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Epicurus Bust, Palazzo Massimo

Epicurus Bust, Palazzo Massimo



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OBESITY, CORPULENCE AND EMACIATION IN ROMAN ART 1

This article explores the significance of sculptural and painted representations of ‘overweight’ and ‘underweight’ body types in the visual culture of Roman Italy from the fourth century bc through to the late Empire, and considers the relationship of this imagery to Greek and Hellenistic precedents. In spite of the topical character of fat in 21st-century sociology, anthropology and medical science, obesity and emaciation in the ancient world remain almost completely unexplored. This article sets out to examine the relationship of fat and thin bodies to power, wealth, character and behaviour, and seeks to identify patterns and continuities in the iconography of fleshiness and slenderness across a stretch of several hundred years. Such bodies could be evaluated in a number of different ways, and this article exposes the diverse — and sometimes contradictory — responses to body fat in the art and culture of the Roman world. It first examines the significance of obesity and emaciation in language, literature and medicine, and then discusses visual representations under three headings: ‘Fertility’ ‘The marginal and the ridiculous’, examining the relationship between body fat, humour and figures at the edge of civilized society and ‘Portraits’, exploring fat and thin in the portraiture of real-life individuals in the realms of philosophy, Hellenistic rulership, Etruscan funerary art and Roman public sculpture.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Exercising the legions in the Marcomannic Wars

Image by mharrsch via Flickr
Equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius
outside the Capitoline Museums in Rome
By every honorable expedient they [Hadrian, Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius] invited the friendship of the barbarians and endeavored to convince mankind that the Roman power, raised above the temptation of conquest, was actuated only by the love of order and justice. - Edward Gibbon, The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire

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Epicurus Bust, Palazzo Massimo - History

FERNANDO PESSOA - 06/01/1916

I heard that once upon a time, in Persia

I cannot remember which, the war,

Invaders burning out the City

Women screaming high and loud

Two chess players played quiet and distant,

Their never ending game of war.

In the shade of a wide old tree

They stared at the wooden board,

And, close to each one awaiting, for a moment of relieve,

Next passed an anxious moving time,

To quinch his thirst, and ease the mind

A sip of a refreshing wine

Houses burning, homes looted

All the riches and the goods,

Put against the fallen walls,

Spear pierced, young children

Blood spreaded all around.

But where they were, alongside the city,

All this noise, sounded afar

the chess duelers carried on

Their overlong game of war.

In the messages of the lonesome wind

Screams and cries came to their ears,

And, upon reflection, they knew from the soul

And young daughters raped there

At this contiguous distance,

Although the moment they thought of it,

on the vacant and empty forehead,

Brief their attentive and calm eyes

To that old dueling white and black old board.

When the ivory king is in danger,

What matters meat and bones,

Of sisters, mothers and children?

When the rook fails to cover

The withdrawal of the queen,

The sack has no weight at all.

Whilst the trusted hand takes the check

To the opponent's exposed king,

Little weight on the soul that not very distant

Their own Children are ady-ing.

Even if, suddenly, over the wall

Of an invading warrior, who will soon

(Is still given to the calculation of a move

Is also delivered to the favorite battle

Of the great indifferent ones

Fall cities, suffer peoples, cease

The tranquil possessions and estate

Are burned and torn apart,

But when the war stops games,

May the king be not in check,

And the most advanced ivory pawn

My brothers Epicurus lovers

According to ourselves than with him,

Let us learn from history

And the calm chess players

That the serious matter little to us,

Also that the leaden weigh little ,

The natural impulse of instincts

Give in to useless enjoyment

(Under the quiet shade of the grove)

What we take from this useless life

Glory fame, love, science, life,

The memory of a well played game

Attentive playears as we are

Glory weighs like a rich burden,

Love tires, because it is steady and searching,

And life passes and hurts because you know it .

Holds the whole soul, but, if lost

Weighs little, because it is nothing.

Ah! under the shadows that unwittingly love us,

Beside, and attentive only to the otious work

Of one more game and its bloodless (mental) war.

Even if the game is just a dream

Let us imitate the Persians in this story,

Near or far, war and homeland and life

let them call us in vain, each one of us

Under the friendly shadows

Dreaming, he the partners, and chess

Ouvi contar que outrora, quando a Pérsia

Tinha não sei qual guerra,

Quando a invasão ardia na Cidade

Dois jogadores de xadrez jogavam

À sombra de ampla árvore fitavam

E, ao lado de cada um, esperando os seus

Quando havia movido a pedra, e agora

Um púcaro com vinho refrescava

Ardiam casas, saqueadas eram

Violadas, as mulheres eram postas

Traspassadas de lanças, as crianças

Mas onde estavam, perto da cidade,

Os jogadores de xadrez jogavam

Inda que nas mensagens do ermo vento

E, ao reflectir, soubessem desde a alma

Que por certo as mulheres

E as tenras filhas violadas eram

Inda que, no momento que o pensavam,

Lhes passasse na fronte alheada e vaga,

Volviam sua atenta confiança

Quando o rei de marfim está em perigo,

Que importa a carne e o osso

Das irmãs e das mães e das crianças?

A retirada da rainha branca,

E quando a mão confiada leva o xeque

Pouco pesa na alma que lá longe

Mesmo que, de repente, sobre o muro

Dum guerreiro invasor, e breve deva

O jogador solene de xadrez,

(É ainda dado ao cálculo dum lance

Pra a efeito horas depois)

É ainda entregue ao jogo predilecto

Caiam cidades, sofram povos, cesse

Os haveres tranquilos e avitos

Mas quando a guerra os jogos interrompa,

E o de marfim peão mais avançado

Meus irmãos em amarmos Epicuro

De acordo com nós-próprios que com ele,

Dos calmos jogadores de xadrez

Tudo o que é sério pouco nos importe,

O natural impulsa dos instintos

(Sob a sombra tranquila do arvoredo)

O que levamos desta vida inútil

A glória a fama, o amor, a ciência, a vida,

A memória de um jogo bem jogado

A glória pesa como um fardo rico,

O amor cansa, porque é a sério e busca,

E a vida passa e dói porque o conhece.

Prende a alma toda, mas, perdido, pouco

Ah! sob as sombras que sem querer nos amam,

Ao lado, e atentos só à inútil faina

Mesmo que o jogo seja apenas sonho

Imitemos os persas desta história,

Ou perto ou longe, a guerra e a pátria e a vida

Que em vão nos chamem, cada um de nós

Sonhando, ele os parceiros, e o xadrez

portrait taken by Epicuros

* The ones that got away, and away again. A 9min 50 sec 152Mby MP4 video, with 12 sections from various locations with pictures selected which haven't made it to Flickr and which have been 'hanging about' for a good many months, in their respective directories, awaiting something to be 'done'. this video I hope will be of interest in the current crisis with the Covid-19 virus. An appropriate and very suitable piece of music, by 'Epicuros', accompanies the 146 shots.

** NB: As this is longer than the fixed 3 minute viewing in the Flickr interface, the Video must be downloaded to the desktop to see the full length.

** Right-click on the down-arrow option, the last of the three options to the lower right of the video frame. Select 'Save-As' and view.

** Apologies I have only just realised that the extended video playing time is only available for Pro users and the full length only if down-loaded..

1. Aldwarke Burngreave Templeborough Wath Dropping Well. First stop Aldwarke and a very great contrast in technology here. For around 18 months I owned a Nissan 380Z, high performance sports car with just enough room for two. The 'boot' had a sign on the lid, instructing the user on how to load their golf clubs! a suitcase was out of the question, just about. At 22-25 m.p.g, the tank cost just over £100 to fill, around 80 gallons and the road tax was the highest at over £500/year. Interestingly this, my next car a Honda CRV and the present Suzuki, were all around the same insurance, £250 ish/year fully comprehensive. Obviously 'old gits' weren't deemed a risk when driving a car which had a top speed of 250m.p.h on the clock. Behind, shunting wagons in the Aldwarke U.E.S. steel yard is then, Sept 17th 2012, a TATA Steel shunter, No.53, with a haul of coiled wire ready to make up a working out of the works later. Next in sequence but 3 years later, a shot of the new Tesco site at Wicker, looking towards the Spittal Hill Tunnel area and the awnings along the side of the site and the derelict buildings in the background being 'attended too', well, some of them. Back 2 years in time and at the site, in Rotherham, of the almost complete New York Stadium, the new home of the Rotherham United Football Club. The River Don is just at left and the building, now being demolished is the old 'Guest & Chrimes' building, replete with much asbestos and once, Grade II listed. Moving on 5 years and driving past the new development at Templeborough, this is the form of the 2nd Biomass Power Station being built right next to the GCR and Midland line through the area where they intersect at Ickles the new River Don bridge can be seen on the right, replacing a long-standing, single carriageway, blue structure which succumbed during the development. The next pair of shots were taken in July 2012 on a jaunt to discover remnants of artifacts in the Wath Yard area and in fact these two shots were taken at the old GCR's Wath Central Station site, with now very little to show the huge hive of activity which once existed here. The Station was opened in 1851 and closed as long ago as 1959. The final location, another old GC line trackbed, this time from the Dropping Well Colliery to the north of Rotherham, near Kimberworth Park. The area of the colliery is now, not surprisingly, a housing estate and the on the opposite side of Dropping Well Road is its namesake's Golf Course. The steeply-graded line ran from the colliery at the junctions of Wortley and Dropping Well Road, south to join the GCR's Blackburn Valley line at a north-facing junction, at Grange Lane the track-bed would have gone under the M1 motorway to achieve this and the formation can still be seen on the OS map. These last 3 pictures in this section show the diminutive railway bridge carrying the single track mineral line, which crossed a footpath onto what is now the golf course and the view along the bridge looking north with the colliery area over at top right, with its 1970s housing estate peeking through the trees in these early April shots from 2012. The last shot, now looks south towards the M1 in the distance through the trees, and it is clear what the grade would have looked like to a coal-train driver as the land fell away from around 120m here, down to 50m at the junction at Grange Lane, around 1km away.

2. Oughtibridge Paper Mill site - cleared. The large site of the Oughtibridge Paper Mill was cleared by last July, 2019, and as part of the proposal to build upto 300 new houses, within a few metres in height from the course of the River Don, a new road-bridge was put in, the second such in the Upper Don Vally here, in the last year. The other bridge is at a similar development at Deepcar, below the GCR's old Deepcar Station building and it too is to receive a large number of new housing types covering that derelict land and the land released by the move of the old Sewage Works facility from there, to the new one at Morehall. The Don Valley has thus received two new road bridges in the last 18 months or so based on new housing requiring access to old derelict, and now cleared, industrial land. As these 5 pictures show, the Oughtibridge site is clear, the old bridge is still extant a little to the south if the old one and the contractors have left and the site is fenced off. I can not see, in these times in early 2020 with the spread of the Corona Virus and this country and many others, in total 'Lock-Down', and the economic down-turn which is forecast due to this, that this site will be developed in anywhere like the near future. And, I may ask, what about the River Don flooding, there appears no concession to prevention of this, as it did dramatically in July, 2007, as later, the Global Climate Crisis will have to be addressed and this after the Global Covid-19 pandemic crisis is over, which is currently affecting, globally, 2,267,744 people with 155,175 deaths.

3. Moorgate Cemetery & Janet's Grave & Boston Castle Views. Sadly, I once had two sisters, one who died in tragic circumstances before I was born and the second, in 1990 from ovarian cancer. The first shot in this short sequence shows her commemorative marble stone in Moorgate Cemetery, adorned with some flowers on the day I visited in July last year. The old Victorian Moorgate Cemetery, was opened in 1842 by business men for the sum of £499, see-

and consisted of 3 acres of land at the side of Boston Castle, another prominent Rotherham landmark. Walking through the grounds and to the hill overlooking the Rother Valley, the following scenes reveal themselves. The four next shots show the views directly to the west with the Templeborough Biomass works prominent to the upper left of centre. To the right in the next shot, a view towards Centenary Park and the GCR's line through it with the old Millmoor football stadium at the left edge of the picture and Kepples Column standing on the horizon above it to the left. The 3rd shot swings round to the south-west and towards the Scandinavian Steelworks along the Rother Valley and the centre of Sheffield in the distance. The 4th shot, zooms in to the railway interest surrounding the Masbrough Freight Depot area where various pieces of freight hardware can be seen- a set of 'Hoods' or 'Pig Pens' on the left and stacked containers occupying almost the whole of the central section of the shot. In the background the Tinsley Viaduct with the M1 on top and to to the right, the orange/black building is the Tinsley Biomass Works with the Magna Science Adventure Centre in front of it. And finally in this section, a shot of the newly refurbished 'Boston Castle' which apparently was thought to have something to do with the 'Boston Tea PArty' but in fact although being built around the same time, it has nothing to do with it at all. Well worth a visit, see-

4. Fraisthorpe Beach WWII Relics & 'She Sells Sea Shells' at Bridlington. The east coast in Yorkshire has much to commend itself and the beaches around Bridlington are now some of the cleanest in the country and with much to see, including of course, relics from World War II in the form of various section of defence installations, now slowly being dismantled by the relentless tides. In the the background, the 'new kids on the block', wind turbines are springing up everywhere and if this subsequently means no more Nuclear Power Stations, so much the better. There are however, mixed views about the impact they have on the Landscape, but at least you can visit the surrounding areas close by, something I wouldn't recommend trying at a Nuclear Power installation. On the day of this walk, 10th October, 2019, there was a large presence of crab claws with elastic bands around them, dozens of them, presumably washed back in from the shell fishing boats which now work out of Bridlington there was even a dinosaur in the haul!

5. Tinsley Shepcote Lane & Canal views. Ten days later and I was back in the local area photographing the scene around Tinsley South Junction whilst awaiting the arrival of a GBRf light engine working which, from what we could gather, was a prelude to using Tinsley Yard as a Newell & Wright Container Port, whilst rail replacement work was underway at their depot at Masbrough. The first 13 of the 21 shots shows the 'secluded' area between the Shepcote Lane curve up to Tinsley Yard, from line line running along the Lower Don Valley from Tinsley East Junction. Hidden away at this time of year, amongst the slightly yellowing leaves, the sign board for Tinsley South Junction can be seen, the main line behind it running to Woodburn Junction and the line in front, up-grade, to the north-west corner of Tinsley Yard. The large Sheffield Road over-bridge stands prominent in the background. The small building at the side of the track is a remnant from better days when the area on this side was a Goods Yard, full of sidings and with a small goods shed at the end, this is what can be seen in the pictures, though all signs of connection with the running line, has long gone. From the 1955 OS map there looks also to have been a 'Ramp' beyond the Goods Shed, possibly for pushing wagons up to off-load cargo/coal etc onto the back of trucks there is no sign anywhere of a road connection here though and this are is completely cut-off from access by vehicles, something which may have ensured its lack of development! Woodburn Junction's Signal W0208 can be seen for the approach back onto the main line and this is very useful to see operating on the track diagram, as a means of indicating where workings have got to when exiting the Yard the state of the vegetation, even in late October, leaves much of the infra-structure hidden from view, though hopefully, not for the drivers. The Shepcote Lane canal over-bridge can be seen at the very end of this section of the Tinsley flight of locks and there are videos on Flickr showing this bridge being crossed, here, related to the GBRf moves on this day-

and from December, 2014, a real treat, here-

On the banks of the Sheffield & South Yorkshire Navigation, the two small buildings, now graffiti'd were once part of the old Tinsley Station, the area looking rather sylvan in its settings this, just before the next 4 shots showing some of the colourful freight traffic, on the motorway in this instance, although a loco, the one in the video above, does pass by to provide 'proper interest'. The H.G.V.'s were amongst about 20 I took shots of, just due to the colourful nature of the Container sides. The ones shown here are 'Truswell Haulage', 'GreenFlag', 'Emsley Crane Hire', 'Marks & Spencer', 'Sky Blue Trucks?', 'Smeets', & 'DHL'. Adding rail traction interest, here and in the video above was GBRf, class 66, 66777, 'Annette' on the 0Z23, Thrybergh Junction (not Roberts Road) to Tinsley Yard(GBRf), light engine route learner in preparation for using the south-east section of Tinsley Yard as a Container Terminal. Under the lower deck of the Tinsley Viaduct, the Sheffield Tram/Train line from Parkgate may be seen as it approaches heads towards the main part of the Supertram network at Tinsley Meadowhall tram stop beyond, between the two decks of the viaduct, is the Tinsley Biomass Works. The last four shots show the locale in the are of the Tinsley Station site with a Sheffield Supertram heading towards the camera whilst heading away, is one of the Tram/trains heading for the terminus at Sheffield Cathedral this land once occupied by GCR metals. In the foreground, another signal in the area, Woodburn's W0205 signal and also useful on the track diagram for spotting moves along into the Yard, or along the main-line to Woodburn Junction the deciding element being the 'feather', unlit here, atop the signal for the divergence, up-grade, into the Yard at Shepcote Lane Junction. In the same location, the end of Sheffield Road from Rotherham, as it approaches the large Tinsley roundabout at the southern end of Junction 34, and the usual mess associated with derelict land. A row of houses once stood here but they were demolished in the years since I photographed them on 10th June, 2008 now its advertising awnings attempting to hide the mess some folk feel in the need to just dump anywhere.

