Professor Mary Beard

Mary Beard - Professor of Classics at Cambridge University - like all successful professors - has published a lot. But unlike most successful professors a lot of people know who she is. That's because 1) she's written books that ordinary people read, and 2) she's been on the telly (as the British say).

Now although Mary is the Professor of Classics - that is, the study of Greece and Rome - Mary specializes in Rome. She recently squared off in a (rather) good-natured debate with then-London mayor Boris Johnson about whether Greece or Rome was the best. This debate, we must point out, was carried out amongst the Greeks and Romans themselves.

What makes studying the classics - whether it's about Greece and Rome - so much fun is that there are so many misconceptions that you can clear up. And what's more fun is you can continue to "clear up" misconceptions that have already been cleared up!

Clearing up things that everyone already knows seems de rigueur for post-Millennium television shows. There was a recent TV show about Pompeii (not, we hasten to add, one that Mary presented) where the announcer spoke about the "new revelations" of what really destroyed the town. What you get on these types of shows is a sonorous voice-over like:

Historians have long believed that the Pompeians died of the volcanic gases and ash from the erupting volcano. But NOW Professor Gerhard Lechtamarschmitkleineschwanz of the University of Southwest Northeast Seldom-On-Tyne has found ...

Then the announcer will explain how the professor has just NOW discovered, it was

Not ash!
Not gas!

... but instead was the dreaded

PYROCLASTIC
FLOW!!!!

... that is, the collapsing volcanic cloud that rolled down the mountain and engulfed the towns.

Sometimes you'll read (or at least hear on television) that the phenomenon of pyroclastic flow was finally recognized in 1980 with the eruption of Mount St. Helens. That seems to make sense because it wasn't until 1982 that Haraldur Sigurdsson, a geologist from the University of Rhode Island, published a detailed account of the Vesuvius eruption. Professor Sigurdsson was able to identify the number and extent of the flows that ultimately covered the town. But whatever date you want to use, we're talking 30 years before the television presenters dramatically announced the amazing new out-of-date revelations.

Although not named as such, pyroclastic flows and surges were recognized long before Mt. St. Helens erupted. There was a description of a nuée ardente - the "fiery thick cloud" - from the eruption of Mount Pelée that destroyed the town of St. Pierre on the Caribbean island of Martinique in 1902. There were even sequential photographs taken of a flow on a following eruption the same year. The nature of the cloud was later correctly deduced as a fluidized mass of rock, dust, and gases, a characterization that was even mentioned in the early popular account of volcanoes in the Time-Life Nature Library book, The Mountains. This book was published in 1962. The actual term pyroclastic flow, though, was used at least twenty years earlier when in 1941, the pioneering volcanologist, Howel Williams, used the term when writing about the formation of volcanic calderas.

But the first description of pyroclastic flow was from the ancient Romans themselves. Cornelius Tacitus, the surprisingly accurate Roman historian, had written to his friend Pliny the Younger for details of the eruption. In AD 69 Pliny had been living with his mom and uncle at Misenum (modern day Miseno) which is about 20 miles west of Pompeii.

Pliny, only seventeen at the time, had witnessed the eruption first hand. Not surprisingly, the event made an impression and he remembered details that fit perfectly with what modern volcanologists have deduced. Specifically, Pliny mentioned how he saw the volcanic cloud descend to earth and spread over the Bay of Naples. The letter was written about 20 years after the fact. Of course, today there are videos of eruptions that clearly show the ground hugging flows as they race down the slopes.

The First Accurate Description

Although Mary's books and television shows have been quite popular with the British public, her lectures are even more informative and are entertaining as well. One series of lectures was about how the Romans represented their emperors in art. During the lectures, Mary raised the question of how many of the statues of Julius Caesar, Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, and their buddies were actually made during the life of the subject.

Now everyone knows that most contemporary portraits of the Roman leaders - whether emperors or not - are from the coins. You get pictures not only of Julius Caesar and the Emperors, but guys like Marcus Brutus (of "Et tu, Brute" fame) and the rather pugilistic looking Mark Antony. The images tend to be somewhat crude and not always consistent. But regardless of the skill of the artists, the pictures are clearly intended to be true portraits in the modern sense of trying to give us an accurate likeness.

