Fellini now inserts the story of The Matron of Ephesus. A beautiful widow
makes love to a young soldier who has been guarding a crucified thief on a
nearby ridge. When the body of the thief is stolen, the widow aids her lover by
replacing the thief with the body of her husband... which allows Trimalchio to proclaim
his grandest witticism, "Better to hang a dead husband than a living
lover."
Thus Fellini uses the
theatre-effect to cobble together an episodic narrative that has the spacial
architecture of consciousness, an anecdotal progression of memory, cause, and
effect. Art can't exist without history. It exists as a perception of the Past,
which in turn becomes an anticipation of the Future.
"It was like speculating about life on Mars, but with the
help of a Martian, so Satyricon satisfied in me some of my desire to make a
science-fiction film." (Fellini)
Now the
dynamic changes, moving away from the closed, interior city sets of perpetual
night into the open, exterior landscape of the ocean and the unknown. The
transition here is thrilling, like arriving on another planet -- albeit as a
prisoner.
A huge
barge sits on the ocean, its black hulk a fantastic metaphor of evil, a
contradiction in the face of Nature. The V.O. by Encolpio tells us "we had been taken prisoner by the terrible Lichas of
Tarantum." By "we" he means himself, his friend Ascylitus and
toy-boy Gitone. How? It doesn't really matter. As Encolpio moves, so goes his
nightmare, so goes his fate.
These
sequences are among the most brilliantly executed in all film drama to date.
The photographic compositions isolate Nature and exalt the machine. The screen
is sectionized into the geometrics of ocean horizon and the raised oars of the
slave galley -- dramatic simplicities that give imaginative and emotional depth
to the historical reality. No matter how fantastic the characters and their
actions, there's a raw authenticity continuously seeping from the
expressionism. This, says Fellini, is how it was.
The
bowels of this war barge are a hellhole of chained slaves working the huge
chorus of oars as acrobats perform on the walkway between the bulkheads,
musicans play lyres in droning harmony with the pitch and yawl... and Gitone
sings in the tradition of the Arabic boy soprano. The master Lichas (Alain
Cuny) amuses himself and his cast of cutthroats and slaves by wrestling
selected victims in a sexual overture to death. His insane, reptilian eyes turn
to Encolpio:
Lichas:
(rasps) Come to me, O tender fawn...
The
androgynous Encolpio is no match for the sadistic Lichas. But instead of
snapping his neck, Lichas' death embrace becomes one of love. "What eyes,
what clear blue eyes," he intones as he pins Encolpio to the deck and
kisses him. And this is no mere one-night stand -- Lichas and Encolpio are
married in a hastily convened ceremony on the top deck and celebrate their love
with the slaughter of a young calf. Lichas wears a veil in a peculiar gesture
of submission and dominance, as if he is both male and female, his
homosexuality a primal twining, an omnivore from the deep.
Time
passes... the ship is seen passing through sleet and snow. A sea-monster is
captured, raised to the deck, butchered. Then, as they draw close to the island
where the young Caesar has his home, armed vessels surround them. As they
watch, the young Caesar is hunted along the shoreline onto the sculptured white
rocks where, cornered, he draws his sword and kills himself. His body is then
impaled on a pike to the cries of "The Tyrant is dead!" The invaders
confront Lichas on his ship, sneer, "We've drowned your emperor like a
pig!" A sword is drawn and -- in one of those cinematic moments you
forever recall in your dreams -- Lichas is decapitated, his head flying into
the ocean where it sinks beneath the waves, his broken eyes rolled upwards in a
frozen moment of ecstasy.
You
last see Gitone being hustled away ("We'll keep him") as you expect
Encolpio and Ascylitus to either die or remain in chains. But no... here
Fellini changes the mood dynamic again.
You see
an enclave bounded by a rock face, a sand garden adjoining the villa of
Petronius, which is where he slits his wrists after freeing his slaves and
sending away his children. You don't know it's Petronius, although Fellini has
said elsewhere that's who it is. Does this matter? You know suicide was a Roman
option, an occultic solution to a political fait
accompli. Again, the episodic narrative emulates dream, articulates
history.
In this
broken paradise of softly falling water, chirping birds and frescos, they find
a beautiful Ethiopian slave girl hiding in her kennel, share her for the night.
Encolpio awakens at dawn to sound of departing horsemen, and the roar of
flames. The bodies of Petronius and his wife are being immolated on their
funeral pyre.
Cut To:
Another desolate landscape where the wind stirs the dust around some tethered
horses near a covered wagon. This is the encampment of the Nymphomaniac, who
lies bound in the wagon, writhing in a perpetual state of indiscriminate
arousal. Her position is more cruciform than missionary, her desire more
occultic than mad. A crone tells them her husband is taking her to the
"Hermaphrodite" at the oracle
for a "cure"... but in the meantime he would be pleased if the young
men would help soothe his wife's hermetic fever. Forever the incorrigible
opportunist, Ascylite is only too happy to oblige, and he mounts the
Nymphomaniac in an act that simulates ecstasy, but seals his fate.
They
journey with the husband to the Oracle. The plan is to steal the Hermaphrodite,
a sickly grotesque who lies in a crib beside the healing pool in the cave. The
Hermaphrodite is a transgendered being who mirrors our origins, realizes our
fears, fixes myth with biological fact. All come to this "demigod"
seeking a cure for what ails them. War amputees, seniles, the insane... and the
wandering voyeurs of history. Encolpio stabs and kills the old man who is the
Hermaphrodite's guardian, and the trio flee with this sacred creature lodged on
a hand cart. But like some fragile experiment from the stud farm, the
Hermaphrodite dies, and the nympho's husband, enraged, attacks Encolpio and
Ascylitus.
What
now? Fellini's complex, episodic narrative continues to scroll.
Somehow
Encolpio finds himself rolling down a slope into a crude arena, the lair of the
Minotar. And, true to form, his "friend" Ascylitus is somehow the
grinning intimate of the Caesar and his entourage who will watch this piece of
mythological theatre. The Minotar is a seven foot
giant wearing a bull-ram headpiece, and awaits his trophy in his labyrinth.
Once again Encolpio finds himself on-stage against his will.
He
escapes death by appealing to the Minotar's humanity:
Encolpio:
Dear Minotar, I will love you if you set me free...
The
Minotar removes his headpiece, smiles, laughs, addresses the crowd:
Minotar:
(to the pro-Consul) This isn't
cowardice... it's the commonsense of an educated youth!
They
embrace and instead of being killed, Encolpio is given Ariadne, a trophy harlot
who lies willing and able on a stone bed nearby. But Encolpio finds himself
incapable of performing and is tossed contemptuously into the surrounding
trench by the disgruntled Ariadne. And as he crawls out, who should appear on a
travelling litter, reborn as a wealthy noble with an entourage of women? His
old mentor Eumolpus, The Poet... in a crazy reversal of Fortune that makes him
the heir of Trimalchio!
They
retire to Eumolpus' harem, a fantasy quadrangle of the senses. Encolpio has his
bum smacked by a bevy of voluptuaries in a futile attempt to restore his
potency as Ascylitus stands arrogantly on a giant swing, riding it back and
forth in a vulgar foreplay as infantile as it is theatrical. This respite --
like an interlude from One Thousand and
One Nights -- is brief, and presently Encolpio journeys beyond the Great
Swamps in search of the Witch who will restore his lost sexuality.
Oenothea
is a plump negress, another vagina on a slab. Her magic is to morph into fire
in a basic metaphor of potency. Once again Encolpio is invited to perform --
and this time he seems to have better luck. As Ascylitus lingers outside by the
river bank, he is attacked and killed by a man who might be the Nymphomaniac's
husband or merely a bandit who preys on the clients of the Witch. Ascylitus
calls out to Encolpio as he's fatally stabbed, then mysteriously enters the
Witch's cave, urges Encolpio to leave. Delighted with his restored powers,
Encolpio follows the ghost, finds
Ascylitus dead in the saw grass. The incident is contradictory, occultic, and
left unexplained. The scene closes with the shocked Encolpio framed against a
solitary stone megalith.
The
final episode sees Encolpio encounter a ship heading for Africa. The Master
lies dead on the shore, surrounded by crates, friends and retainers. The
Master's will is read, the lucky inheritors told that
they will have to eat his body if they want to share in his wealth. Meanwhile
the crew invites Encolpio to join them, and as they run happily over the dunes
towards the ship, the Master's body is eaten. Although there's no Christian
intent, the situation appeals to the cynical who will recall The Last Supper.
The
film ends with Encolpio's V.O. telling of his odyssey, the islands, the
cities... then, in a lap-dissolve, he and his friends transmorgrify, become figures in a fresco on a broken wall in
a set of ruins.
"'What a pity,' some archaeologist laments, upon viewing
something called Fellini's Satyricon. 'It seems to be missing its beginning,
middle and end. It is so strange... what kind of man could this Fellini have
been? Perhaps he was mad.'"
Fellini's
narrative has an interesting image/symbol sub-text, one which integrates the
action in a series of loops. There is the head,
at first a mysterious icon in the street, later a mural at the Feast of
Trimalchio, finally the severed head of Lichas sinking below the waves. Lichas
is first seen wearing an animal head piece, a totemic mask similar to that worn
by the Minotar. There's the white horse,
sleeping on its feet in a sunken court prior to the earthquake, a thing of
beauty and innocence in a city of polymorphic decadence. Horses recur in
elegant pursuit of the horizon or in captive poses, more beautiful than the
human, closer to the Gods, never grotesque, never decadent. Women on their backs: the Nymphomaniac,
Ariadne, the Witch. Always on altars, sexual transponders of Fortune and
reincarnation. And the frescoes....
paganism: religious order and the secularization of form
The
pagan form is episodic, mythical, anthropomorphic, open. The religious form is
determinist, codified, atomic, closed. Fellini
Satyricon is the perfect post-modern testament, a de-construction of the
determinist model in which the hero is the author of his fate in favor of the
episodic model where Fate is a subject of Fortune etc. By interpreting the
past, it predicts the future: the end of religious order, the secularization of
Form. When a priest posted a black edged bulletin of the door of his church denouncing
Fellini as a sinner, he was responding instinctively to the heresy of art and
the fatal movement of history. But Fellini is only the messenger, not the
messiah.
*Fellini
quotes from I, Fellini by Charlotte
Chandler
© LR 29/5/99
The following gives background of the original
Satyricon text by Petronius and makes
a few comments on Fellini’s treatment of that text.
From http://community.middlebury.edu/~harris/LatinAuthors/Petronius.html
PETRONIUS AND THE SATYRICON
Fragments of a popular Roman Novel
The
name of one Gaius (?) Petronius who died in 65 A.D. has been for so long
associated with the fragmentary novel called The Satyricon, that it seems petty
at this time to argue the question of authorship. Tacitus does give in about a
page a vignette of Petronius, formerly consul and a governor of Bithynia,
adding that he was a man of undisputed taste, which led to his being called (or
appointed?) arbiter elegantiae , an interesting and unique title, but one whose
meaning is not really clear. He lived an unconventional life, often reversing
night and day, but had talent for administration also. But no mention is made
of his writing any book, and the best reason for staying with this Tacitean
Petronius is the lack of any other candidate to whom the Satyricon can be
assigned. The question still remains whether the kind of man Tacitus describes
would be like to write a novel devoted to people of the lower classes, whether
he would be as intimately aware of their language and their sociology as the
writer of the Satyricon is.
One
MS of the central portion which we have, the Cena Trimalchionis, was
discovered in the 17 c. in what is now Yugoslavia, which together with some
pages of dissociated text usually printed before and after it, form the hundred
or so pages of this absolutely unusual novel. Our text is apparently one
section of a much longer work, perhaps fifteen times as long, of which the
outline is not at all clear to us. It does seem a shame that so little of a
work of such value is preserved, while reams of Statius and Silius Italicus
survive intact!
