tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/classics-618/articles
Classics – The Conversation
2024-02-09T13:35:44Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/221728
2024-02-09T13:35:44Z
2024-02-09T13:35:44Z
Love may be timeless, but the way we talk about it isn’t − the ancient Greeks’ ideas about desire challenge modern-day readers, lovers and even philosophers
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574185/original/file-20240207-31-3xrj56.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C3%2C1022%2C790&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The love story of Psyche and Eros − also known as Cupid − has survived since the days of Rome and Greece.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/stature-of-cupid-and-psyche-embracing-from-the-villa-news-photo/517391898?adppopup=true">Bettman via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Every year as Valentine’s Day approaches, people remind themselves that not all expressions of love fit the stereotypes of modern romance. V-Day cynics might plan <a href="https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/2023/02/02/when-is-galentines-day-2023/11154837002/">a “Galentines” night for female friends</a> or toast their platonic “Palentines” instead.</p>
<p>In other words, the holiday shines a cold light on the limits of our romantic imaginations, which hew to a familiar script. Two people are supposed to meet, <a href="https://theconversation.com/dont-underestimate-cupid-hes-not-the-chubby-cherub-you-associate-with-valentines-day-197735">the arrows of Cupid</a> strike them unwittingly, and they have no choice but to fall in love. They face obstacles, they overcome them, and then they run into each other’s arms. Love is a delightful sport, and neither reason nor the gods have anything to do with it. </p>
<p>This model of romance flows from Roman poetry, medieval chivalry and Renaissance literature, especially Shakespeare. But as <a href="https://dornsife.usc.edu/profile/david-albertson/">a professor of religion</a>, I study an alternative vision of eros: medieval Christian mystics who viewed the body’s desires as immediately and inescapably linked to God, reason and sometimes even suffering. </p>
<p>Yet this way of thinking about love has even older roots. </p>
<p>My favorite class to teach traces connections between eros and transcendence, starting with ancient Greek literature. Centuries before Christianity, the Greeks had their own ideas about desire. Erotic love was not a pleasant diversion, but a high-stakes trial to be survived, quivering with perilous energy. These poets’ and philosophers’ ideas can stimulate our thinking today – and perhaps our loving as well.</p>
<h2>Deadly serious</h2>
<p>For the ancient Greeks, <a href="https://outils.biblissima.fr/fr/eulexis-web/?lemma=eros&dict=LSJ">eros</a> – which could be translated as “yearning” or “passionate desire” – was a matter of life and death, even a danger to avoid. </p>
<p>In the tragedies of Sophocles, when someone feels eros, typically something is about to go terribly wrong, if it hasn’t already.</p>
<p>Take “Antigone,” <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo14823116.html">written in Athens in the fifth century B.C.E</a>. The play opens with the title character mourning the death of her brother Polyneices, who betrayed her father and killed her other brother in battle. </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A woman in a white dress and black shawl throws her arms up dramatically in front of stern-looking soldiers." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=445&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574181/original/file-20240207-28-emp3fw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=560&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption">Joan Maria Grovin stars as Antigone in a 1959 broadcast production in Munich.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/szene-mit-joan-maria-grovin-als-antigone-in-dem-news-photo/1198737763?adppopup=true">Klaus Heirler/picture alliance via Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>After this civil war, King Creon, Antigone’s uncle, forbids citizens from burying Polyneices: an insult to his memory, but also a violation of the city’s religion. When Antigone insists on burying him anyway, she is condemned to death.</p>
<p>The play is often interpreted as a lesson on duty: Creon executing the laws of the state versus Antigone defending the laws of the gods. Yet, uncomfortably for modern readers, Antigone’s devotion to Polyneices <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199559213.003.0015">seems to be more than sisterly love</a>.</p>
<p>Antigone leaps at the chance to die next to her brother. “Loving, I shall lie with him, yes, with my loved one,” she swears to her law-abiding sister, “when I have dared the crime of piety.” </p>
<p>Were Polyneices her husband, child, parent or even fiancé, Antigone says, she would never have violated the law. But <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo14823116.html">her desire for Polyneices</a> is so great that she is willing to face “marriage to Death.” She compares the cave where Creon buries her alive with the bedroom on a wedding night. Rather than starve, she hangs herself with her own linen veil.</p>
<p>Scholars have asked <a href="https://doi.org/10.1086/657289">whether Antigone has too much eros</a> or too little – and what exactly she desires. Does she lust for justice? For piety? For her deceased brother’s body? Her desire is somehow embodied and otherworldly at the same time, calling our own erotic boundaries into question.</p>
<p>Eventually, Creon’s passion for civic order consumes him as well. His son, Antigone’s fiancé, stabs himself in grief as he embraces her corpse – and hearing of this, his mother kills herself as well. <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo14823116.html">Eros races through the royal family</a> like a plague, leveling them all. </p>
<p>No wonder the chorus prays to the goddess of love, pleading for protection from her violent whims. “Who has you within him is mad,” the chorus laments. “You twist the minds of the just.”</p>
<h2>Embrace the risk</h2>
<p>This leads to a second lesson from the Greeks: Love might make you a better person, but it also might not. </p>
<p>Rather than speak in his own voice, the philosopher Plato wrote dialogues starring his teacher, Socrates, who had a lot to say about love and friendship.</p>
<p>In <a href="https://hackettpublishing.com/plato-on-love">one dialogue, “Lysis</a>,” Socrates jokes that if all you want is romantic love, the best plan is to insult your crush until they thirst for attention. In another, “Symposium,” Socrates’ young student Phaedrus imagines an indomitable army entirely comprising people in love. What courage and strength they would show off for each other!</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A scene of seven men in toga-like garments sitting and standing around a tree." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=687&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/574219/original/file-20240207-18-d0mmy3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=864&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A mosaic of Plato talking with his pupils, found in the house of T. Siminius in Pompeii.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/plato-conversing-with-his-pupils-from-the-house-of-t-news-photo/73217223?adppopup=true">Art Images/Hulton Fine Art Images via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In <a href="https://hackettpublishing.com/plato-on-love">the “Phaedrus” dialogue</a>, foolish lovers seek a friends-with-benefits arrangement, afraid of the unwieldy passions that come with falling in love. Socrates entertains their question: Is it better to separate affection from sexual entanglements, since the force of desire can erode one’s ethical principles?</p>
<p>His answer is emphatically “No.” For Socrates, sexual attraction steers the soul toward divine goodness and beauty, just as great art or acts of justice can do. </p>
<p>The idea of friends with benefits, he warns, cleaves the ethical self from the erotic self. Here and elsewhere, Plato insists that to be whole people, we must embrace the risks that come with love.</p>
<h2>A necessary madness</h2>
<p>Socrates has one more lesson to teach. Erotic love is indeed a kind of madness – but a madness necessary for wisdom.</p>
<p>In <a href="https://hackettpublishing.com/plato-on-love">“Phaedrus</a>,” Socrates suggests that love is a madness given by the gods, a fire blazing like artistic inspiration or sacred rites. Sexual desire disorients us, but only because it is reorienting lovers toward another world. The “goal of loving,” <a href="https://hackettpublishing.com/plato-on-love">according to one dialogue</a>, is to “catch sight” of pure beauty and goodness. </p>
<p>In erotic longing we bump up against something greater than us, a thread that we can trace back to the divine. And for Socrates, this pathway from eros to God is reason. In desire, a shimmer of light cracks through the broken crust of the material world, inspiring us to yearn for things that last.</p>
<p>The contemporary philosopher <a href="https://socialthought.uchicago.edu/directory/Jean-Luc-Marion">Jean-Luc Marion</a> has suggested that modern academic philosophy has totally failed when it comes to <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/E/bo4134284.html">the topic of desire</a>. There are vast subfields devoted to the philosophies of language, mind, law, science and mathematics, yet curiously there is no philosophy of eros.</p>
<p>Like the ancient Greeks and medieval Christians, Marion <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/E/bo4134284.html">warns philosophers against assuming that love is irrational</a>. Far from it. If love looks like madness, he says, that’s because it possesses a “greater rationality.”</p>
<p>In the words of another French philosopher, Blaise Pascal: “<a href="https://www.themarginalian.org/2015/06/19/blaise-pascal-intuition-intellect-pensees/">The heart has its reasons</a>, which reason knows nothing of.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/221728/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>David Albertson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Conventional stereotypes about romance portray it as a passionate, irrational game. Ancient philosophers, on the other hand, viewed love as something dangerous − but also enlightening.
David Albertson, Associate Professor of Religion, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/211279
2024-01-21T19:02:36Z
2024-01-21T19:02:36Z
Emily Wilson’s fluent new translation of the Iliad honours the epic poem’s power and beauty
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569955/original/file-20240117-29-h4ovvh.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C5616%2C3368&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Menelaus holding the body of Patroclus – Diana Mantuana (1535-1587).</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Menelaus_Holding_the_Body_of_Patroclus.jpg">Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>A new translation of the <a href="https://wwnorton.com/books/9781324001805">Iliad of Homer</a> is cause for a general celebration, especially when the translator is <a href="https://www.emilyrcwilson.com/">Emily Wilson</a> of the University of Pennsylvania. </p>
<p>Having turned her hand to translations of other Greek and Latin texts – notably Seneca, Euripides, Oedipus Tyrannos and Homer’s Odyssey – Wilson has moved on to the Iliad, joining an exclusive club of translators of this great work that includes <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/richmond-lattimore">Richmond Lattimore</a> and <a href="https://dbcs.rutgers.edu/all-scholars/9310-fagles-robert">Robert Fagles</a>. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>Review: The Iliad – Homer, translated by Emily Wilson (W.W. Norton)</em></p>
<hr>
<p>This is an excellent publication where some bold decisions have been made to provide a sense of the sound and pace of the original text. As Wilson says in the translator’s note:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I wanted to honor the poem’s oral heritage with a regular and audible rhythm, and with language that would, like the original, invite reading out loud, and come to life in the mouth.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Thus, when reading Wilson’s Iliad one senses something of the chant of Homer’s verse, even through the written word. </p>
<p>Wilson’s book is much more than a translation. It contains a detailed introduction to the nature and dating of Homeric verse, the historical and archaeological issues of the Trojan war, the code of honour within which the Homeric heroes operate, and the broader mythical context of the war. The book could be a whole course in itself, if you wanted to make it one. </p>
<p>We are reminded, for instance, in a discrete section of the introduction, that the Iliad describes the destruction of Troy and the fate of its women, raped and abused by the conquering Greeks. Wilson writes that the “silencing, rape, subjugation, kidnapping and enslavement of women in war are essential instruments for the construction of male honor”. </p>
<p>The more one engages with the Iliad, the more one sees that it is not just a poem of immense power and beauty. It cast such a spell over antiquity that poets and artists after Homer spent much of their time engaging with it. </p>
<p>The Roman poet Vergil, for instance, whose epic poem the Aeneid (written about 700 years after the Iliad) was also focused on the Trojan war theme, may have known the Iliad off by heart. When we pick up Wilson’s translation we realise what a task that must have been.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-virgils-aeneid-85459">Guide to the Classics: Virgil’s Aeneid</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=899&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569228/original/file-20240115-19-lc4vcu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1130&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<span class="caption"></span>
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<p>One of the first things to note about Wilson’s translation is that it makes no attempt to offer line-by-line equivalence with the Greek text, as Lattimore does in his 1951 translation. Thus, the 24 books of the poem have both the original Greek line numbers and the line numbers of her translation. This means students of Homeric Greek will not find Wilson’s text such an easy point of reference to check up on their translations.</p>
<p>For Wilson, it was liberating to free herself from the same number of lines as the original Greek. “Once I understood that I needed more lines than the original,” she writes, “I realized I could sometimes use lovely long polysyllabic English words, echoing the original’s use of powerfully long, often compound words interspersed with many shorter connectives, verbs and particles.” </p>
<p>Inevitably, the plethora of names, and the Homeric penchant for repetition in a broader sense, caused Wilson plenty of hard thinking, not to mention the matter of the epithets – the formulaic phrases that appear throughout the poem. How would she deal with “swift-footed Achilles” rather than just “Achilles”, or “Phoebus Apollo”, or “rosy-fingered Dawn”? </p>
<p>Some of the most prominent and radical research in Homeric scholarship over the past hundred years or so (after <a href="https://dbcs.rutgers.edu/all-scholars/8998-parry-milman">Milman Parry</a>, who established that Homer’s poetry was most likely not the work of a single poet) has involved scholarly analysis of the epithets. Wilson’s response is to vary the use of Homeric repetition as determined by poetic considerations: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Like almost all modern translators, I have sometimes varied the phrasing of certain formulaic phrases, usually for sonic or rhythmical reasons. So, for example, Zeus appears in this translation both as “cloud-gathering Zeus” and as “Zeus who gathers clouds together”. Minor variations of this kind seemed to me in keeping with the poetic techniques of the original poem, in which epithets are often chosen for metrical reasons as much as anything. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>Such a statement will inevitably provide reassurance for textual purists. The epiphany of the goddess Athena to the Greek warrior Achilles, in the midst of Achilles’ feud with Agamemnon in Book 1, gives us a sense of how this plays out and shows what a fine translator Wilson is:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>But then Athena swooped down from the sky.<br>
She had been sent forth by the white-armed goddess<br>
Hera, who loved both men. Athena stood<br>
behind Achilles, son of Peleus,<br>
and grabbed him by his chestnut hair. She was<br>
invisible to everyone but him.<br>
Achilles, startled, turned and recognized Athena. She had bright, unearthly eyes.<br>
His words flew out.<br>
“Why have you come here daughter<br>
of Zeus, the god who holds the royal aegis?<br>
Was it to see the cruel violence<br>
of Agamemnon, son of Atreus?”<br></p>
</blockquote>
<p>In such a busy scene as this, with seven individuals mentioned, both deities and mortals – Zeus, Athena, Hera, Achilles, Peleus, Agamemnon and Atreus – it might have been tempting to take out some of the names. Nothing like this happens and the translation is a lot richer for it. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569771/original/file-20240117-21-vp9nh3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=591&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Wrath of Achilles – Louis Édouard Fournier (1881)</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Fournier_La_col%C3%A8re_d%27Achille.JPG">Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Devotees of Book 6 will also note how the text flows with remarkable ease:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>When Hector finished speaking, Hecuba<br>
went in the house and shouted to her slaves<br>
to go through town and call the older women,<br>
and then she went inside her fragrant storeroom.<br>
In it, she kept her fine embroidered robes,<br>
Made by the women of Sidonia<br>
Whom godlike Paris Alexander brought<br>
to Troy across the wide back of the sea,<br>
on that same journey when he brought back Helen,<br>
the daughter of the mightiest of fathers.<br></p>
</blockquote>
<p>Book 6 is one of the more poignant books of the poem. The Trojan warrior Hector returns to the city from the fighting and talks with the women in his family: Hecuba, Andromache and Helen. It loses nothing in the Wilson translation. The reader might also note reference to Paris as “Paris Alexander” – a rather brilliant way of engaging with the fact that both names (i.e. “Paris” and “Alexander”) are used to describe him in the Iliad.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=266&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=266&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=266&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=335&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=335&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/569959/original/file-20240117-29-bb72gg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=335&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hector’s body dragged behind the chariot of Achilles – John Flaxman (1895).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hector%27s_body_dragged_at_the_Chariot_of_Achilles.jpg">Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-homers-iliad-80968">Guide to the classics: Homer's Iliad</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>So on the one hand Homeric purists should not be concerned about the disappearance of certain names or traditions from the Wilson translation. But this is not always the case. </p>
<p>The final book of the poem tells of the ransom mission undertaken by the Trojan king Priam and an old attendant to retrieve the body of Hector from Achilles, who has refused to give it over. The presence of Hermes is crucial in this particular book of the Iliad, because he is the god who oversees reciprocity and exchange. He acts as guide to the two old men. </p>
<p>But more often than not in Book 24 (and elsewhere in Homer) Hermes is called “Argeïphontês” (11 times), rather than “Hermes” (nine times). The name Argeïphontês seems to mean “Slayer of Argos”. It refers to a somewhat obscure narrative set in earlier times, in which Hermes killed a monster called Argos by first putting him to sleep and then striking him. The name Argeïphontês, it seems to me, is important in various ways, and it is something of a pity that it is dropped from the poem – although Wilson does maintain the monster-killing tradition by calling Hermes “the giant-slayer”.</p>
<p>Another surprising passage from Book 24 is Hermes’s arrival at Troy and his encounter with the two old Trojan men, Priam and Idaeus:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>He reached the Hellespont and Troy. He touched down in a human guise.<br>
He looked like a young man, a magistrate,<br>
with beard first sprouting, the most handsome age.<br>
The humans drove beside the tomb of Ilus,<br>
then at the river made the mules and horses<br>
halt for a drink. Dark night already covered<br>
the earth. Idaeus looked around and noticed<br>
Hermes right next to them and said to Priam …<br></p>
</blockquote>
<p>This passage, when I read it, seemed to me a strange translation, not the least for the references to a “magistrate” (i.e. a youthful Hermes) and “the humans” who drive past the tomb of Ilus. A “magistrate” in Homer’s Iliad? I don’t think so. </p>
<p>I don’t know what Wilson was thinking at this point, but she is alert to the danger of anachronism, which needs “to be balanced against an equally pressing danger: that archaism or unidiomatic English risks suggesting that the Iliad is more alien and more simplistic in its values than it really is”.</p>
<p>My two quibbles about Book 24 don’t add up to much in the context of this big work. I offer them as something to reflect upon. What is important about Wilson as a translator is that she has an unequivocal love for the text, which dictates almost all that she does:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I first began reading Homer in high school, early in the study of Ancient Greek. I liked the Odyssey, but I loved the Iliad with a passionate devotion. I have now lived with this poem for some 35 years.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We may be thankful for her love for the Iliad, and the longevity of it, and her generosity in offering it up to readers with very different backgrounds.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/211279/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chris Mackie does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Reading Wilson’s Iliad, one senses something of the chant of Homer’s verse, even through the written word.
Chris Mackie, Emeritus Professor of Classics, La Trobe University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/207290
2023-09-21T12:44:59Z
2023-09-21T12:44:59Z
‘Journey to the West’: Why the classic Chinese novel’s mischievous monkey – and his very human quest – has inspired centuries of adaptations
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548883/original/file-20230918-19-ngcwb3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C1%2C1024%2C680&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Monkey: Journey To The West,' a nine-act opera adaptation performed at the Chatelet Theater in France.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/monkey-journey-to-the-west-9-acts-opera-at-the-chatelet-news-photo/171031522?adppopup=true">Bertrand Rindoff Petroff/French Select via Getty Image</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>One summer afternoon in the late 1980s, my mother and I passed by a tea house on our trip out of town. The crowded building was usually a boisterous place filled with chatter, laughter, and the happy, clacking shuffle of mahjong tiles. At the moment we were passing, however, a great hush came over the teahouse: People were held spellbound by the black-and-white glow of a small TV in a corner, playing an episode of the series “Journey to the West.”</p>
<p>The TV series was adapted from <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/J/bo12079590.html">a 16th century Chinese novel</a> with the same title that has <a href="https://uwapress.uw.edu/book/9780295743196/transforming-monkey/">undergone numerous adaptations</a> and has captured the imagination of Chinese people to this day. Like many kids in China, I was fascinated by the magic Monkey King, the beloved superhero in the novel, who went through amazing adventures with other pilgrims in their quest for Buddhist scriptures. While I had to quickly walk by the teahouse in order to catch our bus that day, this moment flashed back to me from time to time, making me wonder what made “Journey to the West” so fascinating for people of all ages and backgrounds.</p>
<p>After graduating from college, I embarked on the next chapter of my academic journey in the United States and reconnected with “Journey to the West” from a different perspective. Now, as <a href="https://www.holycross.edu/academics/programs/world-languages-literatures-and-cultures/faculty/ji-hao">a scholar with expertise in traditional Chinese literature</a>, I am interested in the development of literary and cultural traditions around the story, including <a href="https://brill.com/view/journals/joch/2/1/article-p77_5.xml">how it has been translated</a> and <a href="https://www.netflix.com/title/80237245">reimagined by many artists</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A dozen children in bright gold costumes and red face paint pose in a dance formation." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548872/original/file-20230918-27043-s33v7a.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Students of a Beijing opera school dance during a performance about the ‘Monkey King’ in 2006.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/students-of-an-opera-school-dance-during-a-performance-news-photo/72889325?adppopup=true">China Photos/Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>While deeply enmeshed in Chinese traditions, the story also resonates with readers from diverse cultures. “Journey to the West” creates shared ground by highlighting the quest for a common humanity, epitomized by its best-loved character, the Monkey King – a symbol of the human mind.</p>
<h2>One journey, many stories</h2>
<p>Scholars usually trace the beginning of this literary tradition to <a href="https://www.shambhala.com/xuanzang.html">a Buddhist monk, Xuanzang</a>, who set out on an epic pilgrimage to India in 627 C.E. He was determined to consult and bring back Sanskrit copies of Buddhist scriptures, rather than rely on previous Chinese translations. He did so after nearly 17 years and devoted the rest of his life to translating the scriptures.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A detail from a Chinese scroll painting of a man with short hair in a green robe and sandals." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1341&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1341&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1341&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1686&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1686&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548870/original/file-20230918-19-u5edwp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1686&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The seventh-century monk and translator Xuanzang traveled far and wide in India for Buddhist scriptures.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/xuanzang-was-a-famous-chinese-buddhist-monk-scholar-news-photo/1485117238?adppopup=true">Pictures from History/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The journey has inspired a wide variety of representations in literature, art and religion, making a lasting impact on Chinese culture and society. Legends began to emerge during Xuanzang’s lifetime. Over centuries, they gradually <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/us/universitypress/subjects/literature/european-and-world-literature-general-interest/hsi-yu-chi-study-antecedents-sixteenth-century-chinese-novel?format=PB&isbn=9780521102810">evolved into a distinct tradition</a> of storytelling, often focused on how Xuanzang overcame obstacles with the help of supernatural companions.</p>
<p>This culminated in a 16th century Chinese novel, “Journey to the West.” By this point, the hero of the story had already shifted from Xuanzang to one of his disciples: the Monkey King of Flower-Fruit Mountain, who serves as Xuanzang’s protector. The Monkey King possesses strong magical powers – transforming himself, cloning himself and even performing somersaults that fly him more than 30,000 miles at once.</p>
<p>Despite this novel’s dominance, the broader tradition around “Journey to the West” encompasses a wide variety of stories in diverse forms. The canonic novel itself grew out of this collective effort, and its authorship is still debated – even as it continues to inspire new adaptations.</p>
<h2>The deeper journey</h2>
<p>Central to all Journey to the West stories is a theme of pilgrimage, which immediately raises a question regarding the nature of the novel: What is the journey really about?</p>
<p>Centuries-long debates <a href="https://doi.org/10.7312/yu--14326-009">about the journey’s deeper message</a> center on the 16th century novel. Traditional commentators in late imperial China adopted a variety of approaches to the novel and underscored its connections with different religious and philosophical doctrines: Confucianism, Daoism, Buddhism and syntheses of those teachings.</p>
<p>For example, all these teachings highlight the role of the “xin” – a Chinese word for mind and heart – in self-cultivation. While Confucian readers might see the plot of “Journey to the West” as the quest for a more moral life, Buddhists might decipher it as an inward journey toward enlightenment. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Four small, brightly painted clay figurines of people and animals in clothing." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548873/original/file-20230918-17-kwrct8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=504&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Four of the characters from ‘Journey to the West,’ made in the clay figurine technique of Huishan, China, including the Monkey King on the right.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/characters-of-journey-to-the-west-made-in-huishan-clay-news-photo/524791578?adppopup=true">Zhang Peng/LightRocket via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In the early 20th century, <a href="https://c250.columbia.edu/c250_celebrates/remarkable_columbians/hu_shih.html#:%7E:text=A%20onetime%20cultural%20critic%20who,late%201910s%2C%20he%20joined%20other">Chinese scholar and diplomat Hu Shi</a> criticized traditional allegorical interpretations, which he feared would make the novel seem less approachable for the general public.</p>
<p>His opinion influenced <a href="https://groveatlantic.com/book/monkey/">Arthur Waley’s “Monkey</a>,” an abridged English translation of “Journey to the West” published in 1942, which has contributed to <a href="https://www.proquest.com/docview/2584781824/9CC4031C8094A1CPQ/1">the canonization of the novel abroad</a>. To a considerable extent, “Monkey” turns the pilgrims’ journey into Monkey’s own journey of self-improvement and personal growth.</p>
<p>Recent scholarship has further underlined <a href="https://doi.org/10.1163/9789047415893_015">religious and ritual connotations</a> of the novel from different perspectives, and debates over the issue continue. But few people would deny that one idea plays a crucial role: the Monkey King as a symbol of the mind.</p>
<h2>Mind monkey</h2>
<p>There has been a long tradition in Chinese culture that associates <a href="https://brill.com/display/title/3488?language=en">the image of a simian creature</a> with the human mind. On the one hand, a monkey often symbolizes a restless mind, calling for discipline and cultivation. On the other hand, an active mind also opens up the opportunity to challenge the status quo and even transcend it, progressing to a higher state.</p>
<p>The Monkey King in the novel <a href="https://doi.org/10.7817/jaos.141.4.2021.ar035">demonstrates this dual dimension of the mind</a>. He vividly displays adaptability in exploring uncharted territories and adjusting to changing circumstances – and learning to rely on teamwork and self-discipline, not merely his magic powers.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A Japanese ink sketch of a monkey creating small, flying creatures out of his breath." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/548876/original/file-20230918-27-jeg8si.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=516&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Monkey King creates an army by plucking out his fur and blowing it into the air – each hair becomes a monkey-warrior. From the Japanese series ‘Yoshitoshi ryakuga.’</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/the-magic-monkey-songoku-from-the-chinese-story-journey-to-news-photo/526988270?adppopup=true">John Stevenson/Asian Art & Archaeology, Inc./Corbis Historical/Corbis via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Before being sent on the pilgrimage, the Monkey King’s quest for self-gratification wreaked havoc in heaven and led to his imprisonment by the Buddha. The goddess Guanyin agreed to give him a second chance on the condition that he join the other pilgrims and assist them. His journey is fraught with the tensions between self-discipline and self-reliance, as he learns how to channel his physical and mental powers for good. </p>
<p>The Monkey King’s human qualities, from arrogance to fear, endow him with universal appeal. Readers gradually witness his self-improvement, revealing a common human quest. They may frown upon how the Monkey King is entrapped within his own ego, yet respect his courage in challenging authority and battling adversity. While his mischievous tricks give a good laugh, his loyalty to the monk Xuanzang and his sense of righteousness make a lasting impression.</p>
<p><a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1943/03/14/archives/monkey-a-chinese-folk-novel-the-arm-and-the-darkness-and-other.html">Reviewing Waley’s “Monkey” in 1943</a>, Chinese-American writer Helena Kuo commented of the pilgrims: “Humanity would have missed a great deal if they have been exemplary characters.” Indeed, each one depicts humanity’s quest for a better self, particularly the main character. Monkeying around on the path of life, this simian companion captivates readers – and makes them consider their own journey.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/207290/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ji Hao does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
There is a long tradition in China of associating monkeys with the mind – symbolism that has helped the novel’s most memorable character, the Monkey King, find universal resonance.