As far as the statues - marble or bronze - almost all were carved or cast after the subject died. But exactly when remains a big question. In fact, often today's - quote - "experts" - unquote - can't even tell whether a carving is actually from the ancient times or was created for some rich Renaissance fat cat. Sometimes they can't even tell if it was carved within the last century! One famous statue in a world renown museum is classified as "530 BCE or Modern". In any case, the statues of most Roman emperors we have were fashioned after they were dead and gone.

Most, yes, but not all. Mary also mentioned a well-known bust of Augustus that was found in 1910 by Professor John Garstang. But it wasn't discovered in Rome or any of its provinces. Instead, it was uncovered in what is now the Republic of Sudan, at the archaeological site of Meroë then the capital of the ancient kingdom of Kush. Since Rome had never extended its rule that far south, how the heck did the statue get there?

Well, here's where actual historical writings help. By 30 BC Egypt was a Roman province under Augustus. Mary pointed out that we know that around 25 BC, the Kushite army made a foray across the southern boundary of Egypt and pulled down some statues of Augustus and took them back home as war trophies. So if you find a statue of Augustus in the Sudan, it almost certainly came from around 25 BC. So to see the statue - made while Augustus was still alive and Emperor - click here.

Mary also has written a history of Rome - appropriately titled SPQR - that covers the time from the founding of Rome and ending up in 212 CE during the reign of Caracalla, a rather unpleasant man who nevertheless made some good bath buildings. Stopping with Caracalla is a bit early compared to other histories. Usually the - quote - "end of the Roman Empire" - unquote - is given as 476 CE when the last western emperor, Romulus Augustus, was given the old heave-ho by the - quote - "barbarian" - unquote - Flavius Odoacer.

But actually the Roman Empire just kind of petered out and didn't really fall completely until 1453 CE. In any case, Mary ended the book with Caracalla because that was when Caracalla granted full Roman citizenship to all inhabitants of the Roman empire. In many ways this ended the empire as we know it because the Citizen vs. Non-Citizen dichotomy was what defined much of the culture that we think of as Rome.

But still, with all the books on Rome, why, Mary herself asked, do we need another?

Well, for one thing we do learn new things. For instance, the relatively new field of microarcheology has started yielding new information. The scientists have started looking at the caca in the cloacae of ancient Roman towns and have found that the average citizen ate a pretty healthy diet - lots of fruit and vegetables and whole grains. But they also ate some of the odd-ball foods that were mentioned in the ancient cookbook of Apicius like sea urchins. Of course, analyzing what you find in sewers gives you a hodgepodge from the entire population. On the other hand, analysis of the isotopes found in bones - which can be correlated with diet - shows rich and poor ate differently.

But the main reason you need to write new histories is to put the historical events into - quote - "the context of the times" - unquote. That is, the context of our times. Interpretations always see connections with the times of the historian and the ancient world, and it's actually kind of fun to go back and read histories written in the past. Even books written as little as ten years ago will read quaint at the best of times and unintentionally hilarious at others. No doubt the histories being written today will fare the same.

Speaking of hilarity, one of Mary's more recent books was about Roman humor, and one of the chapters talks about a book called the Philogelos which means the Laughter Lover. Despite the language - Greek - the Philogelos is a late Roman work - around 400 CE - and is the world's oldest surviving joke book. Mary's own book, we must caution, is a scholarly work about what made Romans' laugh and is not a joke book, per se.

Although some write-ups in the popular media imply the Philogelos has just been found - again an example of how old facts are continuously "rediscovered" - honesty compels us to state the book has been long known by classicists. A modern edition was issued in 1968, albeit in German, and a more recent edition is in Italian. English speakers, though, have to be satisfied with an absurdly-priced edition from 1983.

But if you don't want to pay hundreds of dollars (or even a grand) to read ancient jokes, you can - believe it or not - go to these rather unusual buildings called libraries. True, your local branch probably won't have a copy of the Philogelos, but the librarians - often nice helpful ladies - ought to be able to get an inter-library loan which - and may we die the deaths of dogs if we lie - probably won't cost you a penny. In any case, the rarity of the book and lack of access probably doesn't matter. After all, most of the jokes aren't really that funny.

So why should we want to read them? Well, one reason is to learn how the ordinary Romans thought. If you read history books, you can get the impression that there was a uniformity in Roman culture which really didn't exist. For instance, you'll read that Romans believed that when people died, their spirits continued to exist and would sometimes manifest themselves as spectres among the living. But then we have a letter from Pliny the Younger where he asks a friend if he believed ghosts (phantasmata) were real or are just products of the imagination. By posing the question, Pliny tells us that the question was up in the air.