The
Satyricon is our only source of information about the language of the people
who made up the Roman populace. It is true, Plautus does show traces of popular
speech in his Grecizing comedies, and the myriad inscriptions do reveal bits
and pieces of ordinary language, but in the Satyricon we find description,
conversations, stories and bits of biography which tell us much about that
unknown Roman, the proletariat. In Trimalchio, at whose villa an elaborate
party is being staged, we see what must have been a common occurrence in Rome
of the time, an immigrant bourgeois who has become rich without picking up any
of the elements of taste and education which would make him pass for a Roman
gentleman. Coarse as he is, gross, rich and often disgusting, Trimalchio is
above all real, as are the friends who congregate for free dinner at his lavish
table.
Reading
this novella, there are many surprises, but perhaps none is more interesting
than the language itself. It is not easy to read in places, since there are
numerous items of vocabulary found rarely or nowhere else in Latin. But there
is nothing of the well-groomed literariness of Ciceronian periods, sentence
structure is simple and direct, and the notions of the speakers are just the
sort of things that real people are liable to be saying. Knowing so little
about the Roman lower classes, we are grateful for this one eye-opened, and
only wish we had more of it. For social history of the Roman immigrant freedmen
of the 1 st c. A.D., the Satyricon is a mine of information, actually the only
such mine of information we have.
Fellini's
film Satyricon is well worth seeing as background to reading the text.
It is such a lavish and overwrought production, that one might miss the fact
that it is quite near to the text, actually most of the dialog is close
translation into Italian, while the scenes of the Cena are as gross and
gaudy as the Latin text indicates.
One
episode, that of the Ephesian Matron, is completely remarkable and unexpected,
since it portrays a light-hearted skit of a widow attending a corpose of her
husband in a tomb. For reasons based in the story line, the body of the husband
ends up hung on a crufix outside the tomb, in sompany with two cricified
criminals. There is no space to go into this here, but it seems clear that
someone who misunderstood Christianity totally, heard of Christ's entombment
and crucifixion, and turned it into an odd form of comedy. This needs further
study and discussion....
No
student who has studied a few years of high school Latin should miss reading
sections of Petronius. This is what Romans read for entertainment, there is
nothing fancy or oratorical here, but the daily talk of the little people who
have vanished from the Roman scene. The gabby table-talkers, the nouveau riche
Trimalchio, the grossly expensive estate with everything a person could imagine
imagining---- these were a part of Roman life, and curiously, can be found in
astonishing replica in America of the end of the 20th century!
Return to Latin Author index
William
Harris, Prof.
Emeritus, Middlebury College,
www.middlebury.edu/~harris
0901Gladiator.doc
Gladiator: Trashing Commodus
Now that everyone in the world has seen Ridley Scott's Gladiator movie, maybe we should look at
what's true in it and what is cinematic invention. The short answer is that everything in the
background (sets, costumes, gladiatorial activities, the Colosseum and games)
is very accurate and that the storyline and main characters are pretty much
invented, even characters who were historical, like Marcus Aurelius, Commodus,
and his sister Lucilla.
Commodus is shown in Gladiator
as arriving on the battlefield after the action is complete. In fact, he campaigned with his father and
participated in battles from the time he was five years old and actually was in
command of the troops in the successful campaign shown at the start of the
movie. Maximus, the movie's heroic and
victorious general, never existed, and his fictional victories really belonged
to Commodus. Three years before his
death, Marcus Aurelius named Commodus co-Emperor in recognition of his military
victories, but Marcus Aurelius actually ruled alone until his death. That occurred in 180 AD,
of disease usually identified as "the plague" (medical authorities
differ on what that might have been), somewhere near modern Vienna (and
historians, of course, argue about exactly where). A few enemies of Commodus later mentioned
poison, but there's really no evidence (and it was always "poison"
and never smothering that came up in such cases.) Lucilla wasn't in the military theater.
Nobody ever was able to
determine the exact fatherhood of the many children produced by Faustina the
Younger, the wife of Marcus Aurelius, but both Lucilla and Commodus were among
her brood. Lucilla was older by a number
of years, and she really had married Lucius Verus when Commodus was four years
older. Verus died ten years before the action of the film starts, so it is
unlikely that there would be an eight-year-old son of theirs running around
several years into the epic. Lucilla did
hate Commodus and she participated in an early assassination plot for which she
was exiled and then murdered on orders of Commodus. There was never any hint that he took her to
bed, but there was plenty of evidence of such activity with some of his younger
sisters -- nobody knows how willing they were.
(Lucilla, who had remarried, was also promiscuous -- just not with her
brother.) Commodus' main squeeze was a
cousin named Marcia, and there will be more about her later.
Shortly after Marcus Aurelius' death, Commodus signed treaties
with the Germans and withdrew all Roman forces from north of the Danube
River. This move was immensely popular
with the Army, who had been campaigning there relentlessly for almost 20 years,
and with most Romans, who were tired of the high casualty rate and of the
economic drain caused by war profiteering by many Senatorial families. Commodus brought the 180,000
man Danube Army home to an immense triumphal celebration, which he
dedicated to his deceased father. But it
was Commodus who was the people's hero.
His popularity was bolstered by the unprecedented long series of
gladiatorial games associated with the Triumph and with large distributions of
money to all Romans.
Commodus sponsored additional games throughout his reign and
always gave out cash to help people enjoy them.
He was arguably the most popular Emperor that Rome had since
Augustus. Of course, he was hated by the
upper classes -- it was their war profits he was distributing to the
masses. Modern economists have estimated
that his expenditures for "bread and circuses" were huge, but that he
spent much less than the "good emperors" before him (and especially
Marcus Aurelius) had spent on border wars that were of marginal to negative
value to the already over-extended Empire.
Commodus did fight in the arena, but he had an understandably
perfect record. His gladiatorial
opponents knew that if they put on a good but not dangerous show
they would only receive a minor wound and would be spared in the end by the
merciful Emperor. He was also an
accomplished animal slayer and had lions, bears, leopards, hippos, and a
giraffe on his lists of conquests. Some
of these he slew from safe platforms and catwalks, but he also sometimes went
down to the arena floor. One of his
great crowd pleasers was shooting the heads off running ostriches with
specially designed broad-headed arrows -- they'd run around headless for a
while, much to the delight of the crowd.
And it should be remembered that none of his excesses put off the
audience. Bloody as the movie is, it
cannot compare with the hellish scenes played out in the real Colosseum --
scenes relished by the Roman public – men, women, and children alike. Some revisionists have gone so far as to say
that Commodus just played to his audience and that, perhaps, he wasn't as mad
as he seemed. (This is the Hamlet debate
a millennium and a half sooner.)
I think he was really a little nuts. And really evil – as was his whole
society. And saying that he was just an
ultimate expression of his society doesn't excuse. By the end of his rule, he had apparently
identified himself with both Jupiter and Hercules. He took to wearing a Herculean lion skin and
keeping a Hercules style club next to his throne. His arena persona took over his life, and he
turned civil administration over to lackeys and freedmen. With his encouragement, they increased the
number of executions and property seizures among the upper classes, always
trying to get enough money to mollify the Roman mob. Commodus eventually tried to rename the
months of the year after his own names and titles, and he proclaimed a new name
for Rome: the "Colony of
Commodus". Ultimately his extreme
behaviors and megalomaniacal beliefs became habitual, and because of them he
ended up with many more powerful enemies than he could defend against.
The Gladiator film
vastly telescopes the reign of Commodus, showing him being killed early in his
reign in the Colosseum. He really lasted
thirteen years, and, at the end of 192, he was poised to seize the last
remaining public offices for himself. On
New Years day 193 he planned to go before the Senate
(dressed as a gladiator, with the Hercules lion skin on his shoulders) to take
over the offices of the two elected Consuls after having them murdered. The story then becomes murky.
Perhaps because of "information" supplied by enemy
Senators, Marcia (Commodus' mistress/cousin), connived with some of Commodus'
cronies and the wrestlers and gladiators he hung out with, and they convinced
each other that they were all on Commodus' latest death list. The story goes that, on New Year's Eve, they
first poisoned Commodus, but the dose was only strong enough to render him
unconscious. Fearing that he might wake
up in a mean mood, Marcia persuaded one of the wrestlers to strangle him. Commodus never saw the dawn of the new year.
The Senate rejoiced and proclaimed famously that Commodus'
corpse should be dragged through the streets with "the hook" -- that
was how really badly disgraced dead gladiators were taken from the arena. He was saved from that post-mortem indignity
by one of the high-ranking plotters, who spirited the body away to an unmarked
grave outside Rome.
The death of Commodus marked the beginning of a new series of
civil wars. His immediate successor,
Pertinax, lasted only 87 days before the army killed him off. Then Didius Julianus offered the Praetorian
Guard the biggest bribe, and they made him emperor. When he couldn't deliver the bribe money, he
soon lost Praetorian support. Provincial
armies proclaimed their own emperors, and, when Septimius Severus marched on
the city, Julianus was killed an officer in his own guard platoon -- only 66
days after the Senate had proclaimed him.
The Senate then proclaimed Septimius Severus Emperor, but it took him
four years to root out other claimants.
You should also remember that Commodus' enemies got to pay the
next generation of historians, whose works became the basis for
"historical fact".
The dying game: How did the gladiators
really live?
By John Follain, The London Times 12/15/02
Roman gladiators are the stuff of legend and Hollywood movies.
But newly discovered bones are finally revealing the truth about how these
ancient heroes lived and died.
The tall gladiator had marched into the Ephesus arena earlier
that afternoon, to perform before an audience of up to 25,000 spectators. He
was among the lowest of the low in the gladiator hierarchy, which paired off
opponents as evenly as possible to ensure contests lasted. As a retiarius, he
carried no helmet, and his weapons were a trident and a net. Normally he would
have been pitted against a secutor or a murmillo - both of whom had a visored
helmet, a shield, greaves, a sword or a dagger, and a protected sword arm.
The profession of retiarius attracted the scorn of the
contemporary writer Juvenal: 'What he hurls is a net, and he misses, of course,
and we see him Look up at the seats, then run for his life, all around the
arena, Easy for all to know and identify.' We will never know whether the
Ephesus gladiator, who was between 18 and 25 years old, and 6ft tall - giving
him an advantage as far as throwing his net over his adversary went - fought
well or badly. But we do know how he met his end: a dagger blow of such violence
that it split his head open with a gash that ran from the top of one ear,
across the front of his face, under the nose, to the opposite cheek.
His badly mangled skull has survived to tell the tale of his
death. Until now, what we knew about gladiators - those bloody icons of the
ancient world - was derived from inscriptions on tombs, from the literature of
the time, and from the decorations on columns that celebrated the triumphs of
Roman emperors. But in Ephesus in western Turkey, a city so rich and thriving
it was the New York of ancient Rome, a cemetery for gladiators is for the first
time yielding bony evidence of not only how they died, but also how they lived,
and how their injuries were treated.
Believed to have been inherited from the Etruscans, gladiator
contests spread across the Roman dominions and were at first part of funeral
celebrations for rich families. In 78BC, the death of the dictator Sulla was
marked with battles fought by 6,000 gladiators. In time, the private and
religious significance of these contests disappeared, and they became shows put
on as popular entertainment. The gladiators were tools of Roman rulers who
believed, as the ancient formula said, that they could keep the plebs under
control with 'bread and games'. Entry was free.
The fury of gladiatorial combat first came to Ephesus in 69BC,
courtesy of Lucullus, the Roman army's commander-in-chief. The city was a vital
centre, on a par with Alexandria in Egypt, or Antioch in Syria. Under the
Emperor Augustus, it became the first city of the Roman province of Asia, and
the residence of the proconsul. A political and commercial centre with a
population of an estimated 200,000, it sat astride trade routes that ran from
West to East, and from South to North.
To accommodate the contests, the eastern part of the Ephesus
stadium built by the Greeks was converted into an elliptical arena. One of the
biggest monuments of the city, the stadium was oval-shaped, about 330 yards
long and 160 yards wide. Some 25,000 spectators - half the capacity of the
Colosseum - could watch the athletic games favoured by the Greeks. Centuries
later, people could watch chariot races, and the gladiator combats that began
in the afternoon with the participants, right arms raised, hailing high
officials, nobles and senators with the ritualistic words: 'Those who are about
to die salute you.'