6. Tinsley Yard refurbishment for container traffic & DMU & Toyon Berry at Woolley Wood. The height of the activity at what turned out to be a temporary Container Terminal for Newell & Wright, though I was told in the middle of operations it was to be permanent.. Here its 30th October after the light engine moves ran a week ago with GBRf 66777 and now the place is received around 4 in-bound and 4 out-bound services a day, freeing up Masbrough whilst long-overdue track-relaying is taking place on the main and into the terminal. Even is these shots its clear what a muddy place this is for this type of operation and the 7 pictures show the state of the ground looking to the south, in the first shot and then the north in the second. The entry for off and on-loading is the dirt road on the right, passing the N&W office which has been equipped with generator and telephone and some floodlighting. The exit road was to be the old dive-under at far left but it didn't take long for this to collapse and which meant some remedial work had to be undertaken to make it more robust the large pile of dirt was part of this and the depth of lorry tracks in the mud is easy to see. In the second shot, the concrete blocks mark the line of the in-bound road on the left and on the right, the Container wagons access right of centre, with a long rake of parked up redundant flat-bed wagons which have been shunted up the stub of the Yard' through line. The 3rd shots shows the in-filling has begun but it looks like they have their work cut-out for them and .. in a very short time, the rains began and flooded the whole area around Rotherham and as far as here. the worse rain for a long time, though, it turned out not to be the last! The 4th shot shows the remnant of Tinsley Yard at right with one of the two large M&S aircraft hangar-type buildings dominant at centre. The last shots show the work on-going to try and provide a better road surface for the out-bound traffic and a road-roller is busy compacting material to establish a good surface with following, on the same day, the pile of muck awaiting laying into the soft ground of the exit road under Wood Lane bridge. Autumn is underway as evidenced in the last shot with the road-roller doing its best, Autumn colours are evident and the heavy rain isn't far off! Last shot was on the following day when the sun managed to illuminate the Toyon Berries at the side of the Blackburn Valley line at Woolley Wood where a Northern DMU class 153, 153332, heads south towards Sheffield on the 1Y17 service to Nottingham via Sheffield.

7. Miscel. shots, Masbrough, Orgreave and Class 20s, 20312 & 20302, at Neepsend on the RHTT in early November, 2013. Some 'stuff' which was going on in 2016 with two views from the area near Masbrough once occupied by the 'Tivoli' cinema, one of a handful which were once available in Rotherham, the others being the 'Essoldo', the 'Odeon' and 'Hippodrome' the 'Tivoli' was finally demolished in 1989 after closing as a cinema on 31st January 1959 with the final films being Alan Ladd in 'The Proud Rebel' and Dean Jones in 'Handle With Care', see-

The intervening shots between these two, were taken on the the old Orgreave Coking plant site, a large part of which, on the northern side was being redeveloped for the Waverley Housing Estate of around 4000 houses of one sort or another, the shots here being from March, 2016. Finally, over at Parkwood Springs in 2013, and 3 years before this working was finally withdrawn from the Stocksbridge branch line, the final operation being in October/November 2016, the RHTT set can be seen heading up-grade through the old Neepsend Station site. This is the Rail Head Treatment Train, with Direct Rail Services, class 20s, 20312 & 20302 at the rear on the 3S13, Sheffield to Stocksbridge Works and in about 40 minutes it will have reversed and return as 3S14, Stocksbridge Works to York Thrall Europa with 20302 then leading. The last shot is of the set motoring up-grade towards Owlerton, Wadsley Bridge, Wharncliffe Wood and finally Deepcar for the reversal just outside the MS&LR's Deepcar Station, now a private residence of course. the terrain speaks for itself. By 2017, the 'Citrus LandRover' had taken over these duties, see-

taken on 31st October in the same location and-

taken in Wharncliffe Wood about 40 minutes after the first one during the 2nd year of operation. I had no inkling in 2017, how this set was running and on what days. that information was obtained at the Wadsley branch of Sainsburys the following year, when I happened on two track-workers buying some lunch and quizzed them about the 'SandRover'. They were most obliging and obtained the details from the appropriate person at Blast Lane at the Wicker, the centre for Network Rail Track operations in the area.!

8. Flooding at Morehall & Oughtibridge. As mentioned above, in the section on the Container Terminal operations at Tinsley, although conditions there weren't perfect in late October 2019, about 10 days later, they got a whole lot worse. These 9 shots show the vast amount of rain which fell just after the 1st week in November, with all the local reservoirs now full and over-brimming, the first shot showing the over-flow at Morehall. This like Broomhead, its feeder water, and just to the north at Stocksbridge, Underbank, Midhope and Langsett with Scout Dyke, Royd Moor and Ingbirchworth further north still, but which all flow into the River Don when they are full and there's Winscar at the Don's head at Dunford Bridge! So one can imagine the calamity which can happen during prolonged heavy rain which occured during the British Summer, July, of 2007. At this time it was not nearly as bad but the increase in reservoir water levels caused the Don to flood in certain places and unfortunately one of the worst areas hit locally, was that around Rotherham Central Station. This is significant due to the fact that the diverted container traffic into and out of Tinsley Yard, from the temporary Newell & Wright operation, ran along the Lower Don Vally line, though Kilnhurst, Rotherham Central and Tinsley and into the Yard. After suspending operations at the Yard due to the problems with the road mentioned earlier, workings recommenced on 6th November with the 1st container load from the London Gateway, see video here-

but this only lasted two days, as the heavy flooding which ensued after the 6th November, resulted in the weekend working on the 9th November, getting stuck at Kilnhurst, as Rotherham Central reverted back to its old function, a canal bed, and the station was flooded up to the platforms, stopping all moves from the north along the GCR line though Tinsley and into the Yard. These next pictures show some of the local mayhem cause near where I live, on the north-west side of Sheffield, close to Oughtibridge. A flooded road with 'Satsuma' Ford doing a three-point turn, the water coming out of a local care home and flowing straight down hill to the River at the bridge crossing. Subsequent pictures show the impact of the water as it flows down-hill towards the river, with local residents sand-bagging entrances to keep the water at bay. The 'spate' of the river can be seen in at the Oughtibridge bridge with a golden labrador dog at the side of the river whose chances I wouldn't fancy if it fell in. Doncaster wouldn't be that far away the speed the river was flowing. Oughtibridge Park, right next to the river was flooded and at right, a sign for the French Folk who once raced through here, this is 'Cote d'Oughtibridge' for the Tour-de-France which occured in 2014, see-

The final shot shows water flowing downhill out of the premises of a local care home, lets hope the residents had boats and water-wings.

9. Flickr 2019 - Best Shots. I prepared last years entries over a few weeks and ended up with a selection of around 50, narrowing them finally to these 10 shots. Unfortunately, I had miss-read the date for the last day for the entries and missed it by just a few hours. the ten are,

* the Bridlington 'Pepper Pot', now long out-of-use and not open to the public,

* 'Tornado' crossing the Norfolk Bridge over the River Don at Attercliffe in Sheffield,

* Puffins & Kittiwakes at the Bempton Cliff Bird Sanctuary to the north of Bridlington,

* Kite Flying Extravaganza on the cliffs at Sewerby Park, Bridlington,

* 'Graffiti artist 'Mufasa' on an awning board at a redevelopment site on Egerton Street, Broomfield, Sheffield

* Same location and more development work proceeding with the remnant of the old buildings in the area which haven't been protected .

* The 'Old Park Rolling Mill' on Club Mill Road. The business rolled Sheffield Plate and silver for other manufacturers and closed in the 1950s. The site, although derelict is still worth a visit, if only for the colourful graffiti.

* Colourful Fibre Optic data cabinets near the River Don on Ball Street, Neepsend.

* 'Ancient Wisdom' now prevails on Parkwood Road, this was taken at a point just north of its junction with Sandbed Road and looks a little out-of-place, though interesting to see.

* This interesting character, with dog, and earphones, passed by opposite the large Station Hotel next to where the Midland's Parkgate Station used to be, just behind the pub long gone of course. Crossing over the road bridge in the background, a lunchtime convoy of 5 DBS locos, 66117, 67020, 66140, 66112, & 66086 on the lunchtime, 0F54, Belmont Down Yard to Toton North Yard light engines return working.

10. Re-visiting Club Mill Road, Sandbed Rd., following once more the foot-steps of Adrian Wynn and to finish this section, the on-going redevelopment in the Netherthorpe and Shalesmoor areas. By the start of the year, with some fine weather in late January and not much else going on before making extensive changes to how my Flickr presence was represented, another visit was undertaken to chart the shots taken by Adrian Wynn, over the last decade or so. The subsequent changes to the Flickr material was to entail moving almost 1800 pictures from the standard account to two Archive sites, leaving the newest 995 shots on the old 'Views in Camera' site-

and then starting out anew with 'Views in Camera, 2020', this one, which now has 60 images so far, starting from the 1st January. Much of the very oldest and little viewed material, around a 1000 shots, was removed altogether, there has been some casualties I have noticed but I now feel I am more in control of the state of matters, than what was a amounting to almost 6000 pictures and videos, all sat in the same contiguous place. So, from the path which takes the walker up to Wardsend Cemetery at Owlerton, and close to the old site of Coopers Scrapyard, still in use as such though not owned by Coopers anymore, the path extends along the side of the River Don, all the way along to Neepsend. Some of this material has been seen before, see 'The Adrian Wynn Landscape Collection, Re-Visit, Part I', here-

The first 20, taken on January 22nd this year, in this set of 37 shots show much more detailed aspects of this area and right along to and inside of, the old 'Sheffield Ski Slop', itself now planned for massive renovation after a tragic few years after a fire which left the site derelict and used, in some part, as a refuse dumping space no surprise there! The latter 17, taken on the following day, the day before the big Flickr presence changes commenced, show new development in the area surrounding the 'Daniel Doncaster & Sons', Cementation Furnace, some information relating to this-

'. This is the last remaining intact example which was built in 1848 and was last fired in 1951', further 'it is the only example of its type and was built by Daniel Doncaster & Sons and used a process developed by the Germans in the 1600s and used a technique of placing wrought iron with charcoal in large stone chests sealed with 'piecrust' or 'wheelswarf', a sludge of sandstone & steel dust, and firing the whole lot up to red heat for a total period of around two weeks. The wrought iron would absorb the carbon and be turned into steel the iron never becoming molten but just soft. The impurities would form bubbles of gas and created blisters on the surface and it is for this reason that the material was called 'Blister Steel'.

The area is replete with well executed Graffiti of one sort or another and there are 'spooky' pieces inside buildings which have been fenced off due to the presence of Asbestos in the building's structure. The 4th shot in this sequence shows the Furnace now being dwarfed by surrounding development with an old chimney stack at Kelham Island over on the far left and standing on the hill in the right background, the 'Seventh-Day Adventist' church at 67, Andover Street in Burngreave quite an impressive looking building. A further shot with the furnace on the right and a university building on the left has the area of the Ski Slope in the background, the Stocksbridge branch line to the steelworks also passes through this picture behind all the buildings at the foot of the hill. The derelict looking land in the foreground is under significant redevelopment and when finished the whole of the area around the Doncaster Cementation Furnace will be full of buildings which dwarf the last intact Blister Steel relics in the country.. hope its safe! Once the derelict industrial buildings have gone, sone have been kept and refurbished I hasten to add, this whole area will take on a completely different fell, one which I am sure Adrian will almost certainly not have approved of!

11. Carnaby Airfield History. The old airfield at Carnaby was used in the 2nd World War to accommodate crippled aircraft which were having to make an emergency landing. The small 'park' on the main Bridlington to Driffield road, at Carnaby, tells an amazing story of one such operation where a member of the crew fell through a hole in the aircraft after it had been shot at when flying back from a bombing raid off the coast of Norway in April, 1945. He was saved by his parachute harness D-Ring which got snagged under the aircraft, the D-Rind was found to have elongated by 50% when they finally touched down at Carnaby, out-of-fuel but with the help of the 'FIDO' lighting system at the airfield their own HS2 Navigation system having been destroyed by the flack. The story of Sgt. Smith is shown in the 4th picture here. The airfield has long been-redeveloped into a very linear, and long, industrial estate.

Some information from Wikipedia-

'. RAF Carnaby opened in March 1944 under the control of No. 4 Group Royal Air Force. Unlike most RAF airfields, there was a single runway, five times the width of a standard runway and 9,000ft (2,700m) long, lying approximately east-west to enable bombers crossing the coast an easier landing. Two similar airfields were either constructed or further developed along the east coast of England, at Manston and Woodbridge, all three providing an emergency option for wartime bomber crews. The three airfields were developed to the same pattern, Woodbridge being the first to open in November 1943. The runway at Manston was brought into operation in April 1944.

The last shot shows what the main Carnaby Village shopping centre looked like, in the 1940s and 1950s, all facilities provided.

12. Canal Basin refurbishment of bed at the Wicker. I had over-looked doing anything with the 18 shots in this last section, all taken on a walk back along the canal, from Attercliffe to the Victoria Quays Canal Basin, on 2nd March this year, just 3 weeks before all hell broke loose due to the CoronaVirus-19 country-wide 'Lock-Down' it was extended a further 3 weeks at the beginning of this week, though there appears to have been no formal government announcement to this effect another cock-up. Major work, at the end of the Sheffield & South Yorkshire Navigation, was in progress in the Canal BAsin at Victoria Quays with only the end section full of water and being used as a 'boat-park', which for the duration of the work, were stranded there. The first shot shows the extent of the work with it commencing just before the A61 ring-road connecting the town centre to the Sheffield Parkway the A61 bridge prominent in this shot. The canal water are lapping at the barrier in the right-hand corner and the barrier isn't keeping all the water out, heavy duty pumps being in action as well, pumping the seepage back to the canal, see later. The whole of the, presumably, 'puddle-clay', bed is being replaced, a fortified roadway has been installed from the bank and the stranded barges can be seen in the distance. The other 8 shots in the first part of this section show-

* The fortified dirt road-way onto the site from the Wharf building side. The Sheffield Victoria Hotel is in the right background and St. Pauls Tower is at left

* Looking back along the canal formation under the A61 ring-road bridge with the last boat on the canal formation at the barrier being the blue, 'L.B. Hardfeet' passenger cruiser and seen in action here-

The tall, square chimney is at the side of the old Sheffield Victoria Station railway formation, whose single line to Stocksbridge passes over the canal on the bridge just under the blue-fenced, A61 ring-road bridge.

* The extent of the dirt-road fortification can be seen, taking the excavator traffic on and off the site to the Wharf Street area of the Quays. A large floating blue-platform has been moored to its left now at rest on the old canal bed.

* The other end of the business shows the blockage with the pound behind it for the temporarily marooned barges and boats next to the Wharf at the far end. This pound is also leaking somewhat and pumps are keeping the water flowing back to the pound behind the wall of thick liner and aggregate topping. A classic blue Morris 1000 van stands next to the show on the right and behind, the 'Best Western Hotel with the refurbished Wharf building to its left.

* In the background, the railway formation on the old Sheffield Victoria site, in front, the square chimney stack still extant from 'the olden days' and right in front of that, the blue-fenced A61 ring-road bridge. This view looks directly east over the nearer pound with its barrier, to beyond the fortified dirt-road access and in the distance, just under the road-bridge, the other wall holding back the full might of the canal water. The yellow-topped barge on the left has a 'NO RUBBISH' sign on its deck and just behind it in the 'hold', is a pile of rubbish! The square chimney may well have been part of the old Effingham Stree Iron & Steel works which were close to it on the left.

* Looking over the site towards the 'Capita' building at the end of the Sheffield Parkway, the 'Veolia' recycling centre & chimney is next to that on the left and the two blue-brick pillars at the side of the canal are adorned with water birds and the years, '1819' on the nearer one and '2019' on the one behind, so a 200 year celebration, re-doing the 'Tinsley Canal, S&SYN, bed.

* The final shot in this first part of the last section shows the boats moored up at the Wharf-end of the canal. Some information about the local businesses in the Victoria Quays area-

'. As well as local businesses including CMS (International Law Firm) and Servelec (UK headquartered technology group) there is Victoria Junction Café and sandwich shop, Livingwell gym, Hilton hotel, Narrowboat moorings, a brokerage and chandlery service (C.V. Marine) & two wide beam hotel boats (Houseboathotels, Sheffield) providing hotel accommodation on the water. Newcomers include Born & Raise who joined the premises in 2015 as a Marketing Agency and most recently Ovo Spaces an award-winning specialist interior design and fit-out company, who now own both Terminal 1 for their offices and Terminal 2 as a unique event space, available to hire for conferences, meetings and more. In early 2015 Sheffield Creative Agency 'We Are' purchased 3,500 sq.ft of office space on the ground floor of the Grade II-listed Grain and Terminal Building which had been vacant for 20 years. '

The canal-bed refurbishment work was set to complete by the 31st March, having begun on the 6th January.

