Not sure if this is the one mentioned by Francesca Tronchin on Twitter (if so, tip o’ the pileus!):
An ancient Etruscan home dating back more than 2,400 years has been discovered outside Grosseto in central Italy. Hailed as an exceptional find, the luxury home was uncovered at an archeological site at Vetulonia, 200 kilometres north of Rome.
Archeologists say it is rare to find an Etruscan home intact and believe the home was built between the 3rd and 1st century BC.
Using six Roman and Etruscan coins uncovered at the home, archeologists believe the house collapsed in 79 AD during wars unleashed by Roman general and dictator, Lucio Cornelio Silla.
Archeologists have discovered a large quantity of items which have revealed a great deal about life in the home and the construction techniques of the era.
“These are the best ruins that have ever been found in Italy,” said Simona Rafanelli, director of the Isidoro Falchi archeological museum in Vetulonia, told journalists.
“They represent something incredibly important from an archeological and historical point of view, because they finally give us an understanding of new techniques linked to Etruscan construction that we did not know until today.
“Here today we are rewriting history. It is a unique case in Italy because with what we have found we will be able to completely reconstruct the entire house.”
From the ruins they discovered a basement or cellar in which the family is believed to have stored foodstuffs.
A beautiful earthenware pot was found in the corner of the room and an olive press.
Pieces of vases and plates were also uncovered at the house, while the walls were made of sun-dried clay bricks.
The Oxford University Press blog seems to be running a series of podcasts about Cleopatra over the next few days (?). In this first installment, we have an interviewish thing with Duane Roller, who, of course, has recently written a biography of our favourite Alexandrian.
Sorry … I’m grumpy this a.m.. A piece in the Express about letter writers begins with these three brief paragraphs:
PLINY the Younger had a strong sense of description. The eruption of Vesuvius in 79AD looked like a pine tree, he told the historian Tacitus in a graphic letter, “for it shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk which spread itself out at the top into a sort of branches”.
It was actually his uncle Pliny the Elder who had passed the description on to his nephew. But it was such an accurate pictorial account of the natural catastrophe that engulfed the Roman towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum that volcanologists still use the term “Plinian eruption” as a scientific category.
Pliny the Elder was unable to write about the eruption himself because he died trying to rescue friends from Pompeii. He had taken a ship across the Bay of Naples but collapsed and died on the beach. How do we know? Because his nephew also wrote vividly about that event in another letter to Tacitus..
How can someone write in one paragraph that Pliny the Elder passed a description on to his nephew and in the very next one talk about his death on the beach. Doesn’t anyone at the Express make the connection???
A while ago we mentioned that lead recovered from a Roman shipwreck was going to be used to help in neutrino research. I’m sure I’m not the only one who was more interested in the shipwreck than the lead, so I’m happy to share this very interesting video/slideshow thingy by Rossella Lorenzi of Discovery News fame. All about the wreck:
I thought of tying this to the Times piece (below) but it seems sufficiently different to warrant its own little chunk of rogueclassicism. The incipit of a column in the Post … where possible, I’ve interspersed bits from Youtub of the clip in question:
1. In the Stanley Kubrick epic “Spartacus,” the Romans offer slaves leniency if they’ll turn in the title character, played by Kirk Douglas. But when Spartacus rises to identify himself, Tony Curtis’ Antoninus screams “I’m Spartacus!” So does another man, then another, and by scene’s end, the infamous “No Snitching” movement is born.
And so, too, is an iconic movie moment, as “I’m Spartacus” became a legendary movie line in league with “You talkin’ to me?” “I coulda been a contender,” and “Don’t call me Shirley.”
As such, the line has generated more parodies and offshoots in pop culture than the “Single Ladies” video has on YouTube. On the occasion of the film’s 50th anniversary Blu-Ray release this Tuesday, here are some of our favorites.