As far as what the jokes tell us about the people who tell them, consider the following excerpt from the Philogelos, somewhat freely translated:

An astrologer cast a horoscope for a boy who was seriously ill. Then after the astrologer told the boy's mother her son would get well, he asked for his fee. She told him to come back the next day and she would pay him.

But he said, "What if the boy dies during the night? I won't get paid."

Now before you double over with laughter, remember that we read that Romans believed strongly in omens and horoscopes. But this - well, we'll call it a joke - tells us a good chunk of ordinary Romans saw astrologers as hucksters and didn't take the horoscopes seriously. We read that even Julius Caesar actively ridiculed the auguries and signs read by the priests, particularly the "soothsayer" who told Julius to beware the Ides of March.

The soothsayer story isn't just from Shakespeare. It shows up in the writings of the ancient historians Suetonius, Plutarch, and Valerius Maximus. We even have the soothsayer's name, Spurrina.

As ill-befitting a man who was elected chief priest of Rome, it seems Julius laughed at divine warnings and snickered that priests could read whatever the wanted into the signs and auguries. Of course, you also can snort that these historians lived over a century after Julius was killed and anyone can predict an event a hundred years after it happened. But Cicero, who knew Caesar personally, also tells us the Spurrina story and states that the tale is proof that reading the future using the guts of sheep works beyond a shadow of a doubt. For what it's worth, Cicero never comes off as the brightest of the Roman leaders.

Now we can "get" a lot of the jokes in the Philogelos, but admittedly they are what we would call lame. Read this one:

An egghead came to see a very sick friend. The man's wife sadly said her husband had "departed". "Well," the egghead replied, "when he gets back, will you tell him that I dropped by?"

But others are even worse.

An egghead bought a pair of trousers. But he couldn't put them on because they were too tight. So he shaved his legs.

OK. Just why are these jokes so unfunny and yet were preserved for posterity? Well, a good deal of humor also involves puns or plays on words. Such jokes rarely work in translation. Consider this old chestnut.

Why did the pony not give a speech?

Because it was a little hoarse.

Now translate that into Greek.

Why did the políon not give a speech?

Because it was a little trakhón.

Nope. It just doesn't work.

But the main reason old jokes don't pan out so well is that actions and words in the ancient world had connotations and associations that are lost today. For instance, the joke about the guy who shaved his legs because he couldn't put on the trousers is a reference to a guy wanting to wear a macho he-man and even barbaric type of apparel - which is how the Romans saw trousers. But to do so he had to behave in what was then seen as being prissy and even effeminate - shaving your legs.

You certainly don't need to go back to Ancient Rome to find jokes that have lost their humor by obsolescence. Go to the various editions of Joe Miller's Joke Book. Even the editions written in the 19th century are lame indeed:

A certain fop was boasting in company that he had every sense in perfection. "There is one you are quite without," said one who was by, "and that is common sense."

... or are even incomprehensible:

A gentlemen going into a meeting-house, and stumbling over one of the forms that were set there, cried out in a passion, "Who the devil expected set forms in a meeting-house?"

Well, maybe it's how you tell it.

Scholars of humor like to read such old jokes, not because they're particularly funny, but to see how they have become harbingers of our own comedy standards. In the Philogelos we have the joke:

A man met an egghead and said, "Hey! That slave you sold me just died." "Nonsense,' the man said, "When I owned him, he did no such thing"

Some scholars (or at least writers) have pointed out this joke is the predecessor of the famous "Dead Parrot" Monty Python sketch. Well, maybe. On re-viewing the skit, the connection with the Roman joke seems rather tenuous.

But in Mary's book she does give us one bit of information and that's how the Ancient Romans heard the sound of laughter. She points out that in one of the plays of the Roman poet and playwright, Terence (Publius Terentius), he writes the sound as "Hahahae!" It's interesting, Mary noted, that imitating animal sounds varies so much with language, but in all cultures, laughter is pretty much a "ha-ha" or a "tee-hee".