The second set of shots in this section show the canal, walking back towards Attercliffe, just a short way, and some of the local 'features' which make this an endearing place to be. Some more barges are moored up along the canal bank and a boat is in the dry dock at the 'Finesse Boatyard. Another sky-blur craft lies to the left, 'Salty' and the narrow Cadman Street bridge is just around the corner and in the next picture it is seen with some canal-side colourful artistry. Some trains at last, this,here, in the form of a Northern Rail class 150, on the 1Y15, Leeds to Nottingham service seen passing a few old canal-side derelict, on the left, buildings. The next shot shows some more artistry on the wall of the building just under Cadman Street. I scanned the bar-code and got the word 'Affix' which is the word appearing above in large letters, still no the wiser. A few minutes later and the next traction delight comes rattling along, this time in the form of the more brightly coloured livery of a class 185 TPE unit, this one, number readable miraculously, is 185109 and its the 1B75, Cleethorpes to Manchester Airport service, about to pull into Sheffield Midland. On the left a building with a more striking gable-end than is normal in these parts, this artistry something to do with Sheffield United as both the name 'Bramall Lane' and the club's insignia are present in the artwork I know nothing. Up in the real word of roads and works, right next to the CAdman Street canal bridge is the well known, 'Sipelia Works', now in the hands of 'Emmaus' who are very active in supporting homeless people well, they were, until the whole operation shut on March 23rd due to the Covid-19 'Lock-Down' what do the homeless do now. Some information about its past history-

'. Sipelia Works on Cadman Street is closely tied to the history of steel making and the cutlery trade of the 19th and 20th centuries. Built for Eyre, Ward & Co. between 1850 and 1855 it represents not only the industrialisation of Sheffield , but also the development of a city, the growth of the nations in North and South America and the movement from rural to urban life. ', Further-

'. B & J SIPPEL LTD, Sheffield. Sipelia Cutlery Works, Cadman Street/Blast Lane, Sheffield. Founded in the 1930s by Benno (died 1946) and J. Sippel, two Jewish brothers relocated from Germany to Sheffield in 1931. The factory was still active in the 1950s (closed c. 1960/1970). '

See also the Emmaus website which provides some further information about the building-

It was Grade II listed on 13th June, 1988 and, quite rightly so. The final traction shot, taken at the same bridge, now in gathering dark cloud, with sun lighting up the yellow front panel, is a Northern class 144, also heading into Sheffield on the 2R25 service from Adwick, the low mid-day sun is helping with the colourful surrounds again, particularly on that football club related gable-end. The blue gable-ends of the building showing in front of the D.M.U. on the left-hand canal bank, are those of 'Taylor Forgings Canalloy Steels Ltd', on Bernard Road and the building on the right now looks to be derelict and unused. With heavy clouds rolling in and a shot from the Cadman Street bridge looking directly east with the 'Veolia Recycling Centre' and its tall white chimney standing prominent on the right and all the other elements mentioned in the last few shots, now darkly visible, its time to depart the area and, show one last shot.

This was taken in an ad-hoc way on the way back home and shows an advertising awning I had seen a few days before and took a quick snap on the phone as a reminder, but now, with the proper camera to hand, with focus and exposure set, I had only to hope that the traffic lights at the BnQ store on Penistone Road would be at red so I could compose the shot calmly without being a traffic hazard. Fortunately, the tail-back of stationary traffic was just long enough to place me right in front of the hoarding and with a Mercedes Smart Car at the left, adding that bit extra Va-va-voom!! I still think the poster is amusing and well designed.. and seems to fit right in, in this environment, maybe you had to be there .


The Digital Sculpture Project

As in the case of several of Rome's other so-called "bad emperors," much nonsense has been written about Caligula and his supposed insanity, not to mention the claim that he believed that he was a "living god." [1] These views have been expressed not only by ancient detractors of the emperor but also by modern biographers and writers of historical fiction they crop up in the popular press, film, and television programs, which have a strong tendency to sensationalize stories for a public that enjoys hearing about the excesses and eventual comeuppance of the "rich and infamous." This phenomenon was as true in antiquity as it is today and is perhaps best exemplified in the writings of the Roman biographer Suetonius, whose biographies of the first twelve emperors might be regarded as antiquity's version of the tabloid press. For Suetonius and other ancient historians (especially ancient biographers influenced by epideictic rhetoric), the value of writing history and biography often had more to do with teaching moral lessons and, in the case of the Caesars, establishing what constituted "good" or "bad" leadership rather than investigating, let alone arriving at, historical truth or reality.

Perhaps more shocking than the writings of ancient biographers are the attempts by modern scientists and medical practitioners to diagnose the cause and nature of the insanity attributed to Caligula, as though his being clinically insane was an indisputable historical fact and not an ancient fiction created by his detractors or by those seeking an explanation for his extravagant behavior. In the same vein, even some art historians have claimed to be able to detect a touch of insanity in ancient portraits of the emperor, such as the famous marble head of Caligula in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen, because of the odd look created by the remains of paint in only one of his eyes (fig. 1).

Fig. 1 Portrait of Caligula, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen: Photo author

As related to me by a former Curator of Classical Antiquities at the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, museum docents will often say to Danish school children when viewing this portrait of Caligula, "Doesn't he look crazy?" Although many of the stories told about Caligula that are supposed to prove his insanity are wonderfully entertaining and titillating, they have, in my view, little to do with the historical reality of his mental stability or lack thereof. [2] Unlike most authors of this ancient and modern pulp fiction, Anthony Barrett tried, and, I believe, largely succeeded in, separating fact from fiction in his excellent book Caligula: The Corruption of Power, first published in 1989. [3] In this endeavor, other historians, such as Sam Wilkinson and Aloys Winterling, have followed Barrett in recent years. [4] Caligula's lack of preparation for the power that was thrust upon him, coupled with serious character flaws, spelled disaster for those with whom he needed to cooperate in order to govern effectively, a failure that ultimately cost him his life.

Those who have studied Julio-Claudian portraiture know well that there are many problems in identifying the various members of this complex imperial family, whose portraits show a strong resemblance to one another not only physiognomically but also with respect to their iconographic hairstyles. Perhaps one of relatively few secure image of Caligula before he became Princeps is his representation on the magnificent Grand Camée de France in the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris (fig. 2a-b). [5]

Fig. 2a Grand Camée de France, Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris: After Megow (1987) pl. 33.5 Fig. 2b Detail of figure of Caligula: After Megow (1987) pl. 33.5

Here Caligula appears as a boy in the presence of an enthroned Tiberius and Livia and other members of the Julio-Claudian house, including his then deceased father, Germanicus, and two older brothers, Nero Iulius and Drusus Iulius. The depiction of Caligula wearing armor and military boots reflects the story of how he received his nickname "Little Boot" from his father's soldiers because he was dressed like a common soldier wearing little military booties, or caligulae, the Latin diminutive form of caligae (Suet. Calig. 9). In many of Caligula's images, including his boyhood representation on the Grand Camée de France (fig. 2b), his hair forks over his forehead, a feature shared with portraits of Tiberius as Princeps (e.g., fig. 3) [6] and of his very popular father Germanicus (e.g. fig. 4), [7] not to mention with his two older brothers, Nero Iulius (fig. 5a-b) [8] and Drusus Iulius (fig. 6a-b). [9]

Even in Caligula's later portraits, after he succeeded Tiberius as Princeps, it is sometimes difficult to identify Caligula solely on the basis of facial features since there is at times considerable diversity in his imagery not only in Rome (e.g., fig. 7), [10] but especially in the provinces of the Empire (e.g. a portrait from Mustis in North Africa—modern Tunisia, fig. 8). [11]

For this reason, Caligula's iconographic hairstyle, especially with regard to the arrangement of the fringe of locks over the forehead, is of great importance in identifying his portraits. Although the configuration of locks is by no means identical in all respects in images of a given portrait type, hairstyles were generally far easier to carve in marble than facial features (even by less talented sculptors), and they therefore provide an important index for identifying portraits.

My focus here is on the "image" of Caligula as transmitted to us by not only the ancient visual evidence, consisting largely of sculpture and coinage, but also the literary sources representing the views of his detractors. Although sculptural portraits of Caligula have come down to us, none has been found in association with his inscribed name. Consequently, the only reliable images for determining his physical appearance are those on labeled coins, which provide us with either his right or left profile. [12] These numismatic profile views can be compared with sculptural portraits-in-the-round to establish the identity of the imperial personage represented. [13] Though representations of Caligula in the form of portraits must also certainly have existed, none has survived from antiquity. [14]

Whether numismatic or sculptural, the extant portraits of Caligula and other members of the imperial family ultimately reflect, to some degree, a three-dimensional "Urbild," or prototype, for which the individual presumably sat. [15] These prototypes, which were probably first produced in clay, no longer survive, but they would have been used for terracotta or plaster models that would presumably have been made available by imperial agents for distribution throughout the Empire, both through military channels and via the "art market." [16] However, there is no surviving material evidence for these putative plaster or terracotta casts of Roman portraits. [17] Other types of models may also have been distributed via the art market. One possibility not considered in the past is the dissemination of painted wax face-mask models, though we have no direct evidence for this either. [18]

Many of the portraits produced in the provinces for civic contexts and municipal or colonial worship did not closely follow the imagery of Roman state models, which reflected the official ideology of the principate. Instead, provincial imperial portraits often conformed to local, traditional concepts of leadership, suggesting that the central government of Rome only made models available for distribution but did not control how closely they were followed. [19] Local social pressures would nevertheless have assured that the imperial image was both dignified and appropriately displayed. In other areas of production, there is reason to believe that the central government, through its agents, did play a direct role in disseminating imperial images, including determining how they would look (as in the case of state coinage, which was under the direct control of the Princeps). [20] The involvement of imperial agents would likely have also been necessary, for example, when there was a need to make imperial images available rather quickly to the military throughout the Empire. [21] These images were undoubtedly required in military camps in administering the loyalty oath (sacramentum) to a new Princeps and/or, when necessary, to his officially designated successor. [22]

The imperial image before which soldiers usually swore their oath -- at least initially to a new Princeps -- probably took the form of a small bronze imago clipeata ("shield portrait") or some sort of small bust applique like that attached to the military standard (signum) carried in battle, or it may even have been a small bust affixed to the top of a plain pole as a finial. Such standards and poles were also used in parades and kept in the shrine (sacellum or aedes) of a military camp along with portrait statues of the Princeps (and his designated successor), images of the gods, and other military insignia. [23] Thus, represented on the Severan Arch of the Argentarii in Rome is a Praetorian standard with attached small busts of Septimius Severus (below) and his young son and designated successor Caracalla (above)(fig. 9a-b). [24]

Fig. 9a Praetorian standard from the Arch of the Argentarii, Rome: Courtesy H.R. Goette Fig. 9b Detail of fig. 9a showing the image of Caracalla (above) and Septimius Severus (below): Courtesy H.R. Goette

An actual small bronze bust of Caligula with battered facial features, which had been thrown into the Tiber (fig. 10), may have once served as a bust-decoration for an actual military standard, perhaps even (given its provenance) of the Praetorian Guard in Rome, or it may have been used as a finial-ornament affixed to the top of a pole. [25]

Fig. 10 Bronze bust of Caligula with battered face, Swiss Private Collection: After Boschung (1989) pl. 27.1

A passage in Tertullian (Apol. 16.8) indicates that soldiers swore by military standards: religio Romanorum tota castrensis signa veneratur, signa iurat, signa omnibus deis praeponit ("the religion of the Romans, entirely [a religion] of the camp, venerates the standards, swears oaths by them, and places them before all the gods"). Such oath swearing would be understandable in view of the decoration of standards with imperial images. Like coins, small bronze imagines could be reproduced in great numbers and quickly distributed to the armies throughout the Empire. This practice may be implied in a passage in Tacitus' Annales (Ann. 1.3) in which Augustus' adopted son and designated successor, Tiberius, who had tribunician power and imperium over the provinces equal to that of Augustus, was shown (i.e., in effigy) to all the armies: filius [Tiberius], collega imperii, consors tribuniciae potestatis adsumitur omnes per exercitus ostentatur. Needless to say, Tiberius could not have personally gone around to all the armies throughout the Empire after being officially designated Augustus' successor, so the passage must refer to his image in one form or another, which could have been easily and quickly distributed to them.

Although not true portraits, small idealized representations of Augustus' Genius were given by Augustus along with statuettes of his Lares to all the vici ("districts") of the city of Rome, as we know from Ovid (Fasti 5.145-146): Mille lares geniumque ducis, qui tradidit illos,/ Urbs habet, et vici numina trina colunt ("The city has a thousand Lares and the Genius of the leader [Augustus], who handed them over, and the vici worship three divinities (numina) [i.e., the two Lares Augusti and the Genius Augusti of each vicus]"). The need to distribute rapidly so many statuettes after Augustus' reinstitution of the Lares cult in Rome suggests that they, too, would have been mass-produced in bronze. [26] Moreover, whether small bronze representations of the new Princeps for the armies or figures of Augustus' Genius for the many vici of the city of Rome, the dissemination of images in a relatively short period of time would have required organization, suggesting, as in the military, the direct role of the central government and its agents. This would also have been true in the case of the distribution of life-size models in plaster or terracotta to meet the great demand of cities and municipalities to honor a new Princeps by setting up his image in many different contexts. Therefore, the degree to which the central government and its agents were involved in the dissemination of the imperial image in the early Empire must have depended on for whom and for what purpose the image was destined.

The portraits of Caligula that have come down to us -- regardless of the medium of the models upon which they were based --– reflect, to varying degrees, a given lost prototype and so are designated replicas, variants, free adaptations, or transformations based on how closely each extant image resembles its presumed Urbild. [27] Needless to say, such a taxonomic, or typological system, can be subjective. Of the thousands of images of Caligula in all media that must have once existed during his principate, only a small fraction -- mostly numismatic and sculptural portraits -- now survive. Among the fifty or so non-recut portraits of Caligula that have been recognized (aside from those on coins), there are a few small bronze busts, several cameos, and a couple of glass-paste medallions. [28] A good number of Caligula's portraits were also recut into images of his imperial predecessors or successors, sometimes in a more obvious fashion than others. [29] The re-cutting of a portrait of one imperial personage into an image of another, usually, but not exclusively, as a result of some sort of memoria damnata, is a well-known phenomenon in Roman portraiture that is treated by Eric Varner in this collection of essays. [30]

One of the reasons that there is some diversity in facial features, as well as in given iconographic hairstyles, is that marble or other types of stone images were rarely copied exactly in Roman antiquity. [31] Variation in imagery can also be ascribed to (1) the competence of the sculptor, (2) his interest -- or lack thereof -- in reproducing faithfully all the details of an original model, (3) his adherence to local workshop practices and traditions, and (4) any need to adapt an image reflecting the official ideology of Rome to one reflecting local or regional notions of how a leader should appear. [32] The diversity among the resulting sculptural images of a given imperial personage that we find throughout the Empire also confirms that the government of Rome did not require rigid adherence to a given prototype, although a great many artists were capable of producing close copies. Diversity, too, is in keeping with Roman custom, which respected the established cultural traditions of the many peoples who made up the Empire, especially if they showed the same respect for the traditions and values of Rome. Over the course of the life of a given Princeps, there were often several principal portrait types that might be created. Sometimes new types were produced with some slight change in the facial features because of idealizing tendencies in portraiture, but more often the changes can be found in the arrangement of the hair locks, especially the configuration of the fringe of locks over the forehead. The motivation for the creation of a new official iconographic hairstyle was generally to celebrate some important event or situation in the life of a prominent individual. [33]

In the principal study of Caligula's portraiture, Die Bildnisse des Caligula, published in 1989, Dietrich Boschung concluded that during Caligula's short-lived principate of just under four years, only one official chief portrait type, or "Haupttypus," was produced. According to Boschung, the majority of Caligula's surviving sculptural images, including several variants and cameos, reflect only this single principal type. [34] In addition to his Haupttypus, Boschung believed that there once existed a secondary type, which he termed a "Nebentypus," created after the "Haupttypus." According to Boschung, the Nebentypus can be further divided into two groups, the first made up of three marble replicas, one small bronze bust, one cameo, and two glass-paste medallions [35] , while the second group consists of just two marble portraits. [36] Because of the subjective nature of this approach to sculpture, portrait specialists are not always in agreement as to what constitutes a given portrait type or how great a divergence there needs to be to justify the designation of another type. In typological portrait studies, a given type is determined by a great degree of correspondence of details among several extant heads of high quality which were generally produced in the leading workshops in and around Rome. These ateliers presumably followed more closely than provincial workshops the imperially commissioned prototype in terracotta or plaster, which reflected the official ideological concept of how a Roman leader should appear to the citizenry. [37]

By comparing all existing sculptural images of Caligula, Boschung concluded that five high quality extant portraits constitute the core group of Caligula's "Haupttypus." One of the best representatives of his Haupttypus is a portrait in Schloss Fasanerie near Fulda, Germany (fig. 11a-b). [38]

This head, which probably came from Rome, [39] possesses certain facial characteristics that are commonly shared with other members of the Julio-Claudian house. Among these features, the most dominant family traits are the wide forehead and the bird-like mouth with a recessive lower lip. This core group of portraits gives us an idea of what the now lost prototype in Rome looked like. It should also be pointed out that the head of the magnificent, high quality Caligula statue in Richmond's Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, presumably from an imperial shrine of the Sodales Augustales Claudiales at Bovillae (click here for images of the VMFA Caligula), [40] constitutes, according to Boschung, part of a secondary group of five portraits closely associated with one another but somewhat less closely related to the Schloss Fasanerie core group. [41] The facial features of the Richmond and Schloss Fasanerie portraits are fairly close, though the shape of the face of the Schloss Fasanerie head tends to be somewhat more elongated, and there are minor differences in the hairstyles of the two portraits.

