Sunday, September 30, 2012
"Chicks" revisited
It is with sadness that I note...
That the syllabus requires us to leap ahead in the text-- Tuesday's assignment is 65-68. We leave our friends contemplating ticks and lice in 57/58 and meet up with them again in 65, in which we find dogs, Trimalchio giving a slave a piggy-back ride, and the entrance of Habinnas, the guest of honor. Alas, what we pass over in Latin (but read carefully in English) are some of the best bits of the Cena: the squirting pastry Priapus, Niceros's werewolf story, and Trimalchio's story about the witches and the changeling boy. Note, too, the description of his deliciae, Croesus, in 64. Many of these stories play on the themes of truth/ fiction, inside/ outside, human/inhuman, mortal/immortal.
Who forgot the oil?
There is one thing throughout the Cena that has struck me as consistently being odd whether I've just missed it or it is entire absent. There is no olive oil. This foodstuff, and basic commodity, was highly prized in the Roman world and was so prevalent that perhaps Petronius felt no need to discuss the substance. The Romans used olive oil for nearly everything including food, light, bathing, moisturizing and even household maintenance. Olives, which are mentioned, and olive oil were produced in much of the Mediterranean world with the primary producers in the Imperial Period being Baetica (southern Spain) which was replaced in the 2nd century A.D. by North Africa (modern Tunisia and Morocco) although oil was still produced in surpluses throughout Greece and Italy.
I feel that it is one aspect of Trimalchio's boasting where he really slipped up, so to speak. He brings out Falernian wine, which has been recently discussed luckily, and boasts about its quality and how he only serves the best to his convivae. But why not boast about having olive oil from some exotic place or some especially expensive type? Or that he brought olive trees from Spain or North Africa as he did with Attic bees; although it would be about as effective. Maybe it is my own bias, having spent the last 4 years researching the olive oil industry of Baetica (which was inarguably the most popular in the Early Imperial Period) but I feel that Petronius' omission of this staple of the Roman diet and life is just plain odd. It is really a shame that Trimalchio doesn't mention oil, and where he got it from, since it would help to narrow down the dating for the Satyricon based on who was the dominant producer (or not producing anymore) at the time.
I feel that it is one aspect of Trimalchio's boasting where he really slipped up, so to speak. He brings out Falernian wine, which has been recently discussed luckily, and boasts about its quality and how he only serves the best to his convivae. But why not boast about having olive oil from some exotic place or some especially expensive type? Or that he brought olive trees from Spain or North Africa as he did with Attic bees; although it would be about as effective. Maybe it is my own bias, having spent the last 4 years researching the olive oil industry of Baetica (which was inarguably the most popular in the Early Imperial Period) but I feel that Petronius' omission of this staple of the Roman diet and life is just plain odd. It is really a shame that Trimalchio doesn't mention oil, and where he got it from, since it would help to narrow down the dating for the Satyricon based on who was the dominant producer (or not producing anymore) at the time.
Whats the big deal with Falernian Wine?
So, in all of these texts, the big deal in drinks is Falernian wine. But what makes it so special? I started doing a little bit of research.
Falernian wine is made from the Aminean grape, which was known as "a producer of exceedingly good wine." Its grapes were grown on the lowest slopes and came from Greek colonists who settled near the Bay of Naples. Falernian wine was supposed to be full-bodied with an alcohol content of fifteen or sixteen percent (no wonder it was a favorite at dinner parties). Although, this wine had such a high alcohol content, Romans always diluted it with water, because wine that was undiluted was "considered the habit of provincials and barbarians." We see this wine in the Satyricon and Pliny talks about it 200 years later.
If anyone else is interested in this, here is one of the websites I was looking at...
http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/wine/wine.html
---------------
Thanks very much, Allison! Here is more on this topic, from the (not always) sober British journal, The Economist:
In Roman times, it was universally agreed that the finest wine was that of the Falernian region near Naples. In fact, in a foreshadowing of the French appellation regulations, there were three types of Falernian wine. Caucinian Falernian originated from vineyards on the highest slopes of Mount Falernus; Faustian Falernian came from vineyards on the central slopes; and wine from the lower slopes was known simply as Falernian.
Perhaps surprisingly, given modern tastes, the most prized Falernian was a white wine. Roman sources indicate that the grapes were picked fairly late, resulting in a heavy, sweet wine that was golden in colour and could be aged for decades. The nearest contemporary equivalents would appear to be long-aged sauternes wines, such as Chateau d'Yquem. But Falernian would have tasted very different, for a number of reasons. For a start, it was allowed to maderise, which caused it to turn amber or brown. A modern drinker presented with a glass of Roman wine might also notice that its taste was affected by the pitch or resin that was used to make impermeable the earthenware jars in which the wine was stored.
But the most dramatic difference between Roman and modern wine is that the Romans never drank wine on its own; they always mixed it with other ingredients. Indeed, the practice of drinking wine straight was regarded as barbaric. Most often, wine was simply diluted. The amount of water added depended on the circumstances (it was up to the host to decide) and the temperature, but the proportions were typically one part wine to three parts water. Diluting wine served two purposes: it made it into a thirst-quenching drink that could be consumed in large quantities, and the presence of alcohol also made the water safe to drink, an important consideration in the growing cities of the Roman Empire, as it still was in 18th-century Europe.