There was no mistaking the purpose of these fights: they were
designed to impress people with the might of Rome, and they allowed the cities
of the entire empire to show that they belonged to it. Significantly, the
Ephesus contests were organised by the high priest who oversaw the worship of
the emperor. In the amphitheatre, the audience embodied the Roman nation, the
sovereign people of the Earth. It was the people, and not their ruler, who
decided whether a vanquished gladiator had demonstrated sufficient fighting
spirit and courage to obtain a pardon. The people could also decide to grant a
gladiator freedom - most of them were prisoners of war, slaves or condemned
offenders - just as they could call for his execution on the spot.
When a gladiator died, his body was carried only a short
distance from the scene of his last stand. Some 300 yards away, off a covered
passage built with huge limestone blocks, lay a cemetery. There, the body was
placed in a sarcophagus that rested on the ground. No other objects were buried
with the body. But the dead man was often honoured with an inscription that
would guarantee him later recognition. Some epitaphs carried the word
'gladiator' in both Latin and Greek, and detailed the cities he had fought in
and the victories he had won. One related how Pandos, from Asia Minor, had won
10 contests and that, even though he had had the sun in his eyes, he had
managed to kill an opponent 'as if he were a donkey'.
The epitaphs were discovered in 1993, when archeologists
stumbled across them as they tried to trace the path taken by holy processions
from the centre of Ephesus to the Temple of Artemis - one of the seven wonders
of the ancient world - on the city's outskirts. The cemetery, now covered by an
orchard and off a street where shepherds walk their sheep, yielded not only the
inscriptions but also - much more excitingly - enough material to allow for the
first mass autopsy ever performed on the bones of gladiators.
The 'Dr Death' ministering to these remains works from a small
office in the faculty of medicine at the University of Vienna. The screensaver
on the computer of Karl Grossschmidt, an anthropologist and assistant
professor, has grinning skeletons in sneakers jogging in all directions. A
burly man with delicate tortoiseshell glasses and a ready grin, Grossschmidt is
deadpan about his daily dealings with death: when he warns that the junction
underneath his window is highly dangerous, he mentions that he once saw a
student thrown by a car above a tram. Of the student's fate, he comments:
'Fresh bones.'
In May last year, the somewhat staler gladiator bones were
turned over to Grossschmidt and his assistant Fabian Kanz. The age of the
remains did not worry him: the work he is proudest of was on Neanderthal bones
from Croatia, the youngest of which was 26,000 years old. When he arrived in
Ephesus, Grossschmidt was taken to a huge warehouse where, stacked from floor
to ceiling, were 300 blue plastic crates full of bones. He picked his way
through them and selected the most promising relics. 'There wasn't much about
these bones that suggested death,' he says, 'so I wasn't shaken by them at all.
Not like Egyptian mummies. What with the eyes and the hair, you really do feel
you have a corpse in front of you.'
Grossschmidt soon established that the bones had been mixed up,
and that the remains of one single body were more often than not spread between
different crates. Gradually he was able to put the skeletons back together
again, although it was impossible to complete the task, as smaller bones, like
the ones from the ribcage, are too similar to be attributed to a particular
skeleton. The bones were not just of men - sometimes women and children had
been buried with them, making it likely that these were family graves.
He estimated the remains were of some 120 individuals, and dated
most of them to AD200-300. This was a time when gladiatorial combats reached
their zenith. Some of the fighters buried in the cemetery may have performed
under the emperor-gladiator Commodus, who took part in a thousand bouts, and
enjoyed shooting sickle-headed arrows to decapitate ostriches. Commodus, who
was assassinated in AD192, features in Ridley Scott's film Gladiator, starring
Russell Crowe. After his death, gladiator games became more and more popular,
and in AD249, to celebrate the millennium of the foundation of Rome, 1,000
pairs of gladiators fought in the Colosseum. Thirty-two elephants, a dozen
tigers, more than 50 lions and six hippopotamuses were among the animals that
were sacrificed.
Of the Ephesus remains, the gladiator bones stood out. They are
now the subject of an exhibition in the Turkish city - entitled Gladiators in
Ephesus: Death in the Afternoon - which attracts half the visitors who come to
the site, and which organisers hope will travel to Britain next year. The
skeletons' hands and feet especially were extremely developed, with odd-looking
swellings in certain places due to constant strain. Gladiators wore no sandals
and walked barefoot on the sand that was spread across the arena to soak up
their blood. Their feet had an abnormal bone structure, and marks on the bones
showed that their tendons were also bigger than normal - much like the racket
arm of a modern-day tennis champion can be an inch or two longer than his other
arm.
But it was the damage to the bones that spoke the most. Many
shoulder blades bore the mark of the belt that held the heavy shield many of
them used. Other, more serious injuries found on the skeletons helped to reveal
what kind of gladiators these were - in ancient Rome, they were divided into
several categories, and rules determined what weapons they could carry and who
they were paired against. The aim was to make it difficult to injure the
adversary.
A lucky find allowed the experts to precisely match an injury
with the kind of weapon that caused it. A bronze trident fished from the bottom
of the harbour of Ephesus in 1989 matches exactly three jagged holes found in a
skull from the cemetery. The holes, each 2in apart, form a neat line across the
top of the skull, with the lowest one at the point where the fighter's brows
met. The prongs are 81/2in long, and plunged into his brain. It was the last
injury this man suffered, but not the first: between two of the holes was the
mark of an earlier blow, which had healed but only after, as Grossschmidt puts
it, 'he had bled like a pig'.
On the femur just above the knee of another skeleton,
Grossschmidt found four odd-looking marks that form the outline of a square.
The marks are believed to have been made by a four-pronged weapon that is
depicted on a tombstone found in Romania. It is held by a retiarius, who also
carries a trident, his dog at his feet. Until now, archeologists thought the
four-pronged version was an artist's invention, an object with perhaps a
religious significance, but the Austrian team believe they have shown that it really
existed. They are in no doubt that the femur injury was suffered during
fighting, as this part of the body was one of the least protected in gladiator
combats. The gladiator, although not fatally injured, cannot have survived very
long as, crippled, he could no longer avoid his opponent's blows.
Sometimes execution, when it came, was swift. For decades, the
popular wisdom has been that a death sentence was ordered with a thumbs-down
sign, but this is disputed by many historians who believe that the sign was
only made once the gladiator had already been killed. The more common practice
was for the public to cry: 'Iugula [Lance him through]!'
The vanquished were expected to act in accordance with the
greatness of manhood and, motionless, await the death thrust. Rather than a
public display of killing, according to the late Bristol university historian
Thomas Wiedemann, gladiatorial combat should be seen more usefully as a
demonstration of the power to overcome death. '[The loser] was expected to take
the coup de grace without protest, and the ritualized way in which it was
carried out will have helped many defeated gladiators to fulfill this expectation,'
wrote Wiedemann in his book Emperors and Gladiators. 'In that sense, even the
gladiator who died in the arena had overcome death. His death was certainly a
consolation to those who watched it. They had assembled in order to be reminded
of the death of a great Roman.'
At least one of the gladiators buried in Ephesus was executed
with a single dagger blow to the throat. He may have been squatting on all
fours at the time, exhausted; the sword smashed through his left shoulder
blade, slipped through the upper aperture of the thorax and pierced the heart.
Another was dispatched with a dagger blow to the front of the throat, echoing a
report of the time that the Emperor Claudius ordered that defeated fighters
have their throats slit, so that he could enjoy watching their faces as they
died.
In Pompeii in the Gulf of Naples, a relief on a panel shows a
similar episode: the loser holds onto the left knee of the victor, who pierces
his throat with a sword. 'Of course,' Wiedemann observed, 'a gladiator who
failed to accept his execution heroically would hardly have been remembered on
a relief glorifying the generosity [of the games' organizer].'
The epitaphs found in the cemetery reveal that most of the
gladiators died in the first year of their career. During that first year, the
chances of survival were an estimated 3:1, and every second gladiator who was
defeated in the arena was put to death. Those contestants who were sent into
the arena armed with swords were usually given no prior training, and for them
the first fight was a death sentence. It was truly, as Michael Grant wrote in
his vivid little book Gladiators: The Bloody Truth, the nastiest blood sport
invented.
But gladiators also lived to fight another day, and many more.
Some fighters had 150 victories recorded on their tombstones. One 21-year-old
had trained for four years, and died during his fifth fight. One 30-year-old
had fought 34 times; he had scored 21 victories, and had been pardoned four
times after being defeated. Gladiators could even live to very old age: the
oldest in Ephesus died at 99, long freed and pensioned.
'If they were good, the gladiators became heroes,' says
Professor Fritz Krinzinger, director of the Austrian Archaeological Institute,
which oversees the Ephesus study. 'They were the Schumachers of the ancient
world. They were in danger every time they performed, and they were ready to
give their lives for sport.' The gladiators exuded an aura of myth, glory,
power and eroticism. Even children idolized them, as revealed by the discovery
in Ephesus of graffiti of gladiators drawn in an infantile hand. Young women
swooned at the thought of their prowess: one gladiator, Crescens, was notorious
as 'the boss and healer of girls at night' and 'the girls' darling'. Probably
to appease nervous husbands, the Emperor Augustus decreed that women, other
than the six vestal virgins who were in any case sworn to chastity, could watch
the games only from the seats that were furthest away.
Games were advertised in public places, fan clubs supported
individual gladiators, and street hawkers sold souvenirs of the biggest
contests. People believed that they could cure epilepsy with the warm blood of
a butchered gladiator. The most expensive fighters were sold to games
organisers for a sum equivalent to 15 times the yearly income of a legionnaire:
provided the gladiator lived long enough to fight a couple of battles, the
organisers could count on recovering their investment.
Apart from fame, one of the few perks enjoyed by the gladiators
in Ephesus was medical attention so good it would impress even today's doctors.
A fracture on a radius, the thicker and shorter bone of the
forearm, that was found in the cemetery had healed so perfectly with the help
of physiotherapy that it is almost invisible to the naked eye. This is
testimony to the skills taught by Galen of Pergamum, to the north of Ephesus,
one of the most renowned doctors of his day, who had acquired vast anatomical
experience by specializing on gladiators in Asia Minor, and had then become
personal doctor to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. From writings of the time, we
know that gladiators often had their own private doctor and masseur. The worst
wounds, especially those inflicted by animals, were described and analyzed at
length in medical treatises.
The Ephesus remains also show that gladiators were heavily
built: they ate heartily to increase body weight and to protect themselves
against deep wounds, and were nicknamed 'barley eaters' because of their diet
of pulses and barley porridge, rich in carbohydrates. Dr Galen, however, was
concerned that the barley made their flesh soft. On the day before battle, they
were given special meals to steel them for the task ahead.
The epitaphs that described the gladiators' feats did not
guarantee them lasting respect. Some three centuries after their burial, their
resting places were disturbed when the sarcophagi were opened and reused to
bury more dead - sometimes without even removing the remains of the first
occupants. The inscriptions were amended to bear the name of the latest
arrival.
In the 3rd and 4th centuries, gladiatorial games became fewer
and farther between, replaced by cheaper animal hunts. The sport so many men
had died for was itself killed off in AD404 by the Emperor Honorius, when he
closed what remained of the gladiator schools. No longer would gladiators, in
Byron's words, be 'butchered to make a Roman holiday'.
The
Gladiator -- History and Interpretation of Gladiatorial Games
http://abacus.bates.edu/~mimber/Rciv/gladiator.htm
The Romans believed that they inherited the practice of
gladiatorial games from the Etruscans who used them as part of a funeral ritual
(servants would duel to the death for the right to provide companionship to
their owners in eternity). We don't have any evidence, however, that the
Etruscans, in fact, did any such thing. Conversely, we do have evidence of
gladiators in Campanian society, perhaps of Samnite origin. The early
Christians interpreted the gladiatorial games as a type of human sacrifice. While
it is true that gladiatorial games involved the attempted killing of one person
by another, and that the Romans associated them with funeral rituals, in fact,
the analogy by the Christians seems to have been more a brilliant rhetorical
move in the service of a larger anti-pagan polemic than a fair description of
how Romans themselves understood the games.