Ji Hao, Associate Professor of Chinese Studies , College of the Holy Cross
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/210182
2023-09-11T12:33:42Z
2023-09-11T12:33:42Z
Ancient texts depict all kinds of people, not just straight and cis ones – this college course looks at LGBTQ sexuality and gender in Egypt, Greece and Rome
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546480/original/file-20230905-27-72ixgv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C3%2C795%2C595&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A painting from the ancient Egyptian tomb of Niankhkhum and Khnumhotep, royal servants whom some scholars have interpreted to be lovers.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.flickr.com/photos/manna4u/5241629108">kairoinfo4u/Flickr</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/">CC BY-NC-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="Text saying: Uncommon Courses, from The Conversation" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=375&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/499014/original/file-20221205-17-kcwec8.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=471&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
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<p><em><a href="https://theconversation.com/topics/uncommon-courses-130908">Uncommon Courses</a> is an occasional series from The Conversation U.S. highlighting unconventional approaches to teaching.</em> </p>
<h2>Title of course:</h2>
<p>“LGBTQ Antiquity: A View from the Mediterranean”</p>
<h2>What prompted the idea for the course?</h2>
<p><a href="https://www.binghamton.edu/meams/faculty/profile.html?id=tchronop">I study Greek and Latin literature</a> and have noticed that ancient authors wrote about sex, homoerotic feelings or relations, and gender more often than we assume.</p>
<p>A few figures from ancient Mediterranean mythology are sometimes held up as LGBTQ ancestors – such as the Greek gods Apollo and Zeus, who both loved other men. But in a mythology course I taught in the fall of 2021, I found myself highlighting a number of other stories about same-sex attraction and gender variance beyond a strict male-female binary. For example, <a href="https://papyrus-stories.com/2021/06/15/ancient-same-sex-love-spells/">spells from Egypt</a> show that there were women who tried to get other women to fall in love with them. </p>
<p>Students responded with such curiosity and excitement that I decided to create a stand-alone course that would focus exclusively on these topics.</p>
<h2>What does the course explore?</h2>
<p>The course explores literary texts from the ancient Mediterranean – including Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece and Roman Italy – in which authors describe relationships that can be said to fall under the LGBTQ umbrella. We read the texts in chronological order, rather than grouped by theme or identity. This allows students to encounter the texts relatively label-free, since the words U.S. society uses to talk about gender and sexuality today – like “gay” or “transgender” – do not always align with ancient understandings.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A circular, red and black image of two men in battle gear as one binds the other's wound." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=604&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=604&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=604&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=758&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=758&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546488/original/file-20230905-24-b142tn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=758&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A vase depicts Achilles bandaging the wound of his close friend Patroclus. Art from the era sometimes depicts the pair as lovers.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/achilles-hero-of-homers-epic-poem-iliad-bandaging-the-wound-news-photo/113441527?adppopup=true">Universal History Archive/Universal Images Group Editorial/Getty Images</a></span>
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</figure>
<h2>Why is this course relevant now?</h2>
<p>Assaults on members of the LGBTQ community, especially trans folks, are rising in the United States: both <a href="https://www.lgbtmap.org/equality-maps/healthcare_youth_medical_care_bans">through legal means</a> in a number of states and through <a href="https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2023/08/what-we-know-about-the-killing-of-oshae-sibley.html">physical attacks and hate crimes</a>. </p>
<p>My goal is for students to take courage and hope from knowing that same-sex relationships and gender diversity have existed in various guises for millennia. In antiquity, homosexuality was not considered an identity category the way it is today, making it hard to determine if and how <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/3704629">LGBTQ-like people</a> were discriminated against, but they certainly were not always met with contempt. For example, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/9781139600439.007">the body of Hermaphroditus</a>, a god whom Greeks sought out for help with fertility and child care issues, combined female and male characteristics.</p>
<p>I also want students to connect with the past as a way to feel rooted and validated. In this, I took a cue from <a href="https://www.lesliefeinberg.net/self/">trans activist Leslie Feinberg</a>, who wrote in the 1996 book “<a href="http://www.beacon.org/Transgender-Warriors-P463.aspx">Transgender Warriors</a>,” “I couldn’t find myself in history. No one like me seemed to have ever existed.” </p>
<h2>What’s a critical lesson from the course?</h2>
<p>LGBTQ-like individuals have always been here, although modern conceptions of self, gender and sexuality cannot be mapped directly onto the past. </p>
<p>The identities we know today were unknown then: The concept of homosexuality as a distinct sexual orientation or distinct kind of behavior did not exist. For instance, elite men in ancient Athens <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118610657.ch7">often engaged in same-sex relationships</a> with men alongside their marriages to women. Those who were in exclusively homoerotic relationships, however, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1002/9781118610657.ch8">tended to be ridiculed</a>.</p>
<p>Another critical lesson is that language matters. The words we use today are often inadequate to capture how social status or age intersected with one’s gender in the ancient Mediterranean. Take the Greek word for a woman or wife, “γῠνή.” Typically, this word refers to an upper-class woman, rather than, say, one who is enslaved or a foreigner. Norms around sexual activity depended on a person’s social status, age and gender.</p>
<h2>What materials does the course feature?</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A statue of the head of a woman with curly hair, whose nose is partially missing, against a black background." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=917&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=917&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=917&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1152&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1152&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/546483/original/file-20230905-19-wz0g2i.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1152&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A seventh century B.C.E. marble bust of Sappho from the Archaeological Museum in Istanbul.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/sculptural-bust-of-the-greek-lyric-poetess-sappho-marble-news-photo/566415199?adppopup=true">GraphicaArtis/Archive Photos via Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>Students come into the course expecting to encounter celebrated characters such as the poet Sappho, from the Greek island of Lesbos, whom lesbians have regarded <a href="https://wwnorton.com/books/9781324092315">as an ancestor</a>. </p>
<p>However, we also read less famous authors, such as Lucian of Samosata, <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-a-second-century-roman-citizen-lucian-can-teach-us-about-diversity-and-acceptance-196726">a Syrian-born satirist</a> from the second century C.E. In <a href="https://sacred-texts.com/cla/luc/motc/motc09.htm">one of his dialogues</a>, a sex worker tells her friend about an encounter she had with two other women, one of whom describes herself as “quite like a man.”</p>
<p>Not all authors are sympathetic. <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Saint-John-Chrysostom">John Chrysostom</a>, archbishop of Constantinople at the end of the fourth century C.E., <a href="https://journals.co.za/doi/abs/10.10520/EJC160018">vilified people</a> who engaged in homoerotic acts or homosexual relationships as criminals, mentally ill, diseased or diabolic. Many of these views are still being promulgated by religious leaders today.</p>
<p>The course also explores the lives of some Byzantine saints who were seen as women before they entered a monastery or became ascetics. Yet their self-punishing practices, such as extreme fasting, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/9789048540266.011">transformed their bodies</a>, and the surrounding communities started to see them as men. These stories, which aimed to uplift their audiences, serve as a reminder that cross-dressing and gender variance were not always seen as objectionable.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/210182/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tina Chronopoulos does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Writing about same-sex relationships and gender beyond a strict male-female binary was more common in ancient Greece and Rome than students assume, a scholar writes.
Tina Chronopoulos, Associate Professor of Middle Eastern and Ancient Mediterranean Studies, Binghamton University, State University of New York
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/209243
2023-07-18T20:01:59Z
2023-07-18T20:01:59Z
‘This is the way the world ends’: Nevil Shute’s On the Beach warned us of nuclear annihilation. It’s still a hot-button issue
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537941/original/file-20230718-17-afp9e7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=10%2C3%2C1179%2C622&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A 1946 nuclear weapon test by the US military at Bikini Atoll, Micronesia.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">rawpixel</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>One of the most haunting poems of the 20th century, <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/t-s-eliot">T.S. Eliot</a>’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Hollow_Men">The Hollow Men</a> (1925), concludes:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>This is the way the world ends<br>
Not with a bang but a whimper.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>In 1958, on his 70th birthday, Eliot was asked whether he would consider writing these lines, probably his most quoted, again. His answer was both noteworthy and categorical. </p>
<p>He <a href="https://www.taylorfrancis.com/chapters/mono/10.4324/9780203197479-81/henry-hewes-eliot-seventy-interview-eliot-saturday-review-13-september-1958-vol-xli-30%E2%80%932-michael-grant">admitted</a> he would not. He said that “while the association of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thermonuclear_weapon">H-bomb</a> is irrelevant to it, it would today come to everyone’s mind”. (And he was “not sure that the world will end with either”.)</p>
<p>Indeed, Nevil Shute’s classic novel of nuclear annihilation, On the Beach, published in June 1957, used Eliot’s famous lines as an epigraph. And the nuclear threat is still very much at the top of our collective mind.</p>
<p>The Sydney Theatre Company is <a href="https://www.sydneytheatre.com.au/whats-on/productions/2023/on-the-beach">staging</a> the very first stage adaptation of Shute’s novel. And <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt15398776/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">Oppenheimer</a>, one of 2023’s two most-hyped films, tells the story of the man referred to as “the father of the atomic bomb”.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537743/original/file-20230717-243937-93bviy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=386&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sydney Theatre Company is staging the first stage adaptation of On the Beach.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Sydney Theatre Company</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘Australia’s most important novel’</h2>
<p>Journalist <a href="https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2007/june/1268876839/gideon-haigh/shute-messenger#mtr">Gideon Haigh</a> calls On the Beach “arguably Australia’s most important novel – important in the sense of confronting a mass international audience with the defining issue of the age”. </p>
<p>British-born Shute emigrated in 1950 to Australia, where he lived outside Melbourne. As well as writing novels, he worked as an aeronautical engineer. </p>
<p>The title of On the Beach – which started life as a four-part story called The Last Days on Earth – ostensibly referred to a Royal Navy expression for reassignment. (Shute spent time in the Royal Naval Reserve during the second world war.) However, as readers of Eliot’s poetry will know, the phrase also appears late in The Hollow Men: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>In this last of meeting places<br>
We grope together<br>
And avoid speech<br>
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river.<br></p>
</blockquote>
<p>As in Eliot’s poem, the characters that cluster together in the pages of Shute’s novel, set in and around Melbourne between 1962 and 1963, tend on occasion to avoid speech. </p>
<p>This comes to the fore in the following passage, which focuses on a dinner party hosted by Lieutenant Commander Peter Holmes of the Royal Australian Navy. The atmosphere is both claustrophobic and delirious: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>For three hours they danced and drank together, sedulously avoiding any serious topic of conversation. In the warm night the room grew hotter and hotter, coats and ties were jettisoned at an early stage, and the gramophone went on working through an enormous pile of records, half of which Peter had borrowed for the evening. In spite of the wide-open windows behind the fly wire, the room grew full of cigarette smoke.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The reason why the guests at Peter’s party are so keen to avoid serious talk is both simple and depressing. They are trying very hard to forget that they are all going to be dead from radiation poisoning in a matter of months. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=732&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=732&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=732&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537750/original/file-20230717-234969-hkfcq9.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Original cover.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">AbeBooks</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Shute brings the reader up to speed after the dinner party wraps up. A massive nuclear war has devastated the entire northern hemisphere, wiping out all forms of life there. And the radioactive fallout generated during the conflict is now creeping – slowly but surely – into the southern hemisphere. </p>
<p>Shute makes it clear there is absolutely nothing anyone can do about this. In tonally dispassionate prose, he reveals that vast swathes of Australia have already been rendered uninhabitable due to radiation poisoning. The only thing the characters who remain can do is wait. </p>
<p>As Moira Davidson says to the American submarine captain, Dwight Towers: “It’s like waiting to be hung.” Hence the desperate need for moments of temporary respite and distraction.</p>
<p>Different characters deal with the situation in different ways. Those who still have jobs go to work. Those who don’t, stay at home or go shopping. Some, like Moira, take to drink and rail uselessly against the unfairness of it all:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>‘I won’t take it,’ she said vehemently. ‘It’s not fair. No one in the Southern Hemisphere ever dropped a bomb, a hydrogen bomb or a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cobalt_bomb">cobalt bomb</a> or any other sort of bomb. We had nothing to do with it. Why should we have to die because other countries nine or ten thousand miles away from us wanted to have a war? It’s so bloody unfair.’</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Moira’s anger eventually gives way to something approaching resignation. “A tear trickled down beside her nose and she wiped it away irritably; self-pity was a stupid thing, or was it the brandy?” She comes to accept this is “the end of it, the very, very end.” </p>
<p>Moments after this, Moira, who is already gravely ill with radiation poisoning, ends her life. She takes a couple of suicide tablets, puts them in her mouth, and washes them down “with a mouthful of brandy, sitting behind the wheel of her big car”.</p>
<p>This is the way Shute’s novel of nuclear extinction ends: not with a bang but with a whimper. Released at the height of <a href="https://theconversation.com/whats-a-cold-war-a-historian-explains-how-rivals-us-and-soviet-union-competed-off-the-battlefield-192238">the Cold War</a>, On the Beach struck a chord with millions of concerned readers. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/even-a-limited-nuclear-war-would-starve-millions-of-people-new-study-reveals-188602">Even a 'limited' nuclear war would starve millions of people, new study reveals</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Usefully entertaining</h2>
<p>By the September of 1957, Shute’s novel – which sold over 100,000 copies within six weeks of initial publication – had been serialised by dozens of American newspapers. A copy had found its way to the desk of John F. Kennedy, the next president of the United States. And Hollywood was about to call. </p>
<p>Directed by Stanley Kramer, the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_the_Beach_(1959_film)">cinematic adaptation</a> of On the Beach – which was filmed on location in Victoria and showcased the talents of Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner and Fred Astaire – hit the big screen in December 1959. </p>
<p>Shute famously detested the movie, which received decidedly mixed reviews. In a sense, Shute’s response is surprising, as the novelist clearly wanted to get his message about the perils of nuclear war across to as wide an audience as possible. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=362&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=362&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=362&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537722/original/file-20230717-228160-61j6oo.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=454&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gregory Peck (left) and Ava Gardner (right) in Stanley Kramer’s film of On the Beach.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">IMDB</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Shute’s didactic inclinations are evident towards the end of the novel. “Peter,” the character Mary asks, “why did this all this happen to us?” Even at this late stage, Mary, whose radiation-racked body is spasming uncontrollably, wants to know whether things might have panned out differently. Her husband’s reply is revealing: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>‘I don’t know […] Some kinds of silliness you just can’t stop,’ he said. ‘I mean, if a couple of hundred million people all decide that their national honour requires them to drop cobalt bombs upon their neighbour, well, there’s not much that you or I can do about it. The only possible hope would have been to educate them out of their silliness.’</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Shute makes a similar point in a letter he wrote in 1960. He holds that a popular writer </p>
<blockquote>
<p>can often play the part of the <em>enfant terrible</em> in raising for the first time subjects which ought to be discussed in public and which no statesman cares to approach. In this way, an entertainer may serve a useful purpose.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Knowing this, it seems likely Shute would have been delighted to read <a href="https://archive.org/details/galaxymagazine-1958-03/page/n119/mode/2up?view=theater">reviews</a> that praised the book’s “emotional wallop” while simultaneously demanding it “be made mandatory reading for all professional diplomats and politicians”. </p>
<p>While the science in the novel was somewhat flawed, Shute’s cautionary tale undoubtedly spoke to the collective zeitgeist. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=389&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/537755/original/file-20230717-129345-bsbbnu.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=489&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Shute’s tale spoke to the collective zeitgeist of its time. Pictured: an old Soviet missile in Cuba.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ismael Franciscol/AP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-if-growing-us-china-rivalry-leads-to-the-worst-war-ever-what-should-australia-do-185294">Friday essay: if growing US-China rivalry leads to 'the worst war ever', what should Australia do?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Enduring influence</h2>
<p>On the Beach was released mere months after the creation of the <a href="https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/encyclopedia/national-committee-sane-nuclear-policy-sane">National Committee for a Sane Nuclear Policy</a> in the United States, and just before the founding of the <a href="https://cnduk.org/">Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament</a> in the United Kingdom.</p>
<p>Though it seems fair to say Nevil Shute’s general literary standing has diminished in recent years, On the Beach continues to exert a pull on the popular cultural imagination. </p>
<p>The influence of Shute’s novel, which was <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/On_the_Beach_(2000_film)">remade</a> in 2000 as a film for Australian television, can be observed in various post-apocalyptic works, including George Miller’s <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mad_Max">Mad Max</a> franchise and the late Cormac McCarthy’s <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/6288.The_Road">The Road</a>. (If anything, the ending of On the Beach is even bleaker than in McCarthy’s masterpiece.) </p>
<p>Shute’s vision of humanity’s self-inflicted destruction is eerily resonant in our time of climate emergency. The nuclear threat remains, too, in our perilous historical moment of <a href="https://theconversation.com/many-once-democratic-countries-continue-to-backslide-becoming-less-free-but-their-leaders-continue-to-enjoy-popular-support-206919">democratic backsliding</a> and <a href="https://www.cnbc.com/2023/01/10/russia-risks-becoming-a-failed-state-in-next-10-years-analysts-say.html">failing nuclear states</a>.</p>
<p>It seems increasingly likely the world as we know it is coming to an end – if it hasn’t already. The question remains: will it be with a bang or a whimper?</p>
<hr>
<p><em><a href="https://www.sydneytheatre.com.au/whats-on/productions/2023/on-the-beach">On The Beach</a> runs at the Sydney Theatre Company 24 July to 12 August 2023, with previews 18–21 July.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/209243/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexander Howard does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
In the 1957 worldwide bestseller, Australia is – briefly – the last habitable place on earth, following a nuclear world war. One character asks, as they wait to die: ‘Why did all this happen to us?’
Alexander Howard, Senior Lecturer, Discipline of English, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/200068
2023-05-18T12:42:10Z
2023-05-18T12:42:10Z
‘Rhetoric’ doesn’t need to be such an ugly word – it has a lot to teach echo-chambered America
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522678/original/file-20230424-28-b71nkr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C9%2C2131%2C1385&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Rhetoric' has a bad rap – but some of the original rhetoricians' techniques can actually help foster productive conversations.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/illustration/election-debate-royalty-free-illustration/1187192599?phrase=debate%20podium&adppopup=true">smartboy10/DigitalVision Vectors via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Early on in my <a href="https://dornsife.usc.edu/profile/ryan-leack/">writing courses</a>, I ask students to define their sense of rhetoric. Responses range from “persuasion” to “manipulation,” but they tend to share a negative connotation. Little wonder: In America today, the word is often used to dismiss a political opponent. Whereas a Democrat may find a favorite candidate’s speech inspiring, a Republican might call it “mere rhetoric,” implying a lack of substance or even honesty.</p>
<p>But what is rhetoric, really? More importantly, what does rhetoric do? </p>
<p>Today, rhetoric is often associated with one-sided arguments that cater to a particular corner of an echo chamber. Writing something off as “rhetoric” is often a power play, more about putting down an opponent than really seeking truth. Yet the earliest sense of the word, from the first rhetoricians 2,500 years ago, may help us listen to, learn from and even see validity in other perspectives. </p>
<h2>The famous triad</h2>
<p>Do some digging on rhetoric and you’ll run into Aristotle, who literally <a href="https://kairos.technorhetoric.net/stasis/2017/honeycutt/aristotle/rhet1-2.html">wrote the book on rhetoric</a>. The Greek philosopher defined it as an ability to discern <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/aristotle-rhetoric/">what would be persuasive to a particular audience</a> and move them toward some desired opinion or action.</p>
<p>In fact, if my students know anything about rhetoric’s roots, it’s <a href="https://owl.purdue.edu/owl/general_writing/academic_writing/rhetorical_situation/aristotles_rhetorical_situation.html">Aristotle’s three rhetorical appeals</a>. Aristotle said that rhetoric could appeal to an audience in three main ways: through emotion, called pathos; through moral arguments or character, called ethos; and through logic or reason, called logos.</p>
<p>But Aristotle didn’t invent rhetoric himself. <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/plato-rhetoric/">His teacher Plato</a> probably coined the Greek term, which meant the “art of speaking,” and used it to describe the practices of an even older group of thinkers and orators: the Sophists.</p>
<h2>Wandering teachers</h2>
<p>The Sophists roamed Greek city-states some 70 years before Aristotle, teaching effective communication skills and sometimes antagonizing people along the way. <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/protagoras/">Protagoras, the first Sophist</a>, was also the first person on record to have his writing burned by a public authority.</p>
<p>Although the Sophists’ teachings’ varied, they were alike in important ways, such as challenging the notion that timeless truth exists. What people can determine, they argued, is what is relatively better or worse.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A marble statue of a bearded man with curly hair in a toga-like garment." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=940&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1181&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1181&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522675/original/file-20230424-16-xq2wpo.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1181&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Portrait of a Sophist teacher from the ancient Greek city of Smyrna, which is now the Turkish city of Izmir.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Portrait_of_a_sophist_%28a_teacher_of_philosophy_and_rhetoric%29,_from_Smyrna,_AD_193%E2%80%93211,_Izmir_Museum_of_History_and_Art,_Turkey_%2845300180414%29.jpg">Carole Raddato/Izmir Museum of History and Art/Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Both Plato and Aristotle condemned the Sophists, whom they viewed as <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/3810678">a threat to objective truth</a> and thus to philosophy itself. Platonists believed they could determine what was objectively right and wrong, good and evil, true and false.</p>
<p>Centuries later, modern scholars have reassessed the Sophists and pieced together <a href="https://hackettpublishing.com/philosophy/ancient-philosophy/the-older-sophists">fragments of their work</a>. The Sophists’ rhetorical practices acknowledge the diversity of cultural, moral and political values but avoid “anything goes” relativism. I’d argue that these qualities make their ideas particularly relevant for U.S. society today, which is divvied up into <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-problem-of-living-inside-echo-chambers-110486">ideological echo chambers</a>.</p>
<h2>‘Man is the measure’</h2>
<p>Protagoras is most remembered by one line: “Man is the measure of all things.” In other words, he claims that <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/protagoras/#ManMeasThes">human beings are the judges of values</a> and ideas, of what is to be believed and not to be believed.</p>
<p>But in my view, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/292215.pdf">the “man-measure doctrine</a>” does more than say “It’s all relative.” It can prompt people to reflect on what standards, or criteria, we should use to make decisions.</p>
<p>The Sophists’ interest in rhetoric – effective communication – was not abstract. <a href="https://iep.utm.edu/sophists/">They were teachers and “orators</a>,” arguing cases in Greek city-states’ courts and governments. They were concerned with practical action. Just as one uses a measuring stick as a criterion of length or width, Sophists used one’s sense of value to determine what constitutes a better or worse action.</p>
<p>Protagoras emphasized, however, that not all measures are equal; some are superior to others in any given situation. In a country where democracy is valued, for instance, certain policies objectively strengthen or weaken democratic action. But those same policies may not work well in differently organized countries. There is no one-size-fits-all measure: Values must be repeatedly defined, debated and implemented.</p>
<p>In the modern context, this doctrine may help avoid the “anything goes” dangers of relativism, but also the “my way or the highway” danger of moral certitude. The question for Protagoras is not necessarily “What is true?” but “What is best for the moment?”</p>
<h2>Doing 180s</h2>
<p>It’s not enough to choose a measure and defend it, though. To have a real conversation, people must discuss, compare and test competing values.</p>
<p>Here, too, the Sophists may be of help. The “Dissoi Logoi” is an anonymous work related to Protagoras’ methods, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511805479.039">written around 400 B.C.E.</a>, whose title means “contrasting arguments.” This is an exercise in which a rhetoric teacher would ask students to outline one of their firmest convictions, then ask them to defend the opposing view.</p>
<p>This practice tests students to argue a view from all sides – challenging different ideas to arrive at the strongest conclusion. Using dissoi logoi in any setting is valuable for understanding someone else’s positions and commitments, whether one is persuaded or not.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A bone-colored carving of five men in toga-like garments, with one holding a tablet." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=462&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/522680/original/file-20230424-16-mwgdqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=581&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A relief from a sarcophagus portraying a rhetoric teacher with pupils.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/roman-civilization-4th-century-a-d-early-christian-news-photo/122319848?adppopup=true">Dea/A. Dagli Orti/De Agostini via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>What’s ‘probably’ true</h2>
<p>Whereas philosophers of Plato’s time were searching for absolute truth, the Sophists often taught pupils to act on what is probably the case. Enter “eikos,” or <a href="https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_3">probable reasoning</a>.</p>
<p>The Sophist Gorgias, for example, argues from probability in a famous case called <a href="https://scaife.perseus.org/reader/urn:cts:greekLit:tlg0593.1st1K002.1st1K-grc1:1-5/">the Defense of Palamedes</a>, a mythological figure. According to a common legend, Palamedes had been killed for treason. Gorgias was the first writer to challenge this assumption, illustrating that Palamedes’ guilt was improbable because of a lack of motive and an unlikely chain of events.</p>
<p>Today, almost 2,500 years later, probable reasoning is more significant than ever because of the sheer amount of rapid, often contradictory information that floods the world each day – not to mention methods for manipulating <a href="https://www.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/publications/increasing_threats_of_deepfake_identities_0.pdf">photos, videos, voices and the like</a>. What seems reasonable or true today may be cast into doubt tomorrow.</p>
<p>Moreover, our world is chock-full of mutually exclusive beliefs, from religion to politics. It may not be useful to argue about what is absolutely “true,” but the Sophists help shift our focus to evidence about <a href="https://www.fordhampress.com/9780823256389/sophistical-practice/">what “probably” is or is not the case</a>, enabling us to act amid complexity and confusion.</p>
<p>There is one certain fact: There is a diverse but perplexing variety of views on any given issue. Absolute truth may exceed our grasp, but a measure of humility and caution may make it possible to responsibly navigate uncertainty, and the ancient Sophists’ techniques provide ways to do so – but only if people discuss their differences in good faith.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/200068/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Ryan Leack does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Ancient Greek philosophers despised the Sophists’ rhetoric because it searched for relative truth, not absolutes. But learning how to do that thoughtfully can help constructive debates.