On occasion, wine was also diluted with seawater. According to Pliny
the Elder, one of several Roman authorities on wine, this was done “to
enliven the wine's smoothness”. But water was not the only additive.
Snow was sometimes mixed with wine to cool it; honey was sometimes added
to create an aperitif known as mulsum; and various herbs and
spices were commonly added to wine to mask the fact that it had turned
to vinegar. Keeping wine in good condition was difficult in Roman times,
so most wine was drunk within a year of production; “old” wine was
categorised as wine more than a year old.
As a wine-lover, Galen must have relished the prospect of searching the imperial cellars for the finest Falernian. He started with 20-year-old Falernian and then tasted earlier and earlier vintages. “I kept on until I found a wine without a trace of bitterness. An ancient wine which has not lost its sweetness is the best of all.” Eventually, Galen settled on a Faustian Falernian as the finest wine in existence. Alas, he did not record the year. Earlier in the Roman period, the general consensus had been that the Falernian of 121BC was the best vintage; according to Pliny, this wine was still being drunk 160 years later, when it was offered to Caligula. So it seems likely that Galen would have had Falernian vintages as much as 200 years old available during his tasting session.
Falernian wine is made from the Aminean grape, which was known as "a producer of exceedingly good wine." Its grapes were grown on the lowest slopes and came from Greek colonists who settled near the Bay of Naples. Falernian wine was supposed to be full-bodied with an alcohol content of fifteen or sixteen percent (no wonder it was a favorite at dinner parties). Although, this wine had such a high alcohol content, Romans always diluted it with water, because wine that was undiluted was "considered the habit of provincials and barbarians." We see this wine in the Satyricon and Pliny talks about it 200 years later.
If anyone else is interested in this, here is one of the websites I was looking at...
http://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/wine/wine.html
---------------
Thanks very much, Allison! Here is more on this topic, from the (not always) sober British journal, The Economist:
The history of drinking
Uncorking the past
Recreating old drinks provides an enjoyable form of time-travelling
Dec 20th 2001 | from the print edition
Galen's wine: Rome, c. 170AD
Some time towards the end of the second century AD, Galen of Pergamum, physician to the emperor Marcus Aurelius, descended into the Palatine cellars in Rome and conducted what must be regarded as one of the greatest vertical wine-tastings in history. Before his appointment as imperial physician, Galen had been a doctor at a gladiatorial school, where he had learned of the medical value of wine to disinfect wounds. Galen also believed that wine was an extremely potent medicine. So when it came to preparing a theriac, or medicinal potion for the emperor, Galen decided that it should be based on the finest wine in the world. “Since all that is best from every part of the earth finds its way to the great ones of the earth,” he wrote, “from their excellence must be chosen the very best for the greatest of them all.” He duly headed for the cellars.In Roman times, it was universally agreed that the finest wine was that of the Falernian region near Naples. In fact, in a foreshadowing of the French appellation regulations, there were three types of Falernian wine. Caucinian Falernian originated from vineyards on the highest slopes of Mount Falernus; Faustian Falernian came from vineyards on the central slopes; and wine from the lower slopes was known simply as Falernian.
Perhaps surprisingly, given modern tastes, the most prized Falernian was a white wine. Roman sources indicate that the grapes were picked fairly late, resulting in a heavy, sweet wine that was golden in colour and could be aged for decades. The nearest contemporary equivalents would appear to be long-aged sauternes wines, such as Chateau d'Yquem. But Falernian would have tasted very different, for a number of reasons. For a start, it was allowed to maderise, which caused it to turn amber or brown. A modern drinker presented with a glass of Roman wine might also notice that its taste was affected by the pitch or resin that was used to make impermeable the earthenware jars in which the wine was stored.
But the most dramatic difference between Roman and modern wine is that the Romans never drank wine on its own; they always mixed it with other ingredients. Indeed, the practice of drinking wine straight was regarded as barbaric. Most often, wine was simply diluted. The amount of water added depended on the circumstances (it was up to the host to decide) and the temperature, but the proportions were typically one part wine to three parts water. Diluting wine served two purposes: it made it into a thirst-quenching drink that could be consumed in large quantities, and the presence of alcohol also made the water safe to drink, an important consideration in the growing cities of the Roman Empire, as it still was in 18th-century Europe.
As a wine-lover, Galen must have relished the prospect of searching the imperial cellars for the finest Falernian. He started with 20-year-old Falernian and then tasted earlier and earlier vintages. “I kept on until I found a wine without a trace of bitterness. An ancient wine which has not lost its sweetness is the best of all.” Eventually, Galen settled on a Faustian Falernian as the finest wine in existence. Alas, he did not record the year. Earlier in the Roman period, the general consensus had been that the Falernian of 121BC was the best vintage; according to Pliny, this wine was still being drunk 160 years later, when it was offered to Caligula. So it seems likely that Galen would have had Falernian vintages as much as 200 years old available during his tasting session.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Medicus
Trimalchio was right about how doctors had to know what waas going on with people, what they had in their chests, and so on. However, doctors were looked down upon in Roman society because the profession was considered worthy of slaves (http://www.unrv.com/culture/ancient-roman-doctors.php), which is obviously a clear difference between Roman and American society.