As for Boschung's "Nebentypus," or secondary type, there are substantial differences from the principal type, especially in the configuration of the fringe of locks over the forehead (the "Nebentypus" lacks a major forking of the hair locks towards the middle of the forehead exhibited by the "Haupttypus"). Instead, in the "Nebentypus," there is a fringe of distinctive comma-shaped locks brushed to the right side across the middle of the forehead with a forking of the locks usually to the far left side of the forehead. This iconographic lock configuration is to be found in a magnificent high quality head in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek (fig. 12a-b) [42] and in other portraits of this type, including those in the Yale University Art Gallery in New Haven (fig. 13a), [43] the Museo Archeologico dei Campi Flegrei in Baia (fig. 14a-b [Skizze 31]), [44] and the Museo Civico in Fossombrone (fig. 15a-b). [45]

Fig. 12a Head of Caligula, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, Copenhagen: Photo author Fig. 12b Hair scheme of head of fig. 12a: After Boschung (1989) 41, Skizze 17

Fig. 13a Head of Caligula in the Yale University Art Gallery: Photo author Fig. 13b Hair scheme of fig. 13a: After Boschung (1989) 38, Skizze 30

Fig. 14a Head of Caligula in the Museo Archeologico dei Campi Flegrei, Baia: Photo author Fig. 14b Hair scheme of fig. 14a: After Boschung (1989) 58, Skizze 31

This important difference from the "Haupttypus" in the arrangement of the fringe of hair locks is significant enough, in my view, to constitute an independent principal portrait type and one with sufficient replicas to further justify its designation as a second type (Princeps Type II). [46]

Because of the larger number of extant replicas of the Schloss Fasanerie Haupttypus exemplified by the Schloss Fasanerie head, I agree with Boschung in seeing this as Caligula's first type, created to celebrate his becoming Princeps on 18 March in the year 37 CE at the age of 25 -- hence its alternate designation, the "Accession" type. The greatest number of portraits of any given Princeps will generally be created at the very outset of his principate, when the need to represent the new head of state throughout the Empire was most exigent. Although Caligula's principate was very brief, [47] there was an important sequence of events that took place during his time in power that may have resulted in the creation of a second portrait type (Type II), as reflected in, among others, the Ny Carlsberg head and the Richmond Caligula. About six months into his principate, Caligula fell gravely ill and nearly died. [48] During this critical time, there was an overwhelming outpouring of affection and concern for the popular young leader, not just in Rome but throughout the Empire. In their prayers to the gods, some even vowed to fight as gladiators or offered their own lives if he were spared (Suet. Calig.14.2 Philo leg. ad Gai 15-21). Caligula's recovery, probably by the second half of October of 37 CE, [49] caused great jubilation and was regarded as guaranteeing the safety and stability of the Empire. To celebrate and formally commemorate his restoration to health and the quelling not long after of a suspected conspiracy against him during his illness, [50] it is quite possible that a new portrait type (Princeps Type II) was created that could also be designated his "Salus Augusti" type. [51]

Based on the small number of surviving portraits of Caligula's second type, it appears that it never supplanted in popularity his first portrait type (Princeps Type I = Boschung's "Haupttypus"), probably because in the first (or "Accession") type, Caligula's distinctive hairstyle was intentionally made to ressemble that of his father, the beloved and dashing young military commander Germanicus (fig. 4), who died at the age of 33 in the year 19 CE. Indeed, Caligula's great popularity among the Roman people is attributable in part to the fact that he was the son of Germanicus. Interestingly, Caligula's Princeps Type I portrait appears also to resemble Tiberius' last portrait type, which I have designated Tiberius' "Second Princeps" type (fig. 3). [52] It would seem, then, that Caligula's Princeps Type I portrait was intended to recall not only his father Germanicus but also the continuity of the principate after the death of his great-uncle Tiberius. Although the reclusive Tiberius was himself not much loved by the urban populace of Rome, it was continuity in leadership and the survival of the Julio-Claudian house that mattered most in the ideology of the early empire. The fact that Caligula's Princeps Type II did not supplant his Princeps Type I would indicate again that the imperial government did not attempt to control the choice of types throughout the empire.

An official type obviously represented the Princeps as he wished to appear, not necessarily as he actually looked in life. For example, although Augustus died at the age of 76, all of his portraits show him as more-or-less eternally youthful. [53] In other words, the official Augustan portrait type (or types), representing the "public face" of the Princeps - the face of imperial power - was intended to underscore the stability and enduring nature of the principate, now under the leadership of Augustus' Julio-Claudian successors. Without the evidence of photography, it is of course impossible to know how a person from antiquity actually looked, but it is safe to say that the arrangement of natural hair locks into a fixed iconographic schema, which scholarship tends to fixate on in modern portrait studies in determining who's who, could hardly have been maintained in everyday life (a fact that is generally overlooked in discussions of Roman hairstyles). [54] Therefore, the public face of the leader, with his iconographic hairstyle, was more important than his actual physical appearance. In a vast empire in which few would have ever seen the Princeps in person, it was the portrait image with accompanying identifying label – whether on coinage or in some other medium – that became, in effect, the palpable, physical manifestation of the Princeps, not only to Roman citizens but also to the other peoples of the Empire. [55]

Caligula's official sculptural image obviously presents him as a rather handsome youth in his twenties, reflecting his actual age during his principate. However, descriptions of him in the literary record paint a very different picture, not only of his physical appearance but also of his character. [56] If the few sources that survive are to be believed, Caligula was rather ugly looking or, I should say, as ugly as his character was judged to have been. [57] Although it is said that he could be generous and merciful, he is also described – and probably rightly so – as arrogant, self-important, jealous, cruel, and tyrannical. Such negative traits are not in themselves indicative of clinical insanity, [58] since they are attributed even to the Jewish god Yahweh in the Old Testament.

One of the consequences of the biased, negative portrayals of Caligula in the literary sources, notably Seneca and Suetonius, was that early on in the study of Caligula's portraits, some researchers refused to believe that the "distinguished and friendly" looking portraits that had been correctly identified as Caligula on the basis of numismatic evidence really represented him: after all, the sculptural heads did not match the literary sources, which claimed he was quite ugly. [59] Unfortunately, one of the best Roman historians, Tacitus, says nothing of Caligula's appearance, at least in those pages of his Annales for the principate of Caligula that have survived. Nonetheless, although Tacitus is generally more reliable than other ancient sources, he is hardly unbiased. It is therefore interesting that he does not specifically say that Caligula was insane. Instead, Tacitus characterizes Caligula as ingenio mobili ("fickle by nature" Agr. 13), which would also explain his comment that Caligula's turbata mens ("troubled mind," Ann. 13.3) did not impair his power of speech. Caligula's traits of being arrogant, emotional, petulant, and rash were flaws that he seems to have shared, in part, with his parents. His father Germanicus had acted rashly at times while his mother Agrippina Maior was known for her arrogance and sharp tongue -- personality flaws that ultimately led to her demise. [60] Caligula's fickle nature also accords well with his antics and passion for pantomime, in which a male actor - in this case Caligula - might play the roles of a man, a woman, a god, or a goddess and dress in some rather outlandish costumes. Caligula's theatrical role-playing, however, was not designed for general public consumption but was done in private displays. [61] Much can be explained about Caligula if one separates his public and private actions and forms of representation. For example, on his official coinage, he is always shown appropriately dressed without any of the trappings of divinity that are attributed to him. [62] This, too, is the way he is represented in his image in the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts (click here for images). The titulature on his official coinage is also in keeping with the best official imperial traditions and shows none of the megalomania attributed to him by those who defamed him in their negative literary portrayals. [63] Caligula, thus, presents a case in which historians would do well to assess the literary record against the archaeological, which often presents a somewhat different view of the past, one that is more nuanced.

To understand, in part, how and why Caligula's physical appearance was construed negatively in the ancient literary tradition, we must examine the influence of the Greek pseudo-science of physiognomics on the ancient historical and biographical sources, especially in the thinking and writings of his detractors. Physiognomic theories, which were adopted by the Romans from the Greeks, go back to at least the fifth century BCE and are perhaps best known today from an ancient tract known as the Physiognomica, a work once attributed to Aristotle. More likely, however, this treatise was a third-century BCE creation produced by Aristotle's school of philosophy. [64] This ground-breaking work of nonsense was highly influential for such later Greek writers as Polemon of Laodicea, who lived in the second century CE and also wrote a tract on physiognomics, now known by its Latin title, De physiognomonia. [65] These pseudo-scientific studies maintained that a person's outward appearance could reveal his true nature and inner character. In short, they proposed that there is a definable relationship between what individuals looked like and how they behaved. One of the first proponents of this theory was Zopyrus in fifth century BCE Athens. [66] It is unfortunate that no one in antiquity bothered to test these physiognomical theories out on the image and character of the philosopher Socrates, whose genius and inner beauty were trapped in an outer shell of ugliness: in at least two of his portrait types that have come down to us, he resembles a silenos, or satyr, a likeness that is confirmed by those who personally knew and admired him, namely Plato (Symp. 215-222) and Xenophon (Symp. 5.7). [67] Although physiognomic theory fell out of favor in the Middle Ages, it was revived by the Swiss poet, theologian, and physiognomist Johann Kaspar Lavater in the eighteenth century in his work Physiognomische Fragmente zur Beförderung der Menschenkenntnis und Menschenliebe (Leipzig 1775–1778). [68] Through Lavater and other thinkers and "scientists" of the nineteenth century, the ancient pseudo-science of physiognomics came to play an indirect role in the development of pseudo-scientific theories about racial superiority, culminating in the racist views of the Nazis among others.

Under the influence of physiognomic theory, an ancient author writing about an imperial figure might omit or alter in some way an inconvenient detail about a physical trait if it did not fit the actual or invented character of that individual. For example, although the Roman biographer Suetonius comments on the eye color of certain emperors, he does not report on the eye color of Augustus, whom Suetonius believed to have an excellent character. [69] The eye color of Augustus was certainly known and is preserved in Pliny the Elder's encyclopedic work, the Historia Naturalis (11.143). According to Pliny, the eyes of Augustus were glauci, which most likely means a light sea-gray. [70] The word glaucus is obviously related to glaucoma, the Latin term for cataracts of the eye, [71] in which the opacity of the lens becomes a light gray. This is also the color of the sea when the sky is gray and the sun shines on it. According to some ancient physiognomists, gray eyes were indicative of either a person lacking in humanity and inflexible in nature, or of one who was timid and fearful (Polemon De physiog. 39) [72] -- hardly characteristics that Suetonius would want to attribute to the divine Augustus, whose character he otherwise extolls. Instead, Suetonius reports in his Life of Augustus (79) that Augustus' eyes were "clear and bright/piercing" (oculos habuit claros et nitidos), "in which [Augustus] wished to have it believed that there was a certain divine power" (quibus etiam existimari volebat inesse quiddam divini vigoris). Therefore, Augustus' eyes were probably a piercing light gray color, as in a simulated image of Augustus (fig. 16) based on a portrait in the Munich Glyptothek. [73]

Fig. 16 Simulated portrait of Augustus based on a portrait of Augustus in the Munich Glyptothek (modified by the author): Photo Francis de Andrade.

Suetonius' characterization was undoubtedly intended to evoke the image of Alexander the Great, whose eyes were said to be "melting" and "limpid," [74] a description mirroring his divine-given charisma. In the case of Caligula, on the other hand, neither Suetonius nor any of his other critics mentions his eye color, which may have been blue-gray (or caesius in Latin), [75] since this color of the eyes was apparently a dominant Julio-Claudian family trait, as we know specifically in the case of Tiberius (Pliny, HN. 11.142) and Nero (Suet. Nero. 51). In his Life of Caligula, Suetonius notes only that Caligula's "eyes and temples were deep-set" (oculis et temporibus concavis). Interestingly, in physiognomic theory, blue-gray eyes were associated with keen night vision (Pliny, HN 11.142-43). None of the surviving literary sources indicates the color of Caligula's hair, though it may have been brown to light brown, not unlike that of Augustus and Nero, both of whom were said to have hair that was subflavus, which is probably to be understood today as "dirty blond" (e.g., fig. 16). [76] However, this is only an educated guess because of the difficulty in translating ancient color descriptions into modern equivalents. [77]

Fig. 17 Colorized image of the digital model of the Richmond Caligula slightly modified by author. Image: created by Matthew Brennan, Virtual World Heritage Laboratory.

In another example from ancient physiognomic theory, an ill-proportioned body was regarded as indicative of a rogue, whereas a well-proportioned body was characteristic of an upright and brave man. Hence, Augustus is described by Suetonius (Aug. 79) as having a body that was "extraordinary and most attractive throughout his life" (forma fuit eximia et per omnes aetatis gradus venustissima). By contrast, Suetonius (Calig. 50) describes Caligula as "very tall, with an ill-proportioned body and a complexion that was exceedingly pale. His neck and legs were very thin" (statura eminenti, colore expallido, corpore enormi, gracilitate maxima cervicis et crurum). [78] Suetonius (Calig. 50) declares further that Caligula's "face was by nature dreadful and ugly (vultum vero natura horridum ac taetrum) and [he] made it even more so by his practicing all sorts of terrible and fearsome expressions in a mirror" (etiam ex industria efferabat, componens ad speculum in omnem terrorem ac formidinem). If the mirror story is true, it is understandable that such a young Princeps would want to practice looking serious and stern, even fearsome, in a mirror. Such a torvitas, or fearsome look, was also cultivated by the young Augustus, as evidenced in his early portraiture. [79] Even Winston Churchill was said to have practiced grimacing in a mirror, undoubtedly to make himself seem more serious and formidable, or as the British might say, bull-doggish. [80]

Suetonius also mentions Caligula's "wide and dreadful forehead and hair that was thin and gone on top of his head, but hirsute elsewhere" (fronte lata et torva, capillo raro et circa verticem nullo, hirsutus cetera). Caligula's "wide and dreadful forehead" was considered to be indicative of harshness, shamelessness, avarice, madness, and stupidity the sparseness of the hair on his head, of libidinous temperament, duplicity, and depravity his hairy body, of treachery, avarice, and libido. [81] Because of all these features, he could be compared to a goat (Pseudo-Arist. 808b), an animal which -- like the hirsute, goat-legged satyr -- was known for its wanton sexual behavior. Any mention of a goat in Caligula's presence was supposedly -- or at least according to his detractors -- treated as a capital offense (quacumque de causa capram nominare, criminosum et exitiale habebatur Suet. Calig. 50). Caligula's ill-proportioned body, deep-set eyes, and thin neck and legs may also have evoked images of a panther (Pseudo-Arist. 809b-810a), a secretive, deceitful, and stealthy animal, [82] while his paleness was taken as an indication of lust (Pseudo-Arist. 808b) and cowardice (Adamantius Phys. B 33). [83] The association of Caligula with a goat or a panther would have reflected the fact that in the study of physiognomics it was common to compare men with animals considered to possess traits that were either positive or negative. Thus, the physical human qualities of both Augustus and Alexander were described as like those of a lion, the noblest of all animals, [84] while Caligula was compared with animals regarded as having negative characteristics.

Since the physical description of Caligula in the written record has been transmitted to us by his detractors, it cannot be relied upon uncritically in trying to determine his true physical appearance. What can we therefore reasonably conclude about what he looked like? The height of the fringe of locks worn on his forehead in his official portraiture suggests some thinning of the hair. Other traits indicated by the literary sources are that he was on the tall side, slender in build, and most likely had a somewhat fair complexion. In the colorization of the three-dimensional models of Caligula, only his fair complexion is relevant. In the case of the Richmond Caligula, there were no traces of pigment found on the parts of the marble that represent flesh, nor were any pigments found on his hair or in the irises of his eyes, so we cannot know how these vital parts of his body were rendered in this particular statue. [85] Even if we did find traces of color, we cannot assume that this coloration would have accurately represented Caligula's actual appearance, for art -- more often than not -- is different from reality.

Attempts have also been made recently to reconstruct the polychromy of the famous portrait of Caligula in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in two colorized copies in Carrara marble, Version "A" (fig. 18) [86] and Version "B" (fig. 19). [87]


Fig. 18 Colorized Version "A" of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek Caligula: After Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. ( 2010) 218 Fig. 19 Colorized Version "B" of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek Caligula: After Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. ( 2010) 228

Although traces of pigments have been found on the hair and face of the Ny Carlsberg head, we cannot be sure of the final look of this portrait: We do not know how these traces of paint might have been combined with other pigments that no longer survive to produce the subtle tonalities in representing flesh, hair, and eyes that we would expect in such a high quality work of art. And even if the colorization of the improved reconstructed model "B" were more-or-less correct, this does not mean that all the polychrome replicas set up throughout the Empire were uniform in their coloration. Again, the diversity of ways in which the portrait features and hairstyles are rendered in Caligula's portraiture argues against any such uniformity.

Based on Version "B" of the Ny Carlsberg Caligula, I have produced a computer-generated Version "C" (fig. 20) in which the skin tone of the earlier versions has been lightened to reflect the fact that ancient descriptions indicate that Caligula had a somewhat fair complexion, although he probably was not as excessively pale as his critics would have us believe in order to suggest that he was cowardly.