Ryan Leack, Lecturer of Writing & Rhetoric, USC Dornsife College of Letters, Arts and Sciences
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/204449
2023-05-08T19:32:15Z
2023-05-08T19:32:15Z
Mothers’ lives in ancient Greece were not easy – but celebrations of their love have survived across the centuries
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524694/original/file-20230505-17-vy1pdn.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C5%2C711%2C1017&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">An ancient Greek relief depicting a baby with its mother and grandmother. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/ancient-greek-relief-depicting-a-baby-with-its-mother-and-news-photo/640271111?adppopup=true">David Lees/Corbis/VCG via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>As a father of three and the husband of an amazing woman, I know that one day a year is far too little to recognize everything mothers do. But my work as <a href="https://www.brandeis.edu/facultyguide/person.html?emplid=1be7ee967d45605afddf7da9ad4ca2c049a26c0b">a scholar of ancient Greek literature</a> has shown me how much harder it was to be a mother in antiquity. </p>
<p>The ancient Greeks may not have had the kind of Mother’s Day celebrated in the United States and United Kingdom today – holidays that began <a href="https://nationalwomenshistoryalliance.org/resources/commemorations/history-of-mothers-day/">at the turn of the 20th century</a> and <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/newsround/17343360">in the Middle Ages</a>, respectively. But they did have festivals to honor motherhood, focused primarily on <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Daedala">the goddess Hera</a> or <a href="https://www.theoi.com/Phrygios/Kybele.html">the earth mother Cybele</a> – though more often than not, women did the lion’s share of the <a href="https://womeninantiquity.wordpress.com/2018/11/29/the-cults-of-hera/">labor for those events</a>. </p>
<p>The stories that remain of both real and mythical mothers let us know how important they were. Thanks in part to their connection to the life cycle, women in ancient Greece were both <a href="https://repository.upenn.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1085&context=classics_papers">symbols of mortality</a> and a force to humanize heroes.</p>
<h2>Historical lives</h2>
<p>What we know of women’s lives in ancient Greece is generally not good. According to the poet Hesiod, typically dated to around 700 B.C., it was thought good practice for women to be married off to older men “<a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hes.+WD+695&fromdoc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0132">four or five years after puberty</a>.” Philosophical and medical traditions of the time saw women as inferior and <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Hippocrates-Woman-Reading-the-Female-Body-in-Ancient-Greece/King/p/book/9780415138956">defined by their ability to give birth</a>, even though the popular notion was that male semen contained <a href="https://aeon.co/essays/blame-it-on-aristotle-how-science-got-into-bed-with-sexism">everything needed for a baby</a>. </p>
<p>We have uncertain evidence for what lives were like after marriage. Some accounts estimate an average of <a href="https://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/1994/1994.12.02/">six births per woman</a>, and as many as 40% of infants <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4502068">may not have survived</a> to a marriageable age, though estimates of infant mortality vary. Most historians agree that child loss was common enough in antiquity to be an expectation rather than a surprise.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A carved relief shows a standing man holding a swaddled infant, with a woman seated beside them." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=937&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1177&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1177&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524236/original/file-20230503-19-e9d5rm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1177&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A marble tombstone dated 420 B.C.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/marble-tombstone-of-timarete-the-tombstone-depicts-the-news-photo/1314616517?adppopup=true">Photo12/Ann Ronan Picture Library/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Information about maternal mortality is equally obscure, though demographic data suggests that at times <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4502068">more than 30% of mothers died from complications related to childbirth</a>. But there is anecdotal evidence from funeral inscriptions gathered from all over antiquity’s Greek-speaking world. The 21-year-old Prakso, wife of Theocritus, <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2022/06/25/another-casualty-of-childbirth-2/">died in labor</a> and left a 3-year-old behind. <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2023/03/09/lost-to-childbirth-at-18-and-20-two-funerary-inscriptions-3/">Kainis died from prolonged childbirth</a> at 20, “just barely experienced in life.” Plauta also passed away at 20, <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2021/03/11/gone-at-20-in-childbirth-mourned-evermore/">during her second birth</a> – but her fame “sings on, as deep as her dear husband’s endless grief,” according to her tombstone.</p>
<p>Classics students often learn that ancient Greek men did not usually spend much time with very young children, given the high rate of loss. Some ritual practices may have been responses to <a href="https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/79426554.pdf">the precariousness of early life</a>, such as holding a naming ceremony only on the 10th day after birth or officially registering the child as a member of the father’s family in municipal records during the first year.</p>
<p>As a parent, however, I am less convinced that high rates of loss led parents to be more distant. I suspect that the sense of uncertainty made children more precious to all family members and that those early years only tightened the bonds between mothers and children in particular.</p>
<h2>Women in stories</h2>
<p>When people think of the field I study, epic poetry, I suspect they generally think of violent male heroes and victimized women. While this image is certainly not wrong, it overlooks other ways that women, and mothers in particular, were crucial to the world of Greek poetry and myth. </p>
<p>Ancient Greece had a whole genre of catalog poetry – basically, lists of people and their stories in brief – dedicated to telling the stories of heroic families based <a href="https://www.theoi.com/Text/HesiodCatalogues.html">on brides and mothers</a>, which helped humanize heroes for their audiences.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A carved plaque shows a seated woman with her head in her hands surrounded by men." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524243/original/file-20230503-26-rgplib.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A plaque from the 5th century B.C. shows Odysseus returning to Penelope, harassed by suitors.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/terracotta-plaque-classical-ca-460-450-b-c-greek-melian-news-photo/1296614367?adppopup=true">Sepia Times/Universal Images Group via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In “The Odyssey,” for example, Odysseus taps into this tradition during a voyage to the underworld and tells the stories of all the heroic mothers he met among the dead – listing his own mother as one of the first. During his brief visit to speak with the dead, he <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0136%3Abook%3D11%3Acard%3D180">learns that his mother, Anticleia</a>, died of a broken heart over his long absence. And throughout the epic, Odysseus spends much of his time struggling to get home to Penelope: his wife, but also a protective mother of their son, Telemachus. </p>
<p>In “The Iliad,” the powerful warrior Achilles’ mother, Thetis, is instrumental in appealing to Zeus on his behalf when Agamemnon, the leader of the Greeks, <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0134%3Abook%3D1%3Acard%3D345%20%22%22">dishonors him</a>. Once the almost invincible fighter goes to face Hektor, Thetis laments his short life nearing its end. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A painting shows a man in formal battle wear handing off a naked infant to a woman in a blue tunic." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=867&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/524242/original/file-20230503-22-4eb1k2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1089&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A painting of Andromache intercepting Hektor before he goes off to battle, by Fernando Castelli.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/andromache-intercepting-hector-at-the-scaean-gate-by-news-photo/150620659">A. De Luca/De Agostini via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Throughout the stories of war and honor in “The Iliad,” mothers remind listeners of the real consequences of war. In one arresting moment, Hektor, the prince of Troy, waits to face Achilles and likely death. Hecuba, his mother, stands on the walls of the city and bares her breast to her son, begging him to <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hom.+Il.+22.100&fromdoc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0134">remember the care he received from her</a> and to stay in the city to protect her. </p>
<p>But the one scene that has driven me to tears are the words of Hektor’s wife, Andromache, after she learns of her husband’s death. <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hom.+Il.+22.600&fromdoc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0134">She laments their son’s future suffering as an orphan</a>, denied a seat at other men’s tables, left to wander and beg. This moment was even more heart-wrenching for ancient audiences who knew the fate of their son, Astyanax: After Troy fell to the Greeks, he was hurled from the walls of the city. </p>
<p>Heroic mothers helped ancient Greeks define themselves and understand their place in the world, almost always to their own detriment. They remind listeners of the meaning of labor and sacrifice. </p>
<p>As a son, as well as a father, I know how complex family relationships can get. We generally see the modern world as being so very different from the past, but there is still little in human life as transformative as giving birth or raising a child.</p>
<p>Some words from ancient playwrights drive home how much remains the same. In one fragment, referred to as 685, <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2015/06/03/three-sophoklean-fragments-on-parents-and-children/">Sophocles claims</a> that “children are the anchors of a mother’s life.” In a fragment of his own, 358, <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2014/11/14/fragmentary-friday-euripides-confuses-himself-on-women/">Euripides writes</a>, “Love your mother, children, there’s no love anywhere that could be sweeter than this.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/204449/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joel Christensen does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Greek epic poetry often uses mothers and wives to humanize its heroes, reminding listeners of the meaning of sacrifice.
Joel Christensen, Professor of Classical Studies, Brandeis University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/202696
2023-04-25T12:28:22Z
2023-04-25T12:28:22Z
What Socrates’ ‘know nothing’ wisdom can teach a polarized America
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521089/original/file-20230414-24-tyvncl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=34%2C9%2C2082%2C1400&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The most important part of knowledge, in Socrates' view? Knowing how much you don't know.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/socrates-statue-royalty-free-image/521822255?phrase=socrates&adppopup=true">Yoeml/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>A common complaint in America today is that politics and even society as a whole <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2020/11/american-system-broken/616991/">are broken</a>. Critics point out endless lists of what should be fixed: the complexity of <a href="https://www.pbs.org/newshour/economy/column-need-rewrite-tax-code-scratch">the tax code</a>, or <a href="https://www.uschamber.com/immigration/calling-on-congress-fix-americas-broken-immigration-system">immigration reform</a>, or the inefficiency of government.</p>
<p>But each dilemma usually comes down to polarized deadlock between two competing visions and everyone’s conviction that theirs is the right one. Perhaps this white-knuckled insistence on being right is the root cause of the societal fissure – why everything seems so irreparably wrong.</p>
<p>As <a href="https://liberalarts.utexas.edu/rs/faculty/jt27">religion</a> and <a href="https://www.uml.edu/fahss/philosophy/faculty/kaag-john.aspx">philosophy</a> scholars, we would argue that our apparent national impasse points to a lack of “epistemic humility,” or intellectual humility – that is, an inability to acknowledge, empathize with and ultimately compromise with opinions and perspectives different from one’s own. In other words, Americans have stopped listening.</p>
<p>So why is intellectual humility in such scarce supply? Of course, the quickest answer might be the right one: that humility runs against most people’s <a href="https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/how-to-be-wrong/id1603230204">fear of being mistaken</a>, and the zero-sum view that being right means someone else has to be totally wrong. </p>
<p>But we think that the problem is more complex and perhaps more interesting. We believe <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/wisdom/">epistemic humility</a> presents something of a twofold danger that makes being humble frightening – and has, ever since Socrates first put it at the heart of Western philosophy.</p>
<h2>Knowing you don’t know</h2>
<p>If your best friend told you that you were the wisest of all human beings, perhaps you would be inclined to smile in agreement and take the dear friend for a beer. But when the ancient Athenian Socrates was delivered this news, he responded with sincere and utter disbelief – even though his friend had confirmed it with the <a href="https://historycooperative.org/the-oracle-of-delphi/">Delphic oracle</a>, the fortune-telling authority of the ancient world. </p>
<p>This nascent humility – “No, get out of here, I’m definitely not the wisest” – helped spark what became arguably <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/socrates/">the greatest philosophical life of all time</a>. Despite relative old age, Socrates immediately embarked on a journey to find someone wiser than himself and spent many days seeking out the sages of the ancient world, a quest Plato recounts in his “<a href="https://chs.harvard.edu/primary-source/plato-the-apology-of-socrates-sb/">Apology of Socrates</a>.”</p>
<p>The problem? He discovered that the sages thought they knew more than they actually did. Eventually, Socrates concluded that he himself was, in fact, the wisest of all men, because at least he “knew that he didn’t know.”</p>
<p>This is not to say that Socrates knew nothing: He demonstrates time and again that he knows a lot and routinely demonstrated good judgment. Rather, he acknowledged there were definite limitations to the knowledge he could claim. </p>
<p>This is the birth of “epistemic humility” in Western philosophy: the acknowledgment that one’s blind spots and shortcomings are an invitation for ongoing intellectual investigation and growth.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A coffee mug, pencils, pen and cookies next to a note reading 'The only thing I know is that I know nothing – Socrates.'" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521090/original/file-20230414-16-lfypqt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Reminder to self: Keep it humble.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/the-only-thing-i-know-is-that-i-know-nothing-quote-royalty-free-image/1289867552?phrase=socrates&adppopup=true">tumsasedgars/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Provoking the powerful</h2>
<p>But this mindset can feel dangerous to other people – especially if they feel absolutely certain in their convictions.</p>
<p>In ancient Athens, as much as in the U.S. today, being perceived as right translated into money and power. The city-state’s culture was dominated by the Sophists, who taught rhetoric to nobles and politicians, and the Poets, ancient playwrights. Greek theater and epic poetry <a href="https://www.historymuseum.ca/cmc/exhibitions/civil/greece/gr1180e.html">were closely related to religion</a>, and their creators were treated as <a href="https://www.vast-project.eu/theatre/">mouthpieces for aesthetic and moral</a> truth.</p>
<p>What’s more, theater and poetry were also major moneymakers, which motivated artists to adopt a mentality of “fail fast, fail better,” with an eye to eventually proving correct and getting paid.</p>
<p>By critically interrogating the idols and polarized views of his culture, Socrates threatened the power holders of his city. A constantly questioning figure is a direct threat to individuals who spend their lives defending unquestioned belief – whether it’s belief in themselves, their superiors or their gods.</p>
<p>Take Euthyphro, for example, <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1642/1642-h/1642-h.htm">one of Socrates’ principal interlocutors</a>. Euthyphro is so sure that he knows the difference between right and wrong that he is bringing his own father to trial. Socrates quickly disabuses him of his certainty, famously debating him about the true meaning of piety.</p>
<p>Or take Meletus, the man who eventually <a href="http://www.historyshistories.com/the-trial-of-socrates.html">brought Socrates to trial</a> on accusations of corrupting youth. In Plato’s account of the trial, it takes Socrates no time to show this “good patriot,” as Meletus calls himself, that he does not understand what patriotism truly means. Without any pretensions to knowing the absolute truth, Socrates is able to shed light on the underlying assumptions around him.</p>
<p>It’s frustrating to read <a href="https://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/plato/index.htm">the Platonic dialogues</a>, the works of philosophy that recount Socrates’ life and teaching, in part because Socrates rarely claims the final word on any subject. In short, he gives more questions than answers. But what remains constant is his openness to uncertainty that keeps his inquiry on the move, pushing his inquiries further and deeper.</p>
<h2>Paying the price</h2>
<p>The second danger of epistemic humility is now probably in view. It’s the danger that Socrates faced when he was brought to trial for corrupting Athens’ youth – the danger to the humble skeptics themselves.</p>
<p>He is brought up on <a href="http://www.historyshistories.com/the-trial-of-socrates.html">two very serious charges</a>. The first was an accusation that he taught students to make the weaker argument appear to be the stronger – which is actually what the Sophists did, not Socrates. The second was that he had invented new gods – again, he didn’t do that; poets and playwrights did.</p>
<p>What was he really guilty of? Perhaps only this: Socrates criticized the arrogant self-assertion of his culture’s influencers, and they brought him to trial, which concluded in his death sentence. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Vibrant red and purple flowers behind a statue of a slumped-over man." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=402&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/521091/original/file-20230414-24-tna6by.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">He asked the big questions, and he paid a price.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/sokrates-statue-in-the-parco-civico-of-lugano-royalty-free-image/519981918?phrase=socrates%20dying&adppopup=true">Roland Gerth/The Image Bank via Getty Images</a></span>
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<p>Socrates taught that <a href="https://philosophynow.org/issues/53/Socratic_Humility">being humble about one’s own views</a> was a necessary step in searching for truth – perhaps the most essential one. That was and perhaps still is a revolutionary view, because it forces us to challenge preconceived ideas about what we believe, what we worship and where we tap meaning. He placed himself in the middle of Athenians’ sharply polarized debates about what truth and goodness were, and he was the one who got hit.</p>
<p>“Humility like darkness,” wrote American philosopher Henry David Thoreau, “<a href="https://www.google.com/books/edition/Walden/49qWhJ0gjZQC?hl=en&gbpv=1&dq=Humility+like+darkness+Thoreau&pg=PA346&printsec=frontcover">reveals the heavenly lights</a>.” Put another way, humility about the verity, accuracy and wisdom of one’s ideas can reveal the fact that others have understandable reasons for thinking as they do — as long as you try to see the world as they are seeing it. In contrast, arrogance tends to extinguish the “heavenly light” about what we still don’t fully understand. </p>
<p>Being humble about one’s position in the world is not an invitation for a post-truth, anything-goes opinion free-for-all. Truth – the idea of truth – matters. And we can pursue it together, if we are always open to being wrong.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/202696/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>This article was produced with support from UC Berkeley's Greater Good Science Center and the John Templeton Foundation as part of the GGSC's initiative on Expanding Awareness of the Science of Intellectual Humility.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>J. W. Traphagan and John J. Kaag do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointments.</span></em></p>
Athens was deeply polarized over big-picture questions, and Socrates was never hesitant to question both sides’ assumptions – or his own.
J. W. Traphagan, Professor Emeritus of Religious Studies, The University of Texas at Austin
John J. Kaag, Professor of Philosophy, UMass Lowell
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/196726
2023-02-13T13:24:14Z
2023-02-13T13:24:14Z
What a second-century Roman citizen, Lucian, can teach us about diversity and acceptance
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509024/original/file-20230208-16-u2rw3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=7%2C7%2C2309%2C1732&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Lucian of Samosata, a high-ranking Roman official.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/lucian-of-samosata-an-assyrian-rhetorician-and-satirist-who-news-photo/526916092?phrase=lucian%20of%20samosata&adppopup=true">Michael Nicholson/Corbis via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>People who don’t fit the dominant demographic of where they live can often be asked, “Where are you really from?” </p>
<p>In 2017, CNN surveyed about 2,000 people who shared their stories on social media with the hashtag <a href="https://www.cnn.com/interactive/2017/08/opinion/where-im-really-from/">#whereiamreallyfrom</a>. The participants included first- and second-generation immigrants, naturalized individuals and others who were native-born citizens. </p>
<p>As a <a href="https://classics.ufl.edu/people/faculty/bozia/">classical studies scholar</a> with a focus on linguistic and cultural diversity in Imperial Greek and Latin literature, I am aware that this question is not a new one.</p>
<p>Take Lucian, a high-ranking Roman official in the second century. Born in Syria, he later chose to be a naturalized Roman. As a non-native speaker of Greek and Latin who, by his own admission, looked different from many people in Greece and Rome, he dealt with <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Lucian-and-His-Roman-Voices-Cultural-Exchanges-and-Conflicts-in-the-Late/Bozia/p/book/9780367870676">issues of ethnicity, language use and social acceptance</a>.</p>
<h2>The Roman world</h2>
<p>The time of the Roman Empire is a unique historical period that, in many respects, can be seen as a lived lesson for issues of diversity and inclusion. By Lucian’s time, the <a href="https://wwnorton.com/books/9781631492228">Romans had conquered</a> Spain, France, parts of Germany and Britain, Greece, the North Africa coast and much of the Middle East, among other territories.</p>
<p>As occupiers, they did impose their rule with military means. Still, they accepted their subjects’ differences, granted privileges to several provinces and gave citizenship on a case-by-case basis until A.D. 212, <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/the-roman-citizenship-9780198148470?cc=us&lang=en&">when everyone was given Roman citizenship</a>.</p>
<p>Their pragmatic aim was to maintain stability and ensure cooperation. The result was a multilingual, multicultural and cosmopolitan empire. People were allowed to retain their ethnicity, language, culture and religion for the most part. Latin was [not imposed except in the army] and administration; Greek was established as the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511627323">language of the educated</a>. </p>
<p>This period could be said to resemble our current times: People traveled, relocated and worked in different parts of the empire. Also, there were scholars and writers who were trilingual and multicultural. For instance, there were African authors who wrote in Latin and <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Apuleius-and-Africa/Lee-Finkelpearl-Graverini/p/book/9780367867157">were also fluent in Greek</a>, and Romans <a href="https://doi.org/10.1017/S0009840X00114982">who were fluent in Greek</a>, too. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Page of an old manuscript with writing in Latin." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=749&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=941&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=941&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/509025/original/file-20230208-19-3b8lg7.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=941&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Title page of a 1619 Latin translation of Lucian’s complete works.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lukian_von_Samosata_Opera.jpg">Private collection via Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These authors wrote about their <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/greek-literature-and-the-roman-empire-9780199240357?cc=us&lang=en&">sense of identity and belonging</a> and were proud of their ability to remain true to their origins while also adapting to the conditions of the global world of the empire. On the other hand, there were also other authors who were anti-immigration and <a href="https://digilib.phil.muni.cz/_flysystem/fedora/pdf/141160.pdf">critical of new citizens and non-native speakers</a>, and others who showed that Roman occupation weighed heavily on their subjects. </p>
<h2>So, where was Lucian really from?</h2>
<p>Lucian is a <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/hellenism-and-empire-9780198152316?cc=us&lang=en&">cosmopolitan</a> individual. He was born in Samosata, which was in Syria until it was incorporated into the Roman Empire. He traveled to Cappadocia, Pontus, Athens, Rome, Gaul and Egypt. He wrote in perfect Greek; he was in the entourage of the Roman Emperor Lucius Verus and served as the secretariat of the Roman prefect in Egypt. </p>
<p>Throughout all his works, Lucian clearly suggests that he should be accepted in this new world as the model of the new citizens – individuals who were open about their ethnic identity yet embraced the Greco-Roman culture and contributed to advancing contemporary social inclusion.</p>
<p>In his essay “<a href="http://lucianofsamosata.info/wiki/doku.php?id=home:texts_and_library:essays:the-vision">The Dream</a>,” Lucian imagines his future as an underrepresented citizen. He writes that two women appeared in his sleep: an elegant one representing Greek education and a rugged one representing a craftsman’s life. The former promised him a life of popularity among the world’s elite. He chooses to be a well-to-do man of letters who overcame his humble origins and succeeded in a cosmopolitan society, even though he was not a native speaker or a native citizen.</p>
<p>In another one of his writings, “Zeuxis,” he writes about about his fluency in Greek and insists that <a href="https://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/luc/wl2/wl207.htm">he should not be seen as an outsider</a> because he is as articulate as any native-born Greek speaker. </p>
<p>He becomes more emboldened in his treatise “<a href="https://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/luc/wl2/wl204.htm">A Slip of the Tongue in Greeting</a>.” Here, he intentionally makes a mistake in a salutation and supposedly writes to apologize. In reality, however, he shows his knowledge of Greek cultural norms and, at the same time, clearly proves that he is versed in Roman culture, too. </p>
<p>On the other hand, he also wrote a piece titled “<a href="https://www.sacred-texts.com/cla/luc/wl4/wl404.htm">My Native Land</a>,” in which he says that no matter the languages one learns, the cultures one acculturates oneself to, and the global recognition, they are always their motherland’s sons and daughters – proud of them and indebted to them.</p>
<p>Lucian’s work provides a unique insight into a world of imperialism that also fostered multilingualism and multiculturalism and gave birth to the first global citizens. His writings show what diversity and inclusion can look like through the eyes of the empire’s newest citizens – and offers illuminating lessons from an often forgotten classical past.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/196726/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Eleni Bozia does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Lucian’s work provides insight into the second-century Roman world, which fostered multilingualism and multiculturalism.