There is, though, at least one joke from antiquity that still sort of works. This was told, not only in the Philogelos, but also by the Greek writer Plutarch. It's about when the King of Sparta, Archelaus, went to the barber. He sat down, and we have the following exchange:

"Πῶς σε κείρω, Βασιλεῦ? "
(Pohs seh KAY-roh Ba-si-LOI?)

"Σιῶπων."
(see-OH-pohn)

Which means:

"How would you like me to cut your hair, Your Majesty?"

"In silence."

The idea behind this joke was being used in popular novels well into the 20th century. In Von Ryan's Express by David Westheimer - now more often remembered as the movie where the 50-year-old Frank Sinatra played the 36-year-old, Colonel Joseph G. Ryan. Dr. Stein had begun treating Ryan's scalp wound.

Ryan endured Stein's ministrations stoically though he grunted when Stein took the first stitch.

"Felt that, did you?" Stein asked cheerfully.

"What are you doing up there, brain surgery?"

"That was my dear old mother's dream back in St. Louis," Stein said, tying off the stich. "'My son the brain surgeon.' That was her dream. She never learned to pronounce obstetrician. She says 'Baby doctor'. Doesn't sound the same, does it? 'My son the baby doctor.' But that's life. Sometimes it comes up heads, sometimes it comes up tails. There. A neat job if I do say so myself. Too bad it's where you can't admire it, Colonel."

"Thanks, Captain." said Ryan. "I've had barbers who talked less."

Ironically, the things from the Roman world which strikes us as funny are what its citizens took seriously. For instance, the physician, Galen, tells us of his resolve when he was a young man.

When I was a young man I imposed upon myself an injunction which I have observed through my whole life, namely, never to strike any slave of my household with my hand.

My father practiced this same restraint. Many were the friends he reproved when they had bruised a tendon while striking their slaves. They could have waited a little while, he said, and used a rod or whip to inflict as many blows as they wished and to accomplish the act with reflection.

Like a number of Roman historians, Mary has also written a book about Pompeii, and she presented a TV show about it. The book deals mostly with the daily life of the town, and there are interesting tidbits (or "titbits" as the English say) about living in the city.

There is a chapter about the baths - a popular and nearly daily activity for most of the citizens. The workday in Roman towns began early - before dawn - but ended around noon. Then you'd hie off to the baths.

"Bath" is not really an adequate description for the establishments as they were more like our health clubs. Mary also pointed out that although there are places for the water to run into the pools, there aren't any outlets. So the water either ran out onto the floor and was replenished as needed as it evaporated or got splashed out. So the water probably got dirty pretty quick, particularly since before you went into the water you had gone outside into the exercise yard, worked up a sweat, and then got rubbed down with olive oil.

In her book and television show, Mary also gives us quite a bit of information on the gladiator games but also an honest discussion of what we don't know. She mentions an advertisement where one of the rich fat cats in town, Decimus Lucretius Satrius Valens, and his similarly named son, Decimus Lucretius Valens, sponsored gladiator bouts stretching over five consecutive days. Ten pairs of gladiators is a bit thin for five days, Mary points out, since other games sometimes had thirty gladiators in a single day.

As usual there was also an animal hunt. Gladiators, though, did not themselves fight animals - this was the prerogative of specially trained bestiarii. How the fights were spread out we don't know nor how many gladiators did not live to fight another day. If the bout of the two Lucretiuses was similar to other lists recording a game's outcome, it was probably 10% - 20%.

Mary made an interesting point that you don't get from reading other books. This was about the famous gladiator, Celabus. We have a couple of inscriptions regarding this gentleman:

Suspirium

Puerllarum

Celadus Tr

Puerllarum

Decus

Celadus Tr

Often translated as "Celadus, the Heart-Throb of the Girls" the first inscription is more literally "Celadus, Who Makes the Girls Sigh" or possibly "Who Makes the Girls Pant." The second means something like "Celadus, the Glory of the Girls". The "Tr" stands for Trax which was the word for "Thracian". This didn't mean Celadus was a Thracian by nationality who came from the region where Greece, Bulgaria, and Turkey meet. Instead he was a type of gladiator that fought in a Thracian's outfit.

Now most of the books or television shows tells us how this quote proves that Celadus (and other gladiators) were idolized by the ladies much as they go for the "bad-boy" rock stars in our own day. Mary, though, pointed out that it's important to note where archaeological data is found before drawing any conclusions.