The first gladiatorial games were offered in Rome in 264 BCE by
sons of Junius Brutus Pera in their father's honor after he had died.
Gladiatorial combat became a very popular form of public spectacle very quickly
in Rome. Those who offered games began to compete in terms of the numbers of
matches offered. Whereas the sons of Brutus Pera offered three matches, a
century later, Titus Flamininus offered 74 pairs in games in honor of his
father that lasted over three days. Julius Caesar promised 320 matches in
funeral games for his daughter, Julia, but the Senate passed legislation
limiting the amount of money that could be spent on gladiatorial games to stop
him. Thus, during the Republic, gladiatorial combat was associated in Rome with
a) a death and b) elite competition. Such displays provided members of the
elite with a vehicle by which to advertise the newest generation in a family
which sought to rule Romans.
The funeral association is as important for our analysis as the
association with competition within the elite. Not merely were the games linked
to a specific person's death, but they were also very much about death (during
the Republic they were only held around the time of the winter equinox;
Augustus later permitted gladiatorial games at the spring equinox as well).
Gladiators entered the arena with the intent to kill each other. Roman
spectators thus observed men facing death, and attempting to overcome it. In a
metaphorical sense as well, gladiators were socially dead - they were infamis
under Roman law (typically slaves, prisoners of war and convicted criminals who
had a much more restricted set of rights under Roman law than ordinary
citizens). If they fought well enough, however, they might, with the crowd's
support, win both their lives (crowds could and did urge the editores, the
sponsors of the games, to spare a defeated gladiator before the kill) and their
social identities (crowds urged emperors to free gladiators who were popular).
Thus, gladiators, from a Roman's point of view (if not a Christian's) offered
at least the opportunity to observe death defeated and transcended.
What gladiators did (indeed what they were trained to do) was
kill and die well. These were tasks of extraordinary urgency for Romans. On the
one hand, Romans (as most premodern societies and impoverished modern
societies) faced daunting mortality rates. They did not have the opportunity to
"grow into their deaths" as a matter of course (as moderns in
materially successful societies do). A Roman at the age of 20 knew he would
probably die before he was 30, and he wanted to meet death with honor and
dignity. He could observe gladiators do it in the arena. Conversely, as members
of a relentlessly militaristic culture, Romans valued the art of killing in a
way we simply don't understand. Roman soldiers, moreover, enjoyed a much
greater autonomy in their line of battle than Greeks did. In fact, the success
of the Roman battle line often depended on the courage of individual soldiers
in hand to hand combat. Thus
the ability of an ordinary citizen to kill single handedly was a skill that the
entire empire depended on to survive.
Gladiatorial games proved immediately and immensely popular
within the Roman Empire. There are reports, for example, of people in towns
where prominent citizens died virtually extorting promises of gladiatorial
games from the survivors. Eventually, the emperors had to regulate how much
could be spent on gladiatorial performances to prevent members of the elite
from bankrupting themselves. As Rome expanded, so did the performance of the
games. We have evidence of gladiatorial performances in virtually every part of
the Roman Empire. The games themselves became a vehicle for the Romanization of
the empire. On the one hand, Roman soldiers liked to observe gladiatorial
matches. Thus, lanistae (owner/managers of gladiatorial troops) would follow
the troops to new quarters and offer matches for entertainment. This could be a
highly profitable enterprise and it was not unusual for members of the elite to
invest in gladiatorial troupes. Cicero's friend, Atticus, for example, made
back his investment in a troupe after two performances. The games themselves
provided ways for Rome to demonstrate the power of their empire. The sheer cost
of the producing games was stunning. Contests involving animals from distant
provinces demonstrated in a material way how far Rome's dominance reached.
Inhabitants of towns in lands conquered by the Romans built amphitheaters and
sponsored competitions as a way of demonstrating their Romanness. Historians
traditionally had a great deal of difficulty accepting that the Greeks, for
example, enthusiastically embraced the games (cf. Japanese enthusiasm for
baseball), but, in fact, the Greeks loved gladiators. The Greeks were not
alone. Mosaics and wall paintings from North Africa and other parts of the
empire routinely use depictions of gladiatorial combat for their themes.
There are a number of reasons why gladiatorial combat proved so
enthralling for Romans. The arena was a liminal site where fundamental human
conflicts were symbolically fought. The gladiator as outlaw confronted the
forces of civilization and law. Contestants who specialized in the fighting of
animals fought in the guise of bears, leopards and lions - wild and, to folks
living then, daunting forces of nature. Finally, at issue in every gladiatorial
contest, was the most basic question of life and death.
Format of gladiatorial
games
The Romans, throughout the history of the Republic, drew a sharp
distinction between gladiatorial contests and other forms of spectacular
entertainment. Games that the state sponsored were called ludi, were held quite
frequently, never involved armed single combat, were associated with the
worship of a god and were paid for (at least in part) by the public treasury.
Gladiatorial shows, which the Romans called munera, in contrast, were sponsored
by private individuals, were held very infrequently, were associated with
funeral rituals, and were paid for privately. The change in Roman government
initiated by Augustus blurred some of these distinctions (e.g. funding).
Augustus, in fact, was quick to take control of the infrastructure of the
gladiatorial entertainment business (the Roman states, for example, owned the
schools where gladiators trained).
In addition to the armed individual gladiatorial contests, other
spectacles became associated with gladiatorial games. Venationes were usually
held in the morning of game days (but could be offered on their own).
Bestiarii, or combatants trained to fight animals, were pitted against wild
animals from all over the empire (bullfights and rodeos are the modern heirs
and/or equivalents). The slaughter of wildlife in these contests was
astonishing. Hundreds of deaths in a day were routine. At the games held by Trajan
when he became Emperor, 9,000 were killed. Today we are appalled by scale of
wanton destruction. But to folks living 2,000 years ago, wild animals were as
much enemies as marauding Germanic tribes. While there are occasional reports
of audience sympathy for the plight of animals (elephants in particular seemed
to have been troubling), Romans overwhelming sided with the human combatants.
The venationes symbolized the ability of human society to protect itself from
hostile forces of nature and remained popular throughout the history of the
empire. The Christians, for example, never attempted to outlaw venationes while
they worked strenuously to end gladiatorial combat.
After the venationes, a typical spectacle would include a lunch
interlude during which humiliores (Romans of non-elite status - execution by
sword was a privilege reserved for the elite) who had been convicted of capital
crimes were executed. Typically, the convicted were killed by burning at the
stake or crucifixion (forms of capital punishment that the Romans appeared to
have adopted from the Carthaginians) or ad bestias (in which the convict would
be left alone in the arena with one or more wild - and hungry - animals).
Romans had a somewhat contradictory attitude towards these executions. On the
one hand, like the venationes, the executions were welcome examples of the
power of society, law and order, to restrain and suppress forces that
threatened it. Public executions were popular. On the other hand, writers of
elite status, seem to suggest that gentlemen and women didn't indulge
themselves too much in this spectacle. The decent thing to do was go get lunch.
Some writers, for example, criticized the Emperor Claudius because he routinely
stayed in the stadium and observed the executions. To ordinary Romans, however,
Claudius' presence indicated that the Emperor took his
responsibility for preserving law and order seriously. The people executed
were, by definition, wicked and dangerous. Their deaths were something to
rejoice in. During the Principate they become something to revel in. Under
Nero, the practice arose of writing plays adapted from myths in which people
died and assigning the role of a character who would die to a condemned man.
The audience would watch the play, and the actual killing of the condemned man
in character's role (an ancient variant on a snuff film).
It was at these lunch time spectacles that Romans executed
Christians when local or national officials were in a persecuting mode. Public
response to these executions could vary dramatically. On the one hand,
Christians who refused to sacrifice to the Roman gods, flagrantly rejected the
norms of the society in which they lived. There are plenty of examples of
communities demanding that their leaders send Christians to the arena for
public execution (cf. accounts of Jews demanding that Pilate order the execution
of Jesus). On the other hand, the "crime" of Christianity was quite
different than the crimes of others executed in the arena (murder, temple
theft, etc.). Christian sources, at least, report that the dignity of
Christians in facing a spectacle intended to degrade and humiliate them, often
inspired respect among the crowds in the stadium.
After lunch, the
gladiatorial contests were held. Originally, gladiators were identified with
ethnic names (e.g., Thracian or Samnite) which indicated the kind of weaponry
they used, not the actual ethnic identity. In fact, the evidence suggests
gladiators fought hard to resist the pseudo-ethnic labeling (there's a famous
example of a gladiator of Samnite origin who fought as a "Thracian")
and took care on their tombstones to indicate their true ethnic identities.
Samnites (later called secutores) carried oblong shields and
short swords and wore plumed helmets with visors. Thracians carried small round
shields and curved daggers. Gladiators called retiarii ("net men")
carried nets to trip and hold their opponents and tridents which they used to
finish off a captured victim. A Retariius typically fought a "Gallic"
gladiator (also called a murmillo) who wore a rectangular shield and a visored
helmet decorated with a fish (murmillo) or a Samnite. The vary names and distinctive
weaponry of the gladiators displayed a history of the peoples Rome had defeated
as her empire expanded. Interestingly enough, as the empire expanded and
gladiatorial combat grew popular in the provinces, Romans began to drop the
ethnic identification of gladiators for terms that described their costume or
style of fighting (e.g. Samnites became secutores).
Gladiatorial Demography
Romans "recruited" gladiators from a number of
population sources over the course of their history. Captured soldiers were a
popular source, particularly in the years of Rome's imperial expansions. Even
when the geographical limits of the empire had been established, soldiers of
rebellious provinces remained a fruitful source of gladiators. Titus and
Vespasian were able to eliminate extraordinary numbers of rebellious Jews by
organizing gladiatorial games after they "pacified" Judea. Roman
courts could sentence individuals convicted of serious criminal offenses to
gladiatorial schools. Similarly owners of recalcitrant
and/or fugitive slaves could sell these slaves ad ludos (or condemn them to
death in public executions). Under the empire, however, laws were passed
requiring owners to establish some basis (e.g., criminal behavior) for such
treatment of a slave.
Despite the fact (perhaps because of the fact) that gladiatorial
combat was so marked by "outlaw" and servile combatants, free
citizens could and did become gladiators. To do so, they had to take an oath in
which they agreed that they would submit to a) being branded; b) being chained;
c) being killed by an iron weapon; d) to pay for the food and drink they
received with their blood; and d) to suffer things even if they did not wish
to. To agree, voluntarily, to such conditions was a renunciation of all the
social benefits of citizenship in the Roman world (libertas, the sanctity of
the citizen's body, etc.). Thus, the free citizens who chose to enter the arena
were viewed with grave suspicion by members of the Roman elite. However, there
is evidence that a substantial proportion of the gladiatorial forces (perhaps
as many as half) were originally of citizen status (who voluntarily entered the
gladiatorial schools) by the end of the Republic.
The choice for some citizens can be explained by economic
factors. Gladiators got three square meals a day, decent medical care, and if
they were good, survived to freedom. They also had the opportunity to win
purses that editores would frequently offer as bonus in competitions. If they survived they would win their freedom. And although they
could never be citizens, their children could. For citizens of higher social
status who had fallen on hard times (scholars always posit the example of a
Roman who lost his fortune in the a lawsuit) or
economically marginal citizens without a trade, career options were limited to
the army (with a strict disciplinary system), teaching (for the literate who
were willing to fight for fees) and the gladiatorial schools.
Another category of gladiator that should interest us is women.
Women fought as gladiators. The author of an inscription from Pompeii boasts
that he was the first editor in his town to bring women into the arena. The
practice appears to have been widespread and did not end until specifically
outlawed by the Emperor Septimius Severus in the early 3rd century, AD The
female gladiator is perhaps the most marginal symbol available and there was no
doubt some prurient interest aroused by these spectacles. The presence of women
in the arena, however, suggests that Romans looked upon the particular virtus
[skill in killing and dying well] gladiators symbolized as something that
existed almost before gender.