Eleni Bozia, Associate Professor of Classics and Digital Humanities, University of Florida
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/197735
2023-02-08T13:43:00Z
2023-02-08T13:43:00Z
Don’t underestimate Cupid – he’s not the chubby cherub you associate with Valentine’s Day
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/508485/original/file-20230206-31-17810f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=6%2C6%2C1013%2C787&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">'Cupid and Psyche' by Italian sculptor Antonio Canova</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/stature-of-cupid-and-psyche-embracing-from-the-villa-news-photo/517391898?phrase=cupid%20and%20psyche&adppopup=true">Bettmann via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Ah, Valentine’s Day: that Hallmark holiday of greeting cards and chocolates, its bloody origins almost entirely forgotten over the last 2,000 years! </p>
<p>What began as a Christian feast day honoring two or three early Christian martyrs – <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-real-st-valentine-was-no-patron-of-love-90518">the original “Valentines</a>” – is now associated with flocks of winged cherubic Cupids, whose innocuous-looking bows and arrows symbolize gentle romance instead of death-dealing war. Somehow, the phrase “struck by Cupid’s arrow” is supposed to be exciting rather than excruciating.</p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/what-the-mythical-cupid-can-teach-us-about-the-meaning-of-love-and-desire-176760">The original Cupid</a> was the son of Venus, Roman goddess of love and beauty. He himself was a Roman deity associated with lust and love, based on the Greek Eros. In Greece and Rome, both figures were depicted as handsome young men, not as winged infants.</p>
<p>But ancient poets and artists also imagined a troop of “Erotes” or “Cupidines” as attendants of these gods. The Romans portrayed them as winged infants, <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9781469628400/inventing-the-renaissance-putto/">or “putti</a>,” as they became known in Italian Renaissance art. These, in turn, became the chubby cherubs of today’s valentines.</p>
<p>Despite envisioning the god with a troop of adorable attendants, even the Romans understood that Cupid had a darker, more dangerous side – one whose power you wouldn’t want to dismiss.</p>
<h2>Small but mighty</h2>
<p>The archer god Apollo found this out the hard way, as the poet Ovid told in his epic of A.D. 8, “Metamorphoses.” Having just <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Metamorph.php#anchor_Toc64105469">slain the dragon of Delphi with 1,000 arrows,</a> Apollo provoked the fierce fury of Venus’ son by mocking Cupid’s seemingly toylike weapons.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="A painting in black and white shows a winged naked figure talking with a man in a tunic." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=957&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=957&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508469/original/file-20230206-21-fnxjey.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=957&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">‘Cupid and Apollo’ by Pontormo (attributed to the School of Andrea del Sarto)</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://kress.nga.gov/Detail/objects/2916">Samek Art Museum at Bucknell University/National Art Gallery</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Cupid swiftly took his revenge. He pierced Apollo’s heart with a golden arrow, causing him to fall passionately in love with the nymph Daphne. But Daphne was a sworn virgin, and Cupid shot her with a lead arrow, intensifying her loathing for all things amorous. </p>
<p>She fled from Apollo’s advances. The desperate deity pursued her relentlessly, until Daphne’s father <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.02.0028%3Abook%3D1%3Acard%3D452">turned her into a laurel tree to save her</a>. Cupid’s arrows, however diminutive, were more powerful than Apollo’s.</p>
<h2>The unseen spouse</h2>
<p>But the most famous characterization of Cupid in Latin literature appears in the work of Apuleius, who lived during the second century in what is now Algeria. He wrote <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/TheGoldenAssIV.php#anchor_Toc347999726">a story about Psyche</a>, a princess so exceedingly beautiful that mortals worshipped her as if she were the goddess of love herself.</p>
<p>Enraged by jealousy, Venus commanded her son to make Psyche fall in love with the most wretched man possible. But an oracle told the royal family that their daughter was destined to marry “a savage, untamed creature” that flew about tormenting everyone with fire – and they abandoned her on a cliff to meet this terrifying fate.</p>
<p>Instead, Psyche found herself borne by a gentle breeze to an elaborate palace inhabited by invisible servants. That night, an “unknown husband arrived and made Psyche his wife,” departing before sunrise.</p>
<p>Her unseen spouse continued to visit nightly, and Psyche was soon overjoyed to find herself pregnant. But she also became increasingly lonely. Her mysterious husband agreed that <a href="https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/TheGoldenAssV.php">her sisters could visit</a> – as long as she did not try to “investigate his appearance.” She happily agreed, telling him, “Whoever you are I love you deeply. Not even Cupid could compare to you.”</p>
<p>But when Psyche’s two older sisters visited, they became envious of her luxurious life. “She must be married to a god!” they intuited – unlike Psyche, who remained inexplicably clueless. Hoping to break up the marriage, they offered a false explanation for her husband’s secrecy: He must be a monstrous serpent intent on devouring her and her unborn child.</p>
<p>A horrified Psyche believed them, despite her intimate physical knowledge of her spouse – his “perfumed locks, tender cheeks, and warm chest.” Armed with a dagger, she prepared to kill her husband as he slept. But first, ignoring his repeated warnings, she gazed at him by the light of an oil lamp. Here, halfway through the story, the audience finally finds out his identity: none other than Cupid himself!</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A statue of a naked woman looking down at a sleeping man on display in a park in autumn." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/508488/original/file-20230206-19-2byobp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Psyche finally gets a good look at her husband. ‘Cupid and Psyche’ by Giulio Kartar.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/marble-sculpture-cupid-and-psyche-royalty-free-image/471366765?phrase=cupid%20and%20psyche&adppopup=true">leoaleks/iStock via Getty Images Plus</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At the sight, Psyche “fell in love with Love.” But a drop of scalding oil awakened Cupid. Utterly dismayed at his wife’s betrayal, he flew away – but first explained: “I have disobeyed my mother’s orders to fill you with passion for some vile wretch. I flew to you as your lover instead.”</p>
<h2>Love lost – and found</h2>
<p>The rest of the narrative involves Psyche’s long, arduous quest to win Cupid back. Though despairing and exhausted, Psyche willingly submitted herself to a series of brutal tasks imposed by Venus, only to fall into a deathlike slumber just before completing them.</p>
<p>And where is Cupid during all this? If he is characterized as a powerful, dangerous force in the first half of the story, the second half depicts him as a helpless mama’s boy. He flew back to Venus’ palace, where his mother – furious that he had secretly married Psyche – scolded him righteously, screamed that he had embarrassed her, and locked him in his room. </p>
<p>Finally, recalling his love for Psyche, Cupid escaped out the window and saved her from eternal slumber. Then he made a savvy deal with Jupiter, king of the gods: Psyche could be made immortal, clearing the way for her to “officially” marry Cupid in an arrangement that even satisfied Venus.</p>
<h2>Complex vision of love</h2>
<p>Apuleius’ story is rare in focusing on a female character and how love and desire affect her. The audience follows Psyche through several rites of passage. Initially, as an unmarried girl, she has not fulfilled her expected <a href="https://www.pbs.org/empires/romans/empire/weddings.html">role of wife and mother</a>. As a frightened bride, she has no say in whom she marries – an experience common for young wives in ancient Roman society. Love does not enter the picture.</p>
<p>But Apuleius’ portrayal of Psyche’s situation suggests a lesson Roman writers of the day wanted readers to believe: that young married women eventually come to desire and love their husbands. Although that process can be long and difficult, wives and husbands both adjust to their roles over time. The birth of Psyche’s child, “Pleasure,” at the end of the story results in harmony all around, an idealized image of marriage. </p>
<p>Ovid and Apuleius remind us that the original Cupid is not the benign little bearer of valentines but an elemental force of human nature – a “savage, untamed creature” that lights the fires of passion in unpredictable ways. Whereas Apollo’s lust for Daphne’s visible beauty remained unsated, Psyche eventually enjoyed sex with her unseen husband. Apollo learned that longing isn’t always mutual, while Psyche realized that love and trust must be earned. </p>
<p>Apuleius’s story suggests that Cupid and all the intense emotions he represents, once tempered, can provide the basis for a loving, long-lasting relationship. In short, both stories contain valuable lessons about the nature of romance.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/197735/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Debbie Felton does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Ancient Greece and Rome may have handed down the image of rosy-cheeked Cupids, but their myths about him explore the messier – sometimes scarier – sides of love.
Debbie Felton, Professor of Classics, UMass Amherst
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/191407
2022-09-30T15:34:32Z
2022-09-30T15:34:32Z
What’s a laureate? A classicist explains the word’s roots in Ancient Greek victors winning crowns of laurel leaves
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487308/original/file-20220929-22-a732tm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=640%2C366%2C3720%2C2458&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Laurel was an ancient symbol of medicine, the arts and the end of war.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/statue-holding-a-golden-laurel-royalty-free-image/157295503">naphtalina/E+ via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>When the <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org">Nobel Prizes</a> are handed out each year, honorees each receive a medal and <a href="https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/about/the-nobel-prize-amounts/">monetary prize</a>. Even in the absence of these material goods, the honor of being a Nobel laureate persists as part of someone’s name or title, like a heroic epithet to recognize a life’s achievement.</p>
<p>I annually join my colleagues in the arts and sciences praising the winners and everything they have accomplished. As a <a href="https://www.brandeis.edu/facultyguide/person.html?emplid=1be7ee967d45605afddf7da9ad4ca2c049a26c0b">scholar of classical studies</a>, I also mull over the journey of that strange word, laureate, and how aptly it names those who receive it.</p>
<hr>
<iframe id="noa-web-audio-player" style="border: none" src="https://embed-player.newsoveraudio.com/v4?key=x84olp&id=https://theconversation.com/whats-a-laureate-a-classicist-explains-the-words-roots-in-ancient-greek-victors-winning-crowns-of-laurel-leaves-191407&bgColor=F5F5F5&color=D8352A&playColor=D8352A" width="100%" height="110px"></iframe>
<p><em>You can listen to more articles from The Conversation, narrated by Noa, <a href="https://theconversation.com/us/topics/audio-narrated-99682">here</a>.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>The English word “laureate” dates back to the 15th and 16th centuries, when it jumped almost straight out of the Latin “<a href="https://quod.lib.umich.edu/m/middle-english-dictionary/dictionary/MED24865">laureatus</a>,” an adjective to describe someone crowned with a wreath of laurel leaves. But laurel’s history as a symbolically important plant goes back thousands of years.</p>
<h2>A useful plant native to the Mediterranean</h2>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="botanical illustration of Laurus nobilis, with leaves, flowers and berries" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=915&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1150&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1150&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487170/original/file-20220928-15880-vke9gj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1150&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Various parts of the laurel were used medicinally and culinarily.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Illustration_Laurus_nobilis1.jpg">Otto Wilhelm Thomé/Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The <a href="https://britannica.com/plant/laurel-plant-Laurus-genus">laurel plant</a> is one of a number of small bushes and trees found originally in the Mediterranean. Some varieties grow dozens of feet tall, often marked by smooth, sometimes wavy leaves, with berries and flowers of different colors. Many people will recognize the long, green aromatic leaves as bay, a popular spice in a range of cuisines.</p>
<p>The laurel was a useful plant, part of a long tradition of using the gifts of the natural world <a href="https://www.academia.edu/38510503/The_Tradition_of_Treatment_of_Phrenitis_With_Laurel_Leaves">to treat human ailments</a>.</p>
<p>The Romans had a variety of medicinal uses for the plant. They applied its leaves to snake bites and ingested them as an emetic. They prepared the plant with its berries in various cold remedies.</p>
<p>The Greeks used <em><a href="https://powo.science.kew.org/taxon/urn:lsid:ipni.org:names:465049-1">Laurus nobilis</a></em>, or “bay laurel,” as a remedy for rashes from other plants and boiled it down for antiseptic and <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/288655">first aid applications</a>.</p>
<p>But the use of crowns crafted from laurel sprigs emerged for different reasons.</p>
<h2>A plant linked to Apollo</h2>
<p>While “laurus” is the Romans’ word for the cultivated plant, the idea of being crowned or wreathed with laurel likely came first from the Greeks. They associated this plant, which they called “daphne,” with ritual purification and divine inspiration.</p>
<p>Worshippers of the god Apollo held the laurel tree to be sacred, as the location of the god’s oracular statements. In some traditions, the Pythia – the priestess who pronounced <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/498438">oracles at Delphi</a>, one of the most sacred sites in the early Greek world – would <a href="https://sententiaeantiquae.com/2016/03/22/chewing-laurel-might-make-you-a-prophet/">chew laurel leaves</a>, potentially to hallucinogenic effect, before <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/pbm.2014.0032">delivering a prophecy</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="marble sculpture of man grabbing woman from behind as she roots to the ground and leaves form at her fingers" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=761&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487311/original/file-20220929-16-ur3w5p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=956&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Gianlorenzo Bernini’s depiction of Daphne midtransformation into a laurel tree.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/view-of-the-apollo-and-daphne-masterpiece-by-italian-news-photo/1375253144">Roberto Serra/Iguana Press via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The origin story of Apollo’s love for the laurel tree is more menacing. In the Roman poet Ovid’s “<a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.02.0028%3Abook%3D1%3Acard%3D452">Metamorphoses</a>,” Eros – Cupid to the Romans – sought to punish Apollo for mocking him, so he made him become infatuated with a young female nymph, Daphne.</p>
<p>She fled his repeated – and violent – advances, and begged her father, a river god, for help. He transformed his daughter into the laurel tree. Daphne avoided Apollo in her human form, but she could not escape becoming his sacred property.</p>
<p>While this story explains the laurel as Apollo’s sacred plant, its medicinal or imagined mind-altering effects may be better explanations for the tree’s association with Apollo, a god of medicine, prophecy and poetic arts.</p>
<h2>Victors wreathed in laurel</h2>
<p>The Greeks held the <a href="https://1df116ccf7e76f4fadc6-db61b658f2565d5f24ddeaaa20b9f7d5.ssl.cf5.rackcdn.com/w_12_Echo_Delphi.PDF">Pythian Games</a> at Delphi every two years after the Olympic Games. By the time they were established in the sixth century B.C. in honor of Apollo, laurel was connected to the god strongly enough to be offered as <a href="https://historyandarchaeologyonline.com/ancient-greek-musical-contests-at-the-pythian-games-delphi/">the prize for victors</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="colorized etching of a man wearing ancient garb and a laurel crown" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=725&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/487312/original/file-20220929-26-f7piql.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=912&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Depiction of Roman poet Virgil wearing a crown of laurel.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/portrait-of-virgil-or-vergil-ancient-roman-poet-of-royalty-free-image/1404264996">mikroman6/Moment via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These games, unlike the Olympics, started out with competitions in singing, poetry and dance, and later evolved to include athletic competitions. Laurel’s function as a prize in honor of Apollo and a marker of poetic power is the reason the laureate crown was adopted to honor poets and men of letters in the <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/mln.0.0086">early Renaissance</a>.</p>
<p>The story of “laureatus” has a few further twists. Ancient Greeks would suspend violent conflicts to hold their annual competitions. This tradition may be the reason the Romans used the <em>Laurus delphica</em> – the laurel tree native to the sacred site of Delphi – as a <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/1086235">symbol of peace</a>. They adorned announcements of victory called <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=liv.%205.28&lang=original#note7">litterae laureatae</a> (“laureate letters”) with wreaths of laurel.</p>
<p>In higher education, the word “baccalaureate” preserves the meaning of laureate as someone who is honored or who has achieved something. The term is synonymous with a bachelor’s degree, and hails from a medieval Latin word.</p>
<p>The custom of applying the word “laureate” to a Nobel Prize winner, however, may be younger than the prize itself. The Oxford English Dictionary documents the first description of a Nobel honoree in this way happened in 1947.</p>
<p>Despite the phrase’s relative youth, the word’s history lends a deeper meaning to the title. As an ancient symbol of medicine, the arts and the end of war, the laurel certainly fits Nobel’s honoring of achievement in medicine, physics, chemistry, literature, economics and that most fragile of hopes, peace.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/191407/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Joel Christensen does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Just in time for this year’s Nobel Prize announcements, here’s how the symbolism of a plant associated with the god Apollo lives on in modern-day laureates.
Joel Christensen, Professor of Classical Studies, Brandeis University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/188197
2022-09-16T12:17:16Z
2022-09-16T12:17:16Z
These high school ‘classics’ have been taught for generations – could they be on their way out?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/484952/original/file-20220915-25735-8jjzi8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=17%2C34%2C5734%2C3794&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">High school students have studied many of the same books for generations. Is it time for a change?</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/photo/william-shakespeare-royalty-free-image/168625734?adppopup=true">Andrew_Howe via Getty Images</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>If you went to high school in the United States anytime since the 1960s, you were likely assigned some of the following books: Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet,” “Julius Caesar” and “Macbeth”; John Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men”; F. Scott Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby”; Harper Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird”; and William Golding’s “The Lord of the Flies.”</p>
<p>For many former students, these books and other so-called “classics” represent high school English. But despite the efforts of reformers, both <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?q=multicultural+canon&id=ED371401">past</a> and <a href="https://disrupttexts.org/">present</a>, the most frequently assigned titles have never represented America’s diverse student body.</p>
<p>Why did these books become classics in the U.S.? How have they withstood challenges to their status? And will they continue to dominate high school reading lists? Or will they be replaced by a different set of books that will become classics for students in the 21st century?</p>
<h2>The high school canon</h2>
<p>The set of books that is taught again and again, broadly across the country, is referred to by literature scholars and English teachers as “the canon.” </p>
<p>The high school canon has been shaped by many factors. Shakespeare’s plays, especially “Macbeth” and “Julius Caesar,” have been taught consistently <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/1488191">since the beginning of the 20th century</a>, when the curriculum was determined by college entrance requirements. Others, like “To Kill a Mockingbird,” winner of the 1961 Pulitzer Prize for fiction, were ushered into the classroom by current events – in the case of Lee’s book, <a href="https://time.com/3928162/mockingbird-civil-rights-movement/">the civil rights movement</a>. Some books just seem especially suited for classroom teaching: “Of Mice and Men” has a straightforward plot, easily identifiable themes and is under 100 pages long.</p>
<p>Titles become “traditional” when they are passed down through generations. As the education historian Jonna Perrillo observes, <a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/made-by-history/2022/09/12/todays-book-bans-might-be-more-dangerous-than-those-past/">parents tend to approve</a> of having their children study the same books that they once did.</p>
<p>The last period of significant change to the canon was during the 1960s and 1970s, when the largest generation of the 20th century, the baby boomers, went to high school. For instance, in 1963, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/810053">a survey of 800 students</a> at Evanston Township High School in Illinois revealed that “To Kill a Mockingbird,” first published in 1960, was by far the “most enjoyed book,” followed by two books that had been published in the 1950s, J.D. Salinger’s “The Catcher in the Rye” and Golding’s “The Lord of the Flies.” None of these books were yet traditional, yet they became so for the next generation.</p>
<p>A comparison of national surveys conducted in 1963 and 1988 shows how several books that were introduced to the classroom when the boomers were students had become classics when boomers were teachers.</p>
<p><iframe id="UU1gm" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/UU1gm/3/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>During the 1960s and 1970s, teachers even reframed “Romeo and Juliet” as a contemporary work. Lesson plans from the era referred to its adaptations into “<a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/811316">West Side Story</a>” – a musical that <a href="https://www.westsidestory.com/1957-broadway">initially came out in 1957</a> – and Franco Zefferelli’s <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?q=zeffirelli+romeo&id=ED026386">risqué 1968 film version</a> of Shakespeare’s story of star-crossed lovers. It became the perfect hook for ninth graders in a study of Shakespeare that would conclude in 12th grade with “Macbeth.”</p>
<h2>Efforts to diversify</h2>
<p>English education professor <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=ED309453">Arthur Applebee observed in 1989</a> that, since the 1960s, “leaders in the profession of English teaching have tried to broaden the curriculum to include more selections by women and minority authors.” But in the late 1980s, according to his findings, the high school “top ten” still included only one book by a woman – Lee’s “To Kill a Mockingbird” – and none by minority authors.</p>
<p>At that time, a <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/1991/09/23/opinion/the-mosaic-and-the-melting-pot.html">raging debate</a> was underway about whether America was a “melting pot” in which many cultures became one, or a colorful “mosaic” in which many cultures coexisted. Proponents of the latter view argued for a multicultural canon, but they were ultimately unable to establish one. A 2011 survey of Southern schools by Joyce Stallworth and Louel C. Gibbons, published in “English Leadership Quarterly,” found that the five most frequently taught books were all traditional selections: “The Great Gatsby,” “Romeo and Juliet,” Homer’s “The Odyssey,” Arthur Miller’s “The Crucible” and “To Kill a Mockingbird.”</p>
<p>One explanation for this persistence is that the canon is not simply a list: It takes form as stacks of copies on shelves in the storage area known as the “book room.” Changes to the inventory require time, money and effort. Depending on the district, replacing a classic <a href="https://ncte.org/statement/material-selection-ela/">might require approval by the school board</a>. And it would create more work for teachers who are already maxed out. </p>
<p>“Too many teachers, probably myself included, teach from the traditional canon,” a teacher told Stallworth and Gibbons. “We are overworked and underpaid and struggle to find the time to develop quality lessons for new books.” </p>
<h2>The end of an era?</h2>
<p>Esau McCauley, the author of “Reading While Black,” describes the list of classics by white authors as the “<a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2022/09/07/opinion/what-should-high-schoolers-read.html?searchResultPosition=1">pre-integration canon</a>.” At least two factors suggest that its dominance over the curriculum is coming to an end.</p>
<p>First, the battles over which books should be taught have become more intense than ever. On the one hand, progressives like the teachers of the growing <a href="https://disrupttexts.org/">#DisruptTexts movement</a> call for the inclusion of books by <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/article/what-is-bipoc.html">Black, Native American and other authors of color</a> - and they question the status of the classics. On the other hand, conservatives have challenged or successfully banned the teaching of many new books that deal with gender and sexuality or race.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Toni Morrison wears her hair in gray locks under a cream-colored hat." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/484967/original/file-20220915-6106-4kq0zl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Conservatives have sought to ban books written by Toni Morrison.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.gettyimages.com/detail/news-photo/toni-morrison-american-writer-novelist-editor-italy-news-photo/1129511612?adppopup=true">Leonardo Cendamo via Getty Images</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>PEN America, a nonprofit organization that fights for free expression for writers, reports “<a href="https://pen.org/banned-in-the-usa/">a profound increase</a>” in book bans. The outcome might be a literature curriculum that more resembles the political divisions in this country. Much more than in the past, students in conservative and progressive districts might read very different books.</p>
<p>Second, English Language Arts education itself is changing. State standards, such as those <a href="http://www.nysed.gov/common/nysed/files/912elastandardsglance.pdf">adopted by New York in 2017</a>, no longer make the teaching of literature the primary focus of English class. Instead, there is a new emphasis on “<a href="http://www.nysed.gov/curriculum-instruction/teaching-learning-information-literacy">information literacy</a>.” And while preceding generations of teachers voiced concerns about the distractions of <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/42832830">radio</a> and then <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/42799566">television</a>, books may have an even smaller share of students’ attention in <a href="https://countercurrents.org/2021/04/impact-of-social-media-on-our-attention-span-and-its-drastic-aftermath/">the age of cellphones, the internet, social media and online gaming</a>.</p>
<p>“We no longer live in a print-dominant, text-only world,” the National Council of Teachers of English proclaims in <a href="https://ncte.org/statement/media_education/">a 2022 position statement</a>. The group calls for English teachers to put less emphasis on books in order to train students to use and analyze a variety of media. Accordingly, students across the country may not only have fewer books in common, but they also may be reading fewer books altogether.</p>
<h2>Why teach literature?</h2>
<p>Over generations, English teachers have voiced many reasons to teach books, and the canon in particular: to instill a <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/816405">common culture</a>, foster <a href="https://eric.ed.gov/?id=ED027289">citizenship</a>, build <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/820324">empathy</a> and cultivate <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/4128931">lifelong readers</a>. These goals have little to do with the skills emphasized by contemporary academic standards. But if literature is going to continue to be an important part of American education, it is important to talk not only about what books to teach, but the reasons why.</p>
<p><em>This story has been updated to correct the year that “West Side Story” appeared as a musical.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/188197/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Andrew Newman has received funding from John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation.</span></em></p>
An English professor takes a critical look at why today’s students are assigned the same books that were assigned decades ago – and why American school curricula are so difficult to change.