MONTY PYTHON’S “LIFE OF BRIAN” (1979) As the Romans seek Brian (Graham Chapman) in order to release him from his crucifixion, they ask him to identify himself. Caught unaware, as he’s cursing out John Cleese’s People’s Front of Judea, the also-crucified Eric Idle sneaks in with, “I’m Brian of Nazareth.” When the real Brian screams “I’m Brian,” so does another man on a cross; then another, and another, until it becomes a chorus — including one man who announces, “I’m Brian, and so’s my wife.” The gesture of generosity from “Spartacus” is flipped into a cowardly act of self-preservation.
“MALCOLM X” (1992) Spike Lee ends his biopic of the civil rights icon with a depiction of Malcolm’s assassination, followed by footage of the actual murder. Then real African and African-American children declare, in the same spirit of unity as Spartacus’ fellow slaves, “I am Malcolm X.” [the bit comes towards the end of this long clip; some nice oratory by Nelson Mandela follows]
“MONK” (2002) The episode “Mr. Monk Meets the Red-headed Stranger” finds Willie Nelson, playing himself, suspected of killing his road manager after a financial dispute. When the police come to arrest him, his band members loyally step up, intoning “I’m Willie Nelson” one by one. The real Willie wisely surmises, “I don’t think they’re goin’ for it, boys.” [sorry ... can't find one for this]
“SOUTH PARK” (2005) In the episode “Two Days Before the Day After Tomorrow,” which aired two months after Hurricane Katrina, Cartman and Stan accidentally breach a local beaver dam. This leads to Katrina-level flooding, and a parody of the hysteria and whirlwind of blame surrounding that tragedy that includes the mantra, “George Bush doesn’t care about beavers.” At episode’s end, after Stan confesses, the townspeople misconstrue his guilt for altruism and declare “I broke the dam” one after the other, Spartacus-style, as the music swells, with Stan screaming the details of his crime aloud to no avail. [can't find this one either, although I suspect it's there somewhere]
PEPSI COMMERCIAL (2005) Incorporating clips from the film, here the Romans simply want to return a lost lunch bag with the name “Spartacus” written on the back, and a can of Pepsi inside, to its rightful owner. As a Roman holds the can aloft and screams “Is there a Spartacus here to claim this?” Douglas and Curtis rise, Curtis screams his line, and the noble scene is transformed into a greedy grab for a can of soda as Douglas looks on, forlorn. In the end, the Roman declares that he is Spartacus, and takes the can for himself.
… and as long as we’re doing things Spartacan, I came across this little vid thing of the Mediaeval Baebes singing Salva Nos, with images from the 2004 tv version of Spartacus:
From Natalie Haynes in the Times’ entertainment pages (this one is filling my box and Facebook notification thingy; tip o’ the pileus to quite a few folks) … a good excerpt:
Spartacus reflects so many of our current obsessions: the actors are uniformly gorgeous, toned and buff, like models. It’s never questioned. These are gladiators — they spend all day working out. Well, maybe, but think what the Romans and Greeks used to look like on TV: Peter Ustinov was no John Hannah. And it’s even more obvious when you look at Perseus in the original Clash of the Titans movie and this year’s remake. Harry Hamlin was very pretty, but he would have needed a year in the gym to look like Sam Worthington.
So while it’s tempting to believe that we are like the Romans that we see on TV — the sex, the violence, the swearing, the beautiful naked ladies and the hot, naked guys — the truth is that we are simply constructing a vision of the Romans that shows us as we would like to see ourselves. Which raises the question of how much historical accuracy matters in entertainment.
The New York Post asked a pile of celebs the movies they have to see … a couple are of interest:
* Jeanine Pirro: “Gladiator.” It’s not just an historical classic about the triumph of the human spirit, it’s about settling scores. It’s about strength and honor.
* Sherri Shepherd (“The View”): “Gladiator,” because Russell Crowe fighting to avenge his wife and child is sexiness at its best.
A spelling mistake in ancient Greek on the doors to the Cambridge University classics faculty has left officials red-faced.
The stylish new entrance to the £1.3 million extension at the department, on the university’s Sidgwick site, boasts glass doors emblazoned with a quote by Aristotle, chosen by academics from the faculty.