Apparently, being a doctor in the ancient world required a much more well-rounded training than today. While modern doctors have to be familiar with human anatomy, behavioral problems, prescribing medicine, and various medical techniques, ancient doctors had to know how to use their instruments, what herbs cured what, and had to have some training in ritual (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medicine_in_ancient_Rome).
The hypocrisy of having someone save your life and then you look down on them due to their socio-economic status made me think of two things. First, I noticed a parallel between medieval and Renaissance midwives being praised by mothers whom they helpe while they were in labor and then calling them witches in private. Second, this reminded me of James' Dave Chappelle post: maybe we shouldn't judge people by their accents and socioeconomic status after all.
Apparently, being a doctor in the ancient world required a much more well-rounded training than today. While modern doctors have to be familiar with human anatomy, behavioral problems, prescribing medicine, and various medical techniques, ancient doctors had to know how to use their instruments, what herbs cured what, and had to have some training in ritual (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medicine_in_ancient_Rome).
The hypocrisy of having someone save your life and then you look down on them due to their socio-economic status made me think of two things. First, I noticed a parallel between medieval and Renaissance midwives being praised by mothers whom they helpe while they were in labor and then calling them witches in private. Second, this reminded me of James' Dave Chappelle post: maybe we shouldn't judge people by their accents and socioeconomic status after all.
Nuptae dressed in nebulis
I didn't want to take up class time with this, but I still want to share with you my expertise on Latin cloud words. As Kitty can attest, I did my senior project on the different usages of nubes, nimbus, and nebula, and how they all relate to the elements. (Don't ask - I was trying to somehow connect linguistics and the elements.) What I discovered is that there is a connotational connection between different clouds and the elements, and that nebula in particular was connected with air. It makes sense - nebula is usually used for morning mist, which tends to be the most transparent of clouds. It is also connected to fog. Fog can be quite dense and impenetrable, of course, but Romans didn't realize that clouds in the sky weren't as solid as they looked, so to them even fog incorporated a lot more air than most clouds.
In reference to Publilius/Trimalchio's poetry, it makes sense to use nebula to describe transparent linen, and the connection with air also ties it in with the wind textile of the previous line. We should really imagine her in linen as insubstantial as the morning mist, and just as easily disappearing.
(I also want to point out the linguistic link between nupta-nebula, since the word nupta comes from the bride's veil, which envelops her like a cloud.)
In reference to Publilius/Trimalchio's poetry, it makes sense to use nebula to describe transparent linen, and the connection with air also ties it in with the wind textile of the previous line. We should really imagine her in linen as insubstantial as the morning mist, and just as easily disappearing.
(I also want to point out the linguistic link between nupta-nebula, since the word nupta comes from the bride's veil, which envelops her like a cloud.)
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Now that we are talking about bacon, we've really got everyone's attention.
This is a headline that would have caught the eye of any Roman satirist worth his salt! And Trimalchio, as a profit-minded estate owner, would be among the first to decry the pork shortage (unless he decided to take advantage of the buyer's market). Petronius never lets us forget the pig, no matter what a boar it may be...
Roman dates
In case anyone was having trouble figuring out what day was mentioned in 53:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_calendar#Months
Thanks, Greg-- if the rest of you are like me (i.e., unable to remember anything related to calendar dates or ancient money), you might want to bookmark this page on all of your devices.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roman_calendar#Months
Thanks, Greg-- if the rest of you are like me (i.e., unable to remember anything related to calendar dates or ancient money), you might want to bookmark this page on all of your devices.
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Corinthian Bronze
When I read Trimalchio's explanation of Corinthian bronze, I was naturally dubious. However, while I was sure that his account o was wrong, I have to admit that I did not know the actual story, so I went looking. Apparently, Pliny is our main source on the topic. At the beginning of his section on bronzes, he provides a story i that Corinthian bronze comes from the burning of Corinth by Lucius Mummius in 146 after he won the Battle of Corinth. It is clear that this is the basis for Trimalchio's story about Hannibal melting together all the metals from Troy, however garbled his details. I wonder if Pliny and Petronius were using the same (now lost) sources for the story, or if the putative origin was just common knowledge.
What is even more interesting, though, is that even as Pliny reports this story he is unconvinced by it, arguing that Corinthian bronze existed before the Achaean War, and thus it must have some other origin, though he has no idea what it might be. It is ironic that Trimalchio is wrong not just in detail but in everything.
Modern scholars are not even necessarily convinced that this bronze was an alloy with gold or silver, but just a very nice bronze produced in Corinth. It sounds like this is one of the points scholars could argue forever, since they only have literary evidence like Pliny and Petronius to work with. I like the idea of a copper and gold alloy, so I kind of hope it actually existed.