There were also citizens, particularly during the Principate,
who fought as gladiators as a political statement. Under the Republic, the
marginal social status of the gladiator reinforced Roman belief in the superior
status of citizens. As Rome suffered civil war and then virtual monarchy,
members of the elite would sometimes choose to fight in the arena as a way of
demonstrating that the Augustan ideology of the "Republic Restored"
was so much bunk. All citizens, they suggested, now were no better than slaves.
Conversely, some Emperors, themselves became obsessed with arena. Caligula
forced free born citizens to fight as gladiators. The Emperor Commodus is said
to have fought as a gladiator in 1000 contests. These "bad" Emperors,
who were themselves liminal figures, marking the line between divine and
mortal, used the arena to demonstrate their authority and diminish that of the
elite. Emperors who appeared as gladiators did what no citizen should dare to
do. Emperors who compelled citizens to appear as gladiators demonstrated that
mere citizen status meant nothing when compared with imperial status.
Romans accepted and supported the Principate, however, because
emperors implicitly promised to maintain the integrity of Rome's complex
hierarchy of social status. "Good" emperors were sensitive to the
complexity of their power relations with Romans across the penumbra of statuses
within Roman society. A "good" emperor appeared at the games, and
attended to the populace's expression of their will. A "good" Emperor
supported the spectacles as a way of demonstrating the ability of Rome to
protect its citizenry from internal threats to its law and order, and the
historic ability of Rome to spread this protection across the Mediterranean
basin and beyond. A "good" Emperor, thus enjoyed the games, but not
too much.
How were they trained?
While the prospect of taking the gladiator's oath no doubt
horrifies us, relative to the life Romans at the economic margin enjoyed,
conditions in gladiatorial schools were not that bad. It is true that the
conditions in the school where Spartacus trained were bad enough to spark the
worst slave revolt in Roman history. However, this school was an anomaly.
Owners and trainers conceived of gladiators as an investment. Skimping on the
schools simply didn't make sense. Gladiators received a reasonable diet (a high
protein/fat diet in training) and good (for the day) medical care. They formed
enduring relationships with women that resulted in children, and if they
survived to freedom, legally recognized marriages and families. Within the
community of gladiators they, like all Romans, formed
collegia and shared a cult worship of the god Hercules. In fact, in a bizarre
way, the gladiatorial schools seem to have provided their inhabitants with a
vital, united and committed community (admittedly predicated on the possibility
that one might have to kill another). Gladiators were trained not merely how to
fight well, but how to make an efficient killing blow and, if defeated, how to
offer one's body for the most effective coup de grace. In cases where
gladiators or bestarii were mortally wounded in the arena, the accepted
practice seems to have been to remove them from public view before executing
the killing blow. Typically gladiators fought a
handful of matches a year, and would, if they survived, win there
freedom after a number (which varied widely depending on time and place) their
freedom. Even gladiators who lost a match could survive if the audience pleaded
their case to the editor.
Despite their servile and "outlaw" legal and social
status, gladiators often enjoyed great social prestige. Young Roman boys liked
to hang out at gladiator schools and even take lessons there (parents hated
this). Roman matrons particularly enjoyed having affairs with gladiators (or at
least Roman men often worried that they did). The 'pop' celebrity of
gladiators, like the 'pop' celebrity of athletes today, indicates the
extraordinary importance of the battles they fought in the arena to the construction
and maintenance of Romanitas.
1001Titus.doc
Heavy
Seneca: his Influence on Shakespeare's Tragedies
Brian Arkins
CLASSICS IRELAND
1995 Volume 2
University College Dublin, Ireland
1
Immensely popular throughout sixteenth and seventeenth century
Europe, Seneca's eight tragedies influenced not only Racine and Corneille, but
also Shakespeare - as this essay sets out to show. Whether or not Seneca's
plays were originally designed for performance in the theatre, they have been
and are being performed: Ted Hughes' version of Oedipus is a case in point.
Seneca's tragedies, like those of the Athenian dramatists in the fifth century,
deal with Greek myth: Hercules Furens, Agamemnon, Thyestes, Oedipus, Medea,
Phaedra, The Trojan Women, The Phoenician Women. But Seneca is radically
different from his Greek predecessors: since his play The Trojan Women puts on
stage the murder of both Polyxena, and Astyanax, and since it adds a sinister,
supernatural element, it is very unlike Euripides' play of the same title and
must be examined on its own terms.
Which brings us to the crucial point about Seneca's tragedies:
the Roman dramatist uses Greek material to comment obliquely on the outrages of
Nero's court and describes a world that is radically evil. These plays are
therefore much more pessimistic than most Greek tragedies and might almost be
termed religious drama. Typically in a Senecan
tragedy, we begin with a Cloud of Evil, then witness the defeat of Reason by
Evil, and finally experience the Triumph of Evil - as in The Trojan Women. It
is therefore no surprise that a century which has witnessed the Holocaust, the
Gulags, Hiroshima and much else should be engaged in the rehabilitation of
Seneca's tragedies. Far from being contemptible as drama, these tragedies speak
directly to our experience.
2
'No author exercised a wider or deeper influence upon the
Elizabethan mind or upon the Elizabethan form of tragedy than did Seneca'.(1) So, rightly, T.S. Eliot. That influence is seen most
obviously in Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy of 1586, in Webster's The Duchess of
Malfy of 1614 and in the plays of Marston, but Seneca (2) is also crucial to Shakespeare,(3) who may well have read his plays in Latin at
Stratford grammar school. The revenge tragedies Titus Andronicus and Hamlet
derive from Seneca, as do those plays of vaulting ambition Richard III and
Macbeth; and Seneca is extensively burlesqued in the comedy A Midsummer Night's
Dream.
For the dramatists of the Renaissance in France, in Italy, and
in England, Classical tragedy means the ten Latin plays of Seneca, not
Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides; as the Martindales say, 'Seneca was the
closest Shakespeare ever got to Greek tragedy'.(4) Indeed Francis Meres sees
Shakespeare as a new Seneca: 'As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for
Comedy and Tragedy among the Latins; so Shakespeare among the English is the
most excellent in both kinds for the stage'.(5) No wonder, then, that
Shakespeare himself, when he satirizes contemporary dramatists who mix the four
recognized types of drama to the customer's taste, uses Seneca as a touchstone:
'Seneca cannot be too heavy nor Plautus too light' (Hamlet 2.2.396-97).
For Seneca was in the Elizabethan air. Between 1551 and 1563
Cambridge was very Senecan, with two performances of The Trojan Women, two
performances of Medea, and one of Oedipus; a landmark was clearly the staging
of The Trojan Women, one of Seneca's best plays, in 1551. Then the first
English tragedy Gorboduc, performed in 1562, was clearly Romanizing and was
praised by Sidney as 'climbing to the height of Seneca his style'. And, not
least, the Tenne Tragedies of Seneca were translated into English by Jasper
Heywood and others between 1559 and 1581, when they were published as a single
book. These translations, which, as Eliot says, have 'considerable poetic charm
and quite adequate accuracy, with occasional flashes of real beauty',(6) exercised a substantial influence on Elizabethan
dramatists.
3
Shakespeare's most Senecan plays are Titus Andronicus, Hamlet , Richard III, and Macbeth, and the plays of Seneca
that most contribute to these are The Trojan Women, Phaedra, Thyestes,
Agamemnon and Hercules Furens. What Shakespeare derived from Seneca are the
following seven general features, mediated, in part, through Italian Senecan
plays such as the Orbecche of Cinthio (1541):
1. An obsession with scelus (= crime).
2. A preoccupation with
torture, mutilation, incest and corpses - as in Titus Andronicus.
3. A stress on
witchcraft and the supernatural - as in Macbeth.
4. The existence of
vaulting ambition in the prince - as in Richard III and Macbeth.
5. The ghost that calls
for revenge - as in Hamlet and Macbeth.
6. The
self-dramatization of the hero, especially as he dies - as in Hamlet and Macbeth.(7)
7. The frequent use of
stichomythia in dialogue, which derives from passages like Medea 168 - as in
Richard III and Hamlet .
4
Seneca's influence is paramount in two of Shakespeare's revenge
tragedies, Titus Andronicus and Hamlet . Widely
regarded as Shakespeare's most Senecan play, Titus Andronicus, whose historical
background is largely that of the fifth and sixth centuries AD, moves, like the
plays of Seneca, 'towards a disaster for which the cause is established in the
first minutes of action'.(8) First produced in the years 1590-92 and virtually
absent from the London stage for centuries because of its horrors, Titus
Andronicus invites us to contemplate multiple murders, human sacrifice, the
cutting off of Titus' hand, the severed heads of Titus' sons, the rape, murder,
and dismemberment of Lavinia, and a cannibal feast, in which Titus' mad cookery
of Tamora's sons comes straight out of Seneca's Thyestes;(9) as Muir says, 'It
is a nice irony that Shakespeare's most shocking play should be closest in
spirit to the classics'.(10)
Here Seneca is teaching Shakespeare how to make scelus, crime, a word that occurs more
than 200 times in Seneca's plays, 'the central principle of tragic action and
design, how to focus on the crime, the perpetrators, the victims, and on the
moral framework violated'.(11) Indeed two of the most common tags from Seneca
in Elizabethan drama deal with scelus:
'for crimes the safe way always leads through more crimes' (Agamemnon 115) and
'Great crimes you don't avenge, unless you outdo them', which comes, significantly,
from Thyestes (195-96). The word scelus,
crime, occurs 38 times in Seneca's play Thyestes, which is an important
influence on Titus Andronicus.
The revenge play, which is launched by scelus, comes in three phases, consisting of:
1. the appearance of
the ghost or Fury;
2. the making of the
revenger; and
3. the ritual revenge itself.(12)
Shakespeare adapts this pattern in Titus Andronicus by sharing
the revenge among three people, Tamora, who impersonates Revenge, Titus and
Aaron. The most obvious representative of evil in the play - he is called by
Waith 'an embodiment of evil'(13) - the Moorish barbarian, Aaron, clearly
recalls the hateful figure of Atreus in Seneca's Thyestes. But Titus, who, as a
noble Roman father, contrasts with Aaron, turns into an avenger himself and
serves up her children for Tamora to eat in a cannibal feast; 'Rome is but a
wilderness of tigers' (3.1.54). For, as we see from Orbecche, Gordobuc, and The
Misfortunes of Arthur, the spectacle of Kindermord haunted the Renaissance.
For Titus Andronicus and for other plays, what Seneca offers
Shakespeare, above all else, is an inimical universe in which evil triumphs(14) - as the two direct quotations from Seneca's
Phaedra attest. For Demetrius adapts Phaedra 1180 on the subject of Hell to
articulate 'his consuming lust for Lavinia; his hell is emotional and
psychological, a product of unruly passion',(15) while
Titus' outburst about the rapists' actions adapts Phaedra 671-72 to question
God's tolerance of evil.
5
Discussion of Seneca's influence on Hamlet must begin with the
remarks of Thomas Nashe:
Yet English Seneca read by candle light yeeldes manie good
sentences, as Bloud is a beggar, and so foorth; and, if you intreate him faire
in a frostie morning, he will affoord you whole Hamlets, I should say handfulls
of tragicall speaches. But O griefe! tempus edax rerum, what's that will last
alwaies? The sea exhaled by droppes will in continance be drie, and Seneca led
bloud line by line and page by page at length must needes die to our stage.(16)
It is not indeed that specific plays of Seneca's lie behind Hamlet , but that the whole tone of the play is Seneca; as
Doran puts it, 'Hamlet is certainly not much like any play of Seneca's one can
name, but Seneca is undoubtedly one of the effective ingredients in the
emotional charge of Hamlet . Hamlet without Seneca is
inconceivable' (17).
Thematically, what Seneca gives to Hamlet is the general theme
of revenge for a great wrong done; the ghost of Hamlet 's father that seeks
such a revenge and the extreme passion that characterizes Hamlet himself.