But the quote – which translates as “all men by nature desiring to know” – includes the letter S, when it should in fact have the Greek letter sigma.
Prof Mary Beard, a member of the department, also criticised the electronic opening mechanism of the doors.
In her blog, she wrote: “Even the gods have shown their disapproval in their own inimitable way.
“We decided to have some nice ancient writing across the offending doors (partly another health and safety requirement – you can’t have plain glass doors in case someone bumps into them – I kid you not).
“One of the quotes we chose was that famous lines of Aristotle about ‘all men by nature desiring to know’. But look what happened to the S of ‘Phusei’ (by nature) . . . an English S not a Greek S.”
Prof Beard said the doors were too heavy for some people to push open manually – causing “rage and bottle necks” for staff and students.
The classicist said: “To open them, you have to press an electronic ‘open door’ button – and they then sweep aside dramatically in front of you. Dramatically and slowly. So, at busy times (like, on the hour, when lectures are changing over), there is a mass of bodies trying to get into and out of the building, but needing to wait for the stately pace of the doors’ operation.
“In any case, as soon as you push them open and then someone pushes the button from the other side, the doors take on a life of their own and come back and attack you.
“And as if that wasn’t enough, they repeatedly stop working anyway.”
The two-storey extension sparked a row with the nearby faculty of Asian and Middle Eastern Studies when plans were announced. Prof Richard Bowring, a professor in Japanese studies, described the design as “far from being an elegant solution”, and predicted a “blind corner” at the site would lead to a “nasty accident”.
But Prof Malcolm Schofield, chairman of the classics faculty board, described it as “ingenious and elegant”.
… kind of reminds me of the plaque I read every time I have a health and safety meeting at our union office. In very large letters we read “IN MEMORIUM” … shudder (ad nauseum (cuz I’m ‘sic’ of course) …
More coverage (you’d think there’d be a bit more creativity in headlines):
The lifework of Chris Bobonich requires deep thought: He is a Plato expert.
This week, the professor of philosophy and classics at Stanford (Calif.) University will travel cross-country to share his knowledge with a central Ohio audience.
The 50-year-old, at work on a book about Greek philosophers and practical reasoning, agreed to ponder some questions ahead of his Wednesday appearance.
Quando Rex Comitavit Fas — the rex sacrorum had to perform some sort of ceremony before the day’s legal business could be conducted (possibly connected to the idea of Regifugium)
15 B.C. — birth of the emperor-to-be-who-never-was Germanicus (brother of the emperor Claudius)
We mentioned the burials from Protaras a few days ago … the Reuters coverage on same provides a very interesting contrast with reports of digs going on in other parts of the Mediterranean … a couple of excerpts:
Locals say it could be the final resting place of Ajax’s niece, contain a golden chariot and will unleash a horrible curse.
But whether a tomb recently uncovered on the Mediterranean island of Cyprus contains the bones and booty of a close relative of a Trojan war hero straight from the pages of Homer or will just yield better evidence for understanding the rituals and lives of ancient Greeks is yet to be revealed.
[...]
Local press on the east Mediterranean island have carried wild claims that the tomb belongs to an ancient princess, the daughter of King Teukros of Salamis. Salamis was once the capital of Cyprus’s ten city kingdoms.
Legend has it that the king — whose brother was Ajax and uncle was the Trojan King Priam — ordered that his daughter be buried along with her golden throne and chariot at the point where the sun meets the sea.
But Cypriot experts do not share the local speculation on the tomb’s relationship with the figures of Greek mythology.
“It is impossible to connect the content of this tomb with ancient sources,” Hadjicosti said.
According to Evangelou, it is likely that this is not the only burial site in the area.