Andrew Newman, Professor and Chair, Stony Brook University (The State University of New York)
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/175520
2022-06-19T19:53:09Z
2022-06-19T19:53:09Z
Frankenstein: how Mary Shelley’s sci-fi classic offers lessons for us today about the dangers of playing God
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452995/original/file-20220318-12943-b0cfo5.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster.</span> </figcaption></figure><p><em>In our Guide to the Classics series, experts explain key works of literature.</em></p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/frankenstein-9780241425121">Frankenstein, or, The Modern Prometheus</a>, is an 1818 novel by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley. Set in the late 18th century, it follows scientist Victor Frankenstein’s creation of life and the terrible events that are precipitated by his abandonment of his creation. It is a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gothic_fiction">Gothic novel</a> in that it combines supernatural elements with horror, death and an exploration of the darker aspects of the psyche. </p>
<p>It also provides a complex critique of Christianity. But most significantly, as one of the first works of science-fiction, it explores the dangers of humans pursuing new technologies and becoming God-like.</p>
<h2>The celebrity story</h2>
<p>Shelley’s Frankenstein is at the heart of what might be the greatest celebrity story of all time. Shelley was born in 1797. Her mother, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mary_Wollstonecraft">Mary Wollstonecraft</a>, author of the landmark A Vindication of the Rights of Women (1792), was, according to that book’s introduction, “the first major feminist”. </p>
<p>Shelley’s father was <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/godwin/">William Godwin</a>, political philosopher and founder of “philosophical anarchism” – he was anti-government in the moment that the great democracies of France and the United States were being born. When she was 16, Shelley eloped with radical poet <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Percy_Bysshe_Shelley">Percy Shelley</a>, whose <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46565/ozymandias">Ozymandias</a> (1818) is still regularly quoted (“Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!”).</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="A pretty woman sitting between two men, looking anxious." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=337&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452987/original/file-20220318-19-lnulc8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Douglas Walton Percy Shelley Elsa Lanchester Mary Shelley and Gavin Gordon Lord Byron in the film The Bride of Frankenstein.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Their relationship seems to epitomise the Romantic era itself. It was crossed with outside love interests, illegitimate children, suicides, debt, wondering and wandering. And it ultimately came to an early end in 1822 when Percy Shelley drowned, his small boat lost in a storm off the Italian coast. The Shelleys also had a close association with the poet <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Byron">Lord Byron</a>, and it is this association that brings us to Frankenstein.</p>
<p>In 1816 the Shelleys visited Switzerland, staying on the shores of Lake Geneva, where they were Byron’s neighbours. As Mary Shelley tells it, they had all been reading ghost stories, including Coleridge’s <a href="https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43971/christabel">Christabel</a> (Coleridge had visited her father at the family house when Shelley was young), when Byron suggested that they each write a ghost story. Thus 18-year-old Shelley began to write Frankenstein.</p>
<h2>The myth of the monster</h2>
<p>The popular imagination has taken Frankenstein and run with it. The monster “Frankenstein”, originally “Frankenstein’s monster”, is as integral to Western culture as the characters and tropes from Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. </p>
<p>But while reasonable continuity remains between Carroll’s Alice and its subsequent reimaginings, much has been changed and lost in the translation from Shelley’s novel into the many versions that are rooted in the popular imagination.</p>
<iframe width="100%" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/TBHIO60whNw" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<p>There have been many varied adaptations, from <a href="https://youtu.be/TBHIO60whNw">Edward Scissorhands</a> to <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGzc0pIjHqw">The Rocky Horror Picture Show</a> (see <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/film/2021/feb/11/the-20-best-frankenstein-films-ranked">here</a> for a top 20 list of Frankenstein films). But despite the variety, it’s hard not to think of the “monster” as a zombie-like implacable menace, as we see in the <a href="https://youtu.be/BN8K-4osNb0">trailer to the 1931 movie</a>, or a lumbering fool, as seen in <a href="https://youtu.be/nBV8Cw73zhk">the Herman Munster incarnation</a>. Further, when we add the prefix “franken” it’s usually with disdain; consider “frankenfoods”, which refers to genetically modified foods, or “frankenhouses”, which describes contemporary architectural monstrosities or bad renovations. </p>
<p>However, in Shelley’s novel, Frankenstein’s creation is far from being two-dimensional or contemptible. To use the motto of the Tyrell corporation, which, in the 1982 movie Bladerunner, creates synthetic life, the creature strikes us as being “more human than human”. Indeed, despite their dissimilarities, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoAzpa1x7jU">the replicant Roy Batty in Bladerunner reproduces Frankenstein’s creature’s intense humanity</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=244&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=244&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=244&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452988/original/file-20220318-10625-19lfw2e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=307&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Roy Batty as a replicant in Blade Runner, delivering his famous tears in rain speech.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Some key elements in the plot</h2>
<p>The story of Victor Frankenstein is nested within the story of scientist-explorer Robert Walton. For both men, the quest for knowledge is mingled with fanatical ambition. The novel begins towards the end of the story, with Walton, who is trying to sail to the North Pole, rescuing Frankenstein from <a href="https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0c/Caspar_David_Friedrich_-_Das_Eismeer_-_Hamburger_Kunsthalle_-_02.jpg/1280px-Caspar_David_Friedrich_-_Das_Eismeer_-_Hamburger_Kunsthalle_-_02.jpg">sea ice</a>. Frankenstein is being led northwards by his creation towards a final confrontation. </p>
<p>The central moment in the novel is when Frankenstein brings his creation to life, only to be immediately repulsed by it:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I had worked hard for nearly two years, for the sole purpose of infusing life into an inanimate body. For this I had deprived myself of rest and health. I had desired it with an ardour that far exceeded moderation but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Victor Frankenstein, like others in the novel, is appalled by the appearance of his creation. He flees the creature and it vanishes. After a hiatus of two years, the creature begins to murder people close to Frankenstein. And when Frankenstein reneges on his promise to create a female partner for his creature, it murders his closest friend and then, on Frankenstein’s wedding night, his wife.</p>
<h2>More human than human</h2>
<p>The real interest of the novel lies not in the murders or the pursuit, but in the creature’s accounts of what <em>drove</em> him to murder. After the creature murders Frankenstein’s little brother, William, Frankenstein seeks solace in the Alps – in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanderer_above_the_Sea_of_Fog#/media/File:Caspar_David_Friedrich_-_Wanderer_above_the_sea_of_fog.jpg">sublime nature</a>. There, the creature comes upon Frankenstein and eloquently and poignantly relates his story. </p>
<figure class="align-left ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=865&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1087&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1087&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/452989/original/file-20220318-36080-1qgz6sk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1087&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">New York Public Library</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We learn that the creature spent a year secretly living in an outhouse attached to a hut occupied by the recently impoverished De Lacey family. As he became self-aware, the creature reflected that, “To be a great and virtuous man appeared the highest honour that can befall a sensitive being.” But when he eventually attempted to reveal himself to the family to gain their companionship, he was brutally driven from them. The creature was filled with rage. He says, “I could … have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.” More human than human.</p>
<p>After Victor Frankenstein dies aboard Walton’s ship, Walton has a final encounter with the creature, as it looms over Frankenstein’s body. To the corpse, the creature says:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Oh Frankenstein! Generous and self-devoted being! What does it avail that I now ask thee to pardon me? I, who irretrievably destroyed thee by destroying all thou lovedst.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The creature goes on to make several grand and tragic pronouncements to Walton. “My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy; and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change, without torture such as you cannot even imagine.” And shortly after, about the murder of Frankenstein’s wife, the creature says: “I knew that I was preparing for myself a deadly torture; but I was the slave, not the master, of an impulse, which I detested, yet could not disobey.”</p>
<p>These remarks encourage us to ponder some of the weightiest questions we can ask about the human condition:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>What is it that drives humans to commit horrible acts? Are human hearts, like the creature’s, fashioned for ‘love and sympathy’, and when such things are withheld or taken from us, do we attempt to salve the wound by hurting others? And if so, what is the psychological mechanism that makes this occur?</p>
</blockquote>
<p>And what is the relationship between free will and horrible acts? We cannot help but think that the creature remains innocent – that he is the slave, not the master. But then what about the rest of us? </p>
<p>The rule of law generally blames individuals for their crimes – and perhaps this is necessary for a society to function. Yet I suspect the rule of law misses something vital. Epictetus, the stoic philosopher, considered such questions millennia ago. He asked: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>What grounds do we have for being angry with anyone? We use labels like ‘thief’ and ‘robber’… but what do these words mean? They merely signify that people are confused about what is good and what is bad.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Unintended consequences</h2>
<p>Victor Frankenstein creates life only to abandon it. An unsympathetic interpretation of Christianity might see something similar in God’s relationship with humanity. Yet the novel itself does not easily support this reading; like much great art, its strength lies in its ambivalence and complexity. At one point, the creature says to Frankenstein: “Remember, that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed.” These and other remarks complicate any simplistic interpretation.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/453199/original/file-20220321-21-1fulrev.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In fact, the ambivalence of the novel’s religious critique supports its primary concern: the problem of technology allowing humans to become God-like. The subtitle of Frankenstein is “The Modern Prometheus”. In the Greek myth, <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prometheus">Prometheus</a> steals fire – a technology – from the gods and gives it to humanity, for which he is punished. In this myth and many other stories, technology and knowledge are double-edged. Adam and Eve eat the apple of knowledge in the Garden of Eden and are ejected from paradise. In 2001: A Space Odyssey, <a href="https://youtu.be/RWCvMwivrDk">humanity is born when the first tool is used</a> – a tool that augments humanity’s ability to be violent.</p>
<p>The novel’s subtitle is referring to Kant’s 1755 essay, “The Modern Prometheus”. In this, Kant observes that: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>There is such a thing as right taste in natural science, which knows how to distinguish the wild extravagances of unbridled curiosity from cautious judgements of reasonable credibility. From the Prometheus of recent times Mr. Franklin, who wanted to disarm the thunder, down to the man who wants to extinguish the fire in the workshop of Vulcanus, all these endeavors result in the humiliating reminder that Man never can be anything more than a man.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Victor Frankenstein, who suffered from an unbridled curiosity, says something similar: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>A human being in perfection ought always to preserve a calm and peaceful mind … If the study to which you apply yourself has a tendency to weaken your affections, and to destroy your taste for those simple pleasures in which no alloy can possibly mix, then that study is certainly unlawful, that is to say, not befitting the human mind. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>And also: “Learn from me … how dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to become greater than his nature will allow.” </p>
<p>In sum: be careful what knowledge you pursue, and how you pursue it. Beware playing God.</p>
<p>Alas, history reveals the quixotic nature of Shelley and Kant’s warnings. There always seems to be a scientist somewhere whose dubious ambitions are given free rein. And beyond this, there is always the problem of the unintended consequences of our discoveries. Since Shelley’s time, we have created numerous things that we fear or loathe such as the atomic bomb, cigarettes and other drugs, chemicals such as DDT, and so on. And as our powers in the realms of genetics and artificial intelligence grow, we may yet create something that loathes us.</p>
<p>It all reminds me of sociobiologist Edward O. Wilson’s relatively recent (2009) remark <a href="https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/acref/9780191826719.001.0001/q-oro-ed4-00016553">that</a>, “The real problem of humanity is the following: we have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and god-like technology.”</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/175520/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jamie Q Roberts does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The possibilities of ‘more human than human’ artificial intelligence and the dangers of playing God and are not new – they’re the subjects of one of the world’s first science-fiction novels.
Jamie Q Roberts, Lecturer in Politics and International Relations, University of Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/182335
2022-05-23T04:26:20Z
2022-05-23T04:26:20Z
Barbara Trapido’s ‘undeniably sexy’ novel of academic bohemia still dazzles at 40
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463243/original/file-20220516-22-9vwtpw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">arno smit iI r gSwWY unsplash</span> </figcaption></figure><p>Barbara Trapido’s debut novel, <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/brother-of-the-more-famous-jack-9781526612656/">Brother of the More Famous Jack</a>, is one of those books that seems destined to reach its readers in roundabout ways. </p>
<p>Like American novelist and Trapido fangirl Maria Semple, who has written the introduction to Bloomsbury’s new 40th anniversary edition, you could be lucky and stumble across it in a library sale bin, or a friend will press it into your hands.</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Review: Brother of the More Famous Jack by Barbara Trapido (Bloomsbury)</em></p>
<hr>
<p>And if by chance you’re asked to review it, you could start by scratching your head because you’ve never heard of this book with its distinctive title – even though it’s been around more than half your lifetime. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=920&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/462961/original/file-20220513-16-8y7kx8.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1156&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>Few books survive four decades of near-obscurity and still dazzle, but Trapido’s book does just that. It shimmers among this year’s company of books like some brightly coloured, sharp-witted, mini-skirted dolly bird from the 1960s who has gate-crashed a stuffy dinner party. </p>
<p>Irreverent and sweary, undeniably sexy, this coming-of-age novel plunges ahead unselfconsciously and with unusual candour. Its young protagonist, Katherine Browne, admits to compensating for her natural timidity “with odd flashes of bravado”. </p>
<p>A dozen pages in, and it feels as if an unknown hand has casually flicked on every light in the house, inadvertently blowing all the fuses. Semple describes the book as “<a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/brideshead-revisited-9780241472736">Brideshead Revisited</a> meets <a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0047437/">Sabrina</a> in bohemian 80s London”, and on the back cover, Meg Rosoff also mentions Brideshead, and places it in the 1970s. Neither have nailed its period, though Rosoff comes closest. </p>
<p>To anyone who lived through the years spanned by this book, the first part screams 1960s, from Katherine Browne’s little crocheted hats and thigh-high dresses, to the narrative’s pervasive, overt, and at times slightly perverse sexuality. </p>
<p>Comparisons with Brideshead Revisited occur because 18-year-old Katherine falls for a family, the Goldmans, but there is no whiff of the doomed melancholy that hangs over the tortured cast of <a href="https://theconversation.com/bloody-fool-evelyn-waughs-life-as-a-1920s-oxford-aesthete-57317">Evelyn Waugh</a>’s book. On the contrary, Trapido’s novel is funny and endearing; it is sometimes sad, but most of all it is unashamedly sexy, even lewd.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=253&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=253&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=253&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=318&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=318&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463248/original/file-20220516-17-vjfht8.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=318&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Matthew Goode and Ben Whishaw in Brideshead Revisited (2008)</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">IMDB</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If it is to be compared with any other book, it might be Nancy Mitford’s <a href="https://www.penguin.com.au/books/the-pursuit-of-love-9780241991848">The Pursuit of Love</a>, with its large, eccentric family, the Radletts of Alconleigh, and its sharp young women. But while Mitford’s delightfully dotty Radletts belong to the British upper classes, Trapido’s Goldman family are firmly middle-class, left-wing intellectuals.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/beyond-oxbridge-and-yale-popular-stories-bring-universities-to-life-we-need-more-of-them-in-australia-168943">Beyond Oxbridge and Yale: popular stories bring universities to life — we need more of them in Australia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Risque, razor-sharp and politically incorrect</h2>
<p>One of the many reasons we read fiction is to satisfy what Jeanette Winterson calls, in her essay “Writer, Reader, Words”, our “mirror of life” longings. And yet, novelists have never written so cautiously, never self-censored so assiduously, in an effort not to cause offence. </p>
<p>They routinely employ sensitivity readers to tease out knots of privilege, highlight clumsy cultural gaffes, race, gender, and age-demeaning stereotypes and clichés. The result is more inclusive fictional worlds than the real world most of us are living in – the world as it ought to be, rather than as it actually is. </p>
<p>Weeding out undesirable social “isms” is necessary work, and yet it could be argued that such adjustments create a false “mirror of life” reflection, at the same time giving free speech a very considerable knock. </p>
<p>What blows some of those fuses when reading Trapido’s novel – aside from the razor-sharp dialogue – is its absence of political correctness. </p>
<p>Sensitivity readers were not a thing when Brother of the More Famous Jack was written. Anyone who was an adult (or almost adult) during the 1960s will immediately recognise its risqué air of permissiveness, its tendency to talk back to authority. They will recognise, too, a string of sensitivity misdemeanours that may prove slightly shocking to any 21st-century shaped sensibility. </p>
<p>Most of the shocks, though not all, are administered by Jacob Goldman, the larger-than-life Jewish philosophy professor, hairy, boisterous, and opinionated father to the Goldman’s six-strong tribe of children. Jake unapologetically asserts his masculinity, his role as head of the Goldman family, and his near constant state of lust for his wife, Jane, this latter even in front of small children and weekend guests. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“What have you been hatching,” Jacob says, noticing the glow on her cheeks. He puts his hands over her breasts. He has no restraints about laying hands on her in public.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Jacob Goldman’s habit of groping his wife appears not to discomfit Jane, and she is, as he asserts, his lawful wife. Most reviewers love Jacob unreservedly, and perhaps if I had read this book 40 years ago I would have too. Back then, his shameless chauvinism would have seemed like muscle-flexing in the face of second-wave feminism. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=950&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=950&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=950&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1194&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1194&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/463247/original/file-20220516-22-amac5z.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1194&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Barbara Trapido (photographed by Tony Kaplan)</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>All this time later, the domineering male feels rather less lovable – not that Jane doesn’t stand up to him, or his children, for that matter. But Jake’s groping of his wife, his carping about her playing the piano, are less readily digested in the era of the <a href="https://theconversation.com/is-the-metoo-era-a-reckoning-a-revolution-or-something-else-176565">#MeToo</a> movement, so that some of these scenes are a little squirm-making. </p>
<p>In Jacob’s defence, he does not grope other women, and is otherwise kind and protective towards Katherine, who in the early part of the book is one of his first-year <a href="https://theconversation.com/philosophy-obsession-and-puzzling-people-julian-barnes-new-novel-explores-big-questions-179092">philosophy</a> students. And late in the book, when Katherine most needs it, his innate goodness will surface.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/sex-is-neither-good-nor-bad-but-writing-makes-it-so-51722">Sex is neither good nor bad, but writing makes it so</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Open sexuality and plaited onions</h2>
<p>As the only child of a greengrocer and a stay-at-home mother, raised in a quiet suburban brick bungalow notable for its cleanliness, and for its china ducks on the wall, Katherine is enchanted by the Goldmans. Arriving at their rambling and none-too-clean house in Sussex for the first time:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The house, as it presents itself from the road, is like a house one might see on a jigsaw puzzle box, seasonally infested with tall hollyhocks. The kind one put together on a tea tray while recovering from the measles.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Katherine has been whisked away for the weekend by stylish architect John Millet. John is an older <a href="https://theconversation.com/noted-works-after-homosexual-29336">gay man</a> who is devoted to Jane Goldman, yet not, it transpires, deterred by either of these facts from having designs on Katherine’s virginity. He is only diverted from sleeping with her in the Goldmans’ guest room at Jacob’s dogged insistence on separate rooms.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“I will not have this old faggot come here to my house in order to indulge a sideline in female children. Not with my pupils. Not with Katherine here. Is that clear to everyone present?”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Katherine perceives a world of difference between Jacob’s calling Millet “an old faggot” and her mother calling him “queer”. She had cried into her pillow over the latter, whereas Jacob’s pronouncement is made with none of her mother’s prim moral censure.</p>
<p>To Jacob, John says challengingly:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>“Hey, Jake, your wife is pregnant. What’s the matter with you people?”
“We like fucking,” Jacob says. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>The word drops like a rock on Katherine’s uninitiated sensibilities, but does nothing to shake Jane’s composure, or John’s.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/464692/original/file-20220523-13-yw5ujw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Katherine is enchanted by the Goldmans’ bohemian house, and rumpled, wellington-clad domestic goddess Jane Goldman becomes her role model.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Like so many useful confrontations, Katherine’s exposure to the openly declared sexuality between Jacob and Jane causes her to reconsider past; in particular, her own parents. </p>
<p>Jacob’s habit of blatantly inviting Jane to accompany him upstairs in the middle of the afternoon helps Katherine to think more charitably of her parents’ demure twin beds “with their matching candlewick spreads”. It helps her to conclude that “passion might go on even under candlewick. Even with the Eno’s Fruit Salts on the table between the beds.”</p>
<p>The Goldman family are ready-made for Katherine – who loves to knit – to fall into, and she quickly knits her way into their hearts. Jane, a “neglected Burne-Jones […] in wellingtons”, invites her into the garden to help plait onions, and soon becomes Katherine’s role model. When she first met Jacob, Jane explains, she was an</p>
<blockquote>
<p>upper-class Christian, buttoned up in cashmere. The product of a Scottish nanny and a girls’ boarding school. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>She had soon discovered that Jacob was much more fun. </p>
<p>Jane encourages her family to “make chamber music of the ‘Yellow Submarine’ on the flute, violin, piano and descant recorder”, and it is by her persistent efforts that the Goldmans’ eldest son Roger becomes a gifted violinist, and the next eldest, Jonty, pushes on with his flute playing. They sing together, too, and so breathtakingly that Katherine exclaims: “The songs cause me ever after to speak the name of John Dowland with reverence.” </p>
<p>Later, when Katherine knows the Goldmans better, she will scrub the kitchen floor for Jane as an act of pure devotion. </p>
<p>Towards the end, in a long moment, Jane makes a feisty feminist statement in front of her assembled family, telling Katherine what she must demand for herself in motherhood and marriage. That Katherine really doesn’t want to hear what Jane has to say is, sadly, all too believable. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-the-female-eunuch-at-50-germaine-greers-fearless-feminist-masterpiece-147437">Friday essay: The Female Eunuch at 50, Germaine Greer's fearless, feminist masterpiece</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Plunging into 1960s London</h2>
<p>When it was published, Brother of the More Famous Jack was the recipient of a Whitbread Special Prize for Fiction. Its author, born in South Africa, had migrated to England in 1963, when she was in her twenties. There she settled into life as the wife of an Oxford professor and raised children. Somewhere in the 1970s, she began to dream up the characters for this book.</p>
<p>Barbara Trapido’s experience of being plunged into 1960s London perhaps goes some way towards explaining the brilliance of this debut. The writing crackles and fizzes with all the clarity of vision and keen ear for dialogue of the observant outsider, deftly delivering what Maria Semple describes as “a daisy bomb of joy”. </p>
<p>Trapido went on to write six more novels. Some of them share characters, and one – <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/travelling-hornplayer-9780747594727/">The Travelling Hornplayer</a> – revisits, among other characters, Katherine Browne in another, later phase of her life. If you have not yet read Barbara Trapido, Brother of the More Famous Jack is the place to start.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/182335/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Carol Lefevre does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
This brainy feminist romp of a novel, loved by Rachel Cusk and Maria Semple, is often compared to Brideshead Revisited. But Carol Lefevre says it’s more like a sexy, sweary version of Nancy Mitford in 1960s London.