Fig. 20 Colorized Version "C" of the Ny Carlberg Glyptotek Caligula (Version "B" modified by author): After Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. (2010) 228

I also changed the color of the irises of his eyes from brown to blue-gray, based on what may have been a family trait, as far as we can determine from the ancient sources characterizing this color as caesius. The most recent technical analysis indicates that there was a concentration of the pigment Egyptian blue in the area of the pupil and iris of the right eye of the Ny Carlsberg head (fig. 21). [88]

Fig. 21 Image indicating distribution of glowing white particles of Egyptian Blue on the Ny Carlsberg Caligula: After Sargent and Therkildsen (2010) fig. 11

The Egyptian blue, however, was a foundation layer. The pigments that were ultimately used above this layer to create the color of the iris have not been established. A bronze bust of Caligula in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York (fig. 22) with a blue-gray iris in his proper right eye and a somewhat brighter bluish or bluish-green iris in his proper left eye initially appeared to support the idea of Caligula's eyes having been blue-gray, but a recent technical analysis of the eyes of this portrait proved inconclusive with regard to the original color of the irises. [89]

Fig. 22 Bronze bust of Caligula in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York: Photo author

In Version "C" (fig. 20), it is not my intent to show how this particular sculpture must have once looked, although this may well be an accurate reconstruction of its coloration. I am more interested in suggesting how a high quality official portrait model from Rome might have appeared, based on both actual traces of paint on the Ny Carlsberg head and what we can glean from the biased accounts of his appearance in the ancient sources. If any image fairly accurately reproduced Caligula's skin, hair, and eye colors in polychrome sculptural portraits, then surely it would have been an officially commissioned prototype, presumably produced by a leading Roman workshop. In addition, I have had reproduced another computer-generated version of the Richmond portrait (Fig. 17), [90] which reflects the same changes as my Version "C" of the Ny Carlsberg head (fig. 20). [91] These new versions of Caligula's portraits should be thought of as only two among a number of many possibilities, based on all our existing "paradata," to borrow a term from Bernard Frischer in this symposium. [92] In short, such polychrome reconstructions can only be educated guesses, since so few traces of ancient pigment on a given work have come down to us and since so much remains unknown. As I like to tell my students, the study of the past is like looking at a slice of Swiss cheese, which not only has many holes in it, but irregular ones at that!

* I dedicate this article to John D. MacIsaac, a former graduate student of mine at Johns Hopkins University in the 1980s, who after receiving his Ph.D. went on to teach at several institutions of higher education, including the University of Mary Washington until his retirement in 2007. Above all, John had a passion for numismatics. Among his contributions to the field was his work on the coins at Nemea (Greece), published with R.C. Knapp in Excavations at Nemea III: The Coins (Berkeley 2005). Always helpful, kind, and a pleasure to be with, John will be greatly missed.

Note: All translations of Latin are by the author.

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Footnotes

[1] See Chapter VIII, "The 'Insanity' of Caligula or the 'Insanity' of the Jews? Differences in Perception and Religious Beliefs," in Pollini (2012) 369-411. For the confusion between worshiping the Genius or Numen of the living Princeps (emperor) and worshiping the living person, see also in this same work Chapter VII, "The Smaller Cancelleria ('Vicomagistri') Reliefs and Imperial Julio-Claudian Imperial Altars: Limitations of the Evidence and Problems in Interpretation," 309-68.

[2] See further Chapter VIII (n. 1 above) in Pollini (2012).

[4] See, for example, Wilkinson (2005), especially his excellent concluding chapter (187-94) "Inventing the Mad Emperor, " and Winterling (2011). For a different point of view, see in this symposium Vasily Rudich's paper, "On the Reputation of Little-Boots."

[5] There has been little agreement in the past on the cast of characters on this great cameo. See now especially Megow (1987) 202-207 (cat. A 85) pls. 32.5-10, 33.1-5 Boschung (1989) 64-68 Giard (1998) Giuliani and Schmidt (2010).

[6] For Tiberius: Pollini (2005), especially Types I and VI, fig. 2.

[7] The closest parallel for the entire fringe of hair of Caligula's boyhood portrait is that of his father Germanicus on the Gemma Augustea: Megow (1987) 8-9, pl. 6.5-6 Pollini (1993) 268. This Gemma portrait of Gemanicus is his first known portrait type ("Adoption" type), which dates to 4 CE. The forking of the hair over the center of the forehead is also to be found in Germanicus' third portrait type, the so-called "Gabii" type, most likely created at the outset of the Principate of Caligula (here fig. 4). This portrait type of Germanicus was probably intended to resemble Tiberius' last portrait type (in my opinion, the "Chiaramonti" type (Type VI here fig. 3), created around 31 CE), and Caligula' first type (here fig. 12a-b), created in 37 upon his accession as Princeps. For Tiberius' "Chiaramonti" type, see Pollini (2005) 59, fig. 2, 66-68, pl. 12.3,4. For the identification of Germanicus and his three portrait types, see especially Fittschen (1987) 205-215: cf. Boschung (1993a) 59-61 Rose (1997) 64-65.

[8] Distinguishing the portraiture of Germanicus (15 BCE-19 CE) and that of his two older sons, Nero Iulius (ca. 6-31 CE) and Drusus Iulius (ca. 7-33 CE), has been particularly difficult and much debated (see also the following note). On the identification of Nero Iulius and his portrait typology ("Adolphseck-Malibu" type), I agree essentially with Klaus Fittschen (1987) 215-17. Cf. Boschung (1993a) 64-65 Rose (1997) 66-67. In my opinion, this type agrees with the portrait of Nero Iulius on the Grand Camée de France (armored figure in front of Tiberius): See Fittschen (1987) 216-17, fig. 43 (detail). For the Grand Camée, see n. 5 above. A pronounced hooked nose is one of the characteristics of Nero Iulius' portrait, which is paired with that of his brother Drusus Iulius on provincial coins of Tiberian date: See especially a coin of Aphrodisias: See Stucchi (1987) 54-55, fig. 1d (senior member of the paired images Nero Iulius on left junior partner Drusus Iulius on right).

[9] For the identification of Drusus Iulius and his portrait typology ("Corinth-Stuttgart" type), I would agree in general with Fittschen (1987) 217-18 cf. Boschung (1993a) 66-67 Rose (1997) 66-67. A portrait statue of Drusus Iulius (Germanici) from the Augusteum, or imperial cult shrine, in ancient Rusellae, now in the Museo Archeologico in Grosseto, may be identified as that of Drusus Iulius, if an inscription with his name from the same context can be associated with this image (a portrait of his brother Nero Iulius was presumably also once represented in the same group of imperial figures). For this statuary "cycle," see now Boschung (2002) 69-76 (the portrait that I take as Drusus Iulius, Boschung (70) considers to be Nero Iulius: no. 20.6, pl. 60.2). For the inscription with Drusus Iulius' name, see 71 (no. 20.27). By comparison with Nero Iulius' nose with its pronounced hook (here fig. 5b), that of Drusus Iulius has only a slight bump (here fig. 6b), discernible in the figure of Drusus Iulius (armored figure behind Tiberius) on the Grand Camée: For detailed views of these figures, see Fittschen (1987) fig. 43 (Nero Iulius), 45 (Drusus Iulius) Megow (1987) pl. 32.10 (Nero Iulius), pl. 33.3 (Drusus Iulius). This difference can also been seen on the provincial Tiberian coin from Aphrodisias cited in the previous note.

[10] From the Tiber, now in the Museo Nazionale Romano al Palazzo Massimo (inv. 4256): Boschung (1989) 112 (cat. 19) pls. 19.1-4.

[11] Institut National d'Archéologie et d'Art (Tunis): Pollini (1982) 6, fig. 12 Boschung (1989) 110-111 (cat. 14), pls. 14.1-4. For the diversity of Augustus' portraits throughout the Empire, see Pollini (1999) 731. Over 250 portraits of Augustus have come down to us.

[12] For his coinage and for images of Caligula in right and left profile views, see H.-M. von Kaenel in Boschung (1989) 15-26, pls. A-E.

[13] Further evidence can be provided by imperial symbols, such as the corona civica (oak crown) or the detection of traces of Caligula's portraiture (usually his iconographic hairstyle) in heads that were recut into images of his predecessors Augustus and Tiberius or his successor Claudius. See further Boschung (1989) 29 with nn. 15-17.

[14] For portraits in the form of paintings, see Pollini (1987) 11. We also know of a colossal 120-foot-high painting on linen of Nero (Plin. HN 35.51). In addition, there are many funerary portraits on wood from Fayum: see, e.g., Walker (20002*). For a painted wooden disc of Septimius Severus and his family (with the face of Geta as a boy erased after his later damnation by his brother Caracalla) in the Staatliche Museen zu Berlin (Altes Museum): Kraus (1967) 214 (cat. 156) fig. 156 Kunze et al. (1992) 306 (cat. 168) color image.

[15] For portrait typology and associated problems in general, see Pollini (1999) with further bibliography.

[16] See Pollini (1987) 2-3, n. 11 and (1999) 731 with further bibliography. We have no direct evidence for how this process actually worked, at least in the early Empire, though there are a number of literary and inscriptional references to the distribution and reception of imperial portraits during the late Empire, especially from the fourth century on: See Ando (2000) especially 228-32. There is evidence, moreover, for plaster casts being used for the making of large-scale three-dimensional models of Greek "Idealplastik": See Landwehr (1985) and recently Zevi et al. (2008) 80-116.

[17] In the past, a terracotta head of Drusus Minor in the Louvre had been taken as a possible workshop model, based on its odd-looking, wide-splayed base. Even traces of pigment were reportedly found on this head. See Mus. inv. CA2987: Charbonneaux (1954) 331-33, pl. 72 Fabbrini (1964) 304-26 Kiss (1975) 99, figs. 312-13 Kersauson (1986) 168-69 (cat. 78). However, based on thermoluminescence analysis at C2RMF (National lab) by Antoine Zink in 2004 (1906-1952 AC), it was determined by the conservation department of the Louvre that this terracotta head was not ancient. I thank Ludovic Laugier in Conservation at the Louvre for this information.

[18] As suggested recently to me by Jan Stubbe Østergaard. These would presumably be like the wax ancestral masks of the Roman nobility that were life-masks. For these wax ancestral masks, see Chapter I, "Ritualizing Death in Republican Rome: Memory, Religion, Class Struggle, and the Wax Ancestral Mask Tradition's Origin and Influence on Veristic Portraiture," in Pollini (2012) 13-68.

[19] See in general, for example, Zanker (1983).

[20] A distinction should be made between imperial imagery found on coinage of the Roman State and that on municipal or provincial coinage. See Pollini (1990) and Chapter II, "The Leader and the Divine: Official and Nonofficial Modes of Representation," in Pollini (2012) 69-132. With regard to the debate about who was responsible for the selection of coin types, as well as their intent, see especially Sutherland (1976) 5-33.

[21] Zanker (1983) does not talk about the direct involvement of imperial agents in the distribution of non-numismatic imperial portrait images to the armies of the Empire, but only sees distribution through the art market, stating (8-9), "Die Verbreitung selbst scheint von den Kaisern nicht zentral organisiert gewesen, sondern wohl auf dem Wege des Kunsthandels und der Verbindung der Werstätten untereinander erfolgt zu sein. Dabei kann man auch an Agenten denken, die die Werkstätten von Rom aus unter Billigung des Kaisers belieferten."

[22] See Pekáry (1985) 43 with further bibliography.

[24] Bonanno (1976) 147-49, fig. 284. For other similar imperial images on standards in Roman relief art, see Riccardi (2002) 97-98. I thank H.R. Goette for allowing me to use images of the standards on the Arch of the Argentarii (my fig. 8a-b) and for allowing me to read a lecture of his, "The Portrait Representation of the Emperor Caligula Caius Iulius Caesar Germanicus."

[25] For this small bronze bust in a Swiss private collection (height: 9.7 cm), which H. Jucker had proposed might have once been part of a Roman standard, see Boschung (1989) 91, 115 (cat. 30) pl. 27.1-4. As H.R. Goette suggested (see previous note), the type of cuirass (lorica plumata or squamata) worn by Caligula in this bust may have some reference to the Praetorian Guard. For representations of small metal busts of emperors decorating Roman standards and as finials atop poles, see Riccardi (2002) especially 94-99 and fig. 23.1.

[26] See Chapter VII "The Smaller Cancelleria ('Vicomagistri') Reliefs and Julio-Claudian Imperial Altars: Limitations of the Evidence and Problems in Interpretation," in Pollini (2012) 309-68, especially 311-15.

[27] With regard to this process, see Pollini (1999) with further bibliography.

[28] For these sorts of images, see in general Boschung (1989).

[29] For some of these recut images of Caligula, see the catalogue entries in Boschung (1989). See also Varner (2004) 23-34. For the removal or preservation ("warehousing") of Caligula's portraits, see 35-45. Varner (38-39) assumes that Caligula's images, even small bronzes that might have been set up in domestic shrines, would have been removed after his assassination (39): "Following his downfall in 41, it would no longer have been permissible or even desirable to display portraits of Caligula in either sacra privata or sacra publica." Some of the small bronze busts were indeed cast into the Tiber, as noted above (with n. 27). However, I am not sure how extensive this practice was. We know, for example, that portraits of Brutus and Cassius were still displayed after their deaths. As in the case of admirers of the assassins of Caesar, Caligula would have had his devoted followers after his death (as also Nero), especially since Claudius himself refused to condemn the memory of Caligula. In fact, Caligula's continued popularity in certain circles of society may in part have been why Claudius did not have Caligula's memory officially damned. See also Varner (2004) 42-44, who notes that some of Caligula's images were allowed to stay on display in group dedications with portraits of other family members.

[31] On the copying process, see in general Rockwell (1993) 118-125, especially 122. See also Pollini (1999) 731.

[32] See, e.g., Pollini (1987) especially 8-17 with further bibliography Pollini (1999) especially 723.

[34] See Boschung (1989) 29, 31-58.

[37] See further Pollini (1999) 723-35.

[38] Boschung (1989) 32-35, 108 (Cat. 5) pl. 5.1-4 Hoff and Dobler, edd. (2005) 28-29 (cat. 3).

[39] Based on the style of the head and the strong connections of the collector, Landgraf Philipp von Hessen, with Italy and Rome in particular: Hoff and Dobler, edd. (2005) 11-23.

[40] See the paper in this symposium by Maria Grazia Picozzi, "The Modern History of the Richmond Caligula." Epigraphical evidence (fragments of fasti of the Sodales Augustales Claudiales) were found in the same building where the statue was found. This structure was probably the Sacrarium Gentis Iuliae ("Shrine of the Gens Iuliae") dedicated by Tiberius in 16 CE with a statue of Divus Augustus (Tac. Ann. 21: sacrarium genti Iuliae effigiesque divo Augusto apud Bovillas dicantur). On this imperial cult building at Bovillae, see further in this symposium Paolo Liverani's paper, "Caligula: Notes and an Hypothesis on the Context." As was customary, over time portraits of other members of the imperial house were added to these shrines. See further Liverani and the joint paper by Jan Stubbe Østergaard, "Reflections on the Typology and Context of the Richmond Caligula."

[41] Mus. inv. 70-20: Boschung (1989) 38-39, 109-110 (cat. 11) pls. 42.1-4, 43.

[42] For the Ny Carlsberg head (inv. 2687), which presumably comes from Istanbul, see Boschung (1989) 29, 41-43, 111-12 (cat. 18) pls. 17, 18.1-4 Johansen (1994) 136-37. Since Istanbul is the center of the art market for antiquities in Turkey, it is possible that the head came from there rather than from Italy, as C. Vermeule once believed purely based on style: Vermeule (1981) 387, no. 2. In any case, Boschung does not take this image as belonging to his Nebentypus, but considers it instead to be a variant and "Typenklitterung" of his Haupttypus. In my opinion, this portrait stands closer to his Nebentypus than his "Haupttypus," or what I consider Caligula's second portrait type.

[43] Mus. inv. 1.1963: Boschung (1989) 116-17 (cat. 37) pls. 31, 32.1-3.

[44] Mus. inv. 151073 (= Antiquario Flegreo 68): Boschung (1989) 117 (cat. 38) pl. 33.1-4 Zevi et al. (2008) 341.

[45] Boschung (1989) 117 (cat. 39) pl. 34.1-4.

[46] See also Boschung's conclusion (1989) 101.

[47] See Barrett (1989) 54 for Caligula's becoming Princeps for his death, 169-71. For a useful time-line of events in Caligula's short Principate of approximately three years and 10 months (18 March 37 to 22 or 24 January 41): Barrett (1989) xiii.

[48] Barrett (1989) 73 estimates that Caligula's illness took place after September 21, when the Senate gives him the title of Pater Patriae.

[50] The conspiracy was suspected to have taken place during his illness and to have centered on Caligula's adopted son Gemellus and Caligula's father-in-law Silanus, who met their deaths by the end of 37: Barrett (1989) 74-75.

[51] By the time of the Principate, the salus of the State came to be equated with the valetudo ("health") of the Princeps. On this point, see Winkler (1995) 40-4, 48-9. Boschung (1989) 102, however, suggested the possibility that his "Nebentypus" might have celebrated Caligula's acceptance of the title "Pater Patriae" in September of 37, though he had become de facto Pater Patriae when he became Princeps.

[52] See Pollini (2005) 67-68, fig. 2 (Type VI).

[53] See Boschung (1993b) Pollini (1999).

[54] One clear exception being a wig, which was sometimes used by imperial women and represented in Roman art, especially from the Flavian - Trajanic periods, when beehive-like hair bonnets were popular. Some wig-like hair pieces were carved separately and could be added (or exchanged) in portrait heads. See, e.g., Fittschen in Fittschen and Zanker (1983) 83 (cat. no. 113), pls. 142-43.

[55] For inscribed imperial statue bases, see in general Højte (2005). For portraits statues in context, see Fejfer (2008).

[56] For the ancient sources, see nn. 2-3 Evans (1969) 54-55.

[57] The earlier contemporary sources are especially now known from the second century CE biographer Suetonius' Life of Caligula (50). See further Wardle (1994) 323-30.