(I hope I'm not stepping on the toes of any archaeologist who already knew what Corinthian bronze is.)
Dave Chappelle: The Petronius of Our Time
Petronius gets credit for being the first author to use speech patterns to convey information (and probably judgements) about social class. But to get a sense of how nuanced that conversation between performer and audience can be, check out this Inside the Actor's Studio interview with Dave Chappelle:
Chappelle has mastered representing different social strata through dialogue. He uses syntax, lexical choice, and pronunciation (all the same tools as Petronius) to convey a great deal about the background of a character--and in doing so he makes us think about how we judge people. (Though the discussion of speech starts around seven minutes in, the earlier parts of the interview contextualize the discussion.)
What I find most interesting is the fact that Dave's discussion of race is not simple (witness the limo-in-the-ghetto scene). He's not just judging white (or black) characters for their dialect; he's challenging you to consider your own habits of judgement. Was Petronius doing that? Maybe.
It's true that the freedmen characters are sent up as half-educated and tasteless, but let's not forget that the urbane characters are sent up as pretentious and self-important. Trimalchio is focused on displaying his wealth, but the professors are focused on displaying their learning. Neither actually uses their advantage (money, education) for anything substantive; both are focused on stylish display. We know that the attack on the orators in the opening fragments is simultaneously an attack on the people who judge them by superficial criteria (in this case the parents who judge orators positively for stupid reasons are the target). Could the use of 'low' speech by freedmen be intended to criticize the reader's habits of negative judgement?
Chappelle has mastered representing different social strata through dialogue. He uses syntax, lexical choice, and pronunciation (all the same tools as Petronius) to convey a great deal about the background of a character--and in doing so he makes us think about how we judge people. (Though the discussion of speech starts around seven minutes in, the earlier parts of the interview contextualize the discussion.)
What I find most interesting is the fact that Dave's discussion of race is not simple (witness the limo-in-the-ghetto scene). He's not just judging white (or black) characters for their dialect; he's challenging you to consider your own habits of judgement. Was Petronius doing that? Maybe.
It's true that the freedmen characters are sent up as half-educated and tasteless, but let's not forget that the urbane characters are sent up as pretentious and self-important. Trimalchio is focused on displaying his wealth, but the professors are focused on displaying their learning. Neither actually uses their advantage (money, education) for anything substantive; both are focused on stylish display. We know that the attack on the orators in the opening fragments is simultaneously an attack on the people who judge them by superficial criteria (in this case the parents who judge orators positively for stupid reasons are the target). Could the use of 'low' speech by freedmen be intended to criticize the reader's habits of negative judgement?
Monday, September 17, 2012
Education Problems: Past and Present
Today, I was re-reading Sarah Ruden's translation, shortly after completing my readings for my education class. The beginning of Part 1 of the Satyricon begins with a complaint about education. It reads, "Young men weren't shut in by declamatory exercises when Sophocles and Euripedes were finding the perfect words. There was no professor blasting down talent from his ivory tower when Pindar and the nine lyric poets shied away from the Homeric verse and took up a more modest genre." Not being all together with it yet this morning, I forgot what I was reading and thought it was one of my education texts. Many of the problems discussed in this text reflect, almost identically on the texts we are reading in my other class about how standardized tests greatly narrow the school curriculum. "Every genre was poisoned by the same diet and cut short of a grand old age." This speaks to the problem of a strict and not at all diverse system that schools are turning to today. I just thought it was interesting how closely related the problems were, being that they are two significantly different time periods.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Jenny's Wonderful Drawing
I tried posting this earlier, but it didn't seem to work. Anyways, I thought posting Jenny's depiction of the Zodiac meal might help us visualize it while we studied.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Heu Encolpii!
I found Encolpius' hyperactive gag reflex (for example, Trimalchio's "Carpe, Carpe" pun turned him off food, and cracking the egg nearly made him throw up) was quite interesting. First, I have a hyperactive gag reflex myself; I only have to think about nasty things and I'm dry-heaving. On another note, how did the Romans react to such an involuntary reflex? I remember Thetis mentioning that blushing was fascinating to the Romans because it was an involuntary reflex. What would gagging be to the Romans?
On another note, Encolpius isn't supposed to be that smart. Maybe his involuntary turn of appetite and near-puking experiences indicate he's smarter than he lets on?
On another note, Encolpius isn't supposed to be that smart. Maybe his involuntary turn of appetite and near-puking experiences indicate he's smarter than he lets on?
American pigs! (A digression from the subject at hand)
There is a tantalizing excerpt of Frances Trollope's account of Cincinnati (and its pigs) at Three Voices. Nota Bene-- there is audio on this site, which you can choose to listen to or not, and you need to scroll through to get to the pigs. This site is dedicated to enhancing the image of Cincinnati-- for the real dirt, you need to read Frances.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Porcus (non aper) gausapatus
This pig, with its cap and blanket, is ready to join the cena! For those of you with an interest in Romans punning and playing with food, I've put a pdf of an article I wrote on Statius' Silvae ("That's Entertainment! Dining with Domitian in Statius' Silvae") in the Course Documents section of the UBLearns page.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
A Show On Ancient Roman Food
These two Brits like to go around eating the foods of different time periods and in this episode, they focus on Rome!