Carol Lefevre, Visiting Research Fellow, Department of English and Creative Writing, University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/166318
2021-08-24T12:16:48Z
2021-08-24T12:16:48Z
In ‘Rumors,’ Lizzo and Cardi B pull from the ancient Greeks, putting a new twist on an old tradition
<p>It isn’t often that a pop star releases a music video that aligns so well with <a href="https://www.bu.edu/amnesp/profile/grace-mcgowan/">my academic research</a>.</p>
<p>But that’s exactly what Lizzo did in her new song, “<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4P9XUrniiK4">Rumors</a>.” In it, she and Cardi B dress in Grecian goddess-inspired dresses, dance in front of classically inspired statuary, wear headdresses that evoke <a href="https://www.britannica.com/technology/caryatid">caryatids</a> and transform into Grecian vases. </p>
<p>They’re adding their own twist to what’s called <a href="https://www.oxfordbibliographies.com/view/document/obo-9780195399301/obo-9780195399301-0003.xml">the classical tradition</a>, a style rooted in the aesthetics of ancient Greece and Rome, and they’re only the most recent Black women artists to do so. </p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4P9XUrniiK4?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Lizzo and Cardi B evoke ancient Greece in the video for ‘Rumors.’</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>White supremacists wield the classics</h2>
<p>The classical tradition has been hugely influential in American society. You see it in the branding of Venus razors, named after the Roman goddess of beauty, and Nike sportswear, named for the ancient Greek goddess of victory; in the names of cities like Olympia, Washington, and Rome, Georgia; <a href="https://www.aoc.gov/explore-capitol-campus/buildings-grounds/neoclassical">in the neoclassical architecture</a> found in the nation’s capital; <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.org/article/greek-influence-us-democracy/">and in debates</a> over democracy, republicanism and citizenship.</p>
<p>However, in the 19th century, the classical tradition started being wielded against Black people in a specific way. In particular, pro-slavery lobbyists and slavery apologists <a href="https://oxford.universitypressscholarship.com/view/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199574674.001.0001/acprof-9780199574674">argued that the presence of slavery</a> in ancient Greece and Rome was what allowed the two empires to become pinnacles of civilization.</p>
<p>Even though ancient Greece and Rome traded with, fought against and <a href="https://theconversation.com/the-african-roots-of-swiss-design-154892">learned from</a> ancient African civilizations such as Egypt, <a href="https://www.mfa.org/exhibitions/nubia">Nubia</a> and Meroe, the presence and influence of these societies have tended to be downplayed or ignored.</p>
<p>Instead, ancient Greek and Roman aesthetics were held up as paragons of beauty and artistic sensibility. Classical statues such as the <a href="https://www.louvre.fr/en/explore/the-palace/ideal-greek-beauty">Venus de Milo</a> and the <a href="https://www.museivaticani.va/content/museivaticani/en/collezioni/musei/museo-pio-clementino/Cortile-Ottagono/apollo-del-belvedere.html">Apollo Belvedere</a> are often considered the apex of human perfection. And because marble statues from antiquity have, over time, <a href="https://hyperallergic.com/383776/why-we-need-to-start-seeing-the-classical-world-in-color/">lost their painted colors</a>, it’s influenced the widespread belief that all the deities were imagined as white.</p>
<p>For these reasons, Black women have rarely appeared in classical depictions and reproductions.</p>
<p>When they did – and especially in Western neoclassical art – it was usually in the form of mischaracterization or mockery.</p>
<p>For example, in Thomas Stothard’s 1801 engraving “<a href="https://collections.rmg.co.uk/collections/objects/254621.html">Voyage of the Sable Venus from Angola to the West Indies</a>,” he depicts a Black woman in the style of Botticelli’s “<a href="https://www.uffizi.it/en/artworks/birth-of-venus">Birth of Venus</a>” romanticizing the harrowing trauma of the slave trade’s <a href="https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part1/1p277.html">Middle Passage</a>. In the mid-19th century, <a href="https://theconversation.com/how-sarah-baartmans-hips-went-from-a-symbol-of-exploitation-to-a-source-of-empowerment-for-black-women-160063">Sarah Baartman</a>, a Black South African woman, was paraded around Europe and put on display due to her large buttocks. <a href="https://doi.org/10.1093/crj/clz008">She was derisively</a> dubbed the “Hottentot Venus.”</p>
<h2>Black artists push back</h2>
<p>At the turn of the 20th century, however, Black women started reclaiming classical deities of beauty, such as Venus. </p>
<p>Pauline Hopkins, a writer working in Boston for <a href="http://coloredamerican.org/">The Colored American Magazine</a>, played a pivotal role. A 1903 issue of the magazine published an editorial with no byline, though there’s scholarly consensus that Hopkins penned the piece. </p>
<p><a href="https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.b3793663&view=1up&seq=495">The editorial controversially argued</a> that the models for two paragons of classical beauty had actually been enslaved Ethiopians. </p>
<p>“Authorities in the art world demonstrated that the most famous examples of classic beauty in sculpture – the Venus de Milo and the Apollo Belvedere – were chiselled from Ethiopian slave models,” Hopkins wrote. Although it is difficult to know for sure, her editorial proposes an exciting set of possibilities around how African people and civilizations influenced classical beauty standards. </p>
<p>During her time with the magazine, Hopkins also wrote several serialized novels, including “<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-black-writers-and-journalists-have-wielded-punctuation-in-their-activism-161141">Of One Blood</a>,” which was published over the course of 1902 and 1903. </p>
<p>In it, the protagonist discovers a hidden African civilization called Telassar that has retreated from the world and so was able to escape the ravages of colonialism and the trans-Atlantic slave trade. The protagonist discovers that he is the heir to Telassar and should join forces with Queen Candace to bring the country out of hiding and take its place in the world. Hopkins frequently describes the great beauty of all the women in the novel in terms of their likeness to the classical deity Venus. </p>
<p>In both the editorial and the novel, Hopkins questions the very idea that the classical tradition can be deemed “white” or “European.” She calls on her readers to consider if these aesthetics and beauty ideals were, in fact, rooted in African traditions, only to be corrupted and co-opted by white supremacists. </p>
<p>Other artists have followed Hopkins’ lead. Toni Morrison’s fiction has reworked stories from the classical tradition, including Euripedes’ “<a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Medea-Greek-mythology">Medea</a>” and Ovid’s “<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-ovids-metamorphoses-and-reading-rape-65316">Metamorphoses</a>.” In Morrison’s novel “<a href="https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/117660/tar-baby-by-toni-morrison/">Tar Baby</a>,” the protagonist is a model who’s depicted as the “Copper Venus” in a magazine spread.</p>
<p>More recently, Beyoncé <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2017/07/14/arts/music/beyonce-twins-photo.html">announced the birth of her twins</a>, Rumi and Sir, by adapting Botticelli’s 1480 painting “Birth of Venus.” Meanwhile, artist <a href="https://linktr.ee/bbychakra">3rdeyechakra</a> has inserted Black female artists, such as Beyoncé, Megan Thee Stallion and Lizzo, into paintings of classical deities like Venus and Aphrodite.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CSZ0uEUFrum","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<h2>An old tradition with a new twist</h2>
<p>Which takes me to Lizzo’s joyful and gleeful reclamation of the classical tradition in her new music video with Cardi B.</p>
<p>In a song that focuses heavily on female empowerment and body positivity, Lizzo and Cardi B deploy the visual imagery, fashion, art and architecture of the classical era, while also populating it with people and bodies that have so long been excluded.</p>
<p>Lizzo and her dancers perform their choreography atop classical columns, positioning themselves as the muses – an allusion, perhaps, <a href="https://imgix.bustle.com/nylon/18433024/origin.jpg?w=1200&h=630&fit=crop&crop=faces&fm=jpg">to the Black muses</a> in Disney’s animated film “<a href="https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0119282/">Hercules</a>.” </p>
<p>The bodies of the statues in Lizzo’s video are not the chiseled physiques you’re accustomed to seeing in museums, while the various Grecian-style vases are painted with images of women in bondage gear, performing on poles and twerking. Lizzo and Cardi B also perform in front of statues that are deliberately centered on the buttocks. It’s an allusion not just to classical statues like the <a href="https://joyofmuseums.com/museums/europe/italy-museums/naples-museums/national-archaeological-museum-naples/venus-callipyge/">Venus Callipyge</a> – which translates to “Venus of the beautiful buttocks” – but also a playful dig at a culture <a href="https://www.law.georgetown.edu/poverty-inequality-center/wp-content/uploads/sites/14/2017/08/girlhood-interrupted.pdf">that historically has hypersexualized the bodies of Black women</a>. </p>
<p>I’d never suggest reading the comments section of any YouTube video. But with “Rumors” you don’t have to scroll for very long before coming across a heated debate around “cultural appropriation” in the music video. Some say that it’s Greek and Roman art that’s being pilfered and sullied.</p>
<p>But to me, it’s just another example of Black women trying to stake their own claim to the beauty, joy and power of this tradition. </p>
<p>When Lizzo and Cardi B touch their acrylics in a gesture reminiscent of Michaelangelo’s famous “<a href="http://www.italianrenaissance.org/michelangelo-creation-of-adam/">Creation of Adam</a>” painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, they’re transfigured into a Grecian vase in a flash of lightning. </p>
<p>Just like that, the centrality of Black women to the classical tradition is no longer just a rumor. </p>
<p>It’s true.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/166318/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Grace B. McGowan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The classical tradition has long excluded anyone who wasn’t white. But a succession of Black female artists have attempted to broaden these ossified boundaries.
Grace B. McGowan, PhD Candidate in American Studies, Boston University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/151176
2021-02-11T21:23:26Z
2021-02-11T21:23:26Z
Lovers of Sappho thrilled by ‘new’ poetry find, but its backstory may have been fabricated
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383094/original/file-20210208-13-1bdi9av.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C27%2C799%2C455&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fragments of Sappho? The 2014 discovery was of five stanzas of one poem and portions of a second. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">('Sappho and Erinna in a Garden at Mytilene,'1864, by Simeon Solomon)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Museum of the Bible in Washington recently announced it has <a href="https://www.museumofthebible.org/newsroom/update-on-iraqi-and-egyptian-items">returned 5,000 fragments of ancient papyrus to Egypt</a>. Among them are <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/23850356">fragments of poetry</a> by the ancient Greek poet Sappho the museum had acquired <a href="https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/06/museum-of-the-bible-obbink-gospel-of-mark/610576/">in 2012</a>.</p>
<p>The announcement follows years of questions about the origins of the fragments, <a href="http://www.jstor.org/stable/43909704">and the origins of a fragment from the same papyrus roll</a> that came to public attention in 2014.
Scholars and literary critics were abuzz after <em>The Daily Beast</em> reported on Jan. 28, 2014, that papyrologist Dirk Obbink of the University of Oxford had <a href="https://www.thedailybeast.com/scholars-discover-new-poems-from-ancient-greek-poetess-sappho.html">identified two new poems by Sappho</a>. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.cambridge.org/ca/academic/subjects/classical-studies/classical-literature/sappho-new-translation-complete-works?format=HB">Sappho of Lesbos</a> is one of the earliest <a href="https://www.britannica.com/biography/Sappho-Greek-poet">Greek lyric poets</a>, famed in antiquity for the polish and elegance of her verse. </p>
<p>Today, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2002/08/26/books/books-of-the-times-the-mystery-of-sappho-and-her-erotic-legacy.html">Sappho’s legacy extends beyond poetry</a>. Her expressions of female <a href="https://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/chicago/S/bo3619781.html">same-sex desire</a> <a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-sappho-a-poet-in-fragments-90823">(“… sweat pours down me / a tremor shakes me …”)</a> have made <a href="https://doi.org/10.1353/hel.0.0008">her an icon</a> for some <a href="https://theithacan.org/media/the-pride-pod-sappho-of-lesbos/">LGBTQ+ communities</a>.</p>
<p>Little of Sappho’s poetry survives, and what does is fragmentary. Obbink’s discovery was remarkable because it preserved the final five stanzas of one poem and portions of a second, making it one of the longest continuous sequences of Sapphic verse. </p>
<p>News of the discovery made <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jan/29/sappho-ancient-greek-poet-unknown-works-discovered">international headlines</a>, but serious questions about the papyrus’s <a href="https://facesandvoices.wordpress.com/2014/02/11/sappho-papyrology-and-the-media/">origins, acquisition and ownership history</a> — its provenance — did not. Provenance is important for establishing the authenticity and legal status of antiquities.</p>
<p>In the fall, I published <a href="http://doi.org/10.2143/BASP.57.0.3288503">new research</a> into a digital sales brochure produced by the auction house <a href="https://www.christies.com/">Christie’s</a>. My research calls into question the published accounts of the papyrus’s provenance. I believe the accounts of the Sappho papyrus’s origins that Obbink published were fabricated, and that its owner had access to Obbink’s unpublished research and sought to capitalize upon it.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="One woman leading another by the hand." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=634&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=634&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/382889/original/file-20210207-21-1tg0a4f.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=634&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Little of Sappho’s oeuvre has survived, but the poet continues to stir people’s imagination.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Legal, ethical concerns</h2>
<p>Papyri originate almost without exception in Egypt. In 1983, the Egyptian government passed <a href="https://en.unesco.org/sites/default/files/egypt_law3_2010_entof.pdf">legislation</a> prohibiting the domestic trade in antiquities, establishing definitively that the country’s archeological heritage is state property. </p>
<p>To combat looting and the illegal antiquities trade, <a href="https://www.papyrology.org/resolutions.html">more than</a> <a href="https://classicalstudies.org/about/scs-statement-professional-ethics">one scholarly</a> association’s <a href="https://www.archaeological.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/Code-of-Ethics.pdf">ethical guidelines</a> cite the <a href="https://en.unesco.org/fighttrafficking/1970">1970 UNESCO Convention on Cultural Property</a> in condemning the study of newly surfaced antiquities. According to those guidelines, scholars shouldn’t authenticate or publish objects that left their country of origin illegally or prior to the 1970 convention.</p>
<p>How and when the Sappho papyrus left Egypt are pressing legal and ethical questions.</p>
<p><em>The Daily Beast</em> linked to an unpublished, draft article Obbink briefly made available on <a href="https://newsappho.wordpress.com/">a blog</a>. </p>
<p>Regarding the papyrus’s origins, it said only that it was newly uncovered and in the private collection of an anonymous owner.</p>
<h2>Scholarly questions</h2>
<p>Historian and broadcaster Bettany Hughes soon reported in London’s <em>Sunday Times</em> that Obbink discovered the papyrus after prising it from <a href="https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/lover-poet-muse-and-a-ghost-made-real-dwj29ldp8c5">mummy cartonnage — the casing of an Egyptian burial similar to papier-mâché</a>. </p>
<p>Obbink <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/03/opinion/papyrus-provenance-and-looting.html">corroborated its origin in mummy cartonnage</a> in a <em>Times Literary Supplement</em> article. Hughes stated that the papyrus’s “provenance was obscure” and that it “was originally owned, it seems, by a high-ranking German officer.” Obbink said only that its provenance was both documented and legal.</p>
<p>Scholars <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2020/jan/09/a-scandal-in-oxford-the-curious-case-of-the-stolen-gospel">questioned the mummy cartonnage narrative because the practice of recycling papyri in the manufacture of cartonnage</a> ceased long before the papyrus was copied. </p>
<p>When Obbink’s <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/23850358">scholarly paper was finally published on April 10, 2014</a>, it didn’t discuss provenance. </p>
<p>A year later, <a href="https://classicalstudies.org/sites/default/files/ckfinder/files/FinalProgramProof.pdf">Obbink revised</a> the papyrus’s origin story at a scholarly conference on Jan. 9, 2015. He said it was recovered from an unpainted fragment of papyrus cartonnage that was purchased at a <a href="https://www.christies.com/lotfinder/Lot/a-collection-of-greek-and-coptic-papyri-5504745-details.aspx">2011 Christie’s auction</a>. He did not specify when the recovery took place.</p>
<h2>The Christie’s brochure</h2>
<p>After Obbink’s presentation, Christie’s produced a 26-page brochure advertising the new Sappho papyrus for private sale. It circulated exclusively among Christie’s clientele, and was unknown to scholars. I received a digital copy from Ute Wartenberg Kagan, a scholar of ancient Greek coinage, which she obtained from a client of Christie’s. The brochure contained photographs captioned as “the recovery of the Sappho papyrus.” When I inquired about the brochure, Christie’s responded: “We cannot discuss private sales activities unless authorized to do so.”</p>
<p>I hoped to learn when the files had been created and modified, and to scrutinize what the images depicted more closely. I ran a computer program that examined the brochure and its JPG files, and was able to <a href="https://dataverse.lib.umanitoba.ca/dataverse/sapphometadata">extract the metadata</a> associated with them. </p>
<p>I concluded that the photos presented in the Christie’s brochure were staged and don’t depict the extraction of the Sappho papyrus. In my view, the photos document the story about mummy cartonnage that Hughes and Obbink wrote about. </p>
<p>One photo includes a panel of cartonnage I have identified as <a href="https://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2008/antiquities-n08500/lot.89.html?locale=en">previously belonging to a high-ranking German officer</a>, as was mentioned in Hughes’s report. The story was never plausible — scholars questioned it and Obbink subsequently revised it. But the brochure, I believe, bears witness to the original narrative. </p>
<p>I also concluded that the anonymous owner of the papyrus had access to Obbink’s unpublished research, and undertook to propose the papyrus for private sale almost immediately after Obbink presented the revised story at the scholarly conference Jan. 9, 2015.</p>
<p>The brochure’s “Provenance” section cited not Obbink’s January presentation but a scholarly article that wasn’t published until June 15, nearly four months after the creation of the brochure.</p>
<p>In response to an article in <em>The Guardian</em> that reported on my research, Christie’s said it: “… <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2020/jan/09/a-scandal-in-oxford-the-curious-case-of-the-stolen-gospel">would never knowingly offer any works of art without good title or incorrectly catalogued or authenticated</a>. We take our name and reputation very seriously and would take all necessary steps available to address any situation of inappropriate use.” </p>
<h2>Scholarly ethics and antiquities</h2>
<p>Scholars are wary of the antiquities market because academic appraisals add to objects’ commercial value, which can incentivize looting and the illegal trade in antiquities. Scholarship also offers legitimacy.</p>
<p>For this reason, scholars must scrutinize new discoveries carefully before conducting or publishing research, and present their findings transparently. When the media reports on preliminary research, it is <a href="https://theconversation.com/in-the-rush-for-coronavirus-information-unreviewed-scientific-papers-are-being-publicized-152912">important to convey its preliminary nature</a>.</p>
<p>Last April, an Oxford student newspaper reported that Obbink had been arrested Mar. 2, 2020, for “<a href="https://www.theoxfordblue.co.uk/2020/04/16/exclusive-christ-church-professor-arrested-over-scandal-of-stolen-papyrus">for alleged theft of ancient papyrus from the Sackler Classics Library in Oxford</a>.” <a href="https://wacotrib.com/news/higher_education/oxford-professor-who-worked-at-baylor-allegedly-stole-ancient-bible-fragments-sold-them-to-hobby/article_52db7c0b-a13f-5fdc-8a09-5ddb1f82af29.html">Obbink has denied</a> those allegations.</p>
<p>Questions remain about the 2014 Sappho papyrus. The Museum of the Bible’s recent announcement acknowledges the “<a href="https://www.museumofthebible.org/newsroom/update-on-iraqi-and-egyptian-items">insufficient reliable provenance information</a>” of its papyri — including its Sappho fragments. The chapter about the museum’s Sappho papyri has concluded, but the status of the Sappho papyrus Obbink discovered is uncertain. The papyrus’s present owner is anonymous and its location is unknown.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/151176/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>C. Michael Sampson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
In 2014, reports of a new discovery of Sappho’s poems were remarkable. New research argues the papyrus had a fabricated backstory.
C. Michael Sampson, Associate Professor of Classics, University of Manitoba
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/135028
2020-04-02T01:59:07Z
2020-04-02T01:59:07Z
Leaders as healers: Ancient Greek ideas on the health of the body politic
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/324516/original/file-20200401-66155-1odtibc.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=49%2C0%2C5472%2C3628&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Detail from Raphael rooms in Vatican museum.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://image.shutterstock.com/image-photo/vatican-city-june-12-2015-600w-318346352.jpg">Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>In the current health crisis, we might ask what needs to be cured more urgently: the virus itself or people’s poor sense of moderation. </p>
<p>We have seen shocking footage of panicked citizens fighting over the last pack of toilet tissue, our politicians’ exasperation at selfish stockpiling, and blasé disinterest from those who don’t think social isolation rules apply to them. </p>
<p>The Athenian philosopher Plato outlines in his dialogues, especially the <a href="http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/symposium.html">Symposium</a> and the <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1750/1750-h/1750-h.htm">Laws</a>, the practice of civic moderation – <em>sophrosyne</em> in Greek – in an ideal state. </p>
<p>Plato, drawing on ideas already developed by earlier Greek writers, saw justice and injustice in the soul as comparable to health and illness in the body. Although Plato eventually promoted philosophers as political leaders, many writers saw leaders as <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.1163/j.ctt1w76vxr.7#metadata_info_tab_contents">physicians curing diseased communities</a>. These ideas feed into what we expect from politicians today.</p>
<h2>First, do no harm</h2>
<p>The therapeutic effect of politicians was already a powerful metaphor in early 5th century BCE poetry (alongside the idea of the leader as captain of the <a href="https://brill.com/view/book/edcoll/9789004345010/B9789004345010_011.xml">Ship of State</a>. </p>
<p>In his Fourth <a href="https://www.loebclassics.com/view/pindar-pythian_odes/1997/pb_LCL056.217.xml">Pythian Ode</a>, written in 462-461 BCE, the lyric poet <a href="https://www.livius.org/articles/person/pindar/">Pindar</a> compares Arcesilaus IV, the king of Cyrene, with a physician. The king is entreated to “heal” the city which has been left wounded by the exile of a prominent citizen, Damophilus (whose name, conveniently, means “dear to the people”). </p>
<p>In Aeschylus’ tragic play <a href="http://classics.mit.edu/Aeschylus/agamemnon.html">Agamemnon</a>, written in 458 BCE, the king, having just returned from Troy, announces to the Argive assembly his political agenda. He will maintain what is good, “but whenever there is need of healing remedies”, he “will try by applying either cautery or the knife <em>reasonably</em> to avert the damage of the disease”. In simple terms: cut out the bad bits with surgical means if necessary. </p>
<p>According to ancient historian <a href="https://theconversation.com/thucydides-and-the-plague-of-athens-what-it-can-teach-us-now-133155">Thucydides</a>, <a href="https://www.ancient.eu/Nicias/">Nicias</a>, the general who warned the Athenians about the disastrous Sicilian expedition of 415-413 BCE, advised the city’s executive council to act as physicians “in trying to do as much good as possible or at least no voluntary harm”. </p>
<p>Both Nicias and his political opponent <a href="https://www.ancientworldmagazine.com/articles/political-pragmatist-adventures-alcibiades/">Alcibiades</a> agreed that the Athenians needed to change their usual way of doing politics to deal with the crisis at hand. Nicias insisted on a radical, immediate change of habits. Alcibiades argued remedies ought to be proportionate. </p>
<p>By employing medical metaphors in their arguments, they sound very much like today’s politicians <a href="https://www.usnews.com/news/politics/articles/2020-03-15/biden-sanders-to-debate-against-backdrop-of-global-pandemic">debating</a> approaches to the pandemic. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/thucydides-and-the-plague-of-athens-what-it-can-teach-us-now-133155">Thucydides and the plague of Athens - what it can teach us now</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A healthy balance</h2>
<p>The use of the leader-as-physician metaphor by ancient Greek poets and historians reflected the rising prominence of the <a href="http://exhibits.hsl.virginia.edu/antiqua/humoral/">Hippocratic Corpus</a>, a collection of texts associated with Hippocrates and his teachings. The collection also highlights the tension between medicine, mainly preoccupied with curing symptoms, and philosophy, whose aim is that understanding nature and its causes. </p>
<p>The Hippocratic texts advocate the notion of health as a kind of balancing act: between elements in the body such as cold, hot, wet, dry, sweet, bitter or, in terms of bodily fluids, a balance between blood, phlegm, yellow and black bile. </p>
<p><a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/alcmaeon/">Alcmaeon of Croton</a>, an early medical writer and philosopher, described this balance as <em>isonomia</em> (equality). In addition, he called disease, which he understood as the prevalence of one of these elements or fluids, <em>monarchia</em> (monarchy), clearly borrowing his terminology from politics. </p>
<h2>The body politic</h2>
<p>Plato, a voracious reader, preoccupied with the ideal constitution, appreciated the leader-as-physician metaphor.</p>
<p>The <em>Laws</em>, Plato’s last work, explores the ethics of government and law, including the notions of social responsibility and restorative punishment. Plato thought justice (Greek <em>dikaiosyne</em>) secured a better life for the individual and made them more willing to obey laws. At a social level, “the union of justice, moderation, and wisdom” is proposed as the solution, or prescription, to ensure social harmony – like the balance the Hippocratics aspired to for the body.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=612&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/324772/original/file-20200401-23100-1ang2lj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=769&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Roman mosaic depicting Plato’s academy from 1st century BCE Pompeii, now at the Museo Nazionale Archeologico, Naples.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:MANNapoli_124545_plato%27s_academy_mosaic.jpg">Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Plato advocates moderation (<em>sophrosyne</em>) as a most excellent quality in the pursuit of justice and virtue. He also references mental health and civic moderation. Besides the clinically mad, he says, there are two other groups of people who may behave foolishly: the young who can be reckless as a result of naivety, and those unable to withstand pleasures and sorrows or control their fears, desires, and frustrations. Plato describes their disease as <em>anoia</em> (mindlessness). </p>
<p>His proposed “cure” is risky: to instil permanent bravery in the citizens, he argues, we may use a fear drug to artificially arouse fear in them, either fear of bad reputation or fear of the enemy. By applying a drug <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/classical-quarterly/article/wine-and-catharsis-of-the-emotions-in-platos-laws/436F8DFD74D0E2C5D735470241C96A53">similar to wine</a> as a medicine (<em>pharmakon</em>), the citizens would be purged of vice and a sense of moderation restored. </p>
<p>Like modern medicine, the process is allopathic: using remedies to produce effects different from those produced by the disease being treated. Bravery is produced by fear, moderation by excess. </p>
<h2>Learning moderation the hard way</h2>
<p>In Thucydides’ <a href="http://classics.mit.edu/Thucydides/pelopwar.html">History of the Peloponnesian War</a> Greek history’s bad boy, Alcibiades, makes a familiar call to arms: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>… understand that neither youth nor old age can do anything without each other, but together the frivolous, the middling, and the very exact, when united, will have most strength. And that, by sinking into inaction, the city, like everything else, will wear itself out … </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In modern political parlance: we’re all in this together. </p>
<p>The trouble might be today’s citizens are getting mixed messages. On the one hand, they hear Alcibiades’ rallying cry. But they also hear, via the mouths of political office holders, his political opponent Nicias’ more drastic treatment approach for a sick society at war. Nicias asked the Athenians to vote to “Stay home.” History proved him right.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/135028/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Eva Anagnostou-Laoutides is Associate Professor of Ancient History at Macquarie University and a Future Fellow (2017-2021) funded by the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>
Ancient Greek philosophers including Plato likened civic leaders to doctors, creating a healthy society through balance and moderation. Those ideas feed into what we expect from leaders today.
Eva Anagnostou-Laoutides, Associate Professor in Ancient History, Australian Research Council Future Fellow, Macquarie University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/133155
2020-03-20T02:55:01Z
2020-03-20T02:55:01Z
Thucydides and the plague of Athens - what it can teach us now
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321510/original/file-20200319-60922-cwyky3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=15%2C30%2C3326%2C1593&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Pericles Funeral Oration on the Greek 50 Drachmai 1955 Banknote.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://image.shutterstock.com/z/stock-photo-greece-circa-pericles-funeral-oration-on-drachmai-banknote-from-greece-famous-171449342.jpg">Shutterstock</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>The coronavirus is concentrating our minds on the fragility of human existence in the face of a deadly disease. Words like “epidemic” and “pandemic” (and “panic”!) have become part of our daily discourse. </p>
<p>These words are Greek in origin, and they point to the fact that the Greeks of antiquity thought a lot about disease, both in its purely medical sense, and as a metaphor for the broader conduct of human affairs. What the Greeks called the “plague” (<em>loimos</em>) features in some memorable passages in Greek literature.</p>
<p>One such description sits at the very beginning of western literature. <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/files/2199/2199-h/2199-h.htm">Homer’s Iliad</a>, (around 700BC), commences with a description of a plague that strikes the Greek army at Troy. Agamemnon, the leading prince of the Greek army, insults a local priest of Apollo called Chryses. </p>
<p>Apollo is the plague god – a destroyer and healer – and he punishes all the Greeks by sending a pestilence among them. Apollo is also the archer god, and he is depicted firing arrows into the Greek army with a terrible effect:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Apollo strode down along the pinnacles of Olympus angered</p>
<p>in his heart, carrying on his shoulders the bow and the hooded</p>
<p>quiver; and the shafts clashed on the shoulders of the god walking angrily.