[58] See Chapter VIII (n. 1 above) in Pollini (2012), which among other things presents a new interpretation of Caligula's decree to have a statue of himself set up in the Temple of the Jewish god in Jerusalem that is very different from what has been proposed before. Contrast this view with the paper presented by Steven Fine in this symposium, "Caligula and the Jews: Some Historiographic Reflections Occasioned by Gaius in Polychrome."

[59] For the evolution of the study of Caligula's portraiture, going back to the time of J.J. Bernouilli, see Boschung (1989) 28-29.

[61] On his dress and playing roles in pantomime, see Chapter VIII (n. 1 above) in Pollini ( 2012) 377-79.

[63] For the titulature on his official coinage, see in general H.-M. von Kaenel in Boschung (1989) 15-26 with further bibliography.

[64] This work may have been attributed to Aristotle, who was apparently receptive to this theory, as indicated in a passage in his Prior Analytics (2.27). For this treatise and those of others mentioned below, see in general Evans (1969).

[65] Evans (1969) 5, 8, 10-17 et passim.

[66] See Evans (1969) 6, 10, 13, 42-43. Zopyrus is also mentioned by Phaedo of Elis, who was said to be an expert in this art.

[67] See Richter (1965) 109-119 and (1984) 198-204. Zopyrus, who knew Socrates personally, was aware of his physical appearance, but we unfortunately have no idea how his character and physical appearance were ever reconciled in the views of the physiognomists.

[68] See in general Shookman (1993).

[70] This may also be the explanation for Suetonius' comment (Aug. 79) below.

[71] For both glaucus and glaucoma, see OLD 766.

[72] Scriptores Physiognomonici Graeci et Latini (ed. R. Foerster, Leipzig 1893) I.246: Glaucus in oculo color defectum humanitatis et indolis rigorem indicat. Si stibini coloris est, morum lenitatem notat. Oculi autem (sic) animalia feri duri glauci sunt circuris animalis, quod benigni animi est, oculi stabini sunt coloris. Glauci qui ad albedinem virgunt timiditatem et metum indicant.

[73] I thank Joseph Geranio for bringing to my attention this simulated head of Augustus, created by Francis de Andrade. I have altered somewhat the background and color of the eyes of the simulation.

[74] Plut. Mor. De Alex. fort. 335B. See also Stewart (1993) 37.

[76] Suet. Aug. 79, Ner. 51.

[77] For the subject of color and the rhetoric of color in Roman literature, see in general Bradley (2009). This study is important for our understanding of ancient perceptions, semantic associations, and linguistic nuances as transmitted by a Latin color vocabulary which can at times be imprecise and difficult to interpret in modern Western terms.

[78] For the effect of physiognomic theory on Suetonius in particular, see Couisson (1953) 234-56 Wardle (1994) 326 Varner (2004) 246 with n. 13.

[79] See especially Octavian's expression in his third portrait type, the so-called "Alcudia" type: Pollini (1999) 729-30.

[80] According to Lord Moran: See Wardle (1994) 329.

[81] For these characteristics, see further Wardle (1994) 328-29 with ancient sources.

[82] See Evans (1969) 55 Wardle (1994) 327-28.

[83] See Wardle (1994) 327 Evans (1969) 54-55.

[84] See Evans (1969) 54. Cf. Pseudo-Arist. 813b 814a.

[85] See the report by Mark Abbe in this symposium.

[86] Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. ( 2010) 218.

[87] Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. ( 2010) 228. See also Pollini (2012) 397-99.

[88] See the latest preliminary report on the analysis of the traces of pigment on the Ny Carlsberg Caligula: Sargent and Therkildsen (2010) 11-26, especially 14, 20, 23-24, figs. 9-10, and especially 11 with caption. In fig. 11 the concentration of Egyptian blue (EB) can be seen in both the area of the pupil and the iris of the right eye. In the report, however, only the concentration of EB is mentioned for the pupil, not the iris, but as one can clearly see from fig. 11, EB also extends onto the iris. The person reporting may have been influenced by the fact that the pupil of the real human eye tends to be more or less in the middle of the eye, where we see the concentration of the EB. However, in ancient painting as well in sculpture, the pupil is usually represented higher up and slightly under the upper lid, as in the colorized images of Caligula. This was an artistic convention that is not accurate in the real world. EB would have served as an undercoat for the black pigment of the pupil and been mixed with other more fugitive pigments to produce a blue-gray iris. The reported traces of reddish-brown and pink madder lake were probably used in the outer edge of the iris. I thank Jan Stubbe Østergaard for bringing this report to my attention and for discussing with me the pigments found on the Ny Carlsberg Caligula. Testing of the traces of pigments found on this portrait of Caligula is ongoing. For previous analysis of the pigments of this sculpture, see also the collection of essays in Brinkmann and Scholl, edd. (2010) 219-25 (J. Stubbe Østergaard) 226-35 (H. Stege, I. Fiedler, U. Baumer). It had been previously reported (p. 235) that a microscopic trace of brown ochre was found in the iris of the left eye.

[89] Mus. inv. 23.160.23 ht. 25.5cm. The color of the irises that I report here is based on my personal examination of this bronze portrait while on display in the museum. Cf. Lahusen and Formigli (2001) 129 (Cat. 71), figs. 71.1-4, who thought the eyes were green ("grün"). In the recent examination of the eyes carried out at The Sherman Fairchild Center for Objects Conservation at the Metropolitan Museum, the following summary was reported to me (2/15/12) by Conservator Dorothy Abramitis: "Non-invasive x-ray fluorescence analysis of the eyes found that it is most likely that the lens of the iris was a colorless glass, thus any hue would have been caused by the material behind and/or surrounding the lens. However, the present blue/grey coloration of the proper right eye and the bright blue-green of the proper left eye is most likely an alteration due to the corroded state of the surrounding material. At this time we are not able to determine the original color of the iris." I would like to thank Dorothy Abramitis, as well as Mark T. Wypyski and Federico Caro of the Department of Scientific Research, for carrying out this technical examination on short notice. I am also grateful to Carlos Picón, Head Curator of the Department of Greek and Roman Art, for granting permission to undertake this analysis and to Curator Christopher S. Lightfoot for his assistance. I also thank Mark Abbe for discussing with me technical aspects of this bronze bust and of the marble portrait of Caligula in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, which he examined.

[90] I thank Matthew Brennan for creating a computer version of the Richmond Caligula with a lighter complexion, lighter hair color, and blue-gray irises. I have made slight alterations in the colorization of this image.

[91] I have slightly lightened the complexion and hair in Version "B" of the Ny Carlsberg head, as well as changed the color of the irises from brown to blue-gray for didactic purposes.

The Digital Sculpture Project is an activity of the Virtual World Heritage Laboratory.


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The idea of a museum seems somewhat superfluous in Rome, a city that is itself a work of art. Monuments abound and famous paintings and statues can be seen—for free!—in several churches and basilicas around the city. But Rome is also home to some of the finest museums in the world, and this is not even counting the Vatican museum, which I will discuss in a later post.

I only went to two museums while in Rome, but they were two of the best museums I have had the pleasure of visiting. So, without further ado:

The Borghese Gallery

The first thing you must know about the Borghese Gallery is that you need to get tickets in advance if you want to have any shot of getting inside. (Go to the website to get them.) If you do not, your only remaining option is to stand by the entrance, offering to buy tickets from passersby, like I saw a few ragged tourists doing on my way inside. This is not the strategy I would recommend.

Your ticket will come with a specific date and time. You need to collect your ticket half an hour before entering or it will be canceled (that is what it says on their website, but I am not sure this policy is enforced) and you only have about an hour and a half to see the museum. This is more than enough time, however, since the museum is fairly small.

The Borghese Gallery originated as the private collection of Scipione Borghese (1577 – 1622), a Cardinal and nephew of Pope Paul V (there was a lot of nepotism in those days), who was a Caravaggio collector and a patron of Bernini. The beautiful building did not originate as a museum, but as the Cardinal’s villa its garden is still known as the Villa Borghese, and is now perhaps the finest park in Rome.

I arrived at the museum hungry, sweaty, and stressed out. Every time I have to be a new place on time—be it a job, a date, or a museum—I panic and arrive very early. Today was no different by the time I got there, I still had an hour to kill.

I tried strolling around the park, which is lovely, but eventually the Roman sun and humidity overwhelmed me, so I gave up and sat down on a bench. An American family chatted on my left (about gelato, if memory serves), and a group of young Chinese people chatted on my right (probably about gelato, too, but I can’t be sure).

Finally it was time for me to go inside. It is an extremely well-organized place, with tight security. They made me check my small bag, for example, but the line to drop off and pick up my bag moved very quickly. Soon I was about to enter, congratulating myself on buying a ticket early, eager to enjoy the fruits of my rare foresight.

I nearly gasped the first time I stepped inside the museum. Like so many Italian interiors, the space is staggeringly lush. The walls, ceiling, and floor are exquisitely decorated: doorways are framed by columns of fine marble and golden capitals a delicately carved frieze of mythological figures runs along the upper walls the ceiling is trimmed with gold and covered in neo-classical designs inspired by Pompey’s mosaics. Everything shines and sparkles and glitters, overwhelming you with prettiness but, even more so, with opulence. Borghese was a rich man.

The museum is divided into two floors: the first is mostly for statues, the second for paintings. Each floor is not terribly large, but each room is so packed with art, great art, that you can hardly give anything the time it deserves.

Like many people who visit the gallery, I was most interested in seeing the Bernini sculptures, since he’s one of my favorite sculptors. If you have any interest in Bernini, you can’t find anyplace more rewarding to visit than the Borghese Gallery. Almost every room on the first floor has a masterpiece by Bernini sitting right in the center.

The Bernini statue that greets you upon entry is The Rape of Proserpina. Though it is incredible to believe, Bernini completed this technical tour de force when he was only 23, while I am sitting here at 25 writing this blog. It depicts the moment when Hades (Pluto), god of the underworld, abducted Persephone (Proserpina) to be his queen in the underworld.

(The myth is literally a classic: Hades rips through a hole in the ground and abducts Persephone when she’s gathering flowers. Persephone’s mother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, seeks high and low to find her and in her grief, she neglects her duties as goddess, letting crops wither and die. Zeus, seeing this, eventually intervenes, forcing Hades to return Persephone to her mother. Unfortunately for Persephone, however, she ate some pomegranates, fruit of the underworld, and for this reason she must return a part of each year to spend time with Hades. During these months, Demeter is so upset that she again neglects her duties as goddess of the harvest and this is why we have winter every year.)

The sculpture depicts the moment when Hades grabbed Persephone to whisk her away into his dark underworld. Bernini, as usual, seems to transcend the limitations of sculpture, creating a scene of dramatic action rather than stable form. The bearded, crowned, and burly Hades is picking up Persephone and pulling her towards him. She is obviously not pleased with this: her body is turned violently away, her hand pushing on Hades’s forehead, her face filled with terror. For his part, Hades looks rather pleased.

The technical excellence of this sculpture is seen most impressively by looking at Hades’s hands gripping Persephone’s back and leg. Bernini has somehow rendered in stone the effect of hands pressing on soft skin. Looking closely at this, it is easy to forget that you are looking at sculpted marble, so anatomically perfect is every detail. I cannot help imaging that, if I were to touch the statue, I would feel the warmth of living flesh.

The next outstanding Bernini sculpture is his David. Here Bernini captures the moment when David is winding up his body to launch his stone at Goliath. The sculpture was, like so many of Bernini’s, a radical departure from previous efforts. Compare, for example, Michelangelo’s David. That Renaissance statue is perfect form, standing stable and erect, motionless and pure. Bernini’s statue, by contrast, is all fire and energy, drama and movement, contortion and stress.

Two aspects of the statue stick out in my impressions. First is the expression on David’s face: eyebrows knit, squinting with concentration, biting his lips. No photograph of any athlete in motion has better captured the mixture of focus and effort that all skilled physical activity requires. Next I would call your attention to the rope of David’s sling: two narrow bands of marble, floating miraculously in mid-air. How on earth did he acquire such enormous technical facility?

The last Bernini sculpture I will mention here—though there are others—is his Apollo and Daphne.

It is worth recounting the myth before seeing the work. Cupid, the eternal trouble-maker, shoots Apollo one day and causes him to fall in love with Daphne, a nymph who is repelled by men. Apollo pursues her, promising everything and more, and Daphne flees. When Apollo is about to catch her, Daphne prays to her father, the river-god Peneus, to destroy her beauty. Like any good father, he promptly turns his daughter into a tree. In Ovid’s famous poem, The Metamorphoses, this story is given as the origin of the laurel tree.

Bernini’s sculpture captures this moment, as Apollo is on the verge of capturing the nymph, and the nymph is mid-transformation. Daphne’s fingertips are sprouting leaves branches grow from her thighs her legs are disappearing into a tree trunk. Apollo seems to be unaware of this transformation on his face he wears a serene, joyful expression. The nimble god’s pose is as light as a ballerina’s, almost as if he as flying. Daphne is a study in contrast. Her body is twisted violently away, struggling to escape his grasp, and on her face she wears a look of horror.

Perhaps at this point it would not be out of place to say a few words on Bernini in general. In technical facility he is unsurpassed nobody disputes this. But what of his artistic aims? He is drawn to action rather than form, to motion rather than meditation. His statues lack classic grace but make up for it in their exuberance and vitality. True, there is something superficial about his art. Many of his sculptures seem like the Baroque equivalent of special effects, meant to dazzle but not to move the viewer and this was in keeping with the spirit of times, when egregiously rich cardinals would vie with each other to commission the most extravagant art. And yet the surfaces of Bernini’s art are so staggering and magnificent that all misgivings about “deeper” meaning are shushes into silence.

The first level also contains several splendid paintings by Caravaggio. There is Boy with a Basket of Fruit, St. Jerome Writing, and David with the Head of Goliath. I particularly like the latter painting, since it exhibits Caravaggio’s talent for gruesome, gritty, and human depictions of Biblical scenes.

The second floor of the museum is mostly dedicated to paintings. It is a bit disappointing to move from the splendid decoration and several masterpieces of the first floor to this comparatively subdued level. This is not to say that it is not also a storehouse of riches and treasures. There are many wonderful paintings, too many to adequately view in one sitting, the most outstanding of which is Raphael’s Entombment, depicting the burial of the dead Christ.

I walked and looked and walked and looked, until my eyes hurt from squinting, and my brain, overwhelmed with art, gave up the ghost. There are few museums in the world that can compete with the Borghese Gallery for elegance and taste.

Palazzo Massimo alle Terme

The Museo Nazionale Romano (National Roman Museum) has several branches around the city. The most famous of these is the Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, located near Rome’s central Termini station, which houses an impressive collection of ancient artifacts.

I went fairly late in the afternoon on a Saturday, in the height of the tourist season. Nevertheless the museum was nearly empty very often I was alone with the collection. This is a shame since, as I will venture to show, this is a museum well worth visiting, especially considering the modest price of admission and its central location.

The majority of the museum’s outstanding works can be found on the first floor (second floor for Americans). This floor is overflowing with portrait busts and sculptures—of gods, goddesses, heroes, emperors, senators, mythological creatures, philosophers, athletes, and everyday people—some of them larger than life, others small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

The piece I was most excited for was Boxer at Rest. I had first seen this statue in my introductory art history class, and was lucky enough to have seen it in person at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where it was on loan. This was the very first time it was displayed in the United States.

It is a bronze sculpture, made by the lost-wax technique out of eight separate pieces that were later joined together. Its subject matter is, unsurprisingly, a boxer at rest. This boxer does not look like he’s having a good day. He is naked except for a pair of boxing gloves, made from rope and leather. He seems to have just completed a fight. The poor man is stooped over his face is covered in scars his nose is broken he has cauliflower ears and drops of blood trickle down his arms and legs.

In this one sculpture, we can see how far the Hellenistic Greeks were from the mentality of the Golden Age Greeks and their idealized human forms. Far from calm and ideal, this athlete is battered, bruised, and ugly. His head is twisted around to one side, as if somebody had just called his name but the pose looks so uncomfortable and unnatural that it reminds me of Rodin’s work. As I look into the shadows of his eye sockets, buried underneath is knit brows, I feel a mixture of admiration and pity for the man, for his resilience and his pain.

It is nearly impossible to believe that this magnificent sculpture was made in ancient times, before even the birth of Christ. There is a gritty, evocative, expressive quality of the work—the aging boxer, past his prime, pushing his injured body past its limits—that is strikingly modern. I suppose there really is nothing new under the sun.

Several other works are worth mentioning in passing. There are many vases, sarcophagi, and fragments of walls with wonderful sculptures in relief, including the Portonaccio Sarcophagus. There is the Aphrodite of Menophantos, the nude goddess of love shyly covering her private parts, as if embarrassed, but with a serene expression on her face. There were also busts of Socrates and Epicurus that I quite enjoyed.

Several essays could be written on any of the pieces in the collection but here I will only pause to reflect on one more, the Discobolus. This is a Roman copy in marble of a Greek original in bronze, by the famous sculpture Myron (c. 480 – 440 BCE). The subject of the statue is an athlete, as usual nude, throwing a discus. His body is wound up to its maximum and he is about to reverse directions and release.

This sculpture dates from a much earlier period than the Boxer at Rest, and presents a striking contrast of mentality. Although the athlete’s body is doubtless under a tremendous about of strain, his face is emotionless and blank. He stares placidly at the viewer, his vacant eyes giving the impression that his mind is totally elsewhere, on a different plane, a realm of pure thought and idea. He seems to be so totally absorbed in the act of throwing that he feels no strain.