It shows what a Vestal Virgin eats for lunch, how garum is made, and the different course of a cena!
I think we should do something similar at the end of term!
XD
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cn9Z4-zc1s&feature=relmfu
p.s. I hope this works!
It shows what a Vestal Virgin eats for lunch, how garum is made, and the different course of a cena!
I think we should do something similar at the end of term!
XD
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9cn9Z4-zc1s&feature=relmfu
p.s. I hope this works!
A Complete Satyricon?
A while ago, I happened upon an interesting translation of the Satyricon. It is based not just on the manuscript tradition James told us about, but on what is called the Belgrade Manuscript. According to the translator's introduction, someone named Francois Nodot published this manuscript in 1693. He claimed that it had been found in Belgrade in 1688, when that city had been captured by the Habsburgs. Nodot lauded this manuscript as the only complete version of the Satyricon, and therefore priceless.
Of course, scholars quickly and unanimously dismissed his claim, and all agreed that he had himself written all the new material. Apparently, however, some were taken with his additions, and some editions of the Satyricon are printed with them included, although clearly marked as interpolations. The translator of the work I discovered, Alfred Allinson, has included the material from the Belgrade Manuscript as well, though he has made the (I think problematic) decision to not mark them out from the original material. Instead, everything flows seamlessly.
It is interesting, in a way, to see how the scenes in the Satyricon might have gone. The Cena Trimalchionis, of course, is not all that different, since it was the most complete segment we have. However, much of the detail between Ruden's chapters 1 and 2 is provided, and suddenly you can read about their stay in the country and a game of pass-the-partner, as well as the rites of Priapus that they interrupted. If you would like to see for yourselves, here is the link: Satyricon "adaptation".
Of course, scholars quickly and unanimously dismissed his claim, and all agreed that he had himself written all the new material. Apparently, however, some were taken with his additions, and some editions of the Satyricon are printed with them included, although clearly marked as interpolations. The translator of the work I discovered, Alfred Allinson, has included the material from the Belgrade Manuscript as well, though he has made the (I think problematic) decision to not mark them out from the original material. Instead, everything flows seamlessly.
It is interesting, in a way, to see how the scenes in the Satyricon might have gone. The Cena Trimalchionis, of course, is not all that different, since it was the most complete segment we have. However, much of the detail between Ruden's chapters 1 and 2 is provided, and suddenly you can read about their stay in the country and a game of pass-the-partner, as well as the rites of Priapus that they interrupted. If you would like to see for yourselves, here is the link: Satyricon "adaptation".
Trimalchio's wife...omg what a lupatria!
When I initially read the section relating to Trimalchio's wife, I was taken aback by the strong lexical choices that Petronius inserts into his characters' mouths. Her initial social status aside, Petronius has Encolpius' dining companion describe her as a "lupatria," domineering with respect to controlling Trimalchio and money, having a bad tongue (this was unclear. Does she curse too much or does she sound like Eliza Doolittle before she meets Henry Higgins?), and she acts like a "magpie on a couch." Initially, the description reminds me of a stereotypical Greek description of a Persian royal family, where the Persian queens exert personal and financial influence over their husbands. As much as Petronius' character attempts to paint Fortunata in a negative light, it is clear that she may be the more fiscally responsible and socially astute partner. Unlike Trimalchio who is unaware of his wealth and frequently disposes of valuable items for no good reason (like the silver that dropped on the floor), Fortunata is said to have a plan for all of Trimalchio's income. She appears to be quite rational in her decisions and interactions as she is described as "sicca, sobria, bonorum consiliorum [est]." Encolpius' companion also makes an interesting observation, "Quem amat, amat; quem non amat, non amat." Fortunata seems to be far more developed in her social relations, so much so that her relationships are quite black and white. She is in stark contrast to Trimalchio who cannot recognize when is the object of slandor and jokes. Trimalchio is oblivious to some of the disrespect that he receives and shows this by continuing to invite people without restriction into his house, even those who insult his wife right in front of him! Fortunata also appears to be helping with the execution of the dinner party while Trimalchio sits with his guests. This may be another hint at Fortunata not realizing the power of her wealthy status. Encolpius' dining neighbor tells him that had he seen Fortunata before she met Trimalchio, he would not even think of accepting bread from her. Apparently, even after she became rich, she is continuing to help with passing around food instead of letting slaves take care of the matter themselves. Petronius' passage on Fortunata here at first appears to be a biting criticism, but in actuality Fortunata appears to be an intelligent, socially aware, fiscally responsible (only so much as she appears to keep a ledger), and strong-willed woman.
Monday, September 10, 2012
The Onager and Trimalchio's Super-Mules
"Nam mulam quidem nullam habet, quae non ex onagro nata sit."
He doesn't have a single mule that wasn't sired by an onager.