…</p>
<p>Terrible was the clash that rose from the bow of silver.</p>
<p>First he went after the mules and the circling hounds, then let go</p>
<p>a tearing arrow against the men themselves and struck them.</p>
<p>The corpse fires burned everywhere and did not stop burning.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Plague narratives</h2>
<p>About 270 years after the Iliad, or thereabouts, plague is the centrepiece of two great classical Athenian works – <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/31">Sophocles’ Oedipus the King</a>, and Book 2 of <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7142">Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War</a>. </p>
<p>Thucydides (c.460-400BC) and Sophocles (490-406BC) would have known one another in Athens, although it is hard to say much more than that for a lack of evidence. The two works mentioned above were produced at about the same time. The play Oedipus was probably produced about 429 BC, and the plague of Athens occurred in 430-426 BC.</p>
<p>Thucydides writes prose, not verse (as Homer and Sophocles do), and he worked in the comparatively new field of “history” (meaning “enquiry” or “research” in Greek). His focus was the Peloponnesian war fought between Athens and Sparta, and their respective allies, between 431 and 404 BC.</p>
<p>Thucydides’ description of the plague that struck Athens in 430 BC is one of the great passages of Greek literature. One of the remarkable things about it is how focused it is on the general social response to the pestilence, both those who died from it and those who survived.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321512/original/file-20200319-60945-dfnino.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Statue portrait of historian Thucydides outside the Austrian parliament in Vienna.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://image.shutterstock.com/image-photo/statue-portrait-greek-historian-thucydides-600w-718200253.jpg">Shutterstock</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A health crisis</h2>
<p>The description of the plague immediately follows on from Thucydides’ renowned account of Pericles’ Funeral Oration (it is important that Pericles died of the plague in 429 BC, whereas Thucydides caught it but survived). </p>
<p>Thucydides gives a general account of the early stages of the plague – its likely origins in north Africa, its spread in the wider regions of Athens, the struggles of the doctors to deal with it, and the high mortality rate of the doctors themselves. </p>
<p>Nothing seemed to ameliorate the crisis – not medical knowledge or other forms of learning, nor prayers or oracles. Indeed “in the end people were so overcome by their sufferings that they paid no further attention to such things”.</p>
<p>He describes the symptoms in some detail – the burning feeling of sufferers, stomachaches and vomiting, the desire to be totally naked without any linen resting on the body itself, the insomnia and the restlessness. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=413&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=413&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=413&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=518&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=518&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/321513/original/file-20200319-60931-1t0iwk1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=518&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Michiel Sweerts’ Plague in an Ancient City (circa 1652).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Plague_in_an_Ancient_City_LACMA_AC1997.10.1_(1_of_2).jpg">Wikimedia</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The next stage, after seven or eight days if people survived that long, saw the pestilence descend to the bowels and other parts of the body – genitals, fingers and toes. Some people even went blind. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Words indeed fail one when one tries to give a general picture of this disease; and as for the sufferings of individuals, they seemed almost beyond the capacity of human nature to endure.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Those with strong constitutions survived no better than the weak. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The most terrible thing was the despair into which people fell when they realized that they had caught the plague; for they would immediately adopt an attitude of utter hopelessness, and by giving in in this way, would lose their powers of resistance.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Lastly, Thucydides focuses on the breakdown in traditional values where self-indulgence replaced honour, where there existed no fear of god or man. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>As for offences against human law, no one expected to live long enough to be brought to trial and punished: instead everyone felt that a far heavier sentence had been passed on him.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The whole description of the plague in Book 2 lasts only for about five pages, although it seems longer. </p>
<p>The first outbreak of plague lasted two years, whereupon it struck a second time, although with less virulence. When Thucydides picks up very briefly the thread of the plague a little bit later (3.87) he provides numbers of the deceased: 4,400 hoplites (citizen-soldiers), 300 cavalrymen and an unknown number of ordinary people. </p>
<blockquote>
<p>Nothing did the Athenians so much harm as this, or so reduced their strength for war.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>A modern lens</h2>
<p>Modern scholars <a href="https://www.ancient.eu/article/939/the-plague-at-athens-430-427-bce/">argue</a> over the science of it all, not the least because Thucydides offers a generous amount of detail of the symptoms. </p>
<p>Epidemic typhus and smallpox are most favoured, but about 30 different diseases have been <a href="https://www.amazon.com.au/Ecology-Ancient-Greek-World/dp/0715623397">posited</a>.</p>
<p>Thucydides offers us a narrative of a pestilence that is different in all kinds of ways from what we face. </p>
<p>The lessons that we learn from the coronavirus crisis will come from our own experiences of it, not from reading Thucydides. But these are not mutually exclusive. Thucydides offers us a description of a city-state in crisis that is as poignant and powerful now, as it was in 430BC.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/133155/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Chris Mackie does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Thucydides’ description of the plague that struck Athens in 430 BC is one of the great passages of Greek literature. It focusses on the social response, both of those who died and those who survived.
Chris Mackie, Professor of Classics, La Trobe University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/131535
2020-02-13T11:09:45Z
2020-02-13T11:09:45Z
Has Boris Johnson been picking up tips from the Roman emperors?
<p>Boris Johnson has promised the UK a “new age” since becoming the country’s prime minister. Sometimes this can only be achieved with some thorough spring cleaning: Johnson’s cabinet purges may remind us of the bloodier and more far-reaching proscriptions of Rome’s first emperor, <a href="https://www.historyextra.com/period/roman/the-bloody-rise-of-augustus/">Augustus</a>.</p>
<p>Johnson imitates Roman emperors’ tactics in other ways. On the eve of Brexit, he <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-51315772">addressed the nation</a> with glowing optimism for the future: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>The most important thing to say tonight is that this is not an end but a beginning. This is the moment when the dawn breaks and the curtain goes up on a new act. It is a moment of real national renewal and change.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Roughly 1700 years ago, a Roman commander named Carausius led a rebellion against continental power to establish his own empire in Britain. He too sought his subjects’ confidence in his ability to preside over an era of peace and stability, and broadcast his message through a <a href="https://hcr.ashmus.ox.ac.uk/coin/hcr24480">series of coins</a> that proclaimed him “Restorer of the Age”.</p>
<p>Johnson and Carausius both participate in a common form of political rhetoric: an attempt to legitimise one’s authority by demonstrating power and ability to usher in a “new age” for one’s country. New leaders will often try to portray themselves and their governments as uniquely gifted to end old quarrels, make new trade agreements, secure borders, and bring about a period of prosperity and general well-being.</p>
<p>New age rhetoric by definition focuses on beginnings, not endings, as Johnson does. This is smart. Any attention to the close of an opponent’s “reign” or era highlights the fact that the new leader’s own period of power will come to an end, very possibly due to his own failures and rejection by fellow citizens. If Johnson was to dwell on earlier conflicts, he would detract from his promises of future concord: painful memories should be set aside, old wounds glossed over.</p>
<p>But new age rhetoric can never fully reject the past: it must acknowledge the values and traditions of one’s society. Hence the need to link “newness” to renewal and restoration, as Johnson does (and Carausius). “Progress”, in this sense, means a return to the good things of an idealised bygone time, a “Golden Age”, with a few tweaks and changes to keep pace with the modernised world.</p>
<h2>Old new age</h2>
<p>Such tactics are probably as old as time. Carausius borrowed the idea from earlier emperors, particularly Augustus, who created a religious festival in 17 BC to celebrate his new age of peace after a long civil war. </p>
<p>Johnson certainly has a few British models: during a <a href="https://www.margaretthatcher.org/document/104065">speech</a> at a Conservative rally in 1979, Margaret Thatcher spoke of a “new age” for her party. And in 2017, Theresa May <a href="https://inews.co.uk/news/politics/theresa-mays-first-us-speech-full-529924">urged the US</a> to “renew the Special Relationship for this new age”. Labour can use this rhetoric, too, as <a href="http://www.assembly.coe.int/nw/xml/Speeches/Speech-XML2HTML-EN.asp?SpeechID=250">Harold Wilson</a> did in 1967 in his address to the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe, calling for a “new age of enfranchisement”.</p>
<p>But Johnson’s rhetoric is more extravagant than that of his predecessors, and occurs at critical, emotionally charged moments in his political career. On July 25 2019, in his first address to the Commons as prime minister, Johnson <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-49107417">proclaimed</a> the “beginning of a new golden age”. After his first Queen’s Speech on October 14 2019, <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-50039587">he told the Commons</a> that delivering Brexit by October 31 meant a “new age of opportunity for the whole country”. And on December 19 2019, in the same context, Johnson <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-politics-50842124">reiterated</a> that “a new golden age for this United Kingdom is now within reach”.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="Tweet" data-react-props="{"tweetId":"1208460049431113728"}"></div></p>
<p>Like Augustus, Johnson understands that a long and bitterly divided nation craves stability and settlement – and is therefore more easily swayed by excessive promises of novelty. But any new age needs to be delivered swiftly and successfully, and the rhetoric grows stale if used too frequently. The emperor Philip I (also known as Philip the Arab) celebrated a new age in the year 248 and was killed soon after, ushering in decades of civil strife in which dozens of competing emperors, including Carausius, announced their “new age” on coins during their pitifully short reigns. </p>
<p>So Johnson’s successors will have to avoid new age tactics as a cliché. A new challenger to Johnson can still set out plans for the future with hopeful and persuasive rhetoric, but could pair this with a very different strategy: apologies for the past mistakes of one’s party. </p>
<h2>The greats</h2>
<p>Johnson may be aware of the connection between his rhetorical style and the official communications of Roman emperors. His degree at Oxford was in <em>Literae humaniores</em>, nicknamed “the greats”: an undergraduate course focused on classics. This serves him as a form of social capital (and it’s worth noting that such training was pursued by young men from elite Roman families in preparation for government careers). </p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/314819/original/file-20200211-146720-3oagcg.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bust of Nero at the Capitoline Museum, Rome.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Nero_1.JPG">cjh1452000/Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>He has also mastered the art of self-presentation: his signature hairstyle makes him easily recognisable to the masses. One is reminded of the myriads of busts scattered across Rome’s empire bearing Augustus’s perfectly <a href="https://research.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId=466397&partId=1">dishevelled locks</a> or Nero’s unfortunate <a href="http://www.museicapitolini.org/en/percorsi/percorsi_per_sale/palazzo_nuovo/sala_degli_imperatori/ritratto_di_nerone">neckbeard</a> New age rhetoric is only one facet of Johnson’s stage presence.</p>
<p>Is Johnson’s new age rhetoric successful? It certainly didn’t harm the Tories in the last election. “I really think he will lead the world into a new age” exclaimed one <a href="https://www.irishtimes.com/news/world/uk/johnson-s-triumph-he-will-lead-the-world-into-a-new-age-1.4114370">celebratory Londoner</a>. But any kind of highly dramatic rhetoric is vulnerable to parody: the philosopher Seneca wrote mockingly of the Emperor Claudius’s death as “the beginning of a most happy age”, turning official pronouncements on their head. </p>
<p>This is no less true today in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/picture/2019/dec/21/a-new-golden-age-for-boris-johnsons-brexit-cartoon">political commentary</a>. Whether we like it or not, Johnson has brought the UK to a new age: only time can tell if it will be golden or gilded.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/131535/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Susan Bilynskyj Dunning receives funding from the Gerda Henkel Stiftung and Canada's Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council. </span></em></p>
The British prime minister is fond of a common form of political rhetoric especially loved by the Romans: the promise of a ‘new age’.
Susan Bilynskyj Dunning, Fulford Junior Research Fellow, Somerville College, University of Oxford
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/109593
2019-03-06T13:53:46Z
2019-03-06T13:53:46Z
Socrates in love: how the ideas of this woman are at the root of Western philosophy
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262372/original/file-20190306-48423-spopun.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C23%2C1757%2C1894&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Aspasie_Pio-Clementino_Inv272.jpg#/media/File:Aspasie_Pio-Clementino_Inv272.jpg">Aspasia. Wikimedia Commons</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Where did Socrates, the foundational figure of Western philosophy, get the inspiration for his original ideas about truth, love, justice, courage and knowledge? <a href="http://www.armand-dangour.com/socrates-in-love/">New research</a> I’ve conducted reveals that as a young man in 5th-century BC Athens, he came into contact with a fiercely intelligent woman, Aspasia of Miletus. I argue that her ideas about love and transcendence inspired him to formulate key aspects of his thought (as transmitted by Plato). </p>
<p>If the evidence for this thesis is accepted, the history of philosophy will have taken a momentous turn: a woman who has been all but erased from the story must be acknowledged as laying the foundations of our 2,500-year old philosophical tradition.</p>
<p>A neoclassical painting by the 19th-century artist Nicolas Monsiau depicts Socrates sitting across a table from a lusciously dressed, gesticulating Aspasia. The handsome young soldier Alcibiades looks on. The image captures the <a href="https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/socrates/">standard view</a> of Socrates: as poor and ugly. The son of a stonemason, he was known from middle age for going unshod and wearing ragged clothes.</p>
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<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=495&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=622&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=622&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/260543/original/file-20190224-195886-19ldpa4.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=622&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Debate of Socrates and Aspasia, c. 1800.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Debate_Of_Socrates_And_Aspasia.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
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<p>But Socrates is also said by Plato to have been instructed in eloquence by Aspasia, who for more than a decade was the partner of Athens’s leading statesman Pericles. Supposedly a highly educated “courtesan”, Aspasia is shown in the painting enumerating the points of a speech on her fingers. Her gaze is directed at the aristocratic youth Alcibiades, who was Pericles’ ward and probably Aspasia’s great-nephew. Socrates claimed to be enthralled by Alcibiades’ good looks and charisma, and (as recounted in Plato’s dialogue Symposium) he saved his life at the Battle of Potidaea in 432 BC.</p>
<p>Does the painting do Socrates justice? His main biographers, Plato and Xenophon, knew him only as an older man. But Socrates was once young, and was a direct contemporary of Aspasia’s. And, from surviving images of the philosopher, occasional information given by his biographers, and ancient written texts which have been generally overlooked or misinterpreted, a different picture of Socrates emerges: that of a well-educated youth who grew up to be no less brave a soldier than Alcibiades, and a passionate lover of both sexes no less than a intense thinker and debater.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=378&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262373/original/file-20190306-48447-1eghqf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=475&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Socrates seeking Alcibiades in the house of Aspasia, Jean-Léon Gérôme, 1861.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:AspasiaAlcibiades.jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Diotima/Aspasia</h2>
<p>Socrates was famous for saying: “The only thing I know is that I don’t know.” But Plato, in <a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1600">Symposium</a> (199b), reports him as saying that he learned “the truth about love” from a clever woman. That woman is given the name “Diotima” – and in Symposium Socrates expounds her doctrine. </p>
<p>Scholars have almost universally dismissed Diotima as a fiction. She is described in the dialogue as a priestess or seer (<em>mantis</em>), and she is thought at best to be an allegorical figure – one of inspired or visionary wisdom who might have initiated a thinker such as Socrates into the mysteries of Love. But Plato leaves some curiously precise clues about the identity of Diotima which have never hitherto been elucidated. In my book I present the evidence to show that “Diotima” is in fact a thinly-veiled disguise for Aspasia.</p>
<p>Aspasia came from a high-born Athenian family, related to that of Pericles, which had settled in the Greek city of Miletus in Ionia (Asia Minor) some decades earlier. When she migrated to Athens around 450 BC she was around the age of 20. At that date Socrates too was around 20 years old.</p>
<p>A few years later, Aspasia became attached to Pericles, who was then a leading politician in Athens – and already twice her age. But a pupil of Aristotle, Clearchus, records that “before Aspasia became Pericles’ companion, she was with Socrates”. This fits with other evidence that Socrates was part of Pericles’s circle as a young man. He would undoubtedly have become acquainted with Aspasia in that milieu.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=535&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=535&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=535&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=673&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=673&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262374/original/file-20190306-48420-g8tgnm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=673&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Socrates, Pericles, Alcibiades, Aspasia in Discussion, unknown artist, 1810–25.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Drawing,_Socrates,_Pericles,_Alcibiades,_Aspasia_in_Discussion,_1810%E2%80%9325_(CH_18122823).jpg">Wikimedia Commons</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Given that he was part of this privileged elite in his youth, what impelled Socrates to turn to the life of the mind, shun material success and reorient philosophical thinking for posterity? No one has ever sought to trace the trajectory of the younger Socrates, because the biographical sources are scattered and fragmentary, and appear to say little of interest regarding his thought. But since Socrates was well known in Athens as a philosopher by his thirties, the earlier period is where we should seek evidence of his change of direction to becoming the thinker he was to be. I argue that Socrates’ acquaintance with Aspasia provides the missing link.</p>
<p>Aspasia was the cleverest and most influential woman of her day. The partner of Pericles for around 15 years, she was widely slandered and reviled by the comic playwrights - the tabloid journalists of their day - for her influence over him. Part of Pericles’s circle of thinkers, artists and politicians, she is depicted by Plato, Xenophon and others as an admired instructor of eloquence, as well as a matchmaker and marriage counsellor.</p>
<p>In Plato’s dialogue <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1682/1682-h/1682-h.htm">Menexenus</a> she is described as teaching Socrates how to give a funeral speech – just as she had allegedly once taught Pericles. She was, in other words, known for her skill in speaking and, like “Diotima”, in particular for speaking about love.</p>
<h2>Socrates in love?</h2>
<p>So. Could Socrates and Aspasia have fallen in love when they first met and conversed in their twenties? The fact that Plato accords Aspasia considerable intellectual authority over Socrates has alarmed generations of scholars, who have largely <a href="https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/review-of-politics/article/challenge-of-platos-menexenus/7F400D233DEF8E8C4D314FF099305F20">dismissed</a> the scenario in Menexenus as a parody of oratorical techniques. </p>
<p>Meanwhile, they have been happy to consider Aspasia a “<a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aspasia">brothel-keeper and prostitute</a>” on the strength of citations from comic poets of the day. At best, scholars have elevated Aspasia to the status of <em>hetaira</em> – a courtesan. But this appellation is not once given to her in ancient sources.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/262375/original/file-20190306-48429-yv5zx0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Socrates.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Socrates_Louvre.jpg">Sting, Wikimedia Commons</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>If we accept the evidence that Aspasia was, like “Diotima”, an authoritative instructor of eloquence and an expert on matters of love – rather than a common prostitute or even an influential courtesan – a striking possibility arises. The notions attributed in Symposium to “Diotima” are central to the philosophy as well as to the way of life that Socrates was to espouse. </p>
<p>The doctrine put in the mouth of “Diotima” teaches that the physical realm can and should be put aside in favour of higher ideals; that the education of the soul, not the gratification of the body, is love’s paramount duty; and that the particular should be subordinated to the general, the transient to the permanent, and the worldly to the ideal. </p>
<p>These ideas may be acknowledged as lying at the very root of the Western philosophical tradition. If so, identifying the fictional “Diotima” as the real Aspasia makes for a historically sensational conclusion. In retrospect, the identification is <a href="https://www.telegraph.co.uk/books/what-to-read/socratess-mistress-erased-history/">so obvious</a> that its failure to be seen clearly up to now must perhaps be attributed to conscious or unconscious prejudices about the status and intellectual capacities of women. </p>
<p>The time is ripe to restore the beautiful, dynamic and clever Aspasia to her true status as one of the founders of European philosophy.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/109593/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Socrates in Love: The Making of a Philosopher is published by Bloomsbury on March 7 2019.
</span></em></p>
A new look at ancient texts allows for a pivotal perspective on the role of a certain Greek woman.
Armand D'Angour, Associate Professor in Classics, University of Oxford
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/105331
2018-10-31T11:09:37Z
2018-10-31T11:09:37Z
Goop: a classicist’s take on the ‘power’ of ancient remedies
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243250/original/file-20181031-76393-1ma39f5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=678%2C56%2C4706%2C2801&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.shutterstock.com/image-photo/venice-italy-september-03-actress-gwyneth-203883430?src=ZjGd7KVlfk-TMvNI5kELTg-1-0">Andrea Raffin/Shutterstock.</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Lifestyle company Goop – founded and run by actor and businessperson Gwyneth Paltrow – <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-45426332">was fined</a> US$145,000 (£112,000) for making unscientific claims about products on its website: specifically, that its jade and rose quartz eggs, intended to be inserted vaginally, could help to balance hormones and regulate menstrual cycles.</p>
<p>In a recent interview with the BBC, Paltrow <a href="https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/av/entertainment-arts-45794662/gwyneth-paltrow-on-goop-we-disagree-with-pseudoscience-claims">defended the company</a>, saying: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>We really believe that there are healing modalities that have existed for thousands of years and they challenge … a very conventional Western doctor that might not believe, necessarily, in the healing powers of essential oils or any variety of acupuncture – things that have been tried and tested for hundreds of years.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This isn’t the first time Paltrow has invoked the power of ancient “healing modalities”. In 2015, Paltrow endorsed “steam douching” as a means of cleansing the uterus – a practice Professor Emerita in Classical Studies Helen King <a href="https://theconversation.com/floating-wombs-and-fumigation-why-gwyneth-paltrow-has-steam-douching-all-wrong-37006">traced back</a> to fifth century Greece (to be clear, gynaecologists <a href="https://drjengunter.wordpress.com/2015/01/27/gwyneth-paltrow-says-steam-your-vagina-an-obgyn-says-dont/">don’t recommend this</a>). </p>
<h2>Old habits</h2>
<p>The claim to be “ancient” taps into a belief – found throughout much of Western history since the Classical period – in natural sympathies: that certain objects (organic or otherwise) may be inherently imbued with beneficial properties that can be transferred to humans. </p>
<p>Of course, many ancient medicines are scientifically proven to be effective, and have been incorporated into modern pharmacology. For example, <a href="https://theconversation.com/opioid-epidemic-the-global-spread-explained-101649">opioids</a> – drugs naturally found in the opium poppy plant – were used medicinally as far back as the <a href="https://blog.sciencemuseum.org.uk/the-addictive-history-of-medicine-opium-the-ancient-drug-of-choice/">seventh century BC</a>. </p>
<p>But human beings have long regarded objects or practices with undue reverence, simply because they are old. My research as a classicist focuses on the magical practices of the Romans, many of which were born of a belief that they were effective because they had existed for a long time, or that other people or cultures – party to arcane knowledge – might have been onto something good. </p>
<p>In the third century AD, Romano-Egyptian religious and magical beliefs became popular in the Western provinces of the Roman Empire for just this reason. So we find objects such as the Welwyn Charm – a tiny haematite ring setting which is engraved with a variety of deities and symbols: the Egyptian goddesses Isis and Bes, a lioness, an Ouroboros (a snake eating its own tail; a symbol of eternity) and a nonsensical Greek palindrome (a word that reads the same forwards as backwards). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=372&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=372&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=372&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243212/original/file-20181031-76387-eh0r78.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=467&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A line drawing of the Welwyn charm.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.classics.ox.ac.uk/roman-inscriptions-britain">The Roman Inscriptions of Britain, Volume II.</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The original user didn’t necessarily need to be able to understand the text or the images to figure out how it was supposed to work (in this case, as a protection from uterine diseases). Belief in the power of the arcane knowledge invoked by this exotic talisman would have been an important factor in their decision to use it as a treatment. </p>
<h2>The long view</h2>
<p>Looking back, we can trace the passage of such ancient, esoteric knowledge across the ages. A first century AD writer, Dioscorides, wrote a text called <a href="https://www.wdl.org/en/item/10632/">De materia medica</a> (“On the medical materials”) in which he suggested that green stones could be used as an amulet to speed delivery in childbirth if strapped to the thigh. Perhaps a parallel for the Jade eggs sold by Goop? </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/243254/original/file-20181031-122162-1gxs0fs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A jade egg.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A contemporary of Dioscorides, Pliny the Elder was a Roman author, naturalist and philosopher, who died during the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. His work <a href="http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=plin.+nat.+toc">The Natural History</a> was strongly influenced by contemporary and earlier writers. In it, Pliny sought to categorise and explain all of the wonders of the natural world. He even devoted two books to the properties of stones.</p>
<p>These ideas were picked up in the work of later writers. Take, for example, the lapidary of Marbodius of Renne, a French bishop in the 11th and 12th centuries. A translation of part of his work goes as follows:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Ten and seven species of jasper are found, Differing in colour all the world round; Hither and thither over the earth, The green and translucent are the best in their birth; Worn chastely, fevers and pestilence fly, And women in childbirth are helped thereby.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>At this point, Marbodius was recounting knowledge of a medicinal use for a stone that was at least a thousand years old. This doesn’t take into account the mining and use of jade in China, which probably runs back several thousands of years. This long view offers a tantalising way for us to connect with our ancestors, via the thoughts we think and the behaviours we act out. </p>
<h2>A different approach</h2>
<p>Yet as a classicist, I find Paltrow’s approach to ancient rituals and medicines to be a warped application of our work. A classical scholar would read Dioscorides and immediately start analysing the wider picture of his writing; investigating whether the descriptions of medicinal methods matched up against other contemporary or earlier records; reviewing the archaeological evidence and questioning who he was writing for and why. </p>
<p>I do think it likely that the medical practitioners of the ancient world believed in the effectiveness of these healing practices. But I also think that there’s a meaningful difference between believing something because it’s the best information you have at the time, and believing something in spite of the best information you have at the time. </p>
<p>Taking Dioscorides’ advice as gospel would be a dangerous idea, in light of modern scientific research. Yet there remains a sceptical strand of Western culture, which would seek to return to a time when we had fewer answers. Historians and archaeologists have an old maxim, which we often rely on: “absence of evidence is not evidence of absence”. We accept that our sources are, admittedly, patchy at the best of times. But this is taken as a reason to try and get closer to the truth, in spite of our limitations.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/105331/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Adam Parker does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Tapping into ancient knowledge can help us feel connected to our ancestors – but that doesn’t mean we should take their advice.