This is Greek idealization at its finest. There is not a flaw on his body. His muscles are not even tensed. Most striking, however, is the impression of stability that the sculpture conveys. Although the athlete is in mid-motion, it does not invite the viewer to imagine him coming to life and completing the throw. We are, rather, bidden to contemplate the perfection of the athlete’s body, the harmony of his pose, the calmness of his gaze. It is as if the flesh has been sublimated into pure thought.

A contrast with Bernini’s David might be appropriate here. Although both works portray a man about to launch a projectile, Bernini’s work is all fire and movement, while Myron’s is as still and lifeless as ice. The Classic Greeks are always there to remind us that passion and realism are not necessary, nor even always desirable, for great art.

The second floor of the museum is devoted to frescoes, stuccos, and mosaics. Although beautiful as works of art, these are, to me, more fascinating as windows into Roman life, since many originated as decorations in the homes of wealthy Romans. Wandering around this floor, it is easy to imagine that you stumbled into a Roman villa, full of images of sea monsters, gods, and strange beasts.

This does it for my experience of Rome’s museums next I will discuss Rome’s ancient ruins.


Roaming in Rome: Museums

This is Part Four of a six-part series on Rome, following this plan:

The idea of a museum seems somewhat superfluous in Rome, a city that is itself a work of art. Monuments abound and famous paintings and statues can be seen—for free!—in several churches and basilicas around the city. But Rome is also home to some of the finest museums in the world, and this is not even counting the Vatican museum, which I will discuss in a later post.

I only went to two museums while in Rome, but they were two of the best museums I have had the pleasure of visiting. So, without further ado:

The Borghese Gallery

The first thing you must know about the Borghese Gallery is that you need to get tickets in advance if you want to have any shot of getting inside. (Go to the website to get them.) If you do not, your only remaining option is to stand by the entrance, offering to buy tickets from passersby, like I saw a few ragged tourists doing on my way inside. This is not the strategy I would recommend.

Your ticket will come with a specific date and time. You need to collect your ticket half an hour before entering or it will be canceled (that is what it says on their website, but I am not sure this policy is enforced) and you only have about an hour and a half to see the museum. This is more than enough time, however, since the museum is fairly small.

The Borghese Gallery originated as the private collection of Scipione Borghese (1577 – 1622), a Cardinal and nephew of Pope Paul V (there was a lot of nepotism in those days), who was a Caravaggio collector and a patron of Bernini. The beautiful building did not originate as a museum, but as the Cardinal’s villa its garden is still known as the Villa Borghese, and is now perhaps the finest park in Rome.

I arrived at the museum hungry, sweaty, and stressed out. Every time I have to be a new place on time—be it a job, a date, or a museum—I panic and arrive very early. Today was no different by the time I got there, I still had an hour to kill.

I tried strolling around the park, which is lovely, but eventually the Roman sun and humidity overwhelmed me, so I gave up and sat down on a bench. An American family chatted on my left (about gelato, if memory serves), and a group of young Chinese people chatted on my right (probably about gelato, too, but I can’t be sure).

Finally it was time for me to go inside. It is an extremely well-organized place, with tight security. They made me check my small bag, for example, but the line to drop off and pick up my bag moved very quickly. Soon I was about to enter, congratulating myself on buying a ticket early, eager to enjoy the fruits of my rare foresight.

I nearly gasped the first time I stepped inside the museum. Like so many Italian interiors, the space is staggeringly lush. The walls, ceiling, and floor are exquisitely decorated: doorways are framed by columns of fine marble and golden capitals a delicately carved frieze of mythological figures runs along the upper walls the ceiling is trimmed with gold and covered in neo-classical designs inspired by Pompey’s mosaics. Everything shines and sparkles and glitters, overwhelming you with prettiness but, even more so, with opulence. Borghese was a rich man.

The museum is divided into two floors: the first is mostly for statues, the second for paintings. Each floor is not terribly large, but each room is so packed with art, great art, that you can hardly give anything the time it deserves.

Like many people who visit the gallery, I was most interested in seeing the Bernini sculptures, since he’s one of my favorite sculptors. If you have any interest in Bernini, you can’t find anyplace more rewarding to visit than the Borghese Gallery. Almost every room on the first floor has a masterpiece by Bernini sitting right in the center.

The Bernini statue that greets you upon entry is The Rape of Proserpina. Though it is incredible to believe, Bernini completed this technical tour de force when he was only 23, while I am sitting here at 25 writing this blog. It depicts the moment when Hades (Pluto), god of the underworld, abducted Persephone (Proserpina) to be his queen in the underworld.

(The myth is literally a classic: Hades rips through a hole in the ground and abducts Persephone when she’s gathering flowers. Persephone’s mother, Demeter, goddess of the harvest, seeks high and low to find her and in her grief, she neglects her duties as goddess, letting crops wither and die. Zeus, seeing this, eventually intervenes, forcing Hades to return Persephone to her mother. Unfortunately for Persephone, however, she ate some pomegranates, fruit of the underworld, and for this reason she must return a part of each year to spend time with Hades. During these months, Demeter is so upset that she again neglects her duties as goddess of the harvest and this is why we have winter every year.)

The sculpture depicts the moment when Hades grabbed Persephone to whisk her away into his dark underworld. Bernini, as usual, seems to transcend the limitations of sculpture, creating a scene of dramatic action rather than stable form. The bearded, crowned, and burly Hades is picking up Persephone and pulling her towards him. She is obviously not pleased with this: her body is turned violently away, her hand pushing on Hades’s forehead, her face filled with terror. For his part, Hades looks rather pleased.

The technical excellence of this sculpture is seen most impressively by looking at Hades’s hands gripping Persephone’s back and leg. Bernini has somehow rendered in stone the effect of hands pressing on soft skin. Looking closely at this, it is easy to forget that you are looking at sculpted marble, so anatomically perfect is every detail. I cannot help imaging that, if I were to touch the statue, I would feel the warmth of living flesh.

The next outstanding Bernini sculpture is his David. Here Bernini captures the moment when David is winding up his body to launch his stone at Goliath. The sculpture was, like so many of Bernini’s, a radical departure from previous efforts. Compare, for example, Michelangelo’s David. That Renaissance statue is perfect form, standing stable and erect, motionless and pure. Bernini’s statue, by contrast, is all fire and energy, drama and movement, contortion and stress.

Two aspects of the statue stick out in my impressions. First is the expression on David’s face: eyebrows knit, squinting with concentration, biting his lips. No photograph of any athlete in motion has better captured the mixture of focus and effort that all skilled physical activity requires. Next I would call your attention to the rope of David’s sling: two narrow bands of marble, floating miraculously in mid-air. How on earth did he acquire such enormous technical facility?

The last Bernini sculpture I will mention here—though there are others—is his Apollo and Daphne.

It is worth recounting the myth before seeing the work. Cupid, the eternal trouble-maker, shoots Apollo one day and causes him to fall in love with Daphne, a nymph who is repelled by men. Apollo pursues her, promising everything and more, and Daphne flees. When Apollo is about to catch her, Daphne prays to her father, the river-god Peneus, to destroy her beauty. Like any good father, he promptly turns his daughter into a tree. In Ovid’s famous poem, The Metamorphoses, this story is given as the origin of the laurel tree.

Bernini’s sculpture captures this moment, as Apollo is on the verge of capturing the nymph, and the nymph is mid-transformation. Daphne’s fingertips are sprouting leaves branches grow from her thighs her legs are disappearing into a tree trunk. Apollo seems to be unaware of this transformation on his face he wears a serene, joyful expression. The nimble god’s pose is as light as a ballerina’s, almost as if he as flying. Daphne is a study in contrast. Her body is twisted violently away, struggling to escape his grasp, and on her face she wears a look of horror.

Perhaps at this point it would not be out of place to say a few words on Bernini in general. In technical facility he is unsurpassed nobody disputes this. But what of his artistic aims? He is drawn to action rather than form, to motion rather than meditation. His statues lack classic grace but make up for it in their exuberance and vitality. True, there is something superficial about his art. Many of his sculptures seem like the Baroque equivalent of special effects, meant to dazzle but not to move the viewer and this was in keeping with the spirit of times, when egregiously rich cardinals would vie with each other to commission the most extravagant art. And yet the surfaces of Bernini’s art are so staggering and magnificent that all misgivings about “deeper” meaning are shushes into silence.

The first level also contains several splendid paintings by Caravaggio. There is Boy with a Basket of Fruit, St. Jerome Writing, and David with the Head of Goliath. I particularly like the latter painting, since it exhibits Caravaggio’s talent for gruesome, gritty, and human depictions of Biblical scenes.

The second floor of the museum is mostly dedicated to paintings. It is a bit disappointing to move from the splendid decoration and several masterpieces of the first floor to this comparatively subdued level. This is not to say that it is not also a storehouse of riches and treasures. There are many wonderful paintings, too many to adequately view in one sitting, the most outstanding of which is Raphael’s Entombment, depicting the burial of the dead Christ.

I walked and looked and walked and looked, until my eyes hurt from squinting, and my brain, overwhelmed with art, gave up the ghost. There are few museums in the world that can compete with the Borghese Gallery for elegance and taste.

Palazzo Massimo alle Terme

The Museo Nazionale Romano (National Roman Museum) has several branches around the city. The most famous of these is the Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, located near Rome’s central Termini station, which houses an impressive collection of ancient artifacts.

I went fairly late in the afternoon on a Saturday, in the height of the tourist season. Nevertheless the museum was nearly empty very often I was alone with the collection. This is a shame since, as I will venture to show, this is a museum well worth visiting, especially considering the modest price of admission and its central location.

The majority of the museum’s outstanding works can be found on the first floor (second floor for Americans). This floor is overflowing with portrait busts and sculptures—of gods, goddesses, heroes, emperors, senators, mythological creatures, philosophers, athletes, and everyday people—some of them larger than life, others small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.

The piece I was most excited for was Boxer at Rest. I had first seen this statue in my introductory art history class, and was lucky enough to have seen it in person at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where it was on loan. This was the very first time it was displayed in the United States.

It is a bronze sculpture, made by the lost-wax technique out of eight separate pieces that were later joined together. Its subject matter is, unsurprisingly, a boxer at rest. This boxer does not look like he’s having a good day. He is naked except for a pair of boxing gloves, made from rope and leather. He seems to have just completed a fight. The poor man is stooped over his face is covered in scars his nose is broken he has cauliflower ears and drops of blood trickle down his arms and legs.

In this one sculpture, we can see how far the Hellenistic Greeks were from the mentality of the Golden Age Greeks and their idealized human forms. Far from calm and ideal, this athlete is battered, bruised, and ugly. His head is twisted around to one side, as if somebody had just called his name but the pose looks so uncomfortable and unnatural that it reminds me of Rodin’s work. As I look into the shadows of his eye sockets, buried underneath is knit brows, I feel a mixture of admiration and pity for the man, for his resilience and his pain.

It is nearly impossible to believe that this magnificent sculpture was made in ancient times, before even the birth of Christ. There is a gritty, evocative, expressive quality of the work—the aging boxer, past his prime, pushing his injured body past its limits—that is strikingly modern. I suppose there really is nothing new under the sun.

Several other works are worth mentioning in passing. There are many vases, sarcophagi, and fragments of walls with wonderful sculptures in relief, including the Portonaccio Sarcophagus. There is the Aphrodite of Menophantos, the nude goddess of love shyly covering her private parts, as if embarrassed, but with a serene expression on her face. There were also busts of Socrates and Epicurus that I quite enjoyed.

Several essays could be written on any of the pieces in the collection but here I will only pause to reflect on one more, the Discobolus. This is a Roman copy in marble of a Greek original in bronze, by the famous sculpture Myron (c. 480 – 440 BCE). The subject of the statue is an athlete, as usual nude, throwing a discus. His body is wound up to its maximum and he is about to reverse directions and release.

This sculpture dates from a much earlier period than the Boxer at Rest, and presents a striking contrast of mentality. Although the athlete’s body is doubtless under a tremendous about of strain, his face is emotionless and blank. He stares placidly at the viewer, his vacant eyes giving the impression that his mind is totally elsewhere, on a different plane, a realm of pure thought and idea. He seems to be so totally absorbed in the act of throwing that he feels no strain.

This is Greek idealization at its finest. There is not a flaw on his body. His muscles are not even tensed. Most striking, however, is the impression of stability that the sculpture conveys. Although the athlete is in mid-motion, it does not invite the viewer to imagine him coming to life and completing the throw. We are, rather, bidden to contemplate the perfection of the athlete’s body, the harmony of his pose, the calmness of his gaze. It is as if the flesh has been sublimated into pure thought.

A contrast with Bernini’s David might be appropriate here. Although both works portray a man about to launch a projectile, Bernini’s work is all fire and movement, while Myron’s is as still and lifeless as ice. The Classic Greeks are always there to remind us that passion and realism are not necessary, nor even always desirable, for great art.

The second floor of the museum is devoted to frescoes, stuccos, and mosaics. Although beautiful as works of art, these are, to me, more fascinating as windows into Roman life, since many originated as decorations in the homes of wealthy Romans. Wandering around this floor, it is easy to imagine that you stumbled into a Roman villa, full of images of sea monsters, gods, and strange beasts.

This does it for my experience of Rome’s museums next I will discuss Rome’s ancient ruins.


Review: Modern Romance

One firm takeaway from all our interviews with women is that most dudes out there are straight-up bozos.

My introduction to modern romance was abrupt and unexpected. I was back in New York for the holidays, drinking with a few friends, sipping and gulping the wonderful IPAs that I miss when I’m here in Spain.

Sometime deep into the night, one of my friends, who is a gay man—this is relevant to the story you should also know that I’m a straight guy—asked if anyone wanted to go on his Tinder. “I do!” I said, and soon found myself face to face with the infamous app for the first time in my life.

Now, for the three remaining people who don’t know how Tinder works, it’s very simple: You look at pictures of people, and swipe left if you don’t want to talk to them, right if you do. (In this respect it’s like the Last Judgment.) If someone you’ve approved of also approves of you, then you are both given the option to send messages.

My friend was obviously a stud, because I was getting matches left and right (well, only right). One of these matches was a young man who I’ll call Woodrow Wilson. With permission from my friend, I sent Woodrow a message. The conversation went something like this:

Me: What’s your favorite tree?

Woodrow Wilson: Uh, White Pines are pretty cool I guess.

Me: White Pines? So cliché.

Woodrow Wilson: You’re right, I was only testing the waters. I’m really fond of Quaking Aspens. You?

Me: Now we’re talking. I’ve always been fond of the Shagbark Hickory.

The conversation proceeded like this for about four days, by which time it was clear that I had found my soul mate through my gay friend’s Tinder. Unfortunately, many barriers stood in the way—I’m straight, I was going back to Spain, and I was basically deceiving him—so I didn’t meet Woodrow Wilson. (If you ever read this—hello, and sorry!) But the experience was enough to make me curious about the opportunities and hazards of romance in the modern world.

Being a reluctant single, a very reluctant millennial, and a very, very reluctant member of the modern world, you can imagine I was, well, reluctant to tackle this topic. This book enticed me, not because it was written by Aziz Ansari—I didn’t consider myself a fan, and in college I even passed up the opportunity to see him live on campus—but because he teamed up with a sociologist, Eric Klinenberg, to write it. I listened to the audiobook, nasally narrated by Aziz.

The most striking thing about this book is that, despite its lighthearted tone and frequent funny asides, it is basically a serious and even an earnest book. Sociological statistics, psychological studies, and anthropological analyses are mixed with anecdotes and interviews and a bit of humor to give a quick but surprisingly thorough tour of romance in the contemporary world.

Aziz begins by pointing out that dating in today’s world is strikingly different from dating in my grandparents’ or even my parents’ generation. This is not only because of advances in technology but, more importantly, because of shifts in values. We now have developed what you might call a perfectionistic attitude towards finding a partner. We want to find a “soul mate,” “the one,” somebody who fulfills us and thrills us. Aziz contrasts this with what he calls the “good enough” marriages of yesteryears—finding a partner that satisfies some basic criteria, like having a job and a shiny pocket watch

I myself have noticed this shift from studying anthropology and history. In cultures all around the world—and in the West until quite recently—marriages were considered a communal affair. Aziz’s own parents had an arranged marriage, and according to him have had a long, successful relationship. (To be honest the idea of an arranged marriage has always been strangely appealing to me, since I don’t think any decision of such importance should be left in my hands. But the rest of my generation disagrees, apparently, so now I’m left to rummage through apps.)

Connected to this rise in the “soul mate” marriage is a rise in our preoccupation with romantic love. According to the biological anthropologist, Helen Fisher, there are two distinct types of love in the human brain: romantic, and companionate. Romantic love is the kind that writes bad poetry companionate love is the kind that does the dishes. Romantic love hits early in a relationship and lasts up to a year and a half companionate love grows slowly over time, perhaps over decades. This division accords well with my own experience.

(Parenthetically, I have long been skeptical, even morbidly suspicious, of romantic love: that kind of idealizing, gushing, delicious, walking on air feeling. To me it seems to be a form of self-deception, convincing yourself that your partner is perfect, even divine, and that nobody else in the world could make you so happy—when the truth is that your partner is a flawed person, only one of many flawed people who could induce the same delirious sensation. Wow, I sound really bitter in this paragraph.)

This cultural shift has been bolstered by our new dating technology. Now we do not only have the expectation that we can find the perfect partner, but we have the tools to do the searching. I can, and sometimes do, scroll through hundreds of faces on my phone per day. All this is very exciting never before could I have so many romantic options at my fingertips.