What may seem to be extravagance for extravagance's sake is actually a calculated expression of decadence. Onagers, or wild donkeys, are very different from their domesticated brethren. While we may think of them as slow, plodding, braying barn denizens, wild asses are skittish, and very fleet of foot-- behaving almost like antelope. Devotees will remember Xenophon's account of donkey hunting in the desert on campaign (see Anabasis 1.5.2), and how the quarry possessed too much speed and endurance to be pursued by one horseman, forcing the Greeks to hunt one animal in a ham-handed relay.
So, Trimalchio's mules come from wild asses, not just because it's bizarre and exotic, but because that parentage would produce an offspring more prized for athletic quality. The joke is simply that Trimalchio should have no need for a pack animal to be a fast runner (you wouldn't hitch a thoroughbred to a plow, would you?). Like with so many other aspects of home management, Trimalchio has thrown his money around to acquire a prized tool; but not only is this super-mule unnecessary, it is wrong for the job.
Cena Trimalchionis by Fellini (1969)
The first time I ran into Trimalchio was back in my second year of Undergraduate in a class on Roman Society. My professor, who liked the more eccentric parts of the Romans, got us to watch Fellini's Satyricon from 1969. If you haven't seen it, it is well worth watching one night that you need a cheap laugh. I found the 'Cena Trimalchionis' with English subtitles on Youtube at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CpMakUEn4hs. It is an interesting take on the parts we have been translating.
When I later was invited to give a lecture on Roman dining customs as part of my teaching at my Alma Mater I couldn't resist inflicting Fellini on the first year students to try to spark the same interest that many in my year had shown. Apart from a few finding it 'disturbing' the class seemed to like the humour even if they didn't understand everything. And now I pass that joy onto you guys if you haven't seen it. Be warned there is some nudity and vulgarity but what less would we expect of Trimalchio?
Enjoy!
When I later was invited to give a lecture on Roman dining customs as part of my teaching at my Alma Mater I couldn't resist inflicting Fellini on the first year students to try to spark the same interest that many in my year had shown. Apart from a few finding it 'disturbing' the class seemed to like the humour even if they didn't understand everything. And now I pass that joy onto you guys if you haven't seen it. Be warned there is some nudity and vulgarity but what less would we expect of Trimalchio?
Enjoy!
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Colors...
 |
I have always wondered (without actually researching it) if the red and green so prominently on display in the Cena have something to do with the Circus factions-- see this entry on circus factions for more. This would fit in with the imagery of spectacle, gladiatorial games, theatre and mime that is ubiquitous in the Cena.
The illustration depicts a member of the Green faction and is part of the Quattro Aurighe mosaics in the Museo Nazionale Romano (Rome)
A Useful Handout on the Apparatus Criticus
Thanks to Dr. Karl Maurer of the University of Dallas for making this list of signs and abbreviations available.
Bureaucratese et cetera
Plucking some pearls of wisdom from Schmeling's commentary on Tuesday's assignment... direct quotations from Schmeling are in quotation marks.
The unnamed guest sitting speaking to Encolpius here is Hermeros, who has quite a bit to say later.
Trimalchio's pun on "Carpe" in 36 has so disgusted Encolpius that he has lost his appetite.
modo modo: just a little while ago. ignoscet mihi genius tuus: "We find here the added nicety of addressing another person in the polite third person (instead of the more usual second person) via his guardian spirit. With the rise of formality at the later imperial court, adressing officials in the third person via an abstract noun, and with a verb in the future or the optative, becomes so unwieldy that the modern reader is unsure of what the point of the plea is."--a form of bureaucratese nicely overladen with sycophancy.
topanta-- probably a corruption of Greek ta panta, 'everything'. "In his magisterial work, Palmer (1954) 151-2 uses this expression as one of his points of departure in commenting on the whole range of vulgarisms in the S., which mark the long and colourful history of the Latin language: 'Whereas Cicero reflects the sermo cottidianus of educated Romans, in the conversation of hosts and guests at Petronius' Cena we catch a whiff of the gutter.'"
sicca, sobria: "'thrifty and sound'. These words, siccus and sobrius, appear together in Martial 12.30.1; Seneca Beata Vita 12.4, Ep.18.4, 114.3."
vides tantum auri: "If the expression refers to Fortunata herself, it could be translated 'you see as much gold [as she weighs]'...If the expression refers to all the wealth in the dining-room (or T's house or estate), it could be translated 'you see all this gold which she watches over.'"
malae linguae: "with a hint of malicious quality; often with a connotation of evil, originally referring to magic spells as in Catullus 7.12." pica pulvinaris: a mapgpie on a couch. "Both Fortunata and the pica are acquisitive and talkative. In English, French, and Italian, 'magpie', pie, and gazza are still associated with chattering. The word gazette comes in fact from the Italian gazza."
milvus: the kite, a bird of prey (not to be confused with the toy)
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ex India semen boletorum: Mushrooms do not have seeds. If the Satyricon dates from the Neronian period, mention of the boletus would likely remind readers of the death of Nero's predecessor, Claudius. Nero jokingly called the boletus "the food of the gods" because it hastened the apotheosis of Claudius. Cf. Juvenal Sat. 5.146-8:
uilibus ancipites fungi ponentur amicis,
boletus domino, sed quales Claudius edit
ante illum uxoris, post quem nihil amplius edit.
nam mulam quidem nullam habet quae non ex onagro nata sit: Mules sired by onagers (wild asses) were supposed to be the best: Pliny NH 8.69: "From the union of the mare and the wild ass, when it has been domesticated, a mule is produced which is remarkably swift in running, and has extremely hard feet, and a thin body, while it has a spirit that is quite indomitable. The very best stallion of all, however, for this purpose, is one produced from a union of the wild ass and the female domesticated ass."