This famous graffito was not found in a young girl's bedroom or along the streets hastily scribbled on the wall in a trembling feminine hand. Instead it's from the gladiator's barracks - and was almost certainly written by Celabus himself. Yes, as like as not what we really have is a male macho fantasy.

Some things in Pompeii are a lot like our own. For instance, the Romans had a surprising number of rules regulating gambling in taverns - prohibited in most modern bars today. On the other hand, there were few laws regulating - and none prohibiting - men from - ah - "enjoying themselves" - with the ladies in an establishment where such enjoyment was for a fee.

It was in that establishment that Mary translated some graffiti. Although there are many inscriptions which express similar sentiments, the specific inscription Mary read may have been the one that runs:

Hic ego cum veni futui.

... which she translated as...

Well, CooperToons is a website that promotes CooperToons Family Values and can't write out everything.

References

Images of Power from Ancient Rome to Salvador Dali, Mary Beard, A. W. Mellon Lectures in the Fine Arts, National Gallery of Art, 2011.

Laughter in Ancient Rome: On Joking, Tickling, and Cracking Up, Mary Beard, University of California Press, 2014

Review of "Le facezie del Philogelos. Barzellette antiche e umorismo moderno", M. Andreassi (Lecce: Pensa Multimedia Editore, 2004), Christian Laes, Bryn Mawr Classical Review, 2005.09.43

The Philogelos or Laughter-Lover (London Studies in Classical Philology Series, 10, Brill Academic Publishers, 1983. The cost of this edition from some vendors can run to nearly $10 a page. Ridiculous price for a group of very unfunny jokes. Fortunately, an inter-library loan can correct many of the injustices in the world.

An Introduction to Wall Inscriptions from Pompeii and Herculaneum, Rex Wallace, Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, 2005. Another ridiculously priced book costing hundreds of dollars - and it's a paperback!

Repeat after me: Inter-Library Loan!

Erotic Pompeiana: Love Inscriptions on the Walls of Pompeii , Antonio Varone, L'Erma di Bretschneider, Rome, 2002.

Cookery and Dining in Imperial Rome, Apicius, Dover Publications, 1977.

On the Passions and Errors of the Soul, Galen, (Paul Harkins, Translator), Ohio State University Press, 1963.

Pompeii - the Life of a Roman Town, Mary Beard, Profile Books, 2008.

"On Talkativeness", Plutarch, Morals, Volume 4, p. 459, Loeb Classical Library, 1939.

The Meroe Head of Augustus, Thorsten Opper, British Museum Press, 2015

"Jokes from The Laughter Lover", John Quinn, Διοτίμα: Materials for the Study of Women and Gender in the Ancient World, http://www.stoa.org/diotima/anthology/quinn_jokes.shtml#fn5 A web page with some of the jokes from the Philogelos. There are also footnotes explaining nuances of the ancient cultures that made the jokes funnier in the olden days.

Suetonius, Volume I: The Lives of the Caesars, Suetonius (J. C. Rolfe, Translator), Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1998.

Plutarch's Lives, Vol. VII: Demosthenes and Cicero, Alexander and Caesar, Plutarch (Bernadotte Perrin, Translator), Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1986.

"Dusts of Destruction", Stephen Sparks, New Scientist, Vol. 69, No. 855, pp. 134 - 136, July 19, 1973.

"Caldera and their Origins", Howel Williams, University of California Publications in Geological Sciences, University of California Press, Vol. 25, pp. 239 - 346, 1941. In this publication Professor Williams uses the term "pyroclastic flows" to describe layers of rocks in what is known as the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes in the Katmai National Park in Alaska. These flows, he said, did not come from the cone itself but from fissures. He mentions such "lavas" are "unusually fluid and rich in gas" possibly indicating Professor Williams interpreted these as flows of gas rich molten rock. But deposits at this site are indeed ignimbrite which is recognized as forming from solidified pyroclastic flows.

"Dead Parrot Sketch Ancestor Found", BBC News, http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/7725079.stm

Joe Miller's Complete Jest Book, Being a Collection of the Most Excellent Bon Mots, Brilliant Jests, and Striking Anecdotes in the English Language, 1859, H. G. Bohn.

Greek and Roman Ghost Stories, Lacy Collison-Morley, Simpkin, Marshall and Company, Ltd. 1912. A bit old but lists sources for various Roman ghosts stories.

Von Ryan's Express, David Westheimer, Doubleday, 1964.