Stylistically, what Seneca gives to Hamlet is the meditative soliloquy and
stichomythia. There is therefore a general Senecan atmosphere in the play; as
Miola says, 'The ghosts of Senecan drama - Atreus, Hercules, Pyrrhus,
Clytemnestra, Aegisthus, Orestes, Electra - and of neo-Senecan drama - Hieronimo,
Titus, Lucianus - hover in the background of Hamlet ,
providing perspective on character and action'.(18)
Central to that perspective is the fact that Senecan conventions
are often transformed in Hamlet . For example, Hamlet
himself is not an avenger of the Senecan type who ruthlessly pursues his
victim, but is something quite different, a man who, notoriously, wavers
constantly before committing himself to revenge. Here Shakespeare exploits the
Renaissance topos of an opposition between passionate action on the one hand
and the Stoic ideal that passion is an infirmity on the other ('Give me that
man that is not passion's slave'); at times, Hamlet sets out to be the Senecan
avenger, at other times, he regards revenge with extreme misgivings. On the
other hand, Claudius who displays lust, vengefulness, and greed for power is
straight out of Seneca's Aegisthus.(19)
The Senecan conventions are altered in other ways. While the
ghost of Hamlet's father derives from the ghosts in Seneca's Agamemnon and
Thyestes, unlike them, Hamlet's father modifies the call for revenge; 'nor let
thy soul contrive / Against thy mother ought'. Again, Hamlet 's famous
meditative soliloquy 'To be or not to be' derives from a choral ode in Seneca's
The Trojan Women lines 371-81. (20)
6
Two of Shakespeare's plays of vaulting ambition in the prince,
Richard III and Macbeth are also strongly influenced by Seneca. Richard III is
called by Muir 'the most Senecan of Shakespeare's plays'(21) and the play is
clearly indebted to Hercules Furens, Phaedra and The Trojan Women. Richard
himself is a typically Senecan tyrant, a gloomy, introspective,
self-dramatizing hero, 'a spectacular character who dares scelus',(22) he exemplifies extremely well
the fact that evil is most potent when it lodges in the heart of the prince -
as with Thyestes. Significantly, he revises that famous Senecan tag to 'But I
am in / so far in blood that sin will pluck on sin' (4.2.63-4).
One of the main Senecan features of Richard III is that
Gloucester's wooing of Anne derives from Lycus' wooing of Megera in Hercules
Furens;(23) as Hunter says, 'The whole Lycus/Megera situation in Hercules
Furens - the usurping monarch seeking to strengthen his rule by forcing
marriage on the wife of the vanished ruler - seems to be echoed in this
scene'.(24) To be specific: in both plays, there are similar preparations for
entrance; appeals to general principles; the tyrant's wish for a softer answer,
after a bitter one; his justification for past slaughter; and the violent
reaction of the women who, clad in mourning, want the tyrant's death.
The climax of the wooing scene, the sword sequence, comes from
Seneca's Phaedra. Just as the outraged Hippolytus holds a sword at the breast
of the self-confessed criminal lover, Phaedra, who invites the stroke, so the
outraged Anne holds a sword at the breast of the criminal lover, Gloucester,
who invited the stroke. Faced with an eroticization of the situation, both
Hippolytus and Anne drop the sword.
Finally, another important Senecan element in Richard III is
found in the kommos (lamentation) of
Act 4, scene 4: the lamenting women, led by Margaret, who seeks to revile the
tyrant, derive from the lamenting women in The Trojan Women, led by Hecuba.
7
Macbeth, which was probably first performed at the Globe in 1606
and is one of the shortest of Shakespeare's plays, is 'a sophisticated
recension of Senecan elements(25) and so exemplifies
what Hazlitt called 'the wildness of the imagination'. The Martindales usefully
sum up Seneca's influence on Macbeth: 'There are a number of features in
Macbeth - the heated rhetoric, the brooding sense of evil, the preoccupation with
power, the obsessive introspection, the claustrophobic images of cosmic
destruction - which recall Seneca's manner and interest, together with an
unusually high number of passages which seem to derive from his plays.(26)
Indeed the play constitutes Shakespeare's 'most profound and mature vision of
evil(27) and Macbeth himself is a criminal, an immoral man in a moral universe,
whose 'choice of evil unleashes catastrophic consequences which inflict the
whole cosmos'(28) - a typically Senecan scenario. But Macbeth differs from
Richard III: whereas Richard is the villain as hero, Macbeth is a hero who
becomes a villain.(29)
Detailed analysis of how Seneca's plays influence Macbeth must
begin with Shakespeare's appropriation of two epigrams of Seneca that haunt the
Elizabethan imagination; as Eliot says of Seneca, 'again and again the
epigrammatic observation on life or death is put in the most telling way at the
most telling moment'.(30) At Agamemnon 115 Clytemnestra says per scelera semper
sceleribus tutum est iter, which Studley translates as 'The softest path to
mischiefe is by mischiefe open still'; this becomes Macbeth's 'Things bad begun
make strong themselves by ill' (3.2.55). At Phaedra 607 Phaedra says curae
leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent ,which Studley
translates as 'Light cores have words at will, but great doe make
us aghast''; this becomes Malcolm's 'the grief, that does not speak,/Whisters the o'er fraught heart, and bids it break'
(4.3.209-10).
But the Senecan play that most influences Macbeth is Hercules
Furens, which Shakespeare must have re-read at this time. When, after the
murder of Duncan, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth vainly hope to cleanse their
blood-stained hands they draw not only on Phaedra 715-18, but also on Hercules
Furens 1323-26. In Phaedra Hippolytus cries out after being polluted by his
stepmother's attempted seduction:
What Tanais will wash me
or what Maeotis
pressing barbarous floods into the Pontic sea?
Not the mighty father
himself with all his Ocean
will expiate such a crime.
In Hercules Furens Hercules cries out after killing his
children:
What Tanais or what Nile
or what Tigris
raging with Persian water or what fierce Rhine
or Tagus flowing swollen with the golden sand of Spain
will cleanse this hand?
Compare Macbeth's soliloquy (2.2.59-62);
Will all great Neptune's
ocean wash this blood
clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas
incarnadine
Making the green one red.
and Lady Macbeth (5.1.48-49): 'There's the smell of blood still:
all the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand'.
Then Macbeth's famous soliloquy at the end of the play certainly
derives from a passage in Hercules Furens, in which Hercules confronts the ruin
of his life (1258-61):
There is no reason for me
to hold, to delay my life
longer in this light; I have lost all my advantages,
mind, arms, fame, wife, children,
even my madness. No one can be cured of a
polluted mind; crime must be cured by death.
This becomes (5.3.22-26)
I have lived long enough:
my way of life
Is fall'n into the sere,
the yellow leaf;
And that which should
accompany old age,
As honour, love,
obedience, troops of friends,
I must not look to have
...
and (5.3.40)
Canst thou not minister
to a mind diseas'd?
Next, Macbeth's assertion (1.7.7) that 'We but teach / Bloody
instructions, which being taught, return / To plague th' inventor' echoes
Theseus' dictum in Hercules Furens that 'What each has done he suffers; the
crime seeks out the author and the guilty one is crushed by his own form of
guilt. And, finally, Macbeth's reflection on Sleep in Act 2, scene 2, is based
on the Chorus' reflections on Sleep in Hercules Furens 1065-81 (as well as in
Ovid); with Macbeth's 'Sleep that knits up the revell'd sleeve of care, / The
death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, / Balm of hurt minds, great
Nature's second course, / Chief nourisher in Life's feast', compare, in
Heywood's translation 'And then O tamer best / O sleep of toyles, the
quietnesse of mynde / of all the lyfe of man the better parte'.
In yet another debt to Seneca, Shakespeare makes Lady Macbeth
find a paradigm for atrocious masculine daring in the character of Medea.(31)
Amid a framework of ritual incantation, Lady Macbeth's countenancing of
infanticide recalls Medea's murder of her children, and her command to the
Spirits to 'unsex me here' recalls Medea's invocation to her own soul to 'Exile
all foolish female feare and pity from thy Minde' (Studley). Finally, behind
the secret, black and midnight hags who seek to bring about the damnation of
Macbeth, lie the Furies of Greek mythology and of Seneca's Thyestes, terrible
avenging sisters who are synonymous with witches and devils.(32)
This astonishing catalogue of Senecan influence means that
Macbeth rather than Richard III is 'the most Senecan of all Shakespeare's plays',(33) and, since it is also one of Shakespeare's greatest
plays, we can see that Seneca's influence was enormously beneficial.
8
To conclude, the appeal of Seneca's plays for the Elizabethan
age and for the modern age is not far to seek: Seneca studies evil with great
diligence and, in particular, evil in the prince, and both those ages are very
well versed in evil. In Seneca's plays and their Elizabethan recensions, in the
revenge plays Titus Andronicus and Hamlet , and in the
plays of vaulting ambition Richard III and Macbeth, evil is a palpable presence
and lodges especially in the heart of the prince. In Seneca and in Shakespeare,
we encounter first a Cloud of Evil, then the defeat of Reason by Evil, and,
finally, the triumph of Evil.
All this is caviar to the age of Dachau and Auschwitz, of
Hiroshima and Nagasaki, of Kampuchea, Northern Ireland, Bosnia. Horror does not
turn us off, as it turned off the Victorians, who could not handle Seneca. Nor
did horror turn off the Elizabethans, who lived in an age with its own
uncertainties, with the Tower, the bear-baiting, the mob. Consequently,
Shakespeare could embrace with éclat what has been called the Kingdom of
Violence, could give us the horrors and crimes of Titus Andronicus, revenge, filicide,
cannibal feast.
The significance of Seneca for Shakespeare and for our time can
be gauged from the following quotation from Peter Brook, who directed a
landmark production of Titus Andronicus at Stratford in 1955, with Lawrence
Olivier as Titus:(34)
The real appeal of Titus (over theoretically "greater"
plays like Hamlet and Lear) was that abstract - stylized - Roman classical
though it appeared to be, it was obviously for everyone in the audience about
the most modern of emotions - about violence, hatred, cruelty, pain - in a form
that because unrealistic transcended the anecdote and became for each audience
quite abstract and thus totally real.
FOOTNOTES
1 T.S.Eliot, Selected Essays (1951),65.
2 For Seneca's plays, see esp. L.J. Herington Arion 5 (1966),
422-71, A.J. Boyle, Ramus 16 (1987), 78-101.
3 For Seneca and Shakespeare see esp. R.S. Miola, Shakespeare
and Classical Tragedy - The Influence of Seneca (1992), also C. & M.
Martindale, Shakespeare and the Uses of Antiquity (1990), 29-44.
4 Martindales (n.3), 44.
5 Elizabethan Critical Essays, ed. G.Gregory
Smith (1971), vol.2, 317-318.
6 Eliot (n.1), 65-66.
7 For this self-dramatization see T.S. Eliot 'Shakespeare and
the Stoicism of Seneca' in Selected Essays (n.1), 126-140.
8 E.M. Waith, Titus Andronicus (1984) 69.
9 Cf. Martindales (n.1), 47: 'Especially close to Titus in
atmosphere is Thyestes, with its brooding sense of evil and its climax in a
cannibal feast.'
10 K.Muir, The Sources of Shakespeare's
Plays (1977) 23.
11 Miola (n.3), 16.
12 P. Mercer, Hamlet and the Acting of Revenge (1987).
13 Waith (n.8), 64.
14 Cf. Herington (n.2).
15 Miola (n.3), 14.
16 Elizabethan Critical Essays (n.5), vol. 1, 312.
17 M. Doran, Endeavours of Art: A Study of Form in Elizabethan
Drama (1954)16.