The unnamed guest sitting speaking to Encolpius here is Hermeros, who has quite a bit to say later.
Trimalchio's pun on "Carpe" in 36 has so disgusted Encolpius that he has lost his appetite.
modo modo: just a little while ago. ignoscet mihi genius tuus: "We find here the added nicety of addressing another person in the polite third person (instead of the more usual second person) via his guardian spirit. With the rise of formality at the later imperial court, adressing officials in the third person via an abstract noun, and with a verb in the future or the optative, becomes so unwieldy that the modern reader is unsure of what the point of the plea is."--a form of bureaucratese nicely overladen with sycophancy.
topanta-- probably a corruption of Greek ta panta, 'everything'. "In his magisterial work, Palmer (1954) 151-2 uses this expression as one of his points of departure in commenting on the whole range of vulgarisms in the S., which mark the long and colourful history of the Latin language: 'Whereas Cicero reflects the sermo cottidianus of educated Romans, in the conversation of hosts and guests at Petronius' Cena we catch a whiff of the gutter.'"
sicca, sobria: "'thrifty and sound'. These words, siccus and sobrius, appear together in Martial 12.30.1; Seneca Beata Vita 12.4, Ep.18.4, 114.3."
vides tantum auri: "If the expression refers to Fortunata herself, it could be translated 'you see as much gold [as she weighs]'...If the expression refers to all the wealth in the dining-room (or T's house or estate), it could be translated 'you see all this gold which she watches over.'"
malae linguae: "with a hint of malicious quality; often with a connotation of evil, originally referring to magic spells as in Catullus 7.12." pica pulvinaris: a mapgpie on a couch. "Both Fortunata and the pica are acquisitive and talkative. In English, French, and Italian, 'magpie', pie, and gazza are still associated with chattering. The word gazette comes in fact from the Italian gazza."
milvus: the kite, a bird of prey (not to be confused with the toy)
"Kites (also at 42.7, 45.9, 75.6) can fly great distances...and they are also ruthless birds of prey."
nummorum nummos: This reduplication is perhaps a Semitic way of securing emphasis; 'holy of holies. It is not uncommon in classical Greek...but not so common in Latin: 43.8, olim oliorum; Plautus Capt. 825, regum rex regalior; Cicero Div.1.66, mulier melior mulierum..."
quemvis ex istis babaecalis in rutae folium coniciet: Schm. conjectures that babaecalis may mean 'flatterers' or 'Smart Alecs.' the expression in rutum foliae conicere is repeated at 58.5, (also Hermeros speaking). Two suggestions as to what "to throw someone into a leaf of rue" might mean are a) to add to a cooking pot, as conicere frequently is used in recipes to mean to add to a pot, and rue is a very common herb in Roman cuisine, or b) because a rue leaf is small, something like "to put in a tight spot".
 |
| Ruta graveolens, or rue |
Rue is one of the ingredients in Moretum, the pseudo-Vergilian poem about making pesto (English translation here. A modernized recipe here-- this might be a good choice for a Petronian feast).
lacte gallinaceum: How did Trimalchio's estates produce chicken milk? Maybe they developed this technology:
uilibus ancipites fungi ponentur amicis,
boletus domino, sed quales Claudius edit
ante illum uxoris, post quem nihil amplius edit.
nam mulam quidem nullam habet quae non ex onagro nata sit: Mules sired by onagers (wild asses) were supposed to be the best: Pliny NH 8.69: "From the union of the mare and the wild ass, when it has been domesticated, a mule is produced which is remarkably swift in running, and has extremely hard feet, and a thin body, while it has a spirit that is quite indomitable. The very best stallion of all, however, for this purpose, is one produced from a union of the wild ass and the female domesticated ass."
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Inside the egg...
ficedula, or Orphean Warbler
The wooden hen broods over peacock eggs, which Trimalchio pretends contain live embryonic chicks. In fact, they are pastry eggs that conceal fig-peckers wrapped in peppered egg-yolk. The Italian candy company Ferrero makes a version of this today: the Kinder sorpresa, a chocolate egg containing a small plastic toy. Choking hazard! Here is a recipe for cooking Fig-pecker and Asparagus Omelette.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Roman Dining, etc.
Here are a couple of links to information on seating and status in Roman dining:
Reclining and Dining (and Drinking) in Ancient Rome
Age, Gender, and Status Divisions at Mealtime in the Roman House
And here is a link to a Word List for Petronius' Cena Trimalchionis-- thanks to John Porter of the University of Saskatchewan for making it available!