Readers of my Explorator newsletter will be familiar with the ongoing dispute in Ashkelon, where hospital expansion has uncovered a number of burials. The Israel Antiquities Authority has said for quite a while that it was a ‘pagan’ cemetery, and a recently-discovered altar seems to back up the claim. Here’s the IAA link (tip o’ the pileus to Joseph Lauer):
The development work for the construction of a fortified emergency room at Barzilai Hospital, which is being conducted by a contractor carefully supervised by the Israel Antiquities Authority, has unearthed a new and impressive find: a magnificent pagan altar dating to the Roman period (first-second centuries CE) made of granite and adorned with bulls’ heads and a laurel wreaths. The altar stood in the middle of the ancient burial field.
According to Dr. Yigal Israel, Ashkelon District Archaeologist of the Israel Antiquities Authority, “The discovery further corroborates the assertion that we are dealing with a pagan cemetery. It is an impressive find that has survived 2,000 years. The altar is c. 60 centimeters tall and it is decorated with bulls’ heads, from which dangle laurels wreaths. There is a strap in the middle of each floral wreath and bull’s head. The laurel wreaths are decorated with grape clusters and leaves. This kind of altar is known as an “incense altar”. Such altars usually stood in Roman temples and visitors to the temple used to burn incense in them, particularly myrrh and frankincense, while praying to their idols. We can still see the burnt marks on the altar that remain from the fire. The altar was probably donated by one of the families who brought it to the cemetery from the city of Ashkelon”.
Dr. Israel adds that during the archaeological supervision of the development work burial structures were discovered, which served as family tombs, and cist tombs that were used for interring individuals. In addition a large limestone sarcophagus (stone coffin) with a decorated lid was also found. The sarcophagus stands 80 centimeters high is 60 centimeters wide and is 2 meters long. Part of the stone in the sarcophagus was left rather high in the spot where the head of the deceased was placed and resembles a kind of pillow.
Tip o’ the pileus to Lyndsay Powell for this one (via Twitter) … an appropriate excerpt on the Spartacus: Blood and Sand series … should tide y’all over until I can write my own review(s) thereof (numerous ‘marathons’ are planned for the summer):
Classical scholars and internet anoraks doubtless will find many quibbles, but the historical background of Spartacus is actually plausible. The geopolitics is good. It is sometime before 73BC. Barbarian tribes, here the Getae, threaten in the Balkans, and the enemy in the east is King Mithridates of Pontus. The dilemmas of a Roman general are deftly drawn; duty to the Res publica (the state) or personal glory, his family pressing for the latter. At home politicians have to weigh up the different demands of the Senate and the plebs.
For most in the modern world, Spartacus is Kirk Douglas in the 1960 film; all muscles and dimpled decency, an iconic swords-and-sandals action hero. The real Spartacus of history led a breakout from the gladiatorial school in Capua. Slaves and the oppressed rural poor flocked to his standards. For three years his rebellion raged across Italy, defeating Roman army after army. At last, in 71BC, he was defeated by the future Triumvir Crassus. Spartacus’s body was never found.
We’ve dealt with claims of ‘ancient soccer’ before, but his one is new to me:
Ancient Roman football games with players kitted out in authentic period costume have been organised for 29 May Trilj, inland Dalmatia as part of celebrations for the 800th anniversary of the town.
Delmati and Romans will battle it out on the pitch as referees – the emperor Diocletian and his wife Prisca – preside and Roman centurions provide security.
The traditional games organised by the sport association GAZ, have been going on since 2005.
In 1968 in a small village near Gardun Trilj, a Roman tomb with a picture of a boy holding a ball was discovered. The International Football Association FIFA acknowledged this to be the first artifact of the game in the world.
Can’t find an image, alas … or any other reference to this on the web in English, but perhaps folks have seen this one (which is apparently in the National Museum in Athens):
… that and more useful images from the Roman Ball Games page. Outside of that, with the goings-on in South Africa looming, teachers might want some Soccer/Football vocabulary … the Vatican Dictionary had pilae coriaceae lusor added to it a while ago … perhaps folks will add others in the comments.
rogueclassicism: 1. n. an abnormal state or condition resulting from the forced migration from a lengthy Classical education into a profoundly unClassical world; 2. n. a blog about Ancient Greece and Rome compiled by one so afflicted (v. "rogueclassicist"); 3. n. a Classics blog.