18 Miola (n.3), 52.
19 W.A. Armstrong, Review of English Studies 24 (1948), 34.
20 Cf. Miola (n.3), 38.
21 Muir (n.10), 37.
22 Miola (n.3), 91.
23 H.G. Brooks, Modern Language Review 75 (1980), 728-37.
24 G.K. Hunter, Richard III (The Revels Plays), 138.
25 Miola (n.3), 93. He deals with Macbeth at pp. 92-121.
26 Martindales (n.3), 37.
27 G. Wilson Knight, The Wheel of Fire (1961),140.
28 Martindales (n.3), 38.
29 K. Muir, Macbeth (1957), lxi.
30 Eliot (n.1), 74.
31 I-S. Ewbank, Shakespeare Survey, 19 (1966) 82-94.
32 A.R. McGee, Shakespeare Survey, 19 (1966) 55-67.
33 See n.21.
34 Quoted in Waith (n.8), 55-56.
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ISSN 0791-9417
--------------------------------
From Insights, 1990
Titus
Andronicus: Writing What Was Selling
Titus Andronicus, written
at least by 1594, represents one of the first plays by a young playwright
struggling to gain a reputation. London theatre audiences of the time were
enamored with gory “revenge” plays, and it is entirely logical that Shakespeare
would try his hand at writing what was selling.
For source materials and
inspiration, the aspiring playwright had a long list from which to choose.
Ovid’s Metamorphoses provided many of the legends adapted for Titus Andronicus;
Seneca’s Thyestes, and Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy, as well as the phenomenal
stage successes of Marlowe’s The Jew of Malta and Tamburlaine, were before the
young Shakespeare, who paid them all the flattery of imitation.
Titus Andronicus also
foreshadows elements Shakespeare later developed more fully in Hamlet (revenge
upon his father’s killer); Coriolanus (ingratitude of Rome toward its honored
general); Julius Caesar (Roman political factionalism); Othello (the Moor Aaron,
exulting in evil for the sheer joy of it prefigures Iago); and King Lear
(infirm old age confronted by human bestiality).
Titus Andronicus,
however, does not address these issues with the compassion and humanity offered
by the later, more mature plays. Rather it evokes pathos on behalf of gruesome
suffering. It is a revenge play in the sensational vein of Shakespeare’s immediate
predecessors, focusing on violence, gore and horror. And it sold.
It was given twice within
ten days in 1594, a sure evidence of its popularity.
It did well enough, in fact, to elicit a sour comment from Ben Jonson, who was
appalled with the success of what he took to be a bloody and sensational piece
of bombastic rhetoric.
Productions were recorded
throughout the 1600s, and adaptations in the 1700s made Aaron the Moor into the
play’s dominating figure. By the time of Queen Victoria, a play with so much
onstage violence was certain to encounter resistance, and Titus Andronicus was
seen only once during the 1800s, in a version in which “every expression
calculated to offend the ear has been studiously avoided.” In our own time, and
viewed as a political allegory or a period piece, Peter Brook’s striking 1955
production at Stratford-upon-Avon, with Laurence Olivier as Titus and Vivien
Leigh as Lavinia, was deeply moving.
A difficulty of putting
this play on the stage is that its pure goriness can become comic. The play
contains a dozen killings, most of them on stage. It adds multiple mutilations.
Detached heads, hands, and stumps are much in evidence, and a white empress has
a black baby by her Moorish paramour. The sight of Lavinia walking around with
two stumps for hands and her tongue cut out and Titus with his stump of a hand,
and the baking of human pies at the end, can make the audience laugh because it
all seems so “gross.”
Be reminded the revenge
drama was popular when Shakespeare began to write. Even today’s motion pictures
capitalize on the proven (if temporary) audience appeal of a particular genre,
and twenty years later Shakespeare would likely have agreed Titus Andronicus
was an old-fashioned play. Gruesome though much of its action is, it far
transcends most of the plays Shakespeare was imitating.
The allegory for
Elizabethans, and perhaps for our time, may be that even golden ages come to an
end, in blood, torture and barbarism. Rome, the greatest civilization the world
had known, had fallen. How could subsequent empires, no matter how splendid, evade
the same fate?
Titus Andronicus: "And I Will Be Revenged
on Them All"
By Jane S. Carducci
From Souvenir Program, 1990
Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus (c. 1594) is so full of cruelties
that the modern theater-goer may find it hard to disagree with T. S. Eliot's
view of this melodrama as "one of the stupidest and most uninspired plays
ever written." One critic, S. Clark Hulse, has even calculated the
accumulated horrors in Titus: “It has 14 killings, 9 of them on stage, 6
severed members, 1 rape (or 2 or 3, depending on how you count), 1 live burial,
1 case of insanity, and 1 of cannibalism--an average of 5.2 atrocities per act,
or one for every 97 lines.”
More generously, we might consider Titus in its immediate
literary context: that of the Revenge Tragedy, popular during the Age of
Elizabeth. This genre followed the dramatic design of Seneca's Roman tragedies,
especially his drama Thyestes (c. 65 AD)--which
included the horrors of rape, murder, severed hands, and cannibalism. In
England this tradition began with The Spanish Tragedy (c. 1586) by Thomas Kyd,
who first accommodated Seneca to the Elizabethan stage. Kyd inspired numerous
spin-offs other than Titus Andronicus: Antonio's Revenge (1599) by John
Marston, Hamlet (1601) by William Shakespeare, Bussy d'Ambois (c. 1604), The
Revenge of Bussy d'Ambois (c. 1610) by George Chapman, The Revenger's Tragedy
(1607), and The Atheist's Tragedy (c. 1611), both of which are attributed to
Cyril Tourneur.
Ideally, these revenge plays would consist of three elements:
first, firm character development; second, a well-constructed plot; and third,
complete action (i.e., a beginning, middle, and end). In the beginning is
murder, the end, vengeance; the job of the dramatist is to skillfully bridge
the gap. Alas, the ideal revenge tragedy was reached only once with
Shakespeare's masterpiece, Hamlet. Most of the revenge plays degenerated from
complete action to episodic structure and from Aristotle's "pity and terror"
to "pity and horror."
The dramatic pattern of Titus Andronicus closely follows that of
the other revenge plays. Titus, as avenger, must become a villain because,
according to the Elizabethan view, vengeance properly belongs to God alone.
Marcus, Titus's brother, strengthens this view by insisting on the wickedness
of vengeful acts. Besides the motive of revenge, other features of this genre
include pretended or actual madness, delay in the action, blood and
sensationalism, stoicism, hyperbole, soliloquy, and stichomythic dialogue (a
rhetorical device where characters speak alternate single lines).
For example, Titus goes mad after he leaves the forest in
II.iii. and never recovers his sanity. Second, the action in Titus is delayed:
Titus knows his enemies from the beginning of Act IV, but waits until Tamora's
plot for his chance to serve her the Thyestean banquet. Additionally,
Shakespeare displays in Titus the most brutal of Senecan horrors with
"murders, rapes, and massacres,/ Acts of black
night, abominable deeds,/ Complots of mischief,
treason, villainies/ Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed" (V.i.63-6).
Fourth, these Roman men, while in Rome, represent a Senecan stoic silence,
similar to the "real" men of today who are often defined as men of
action, yet personally mute.
Furthermore, Shakespeare adopts some of Seneca's rhetorical
devices. Titus consists of many long, didactic speeches in a florid and
hyperbolic style (N.B. Marcus's reaction to Lavinia's mutilation in II.iv,11-58
or Titus's apostrophe to the earth III.i.12-26). Sixth, stichomythia fills the
play and can be experienced more recently in the familiar verbal parry between
the television characters Mattie and David on Moonlighting. In Titus, for
example, Aaron spars with Demetrius and Chiron:
Demetrius: Villain, what
hast thou done?
Aaron: That which thou
canst not undo.
Chiron: Thou hast undone
our mother.
Aaron: Villain, I have
done thy mother.
Demetrius: And therein,
hellish dog, thou hast undone her. (4.2.73-77)
Even though it follows in the Senecan tradition of bombast and
brutality, Titus is especially savage. Again T. S. Eliot comments: "No
doubt. . .Titus Andronicus. . .would have made the living Seneca shudder with
genuine aesthetic horror." Finally, we feel relief and even comfort in
returning to the court and the civil order of Rome. Lucius assures us that he
will "govern so/ To heal Rome's harms and wipe away her woe"
(V.iii.147-8). But, even as a modern audience
accustomed to horror movies (and, indeed, even the revenge themes found in
Chuck Norris's karate movies or Charles Bronson's Death Wish series), we wish
that the playwright would reverse frame, knitting "these broken limbs
again into one body" (V.iii.72). Since, of course, this cannot happen, we
must settle, like Titus's grandson, to "leave these bitter deep
laments" and to be made "merry with some pleasing tale"
(III.ii.46-47).-
Julie Taymor's Titus: Deciding Not to Cut
Literature Film Quarterly, 2004
by Marti, Cecile
The first time I saw Julie Taymor's Titus, I was both fascinated
and horrified: fascinated by the boldness and cleverness of the iconography and
horrified by the various forms of violence to which the characters' bodies were
submitted. This reminded me of the early modern literary genre of the
anatomical blazon and of the spectacular dissections that took place in the
anatomy theatres during the second part of the sixteenth century and the first
part of the seventeenth century throughout Europe. All Renaissance artists were strongly
influenced by the mixed feelings of fascination and horror inspired by those
public dissections, and Shakespeare was no exception to the trend insofar as
various appropriations of and references to the blazon are disseminated in his
sonnets (cf. sonnets 20, 23, or 145) and plays (Twelfth Night, Coriolanus,
Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, Julius Caesar, or Titus Andronicus). As David Hillman
and Carla Mazzio state: "Parts of the body are scattered throughout the
literary and cultural texts of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century
Europe."1 A few centuries later, the everlasting craze for hemoglobin,
scattered limbs, and big thrills is given full satisfaction on the screens.
Julie Taymor, in her adaptation of Shakespeare's Titus
Andronicus, has composed a strikingly visual reworking of Renaissance
"Baroque fantasies of the imagination."2 The trope of fragmentation
at the root of the anatomical blazon initiated by Clement Marot in 1535 is here
particularly analogous to the rhetoric of film editing developed in Titus.
Originally, the poetic partition of the female body and the subsequent praise
or denigration of the selected body parts were the constituting elements of the
anatomical blazon. As far as Titus and Lavinia are concerned, the anachronism
implied in a cinematic emblazoning of some of their body parts involves a
fracture of bodily and gender representations as well as a shift in intention
from the blasonneurs' point of view. Depriving the human body (most often
female) of its wholeness in an attempt to objectify it, annihilating any trace
of identity (here again feminine), and eventually subduing it was the
profession of faith of the early modern blazoners. The desire to dissect a body
discursively and impose a dominion upon a selected body part stems mainly from
assumptions that: ". . . the part, in the early modern period, becomes a
subject, both in the sense of being 'subjected'-of being isolated and
disempowered-and of being 'subjected'-imagined to be endowed with qualities of
intention and subjectivity."3
Advertisement
Representations of corporeality are also central to Titus
Andronicus where the body's fragmentation and its loss of coherence acquire a
collective perspective and become a synecdoche of political havoc and social
dismantlement. It is thus through the disintegrated bodies of Titus and Lavinia
that the politics of national threat and racial invasion get worked out. On the
other hand, the emblazoning process of the editor of Taymor film, Francoise
Bonnot, does not obey the same early modern imperatives of bodily conquest and
dominion in Titus-the sadistic load contained in a Renaissance blazon is not
here clearly perceptible-for if film editing is essentially based on
deconstructive, paradigmatic methods (cutting), most of the time it aims at
constructing coherent narratives and characters.
As far as Titus is concerned, the repeated shots of body parts
(mostly close-ups) stand for the anaphora upon which the anatomical blazon is
based and which is so prominent in Shakespeare's text (becoming a kind of
throbbing and haunting litany). The selected body parts emblazoned in Taymor's
Titus are self-evidently the hand and the head. As the film unfolds,
alternations of praise and blame in the representations of these body parts
closely coalesce with the modulations of Titus's identity as his masculinity or
masculine attributes (reason, courage, honor, virtue, and virtus amongst
others) are ruthlessly assaulted from all sides. The whole interest or purpose
of anatomical blazons residing mainly in the second constituent of the genre,
the deconstruction of Titus's praise and masculine gendering that is
established in his first sequences, will occupy the rest of the film.