Adam Parker, PhD Candidate in Classical Studies, The Open University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/104138
2018-10-02T20:05:41Z
2018-10-02T20:05:41Z
Rome: City + Empire contains wonderful objects but elides the bloody cost of imperialism
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238849/original/file-20181002-98878-8uv9il.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Coins from the Hoxne Treasure,
Hoxne, England, late 4th – early 5th century CE
silver
1994,0401.299.1-20
© Trustees of the British Museum
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>“What have the Romans ever done for us?” <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7tvauOJMHo">asks Reg from the People’s Front of Judaea</a> in Monty Python’s comedy classic, Life of Brian. <a href="http://www.nma.gov.au/exhibitions/rome-city-and-empire">Rome: City + Empire</a>, now showing at the National Museum of Australia, offers visitors a clear answer: they brought civilization.</p>
<p>This collection of more than 200 objects from the British Museum presents a vision of a vast Roman empire, conquered by emperors and soldiers, who brought with them wealth and luxury. Quotations from ancient authors extolling the virtues of Rome and the rewards of conquest stare down from the walls. This is an exhibition of which the Romans themselves would have been proud.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=735&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=735&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=735&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238853/original/file-20181002-98869-1red138.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=924&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Portrait head resembling Cleopatra.
Italy, 50–30 BCE
limestone
1879,0712.15
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Indeed, the major issue is that the displays present a largely uncritical narrative of Roman imperialism. One section, called “Military Might,” features a statue of the emperor Hadrian in armour, a defeated Dacian, and a bronze diploma attesting to the rewards of service in the Roman army. An explanatory panel informs us that resistors were “treated harshly” while those “who readily accepted Roman domination, benefited”. This is especially troubling to read in an Australian context.</p>
<p>The exhibition is beautifully laid out, with highly effective use of lighting and colour to emphasise the different themes: “The Rise of Rome”, “Military Might”, “The Eternal City”, “Peoples of the Empire” and “In Memoriam”. And it boasts impressive busts and statues of emperors, imperial women, priests and priestesses, gods and goddesses, most displayed in the open, rather than behind glass. This allows visitors to view them up close from many angles.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=1172&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1473&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1473&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238850/original/file-20181002-98887-1rb07wt.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1473&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mummy portrait of a woman.
Rubaiyat, Egypt, 160–170 CE
encaustic on limewood
1939,0324.211
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The use of imagery is one of the exhibition’s greatest strengths. Close-ups of coins and other small artefacts are projected against the wall, while enlarged 18th-century Piranesi prints of famous monuments such as the Pantheon provide a stunning backdrop.</p>
<p>There are some excellent curatorial choices. The number of images of women is commendable, enabling the exhibition to move beyond emperors, soldiers and magistrates to emphasise women as an intrinsic part of the life of Rome.</p>
<p>Stories of key monuments, such as the Colosseum, the Baths of Caracalla, and the Pantheon, are accompanied by busts of the emperors who built them as well as associated everyday objects such as theatre tickets and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Strigil">strigils</a>. However, there is no map of the city of Rome to allow visitors to place these buildings in context. And the evidence for the true cost of Roman conquest is not sufficiently highlighted. </p>
<h2>Where are the slaves?</h2>
<p>Coins show emperors subduing prostrate peoples, including one featuring Judaea, where Vespasian and Titus cruelly crushed a revolt between 66-73 CE. The accompanying plaque refers obliquely to Roman “acts of oppression”, but one has to turn to the exhibition catalogue to find the true list of horrors, including the thousands enslaved and the sacking of the Temple of Jerusalem. Nor is there any mention that the construction of the Colosseum, profiled just a few feet away in the exhibition, was funded by the spoils of the Jewish War.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=505&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238852/original/file-20181002-98899-m35btj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=635&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Relief showing two female gladiators.
Halicarnassus (modern Bodrum), Turkey, 1st–2nd century CE
marble
1847,0424.19
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The walls are covered with quotations extolling the Romans’ own imperialistic vision. “The divine right to conquer is yours”, a line from Virgil’s Aeneid, greets visitors at the start. Even more troubling is a quotation from Pliny the Elder which looms over the “Peoples of the Empire” section:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Besides, who does not agree that life has improved now the world is united under the splendour of the Roman Empire.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=806&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238854/original/file-20181002-98887-zhe3i6.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1013&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Toothpick from the Hoxne Treasure.
Hoxne, England, late 4th – early 5th century CE
silver and niello with gold gilding
1994,0408.146
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This section is full of objects displaying the luxurious lifestyle of provincial elites under Roman rule, from the stunning decorated spoons and bracelets of the British <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hoxne_Hoard">Hoxne treasure</a> to beautiful funerary reliefs of rich Palmyrenes. The exhibition trumpets the “diversity” of Rome’s peoples, but this curious set of objects does not tell any coherent story beyond the comfortable lives of the privileged.</p>
<p>Slavery – the most horrifying aspect of Roman society – is all but absent. There are incidental references (a gladiator given his freedom, the funerary urn of a former slave), but they are presented with little context. Scholars have estimated that slaves composed at least 10 per cent of the empire’s total population of 60 million. They undertook domestic and agricultural labour, educated children, and served in the imperial household. Their stories remain largely untold.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/mythbusting-ancient-rome-cruel-and-unusual-punishment-87939">Mythbusting Ancient Rome: cruel and unusual punishment</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Alternative narratives</h2>
<p>The absence of any counterpoint to the Romans’ story in this exhibition is all the more surprising given that the catalogue contains an essay from the NMA that does show awareness of these problems. Curators Lily Withycombe and Mathew Trinca explore how the narrative of Roman conquest influenced imperial expansion in the modern age, including the colonisation of Australia. </p>
<p>Particularly revealing is their statement: “While the Classics may have once been in the service of British ideas of empire, they are now more likely to be taught using a critical postcolonial lens.” Yet this nuance does not make it into the exhibition itself.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=494&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238851/original/file-20181002-98902-1pjog17.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=621&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ring with sealstone depicting Mark Antony
probably Italy, 40–30 BCE.
gold and jasper
1867,0507.724
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A very different narrative about the Roman world could have been presented. Even in their own time, Roman commentators were aware of the darker side of imperialism. In his account of the influx of Roman habits and luxuries into Britain, the historian Tacitus remarked:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The Britons, who had no experience of this, called it ‘civilization’, although it was a part of their enslavement. (<a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/agricola-and-germany-9780199539260?cc=au&lang=en&">Agricola</a> 21, trans. A. R. Birley).</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The colossal head of the empress Faustina the Elder from a temple in Sardis is a spectacular object, but its overwhelming size should remind us of the asymmetrical power dynamics of Roman rule. Emperors and their family members were meant to be figures of awe to peoples of the empire, to be feared like gods. Tacitus memorably described the imperial cult temple at Colchester in Britain as a “fortress of eternal domination”.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-virgils-aeneid-85459">Guide to the Classics: Virgil’s Aeneid</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The Rome of the exhibition is a curiously timeless world. The grant of Roman citizenship to all free inhabitants of the empire in 212 CE goes unmentioned, and the coming of Christianity is presented almost as an afterthought.</p>
<p>There are some spectacular items from the vibrant world of Late Antiquity (3rd-7th centuries CE), such as the gold glass displaying Peter and Paul and parts of the Esquiline treasure. But this section is marred by factual errors and it misses the opportunity to explore the dynamics of fundamental religious and cultural change.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=434&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/238848/original/file-20181002-98872-1l1pmci.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Horse-trappings from the Esquiline Treasure.
Rome, Italy, 4th century CE
silver and gold gilding
1866,1229.26
© Trustees of the British Museum</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">© Trustees of the British Museum, 2018. All rights reserved</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Rome: City + Empire is a wonderful collection of objects, displayed in an engaging manner, which will be of interest to all Australians. The exhibition is likely to be a hit with children – there is a playful audio-guide specifically for kids and many hands-on experiences dotted throughout: from the chance to electronically “colour-in” the funerary relief of a Palmyrene woman on a digital screen, to feeling a Roman coin or picking up a soldier’s dagger. </p>
<p>But visitors should be aware that it presents a distinctly old-fashioned tale of Rome’s rise and expansion, which is out of step with contemporary scholarly thinking. The benefits of empire came at a bloody cost.</p>
<p><em>Rome: City + Empire is at the <a href="http://www.nma.gov.au/exhibitions/rome-city-and-empire">National Museum of Australia</a> until 3 February 2019.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/104138/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Caillan Davenport receives funding from the Australian Research Council. He has written for the NMA magazine, The Museum.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Meaghan McEvoy does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
A major exhibition of treasures from ancient Rome presents a distinctly old-fashioned tale of the empire’s rise and expansion, which is out of step with contemporary scholarly thinking.
Caillan Davenport, Senior Lecturer in Roman History, Macquarie University
Meaghan McEvoy, Associate Lecturer in Byzantine Studies, Macquarie University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/94362
2018-04-19T21:43:57Z
2018-04-19T21:43:57Z
We brewed an ancient Graeco-Roman beer and here’s how it tastes
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/215282/original/file-20180417-163982-u7h74c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Barn Hammer Brewing Company Head Brewer Brian Westcott, Matt Gibbs of the University of Winnipeg and Barn Hammer owner Tyler Birch teamed up to re-create an ancient beer.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/David Lipnowski</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Beer is the most consumed alcoholic beverage in the world; <a href="http://besttoppers.com/top-10-widely-consumed-drinks/">it is also the most popular drink after water and tea</a>. In the modern world, however, little consideration is typically given to how beer developed with respect to taste. Even less is given to why beer is thought of in the way that it is. </p>
<p>But today, Canada is in the middle of a beer renaissance. A relative <a href="https://theconversation.com/why-canadas-craft-beer-explosion-isnt-leading-to-big-acquisitions-93888">explosion of craft breweries</a> has led to a renewed interest in different methods of brewing and in different types of beer recipes. </p>
<p>In turn, this has driven interest into historical methods of brewing. It is a rather romantic idea: That very old brewing processes are somehow superior to those of the modern world. While almost all of the beer on the market today is quantitatively and qualitatively better than that produced in the ancient world, attempts made by both historians and breweries recently have had some good results. </p>
<p>For example, <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-beer-archaeologist-17016372/">the collaboration between University of Pennsylvania archaeologist Patrick McGovern and Dogfish Head Brewery</a> that resulted in their <a href="https://www.dogfish.com/brewery/beer/midas-touch">“Midas Touch”,</a> based on the <a href="https://www.penn.museum/sites/biomoleculararchaeology/?page_id=143">sediment found in vessels discovered in the Tomb of Midas in central Turkey</a>, and the <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/thunder-bay/ancient-beers-sleeping-giant-lakehead-1.4559602">Sleepy Giant Brewing Company’s ancient beers created as part of Lakehead University’s Research and Innovation Week</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215283/original/file-20180417-163978-i0jbjr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Beer made an old-fashioned way is shown at Barn Hammer Brewing Company in Winnipeg in March 2018.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">THE CANADIAN PRESS/David Lipnowski</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Why re-create ancient beer and mead?</h2>
<p>From an academic point of view, researchers have realized eating and drinking are important social, economic and even political activities. In the ancient world, food, drink and their consumption were important indicators of culture, ethnicity and class. Romans were set apart from non-Romans in several ways: Those living in cities versus those who didn’t, those who farmed in one place versus those who moved around, and so on. </p>
<p>One of the other ways in which this distinction was made was in the different foods people ate and in the liquids they drank. This is clear in the ancient Graeco-Roman debate surrounding those who drank wine and those who drank beer. </p>
<p>Although the saying “you are what you eat” is a fact in terms of physiology, the Romans also believed that “you are what you drink.” So Romans drank wine, non-Romans drank beer. </p>
<p>These indicators (real or not) even exist today: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d27gTrPPAyk">The English drink tea, Americans drink coffee</a>; Canadians drink rye, the Scottish drink scotch. </p>
<p>So the re-creation of ancient beer and mead (an alcoholic beverage made by fermenting honey and other liquids) allows us to examine many things. Among them are these cultural and ethnic considerations, but there are other important and interesting questions that can be answered. How has the brewing process transformed? How have our palates changed? </p>
<h2>The “Roman” recipes and their recreation</h2>
<p>The Romans left us a variety of different recipes for food and drink. Two of them form the basis of an ongoing research project between the co-owners of <a href="http://barnhammerbrewing.ca/">Barn Hammer Brewing Company</a> — Tyler Birch and Brian Westcott — and myself that attempts to answer some of these questions. </p>
<p>The first is a recipe for beer that dates to the fourth century Common Era (CE). It appears in the work of Zosimus, an alchemist, who lived in Panopolis, Egypt, when it was part of the Roman empire. The second is a recipe for a mead probably from Italy and dating to the first century CE, written by a Roman senator called Columella. </p>
<p>Both recipes are quite clear concerning ingredients, with the exception of yeast. Yeast, or more appropriately a yeast culture, was often made from dough saved from a day’s baking. Alternatively, one could simply leave mixtures out in the open. But the processes and measurements in them are more difficult to recreate. </p>
<p>The brewing of the beer, for instance, required the use of barley bread made with a sourdough culture: Basically a lump of sourdough bread left uncovered. To keep the culture alive while being baked required a long, slow baking process at a low temperature for 18 hours. </p>
<p>Zosimus never specified how much water or bread was needed for a single batch; this was left open to the brewers’ interpretation. A mix of three parts water to one part bread was brewed and left to ferment for nearly three weeks.</p>
<p>The brewing of the mead was a much easier process. Closely following Columella’s recipe, we mixed honey and <a href="https://www.winefrog.com/definition/144/must">wine must</a>. The recipe in this case provided some measurements, and from there we were able to extrapolate a workable mix of roughly three parts must to one part honey. </p>
<p>We then added wine yeast and sealed the containers. These were placed in Barn Hammer’s furnace room for 31 days in an attempt to imitate the conditions of a Roman loft. </p>
<h2>What did we learn?</h2>
<p>First of all, it’s worth noting that the principles of brewing have not changed significantly; fundamentally, the process of brewing both beer and mead is arguably the same now as it was 2,000 years ago. But as true as that may be, even now the production of Zosimus’ beer — particularly the baking of the bread — was labour-intensive. </p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/215291/original/file-20180417-163986-12zmoze.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Mead decanting.</span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This led to another question: Did the link between baking and brewing depicted so clearly in ancient Egyptian <a href="https://www.metmuseum.org/art/collection/search/544258">material culture</a> and <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/news/science/archaeology/egypt-beer-making-ancient-brewery-archaeologists-a8201471.html">archaeology</a> persist even centuries later? </p>
<p>Second, we recreated beer and mead from the Roman Empire as faithfully as we were able. The data all suggest that the beer is a beer, and the mead is a mead, right down to the pH level: The beer, for instance, stands at pH 4.3 which is what one would expect from a beer after fermentation.</p>
<p>Third, as the photos here make clear, the mead looked like red wine, the beer was quite pale but cloudy. Neither case was particularly surprising, but what was interesting was the difference between the first tasting of the beer and the second 10 days later. </p>
<p>In the former, the beer looked liked a sourdough milkshake; in the latter, the beer looked like a pale craft ale, and one that would not be out of place in the modern craft beer market. </p>
<p>Fourth, with respect to taste, the beer was sour but quite smooth, and had a relatively low ABV - Alcohol By Volume: the measurement that tells you what percentage of beer or mead is alcohol — around three to four per cent. The sour taste resulted in diverse opinions: Some people liked it; others hated it. The mead was incredibly sweet; it smelled like a fortified wine due to presence of <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/agricultural-and-biological-sciences/fusel-alcohol">Fusel alcohols</a>, and had an ABV upwards of 12 per cent. </p>
<p>While general tastes may have changed, there are modern palates that appreciate ancient beer and mead. Is this a physiological question? Perhaps, but what seems clear is that ancient indicators based on what people drank are likely more indicative not only of the Romans’ beliefs and opinions about non-Romans, but also their prejudices against them.</p>
<p>Ultimately, what the project suggests so far is that while the brewing process may not have changed that much, in some ways neither have we.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/94362/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Matt Gibbs does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Beer is the most consumed beverages in the world with a long history. What does the ancient art of brewing tell us about culture and tastes?
Matt Gibbs, Associate Professor and Department Chair of Classics, University of Winnipeg
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/94285
2018-04-05T01:59:28Z
2018-04-05T01:59:28Z
Mary Beard and the long tradition of women being told to shut up
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213318/original/file-20180405-189827-9hdw7c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Penelope and the Suitors, by J.W. Waterhouse (1912).</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Professor Mary Beard’s latest book <a href="https://profilebooks.com/women-and-power.html">Women & Power: A Manifesto</a> is a short, sharp analysis of women in the West and their ongoing struggles for a voice in the public domain. Based on two lectures delivered in 2014 and 2017, Beard chronicles some of the major obstacles women continue to face, framing her analysis through the lens of the legacies of ancient Greece and Rome.</p>
<p>In her first essay, Beard provides some examples from antiquity to illustrate the social and gender dynamics inherited in the West. In short, she traces the long heritage of women being told to shut up.</p>
<figure class="align-right ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=973&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=973&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=973&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1222&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1222&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/212891/original/file-20180403-189795-mgkddk.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1222&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Beard’s first example is <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Penelope-Greek-mythology">Penelope</a>. A main character in Homer’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-homers-odyssey-82911">Odyssey</a>, Penelope is the faithful wife of the epic’s eponymous hero <a href="https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Heroes/Odysseus/odysseus.html">Odysseus</a>. A hero of the Trojan War, Odysseus spends 10 years at Troy and then another 10 years trying to return to his home in Ithaca, where Penelope and their adolescent son <a href="https://www.greekmythology.com/Myths/Mortals/Telemachus/telemachus.html">Telemachus</a> wait.</p>
<p>In a scene from Odyssey Book One, Penelope enters the communal (read male) space of her husband’s palace and complains about a song that is being performed by one of the entertainers. Telemachus immediately orders her to return to her chambers and resume women’s work. He further reminds her that stories are the preserve of men. Men engage in public discourse. Women face exclusion from it.</p>
<p>This is not the only example of silencing women in the Homeric epics. In Book One of the <a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-homers-iliad-80968">Iliad</a>, thought to be composed at least a generation earlier than the Odyssey, Zeus is confronted by his wife Hera who challenges him on a matter concerning the course of the Trojan War. In an assertion of his divine authority, Zeus demands Hera’s silence and threatens her with violence if she persists in opposing him.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-homers-odyssey-82911">Guide to the Classics: Homer's Odyssey</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>In both instances, the message is clear. As Beard observes, “right where written evidence for Western culture starts, women’s voices are not being heard in the public sphere”. On Telemachus telling his mum to “zip it”, Beard points out that “as Homer has it, an integral part of growing up, as a man, is learning to take control of public utterance and to silence the female of the species”.</p>
<p>It may seem incredible that some 2,500 years since the Homeric epics, women are still silenced in public. But the myths of Archaic Greece continue to maintain relevance to modern reality. Even when women occupy a public platform, they are regularly met with verbal and written ripostes.</p>
<h2>We’re still being silenced</h2>
<p>In 2017, Tony Abbott told Ray Hadley on 2GB that Australia’s Sex Discrimination Commissioner Kate Jenkins should “<a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/news/sex-discrimination-commissioner-hits-back-over-draconian-gender-measures-report">pull her head in”</a> after her organisation recommended that Commonwealth Government contractors aim for at least 40% of female employees as part of a strategy to address workplace gender imbalance. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213042/original/file-20180404-189824-r42amx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Tony Abbott in 2017.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lukas Coch/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>“Pull your head in” means, essentially, shut up and mind your own business. Abbott’s reprimand mirrors Telemachus’ command to Penelope to pull her head in and retreat to the private (female) sphere.</p>
<p>In Scotland, meanwhile, in 2016, then UK Independence Party leadership candidate, Raheem Kassam, <a href="https://www.independent.co.uk/voices/ukip-raheem-kassam-destroying-ukip-a7388026.html">tweeted</a> about the First Minister, Nicola Sturgeon: ‘Can someone just, like … tape Nicola Sturgeon’s mouth shut? And her legs, so she can’t reproduce’. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=887&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1115&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1115&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/213043/original/file-20180404-189810-1ja9lnr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1115&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Nicola Sturgeon in 2018.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Will Oliver/EPA</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In Canada, in the same year, MP Michelle Rempel <a href="http://nationalpost.com/opinion/michelle-rempel-confront-your-sexism">described</a> how a male parliamentary colleague had once asked that she refrain from speaking until she was “less emotional”.</p>
<p>Beard also recounts the myths of Ovid’s <a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-ovids-metamorphoses-and-reading-rape-65316">Metamorphoses</a>, including the tales of <a href="http://www.theoi.com/Heroine/Io.html">Io</a> “turned by the god Jupiter into a cow, so she can cannot talk but only moo”, “the chatty nymph” <a href="https://www.greekmythology.com/Other_Gods/Minor_Gods/Echo/echo.html">Echo</a> “punished so that her voice is never her own, merely an instrument for repeating the words of others” and <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/Tereus#ref97077">Philomela</a>, who is raped and silenced by her violator, who cuts out her tongue after she tries to scream out the crime. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/guide-to-the-classics-ovids-metamorphoses-and-reading-rape-65316">Guide to the classics: Ovid's Metamorphoses and reading rape</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>These may seem like frivolous tales of make-believe. But like all myths, legends and fairy tales, they contain subtle layers of meaning both for the ancients who invented them and for those today who experience their content in new forms. </p>
<p>Beard, no stranger to virtual threats similar to those meted out to Philomela, has opened a public space for women to name and to challenge their silencing. By detailing examples from the past to illuminate the present, she has shown us how far women in the West have come. But compellingly, she has also shown us how close we are at times to the ancient Greeks and Romans.</p>
<p>Women & Power’s most important contribution to the current advances and failures of feminism in the West is its encouragement of contemplation and understanding. To reflect on the silencing of women addresses urgent feminist issues of the 21st century, including the low number of cases of domestic violence, sexual harassment and assault that are reported to authorities, the opposition to the public voice of the <a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/lifestyles/ct-me-too-timeline-20171208-htmlstory.html">#MeToo</a> movement and the vileness of trolling. </p>
<p>Beard reminds us that women need to claim the public space and speak. To scream, yell and rewrite the script we have been assigned to deliver since the mythical age of Penelope.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/94285/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marguerite Johnson does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
It may seem incredible that some 2,500 years since the Homeric epics, women are still silenced in public. But the myths of Archaic Greece resonate today in disturbing ways.
Marguerite Johnson, Professor of Classics, University of Newcastle
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/90935
2018-02-08T18:12:20Z
2018-02-08T18:12:20Z
Essays On Air: Why grown-ups still need fairy tales
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/203934/original/file-20180130-170419-1952mqf.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Fairy tales are extremely moral in their demarcation between good and evil, right and wrong. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Marcella Cheng/The Conversation NY-BD-CC</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Originally for adults, many fairy tales can be brutal, violent, sexual and laden with taboo. When the earliest recorded versions were made by collectors such as the Brothers Grimm, the adult content was maintained. But as time progressed, the tales became diluted, child-friendly and more benign.</p>
<p>Adults consciously and unconsciously continue to tell them today, despite advances in logic, science and technology. It’s as if there is something ingrained in us – something we cannot suppress – that compels us to interpret the world around us through the lens of such tales.</p>
<p>That’s what we’re exploring on the latest episode of Essays On Air, the audio version of our <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/friday-essay-22955">Friday essay</a> series. Today, Marguerite Johnson, Professor of Classics at the University of Newcastle, is reading her essay <a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-why-grown-ups-still-need-fairy-tales-87078">Why grown-ups still need fairy tales</a>.</p>
<p>Join us as we read to you here at Essays On Air, a podcast from The Conversation.</p>
<p>Find us and subscribe in <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/essays-on-air/id1333743838?mt=2">Apple Podcasts</a>, in <a href="https://play.pocketcasts.com/">Pocket Casts</a> or wherever you get your podcasts.</p>
<h2>Additional audio</h2>
<p>Snow by <a href="http://freemusicarchive.org/music/David_Szesztay/Cinematic/Snow">David Szesztay</a></p>
<p>Mourning Song by <a href="http://freemusicarchive.org/music/Kevin_MacLeod/Classical_Sampler/Mourning_Song">Kevin MacLeod</a></p>
<p>Jack and the Beanstalk by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v1hLr5oeUog">UB Iwerks</a></p>
<p>Cinderella (1950), produced by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=urGE_tcx9JA">Walt Disney</a></p>
<p>Candle in the Wind/Goodbye England’s Rose by <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dg_MIysNGIU">Elton John</a></p>
<p>P. I. Tchaikovsky: Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy, performed by <a href="http://freemusicarchive.org/music/Kevin_MacLeod/">Kevin MacLeod</a> from Free Music Archive. </p>
<p><em>This episode was recorded by Eddie O'Reilly and edited by Jenni Henderson. Illustration by Marcella Cheng.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/90935/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
We consciously and unconsciously tell fairy tales today, despite advances in logic and science. It’s as if there is something ingrained in us that compels us to see the world through this lens.
Sunanda Creagh, Senior Editor
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.