Now on to more disturbing matters...recipes for dormice. Here is a simple one from Apicius:
"Stuff the mice with minced pork, mouse meat from all parts of the mouse ground with pepper, pine kernels, laser, and garum. Sew the mouse up and put on a tile on the stove. Or roast in a portable oven."
Here is a modern one from a Gourmet article called Meals that Time Forgot: A more delicate recipe, from Traditional Slovenian Cooking (edited by Slavko Adamlje): “Cut the dormice into pieces, fry in butter or oil until golden brown, dust with flour and, after a few minutes more in the pan, add water. Put in cut potatoes, parsley, marjoram, peppercorns and lemon peel. Cover and simmer until done and add a little vinegar before serving.”
We should take note of Trimalchio's provision of a squadron of pedicurists to treat his guests' incipient paronychia -- left untreated, this can become a serious problem!
Saturday, September 1, 2012
PICA VARIA
Magpies were prized pets, and apparently could be trained, like parrots, to imitate human speech. In Ovid's Metamorphoses, the daughters of Pierus challenged the Muses to a poetry competition; when they lost, their punishment was to be turned into magpies. The Neronian satirical poet Persius uses the magpie as a figure for the bad poets of his own day.
Entering the Dining Room
It's worth thinking about the attention Petronius devotes to the entrance to Trimalchio's dining room. Each doorpost is decorated with fasces cum securibus, rods with axes, and an embolum (hapax legomenon, = rostrum, the beak or prow of a ship), with an inscription stating that Trimalchio's dispensator (a slave who handles money) had given them to Trimalchio, described in the inscription as a sever Augustalis. In addition to these emblems, there are two tabulae, one with Trimalchio's social calendar (he dines out on the last two days of the year) and one with pictures of the cursum lunae, i.e., the months of the lunar year, and images of the seven planets (or perhaps the deities representing them). These are the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. The seven planetary deities are the gods of the days of the week (with the order being Saturn, Sun, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus). This plaque is thus a calendar, and Encolpius notes that lucky and unlucky days are marked with a stud (bulla). Thus the entrance to the dining room displays the two things Trimalchio is most obsessed with: status (indicated by the insignia and social calendar) and time. Trimalchio's great interest in astronomy/astrology is a recurrent theme.
The commentators note that Trimalchio has the wrong insignia. The seviri were a board of six men, usually wealthy freedmen, who oversaw the cult of the emperor. They received various honors and privileges for their services: "The seviri, for their part, received various honours, privileges, and an outlet for political dreams, while the emperor gained a reinvigorated loyalty from wealthy and ambitious men, who by virtue of their status as ex-slaves, were ineligible for public office." (Schmeling's commentary). While the seviri are amply attested in inscriptions, they only appear in a literary setting in the Satyricon. Seviri were entitled to one lictor, one bundle of fasces, and no axes; rostra, or representations of ship's prows, were displayed by noble Romans who won naval victories, so Cinnamus' gift to Trimalchio is grossly over-inflated.
Trimalchio also has a slave positioned at the door to ensure that all who enter the dining room do so with their right foot, an exaggeration of the common superstition that journeys must be started and buildings entered with the right (lucky) foot. In this slapstick scene, you can envision Encolpius, Ascyltos, and Giton all simultaneously lifting their right feet at the slave's command, only to be confronted by another slave who throws himself at their feet to beg them for mercy. Evidently the three stand on their left feet while he grovels in front of them and explains his situation, then put their feet down and reverse course back into the atrium to ask the dispensator to pardon the slave. This is one of many situations where slaves are threatened with harsh punishments, only to be forgiven by Trimalchio. "It is an elaborate show: the one showing mercy is always perceived as a greater man than the one saved." (Schmeling commentary)
The commentators note that Trimalchio has the wrong insignia. The seviri were a board of six men, usually wealthy freedmen, who oversaw the cult of the emperor. They received various honors and privileges for their services: "The seviri, for their part, received various honours, privileges, and an outlet for political dreams, while the emperor gained a reinvigorated loyalty from wealthy and ambitious men, who by virtue of their status as ex-slaves, were ineligible for public office." (Schmeling's commentary). While the seviri are amply attested in inscriptions, they only appear in a literary setting in the Satyricon. Seviri were entitled to one lictor, one bundle of fasces, and no axes; rostra, or representations of ship's prows, were displayed by noble Romans who won naval victories, so Cinnamus' gift to Trimalchio is grossly over-inflated.
Trimalchio also has a slave positioned at the door to ensure that all who enter the dining room do so with their right foot, an exaggeration of the common superstition that journeys must be started and buildings entered with the right (lucky) foot. In this slapstick scene, you can envision Encolpius, Ascyltos, and Giton all simultaneously lifting their right feet at the slave's command, only to be confronted by another slave who throws himself at their feet to beg them for mercy. Evidently the three stand on their left feet while he grovels in front of them and explains his situation, then put their feet down and reverse course back into the atrium to ask the dispensator to pardon the slave. This is one of many situations where slaves are threatened with harsh punishments, only to be forgiven by Trimalchio. "It is an elaborate show: the one showing mercy is always perceived as a greater man than the one saved." (Schmeling commentary)
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