If we now move on to the sequence corresponding to the second
part of the play's 3.1, a radical change has occurred in the way Titus's body
is edited. Not only has the cutting rhythm been modified, but also the camera
work has undergone a spectacular transformation as far as the eponymous
character is concerned. The sequence I am referring to displays how Titus
accepts the loss of his left hand in an attempt to save his sons' lives.
It is quite fascinating how
the carnivalesque suddenly breaks into the household of the Andronici, confined
as it has been within the limits of the Goths' sphere of influence until this
sequence. Various images of carnival and grotesque that are akin to the texts
by Marot, Rabelais, or Nashe also pervade Shakespeare's Titus Andronicus and
are exacerbated in Taymor's Titus. The "kitchen sequence" in
particular is both gruesome and grotesque. Setting Titus's dismemberment in an
antique-looking kitchen is in itself a direct reference to Renaissance
grotesque -- this kitchen has nothing to do with a contemporary sterile one
where the food is hidden away in storage spaces. In fact, Titus's kitchen could
not possibly be more Rabelaisian: all kinds of vegetables and other provisions
are spread abundantly on the massive wooden tables while different sorts of
poultry as well as hams hang from butcher's hooks.
"Now is a time to storm":
Julie Taymor's Titus (2000)
Literature Film Quarterly, 2002
by Walker, Elsie
If you think you know Shakespeare...think again.'
Julie Taymor's Titus is a quintessentially postmodern
adaptation: playful, selfconscious, heterogeneous Like other postmodern
directors, Taymor plays with the make believe or illusionist conventions of
cinema. featuring "stagy" scenes, editing discontinuity, and
subjective camerawork rather than filming straight, "objective"
reality. Such Brecht Ian, distancing devices are typical of demystificatory
postmodern art.2 But Taymor describes Titus in anti-postmodern, perhaps
mystificatory terms. as a total, cross-cultural narrative encapsulating the
violence of the last two centuries. Also, the ending of Taymor's Titus,
pointing toward a world beyond her postmodern mise-en-scene, is (tentatively)
Romantic. I will focus on the postmodern form of Titus as well as the Romantic
conviction behind its making. I shall also explore how Taymor combines
"theatrical" and "filmic" modes of presentation, collapsing
distinctions between the artificial and the real because, for Taymor,
Shakespeare's "timeless" work prefigures twentieth-century events.
Like Luhrmann's William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (1997),
Taymor's Titus is an eclectic collage--she features heterogeneous film
iconography, an international cast, and her hybrid mise-en-scene emphasizes
temporal and cultural differences rather than cultural homogeneity. Rather than
"re-creating Rome, 400 A.D." Taymor's mise-en-scene evokes various
epochs, an ancient world of ritual, mausoleums and orgies along with elements
of modern America. Tanks. horses and carriages, limousines, bows and arrows, machine
guns, and electric Olympics-style torches are shown in close-up. Taymor and her
production designer, Dante Ferretti, feature imposing monoliths. Roman
aqueducts along with twentieth century fascist architecture, the government
buildings of Mussolini's time built to "recreate the glory of the ancient
Roman empire."3 The costumes by Milena Canonero are not the "clothes
for a costume drama," but an anachronistic combination of togas and runway
chic, business suits and leathers, ancient and ultra modern. Titus (Anthony
Hopkins), for example, begins wearing ancient battle dress and war paint,
changes to an Eisenhower jacket, to a baggy gray jumper and corduroy pants, to
his all-white cook's outfit-the clothes mark his changing role from austere
victor (vulnerable in assuming his invulnerability), a politician, an
"avuncular old man," to a picture of professionalism executing
revenge. By contrast, Lavinia (Laura Fraser) is first dressed "like a
Grace Kelly from the 1950s" or an "Italian Katherine Hepburn," a
"good girl" in little black gloves and a full bell skirt," but
after she is ravaged, Lavinia's torn and bloodied petticoats and her painterly
beauty evoke Degas's ballerinas (Taymor 181 ).
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The eclecticism of this Titus may be inspired by the famous
drawing by Henry Peacham, the only surviving Elizabethan illustration of a
Shakespearean play. The drawing, perhaps drawn from a production of Titus,
shows a mix of costumes and postures, rather than revealing any attempt toward
an "authentic" holistic and unified presentation of ancient Rome.
Titus wears a toga but his soldiers are Elizabethan men-at-arms with halberds,
while Tamora's dress is vaguely medieval. As Jonathan Bate writes (in his editorial
introduction to Titus Andronicus), "there could be no better precedent for
modern productions which are determinedly eclectic in their dress, combining
modern and ancient, the present as well as the past" (43). Bate also
discusses the illustration's emblematic quality, fitting with "the way in
which the characters in the play so often seem to become emblems, to be frozen
into postures that are the very picture of supplication, grief or violent
revenge" (43). In Taymor's film, the actors use Stanislavskian,
method-acting techniques (for example, in his DVD commentary, Hopkins says that
Titus's "super objective becomes revenge"), but they are also
sometimes shown frozen in emblematic gestures-this combination of naturalistic
and "stylized" acting is discussed in more detail below.
Taymor's long-time collaborator, composer Elliot Goldenthal,
matches the eclecticism of her mise-en-scene and characterization with an
eclectic musical lexicon. Goldenthal wrote diverse music to play into the
psychology of individual characters, rather than bind things together in a wash
of homogenous sound: Titus is accompanied with orchestral and mass music-solemn
and complex like Monteverdi's choral works; Saturninus, the neo-fascist who
lives in Mussolini's palace, is associated with 1930s jazz music; Chiron and
Demetrius are associated with "chaotic" rock and heavy metal.
Goldenthal's diverse musical cues and Taymor's use of eclectic
cultural styles and referents to "anchor" the story-telling are
especially important considering that Titus Andronicus is one of Shakespeare's
lesser-known plays. Taymor also takes Luhrmann's use of film intertextuality,
incorporating various generic and stylistic visual templates, to a dizzying
extreme, including everything from cartoonish action to art-house horror.4 In
the first sequence of Titus, the entrance of the "clown" crashing
through the wall of a regular boy's kitchen alludes to both Loncraine's Richard
Ill (where Richard III crashes through Prince Edward's study) and The Last
Action Hero (1993) in which Arnold Schwarzenegger, as the action-movie Hamlet,
crashes into a regular boy's life. Taymor's final scene, with its bright
colors, the tableaux vivants, and horrendous subject matter, surely borrows
from Peter Greenaway's The Cook, The Thief His Wife and Her Lover (1989)-in
both films, nasty events are portrayed in a stylish way. Taymor's mix of
diverse filmic iconography underlines the disconcerting mixture of tone in
Titus in a new way for her own generation, for a primarily film-literate
audience.
Appendix A
List of films set in ancient Rome
From
Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
This page lists some
films set in the city of Rome during the Roman Kingdom, the Roman Republic or
the Roman Empire. Where films are only partly set in Rome, they are so noted.
The Roman Kingdom
Coriolanus: Hero
without a Country
The Roman Republic
·
Coriolanus (1984)
Second Punic War
·
Annibale
·
Hannibal –
Rome's Worst Nightmare
(2006)
·
Scipio
Africanus: The Defeat of Hannibal
Jupiter's
Darling (1955), set in Rome and its environs
The Centurion (1961)
Late Republic
Spartacus partly set in Rome (1960)
Spartacus (2004)
Spartacus: Blood
and Sand (2010)
Spartacus: Gods
of the Arena
(2011)
Julius Caesar
(TV miniseries) (2002)
Druids (2001)
Caesar the
Conqueror (1962)
A Queen for
Caesar (1962)
Carry On Cleo parody of Cleopatra,
set in the reign of Julius Caesar
(1964)
Cleopatra
(1934)
Cleopatra
(1963)
Cleopatra
(1999)
Julius Caesar (1953)
Julius Caesar (1970)
Empire (2005)
Rome (2005)
The Roman Empire
1st
century BC
Empire
(TV Series) (2005)
1st
century AD
Ben-Hur (1925 film) - this film is noteworthy for its color segments and
for the female nudity
in the parade sequence
Ben-Hur (1959)
partly set in Rome
Caligula (1979)
partly set in Rome
Demetrius and
the Gladiators
sequel to The Robe
I, Claudius (Never completed) (1937)
I, Claudius (BBC TV series) (1976)
The Life of
Brian (1979)
The Robe partly set in Rome (1953)
Reign of Nero
A Funny Thing
Happened on the Way to the Forum - a fleeting reference to the emperor is made when the
gladiatorial trainer in the Colosseum wants his hulking student to drive his
next victim "straight into Nero's box".
Barabbas (1961)
Quo Vadis (1951)
Quo Vadis (2001)
Flavian Dynasty
▪
The Last Days Of Pompeii (1935)
▪
The Last Days Of Pompeii (1959)
▪
Pompeii: The
Last Day (2003)
▪
Up Pompeii (1971)
▪
Up Pompeii! is set in 79 AD, yet
anachronistically shows Nero
still reigning 10 years after his death (BBC TV Series) (1969–1975)
▪
Titus Andronicus (1985)
101-110 AD
Reign of Hadrian
▪
Centurion disappearance of the Ninth Legion (2010)
▪
The Eagle disappearance of the Ninth Legion (2011)
▪
The Eagle of the
Ninth adaption of the novel
by Rosemary
Sutcliff. (2011)
Reign of Commodus
▪
The Fall of the
Roman Empire
latter half set in Rome (1964)
▪
Gladiator latter half set in Rome, partly a remake of The Fall of the
Roman Empire (2000)
260-272 AD
Reign of Diocletian
310-315 AD
▪
Fabiola
Late Empire
Appendix B
|
|
Ancient
Rome Timeline |
|
753 BC |
Foundation of Rome (according to
the standard Roman creation myth) |
|
600 BC |
The Etruscans establish cities from
northern to central Italy |
|
282 BC |
282-272: War with Pyrrhus |
|
264 BC |
264-241: War with Carthage (First
Punic War) |
|
218 BC |
Hannibal invades Italy |
|
135BC |
135-132 BC First Servile War
prompted by slave revolts |
|
73 BC |
73 - 71 BC Slave uprising led by
the gladiator called Spartacus |
|
64 BC |
Pompey captures Jerusalem |
|
45 BC |
Julius Caesar defeats Pompey to
become the first dictator of Rome |
|
44 BC |
Julius Caesar assassinated |
|
44 BC |
44-31BC The Triumvirate of Marc
Antony, Lepidus, and Octavian (later known as Caesar Augustus) become the
rulers of Rome |
|
31 BC |
Antony and Cleopatra are defeated
by Octavian |
|
27 BC |
Octavian becomes Caesar Augustus,
the first Roman emperor (“Princeps”) until 14AD |
|
0 |
(conventional) |
|
14AD |
Death of Augustus. Tiberius, stepson of Caesar Augustus, becomes emperor until
37AD |
|
29 AD (ca.) |
Crucifixion of Jesus in Jerusalem
and the origin of Christianity |
|
37 |
Gaius (Caligula) crowned Emperor |
|
41 |
Caligula is killed and Claudius
proclaimed Emperor |
|
54 |
Emperor Claudius dies (murdered?)
and Nero is proclaimed Emperor |
|
64 |
Fire destroyed much of Rome - the
Christians are blamed for the destruction |
|
|
|
68 |
The death of Nero ended the
Julio-Claudian dynasty |
|
|
|
68 - 69 |
“Year of Four Emperors” followed by
the beginning of the Flavian Dynasty by Vespasian |
|
|
|
75 - 80 |
The Roman emperors start to build
the Colloseum in Rome as a place of gladiatorial
combat |
|
|
|
180 |
Commodus succeeds his father Marcus
Aurelius and gains imperial power |
|
|
|
305 |
Constantine becomes the first
Christian emperor |
|
|
|
380 |
Christianity is declared the sole
religion of the Roman Empire by Theodosius I |
|
|
|
410 |
The Visigoths, led by Alaric, sack
Rome heralding the total decline of the Roman Empire |
|
|
|
455 |
The Vandals, led by Gaiseric, sack
Rome |
|
|
|
476 |
The last Roman Emperor, Romulus
Augustulus, was deposed by Odoacer, a German Goth |
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
||