But there are some major drawbacks to this. One is what the psychologist Barry Schwartz called the “paradox of choice.” Although you’d think having more options would make people more satisfied, in fact the reverse occurs. I remember watching TV was a lot more fun when I was a kid and I only had a few dozen channels when we upgraded to hundreds of channels, it became stressful—what if there was something better on? Similarly, after spending three months in a camp in Kenya, eating whatever I was given, I found it overwhelming to go to a pizza place and order. How could I choose from so many toppings?

Along with these broader observations is a treasure trove of statistics and anecdotes that, if you’re like me, you’ll be quoting and misquoting for weeks. I found the little vignettes on the dating cultures in Japan, where there’s a sex crisis, Buenos Aires, where there’s a machismo crisis, and Paris, where there’s lots of infidelity but apparently no crisis, to be particularly memorable.

These anecdotes are not just for mental titillation, but are used to support several tenets of dating advice. Here are just a few takeaways. Check your punctuation before you send a text. When you ask someone out on a date, include a specific time and location, not “wanna hang out some time?” vagueness. Texting people is not a reliable way to gauge if you’ll like them in person it’s best to ask them out sooner and not prolong a meaningless texting conversation. Take the time to get to know people rarely do you see the more interesting side of someone’s personality on a first date.

As you can see, this book is quite a rare hybrid: part social science, and part self-help, and part comedy. And yet the book rarely feels disorganized or scatterbrained. Aziz keeps a tight rein on his materials the writing is compact, clever, and informative. With the notable limitation that this book deals only with heterosexual couples, and covers no topic in serious depth, I can say that it’s hard for me to imagine how any such short book could give so complete a picture of modern romance.

Most impressive is the human touch. What could have potentially been a mere smattering of facts and stories, Aziz makes into a coherent whole by grounding everything in the day-to-day frustrations and realities of the dating world. Aziz knows firsthand how much dating can suck, how tiresome, uncomfortable, and stressful it can be. Yet, for all this, the book is ultimately hopeful.

Beneath all these shifts in values and demographics, all the innovations in dating technologies and changes in romantic habits, all the horror stories and the heartbreaks, beyond the lipstick and the cologne, below the collared shirts and high heeled shoes, above the loud music and the strong liquor, pushing every button and writing every text, is the universal human itch to connect.

This itch has always been with us and always will be. Each generation just learns to scratch it in new and interesting ways.

(If interested in setting something up, please direct all inquiries to my mom.)


Pompeii

The next day, Greg and Jay had to catch their flights back to Marseille and Madrid, leaving Holden and I to explore another ancient city: Pompeii.

Getting to Pompeii from Naples is easy. Many people opt to take a tour, of course but for those plebeians like me, the train is the way to go. There are two train lines that go to Pompeii, the Metropolitano and the aptly-named Circumvesuviana. Either one gets you to the site in around 40 minutes, plus a bit of walking.

After the Colosseum, Pompeii is likely the most famous ancient Roman site. Everyone knows the story and many of us can remember seeing those frightful plaster casts of the deceased, frozen in their last excruciating moments. Even so, when I walked into this iconic place, I really had little idea what to expect. Indeed, my first reaction was mild disappointment, if only because visiting Pompeii is so unlike visiting other famous monuments. Instead of glorious architecture or priceless artwork, the visitor is confronted with something far more humble: houses, apartments, streets, alleys… The buildings on display were not made to satisfy a king or celebrate god (at least not most of them). They are entirely cotidian. But it is the very ordinariness of Pompeii that makes it special. For it is here, more than almost anywhere else, that we can imagine what life was really like all those years ago.

Let us begin at the end, with the destruction of Pompeii. This was due to a catastrophic eruption of nearby Mt. Vesuvius (still an active volcano), in 79 CE. The traditional date given for this eruption is August 24, as this is the date provided in the letters of Pliny the Younger, the only surviving eyewitness account of the eruption. However, evidence found within the site—coins, clothes, produce—suggest that this day may be too early. Indeed, we know that medieval copyists (who preserved Pliny’s writings) were prone to errors. It now seems more likely, then, that the eruption took place in autumn, in late October or early November.

It also must be remembered that the eruption was a process, not a single moment. Tremors and earthquakes began to rock the city for days beforehand and the first phase of the event consisted of hail of pumice, lasting many hours, which is normally not life-threatening. The residents of Pompeii thus had ample warning that something was happening, and had plenty of time to escape if they chose to. Most did. For the unlucky few who remained, the situation soon became far more dangerous. Pyroclastic flows—clouds of ash, extremely hot, moving at hundreds of miles per hour—streamed down the sides of the volcano. The physical impact alone was sometimes powerful enough to destroy buildings. But even if the building held firm, anyone sheltering inside was killed instantly by the arrival of the hot gas (after traveling the long distance from Vesuvius, the gas was still as hot as your oven at full whack).

In total, about 1,100 people lost their lives in the event, in a city of probably at least 20,000. What remained of the city was entombed beneath a layer of ash, 6 to 7 meters (19-23 ft) deep.

This eruption is forever connected to two Plinys—the younger, previously mentioned, and the Elder, his uncle. Pliny the Elder was a famous naturalist, remembered for assembling a massive encyclopedia of knowledge of the natural world, called the Naturalis Historiæ. When Vesuvius began to erupt, he was at his villa across the Bay, and set off on his boat on a rescue mission (as well as to collect some observations on volcanoes, one presumes). Unfortunately, the old man died in the attempt, apparently by breathing in toxic fumes from the volcano (though the other members of his party were unharmed). Meanwhile, the younger Pliny—a writer and future statesman—was observing the scene from across the bay. Many years later, this Pliny put down his reminiscence of the catastrophe in a couple letters to the historian Tacitus.

Here is what he said about the eruption:

A cloud, from which mountain was uncertain, at this distance (but it was found afterwards to come from Mount Vesuvius), was ascending, the appearance of which I cannot give you a more exact description than by likening it to that of a pine tree, for it shot up to a great height in the form of a very tall trunk…

And here is the younger Pliny’s moving description of the aftermath:

We had scarcely sat down when night came upon us, not such as we have seen when the sky is cloudy, or when there is no moon, but that of a room when it is shut up, and all the lights put out. You might hear the shrieks of women, the screams of children, and the shouts of men some calling for their children, others for their parents, others for their husbands, and seeking to recognise each other by the voices that replied one lamenting his own fate, another that of his family some wishing to die, from the very fear of dying some lifting their hands to the gods but the greater part convinced that there were now no gods at all, and that the final endless night of which we have heard had come upon the world.

It is difficult to imagine something more terrifying—especially when you consider that Pompeians had only feeble oil lamps to use in the ashy darkness as they made their escape. We have unusually detailed knowledge of the victims, as they died almost instantaneously, and were then entombed under the ash. Later excavators would fill in the cavities left by these bodies (now decomposed) to make gruesome plaster casts of victims in their last, painful moments. Some were sheltering in homes or basements, while others were struck down as they fled, carrying some money and a few valuables.

In the weeks and months that followed, the site was visited by survivors and, most likely, looters, who came to retrieve the valuables left behind. There is clear evidence of post-eruption tunneling, and it is even possible that some skeletons in the site are actually would-be robbers, whose tunnels collapsed on them. But after that, the site slowly drifted from memory, laying mostly undisturbed for well over a thousand years. Aside from a few chance encounters, the site was only really re-discovered—and then excavated—in the 18th century, by the Spanish engineer Roque Joaquín de Alcubierre.

Excavation has continued right up to the present day, as significant sections of the city still remain buried in ash. Just three weeks ago, for example, the discovery of a Pompeian pub was announced. Since the city’s discovery, archaeologists and antiquarians have raced against time to preserve the site, as tourism, looting, vandalism, pollution, the Italian sun, the Mediterranean rain, and the slow knife of time do their damage. Pompeii is even battle-scarred: Allied forces dropped bombs on the ruins (presumably they missed their target), reducing many structures to rubble. The city just can’t catch a break.

But now we must go back to the beginning. Though Pompeii is now known as a quintessentially Roman site, one must remember that the Romans were comparative latecomers in antiquity. Before they conquered Italy and spread their Latin language, the peninsula was populated by a patchwork of peoples speaking different Italic languages, such as Etruscan and Umbrian. Here at Pompeii, the people spoke Oscan and they had been living in Pompeii for centuries before the Romans arrived. Indeed, it was the Greeks who came first, integrating Pompeii into their network of trading ports. (At the time, the city of Pompeii was much closer to the coast volcanic eruptions have extended the land many hundreds of meters out into the Mediterranean since then.) In an exhibition center, some artifacts from these bygone days—pottery, armor, weapons—were on display.

After centuries of being gradually pulled into the Roman orbit, and serving as a Roman ally, Pompeii officially became a Roman colony in 89 BCE. This meant that its residents were just as much citizens of Rome as the denizens of the capital city itself. By the time of its destruction, Latin was spoken in the streets, Roman gods and emperors were worshipped in the temples, and Roman laws were enforced in the land. But it is worth remembering that many other peoples—Oscans, Greeks, Etruscans, Samnites—contributed to the shape of the city, too.

But enough background. Let us explore the site itself.

Upon entering the front gate, you soon come upon the so-called Antiquario. This is a kind of miniature museum with all sorts of artifacts on display—coins, jewellry, urns, furniture. But the most memorable thing to see are four plaster casts of victims, their bodies curled and twisted in the moment of death. Nearby there is a cabinet displaying a few dozen of the human skulls found at the site (as well as one horse skull). It is a grim introduction to Pompeii. Later on, I peered into another storage area for these petrified corpses. The human tragedy of Pompeii is brought painfully to mind by these remains. But the most touching might be a dog, whose final agonizing moment is captured in vivid detail. It is hard to look at.

Most of the time, however, visiting Pompeii does not feel at all like visiting a macabre museum. Rather, you find yourself walking down cobblestone streets and wandering in and out of buildings. But the streets themselves are interesting enough. There are recognizable sidewalks that run along the street, just like today—though unlike today, in Pompeii the sidewalks are elevated high from the street. In fact, the sidewalks are so high off the ground that I actually ripped the crotch of my bluejeans stepping up onto it (luckily, the rip was invisible while I was standing). The probable explanation for this is that the streets easily flooded during a downpour, as the city lacked sewers. (The streets also probably smelled terrible, for the same reason.) I must also mention one of the niftiest features of the Pompeian streets: the stepping stones that allow the pedestrian to cross the street without descending, while also allowing wheeled vehicles to roll through the gaps in the rocks. That is elegant design.

The buildings of Pompeii range in size, splendor, and state. Some are little more than a few walls and a roof, with weeds sprouting in the middle. But others are quite magnificent. Among the most famous is the so-called House of the Tragic Poet. We have no idea if a tragic poet really lived there but the house has invited speculation because of the high-quality art packed into a relatively modest dwelling. More amusing to me, however, is the mosaic of a pooch on the floor near the entrance, with the words “Cave Canum” (“Beware of dog,” in Latin) spelled around it. Another notable residence is the House of the Faun—an enormous mansion, which obviously belonged to someone very wealthy, named after a charming little statue in its courtyard. The house was richly decorated. The Alexander Mosaic, for instance, adorned a floor here (imagine walking on such a work of art!). Above the doorway the word “HAVE” is inscribed, Latin for “Greetings”—though it does seem an unintentional pun on the owner’s wealth.

Another common sight in Pompeii are buildings with countertops, filled with large holes. At first, Holden and I speculated that they were communal toilets (which the Romans did use). In reality, however, these were eating establishments. Poorer residents, you see, usually lived in cramped little apartments on upper floors, with no kitchen and hardly any space to store food. Thus, unlike in our own day, it was the poor who ate out. The modern visitor can discover some erstwhile cooking implements, and even some frescos adorning the walls of these eateries—scenes of restaurant life (like two drunkards arguing) or images of what was on the menu: chicken, duck, goat. We know from surviving Roman cookbooks, as well as archaeological remains, that snails were a favorite. They were usually topped with garum, the ubiquitous Roman condiment made from fermented fish. Some garum was produced right in Pompeii, doubtless to the delight of neighbors’ noses.

(Competing with garum production for the stinkiest work in Pompeii was the fullery business, wherein workers—normally slaves—had to stand in a mixture of chemicals and urine, stomping on cloth, in order to soften it for garments.)

If you were a Roman with a little money and some free time, there were plenty of opportunities for entertainment. The biggest structure in the city was the Amphitheater, with seats for almost the entire town (20,000). Here, the bloodthirsty Roman citizen could enjoy a bit of ultra-violence—either in the form of gladiators hacking each other to bits, or humans and animals reducing one another to shreds. In a more pacific vein, Pink Floyd also had a concert here. For more sophisticated amusement, the Roman could head to the Theater Area, which contains two performance spaces, one large and one small, for plays and concerts. But one suspects that many Romans liked the Lupanar best of all—in plain English, the brothel. (“Lupanar” means “wolf-den,” which I suppose says something about the Roman attitude towards prostitution.) It was not especially difficult to identify this building as a brothel. There are erotic frescos adorning the walls, and hundreds of graffiti scratched on as well, mostly vulgar. It is a bit of a sad place, consisting of cramped rooms with concrete beds (one hopes they had mattresses).

The center of city life, as in all Roman settlements, was the forum. Nowadays there is not much to see—a collection of broken columns, supporting nothing, surrounding a big empty space. But one must imagine this place filled with all sorts of people, buying, selling, playing, laughing, and bickering. When I visited there was a statue of a centaur that I took to be original. Actually, it is a sculpture by Igor Mitoraj, a Polish artist, whose work was being exhibited throughout the site. I quite like it. Nearby are the Forum Baths, some of the best preserved Roman baths in existence. Bathing was quite important to the Romans it was a communal activity, in a space where hierarchy mattered far less. Indeed, bath houses were public goods, owned by the state. Walking through this bath house, you can see the different spaces for hot, lukewarm, and cold baths. Though the image of squeaky clean, democratic Romans is appealing, Mary Beard reminds us that the water was not drained and refreshed. In other words, the Romans were probably bathing in a stew of bacteria and muck—if not worse.

The forum

The Romans were a rowdy and bawdy bunch, but they did have their more spiritual side. The city was littered with images of gods, both large and small and several temples are to be found in the site. The best preserved of these is the Temple of Isis, captivating both for its well-preserved art and for serving as a window to how foreign gods were incorporated into the Roman pantheon. For Isis was, of course, an Egyptian goddess, and elements of Egyptian design are built into details of the temple. Nevertheless, it is a Roman construction, filled with Roman frescos quite non-Egyptian in style. For my part, I thought the temple was surprisingly small—a covered stone platform, accessed via a small stairwell—and I found the frescos a little silly. But for the women, slaves, and freedman who worshiped here (for Isis was a friend of the downtrodden), it must have been an awesome space.

I can’t say I love the art.

Holden and I visited for about five hours before calling it quits. But we did not see all there was to see. Pompeii just has so much to offer. Indeed, I found it difficult even to wrap my mind around it. While I strolled through the ancient city, my thoughts were mostly blank, my emotions calm, as I wandered this way and that. But for days afterwards, I constantly thought about Pompeii. It is unlike any place I have ever visited, a startling journey to another time. There are plenty of more beautiful and impressive monuments—the Colosseum, the Roman forum, the Pantheon, the aqueduct of Segovia, the theater of Mérida—but no place comes close to the evocative power of Pompeii.

Holden and I in Pompeii

I like to think that a city is a concrete representation of the human mind. You can read our thoughts, values, and emotions in its buildings. In Pompeii you can observe the free and easy attitude towards sex and violence (in the amphitheater and brothel), the inequalities of wealth and status (in the different sized residences), but also the democratic ethos of the Roman people (in the baths). You note the importance of trade and commerce (in the forum), a spirit which even extended to the divine (if I sacrifice a goat to you, you have to reward me). The overwhelming impression is of an extroverted people. Every activity took place in public—eating, bathing, art, business, politics, and even defecation. Sex (or at least images of sex) was always in view. Like the Naples of today, then, Pompeii was a city that lived in its streets.


Moderne modtagelse

Leibniz

I forståelsen af ​​lykke i den tidlige moderne periode blev stoiske ideer blandet med kristne ideer. Dermed kombinerer Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716) den stoiske forståelse af det fredfyldte, rolige og standhaftige sind med en kristen tro på den guddommelige forsyns absolutte godhed. Han definerede lyksalighed som en tilstand af konstant glæde. Det er glæden, som sjælen føler i sin egen perfektion, harmoni, styrke og frihed. I sin tidlige analyse De Vita Beata. Leibniz tog hellenistiske grundlæggende begreber og ideer om lykke op . Han anbefalede altid at følge sindets anvisninger, at modstå ubevidste påvirkninger, at leve dydigt, at lære af fiaskoer, at klage over intet og kun stræbe efter det, der er muligt. Derefter kunne man glæde og roligt nyde et lykkeligt liv. I sin Confessio philosophi (1673) definerede Leibniz lykke som sindets højeste harmoni. Dette er baseret på det faktum, at den universelle harmoni er koncentreret i sindet og samler sig som i et fokuspunkt. Leibniz sidestillede virkningerne af universel harmoni med de af Gud forudbestemte menneskelige skæbne.

Diskussionen om "eudaemonism"

18. og 19. århundrede

Immanuel Kant gjorde forskellige bestræbelser for at bestemme forholdet mellem moral og lykke. I overensstemmelse med den gamle tradition erklærede han, at alle ønsker at nå lykke. Dette er faktisk for mennesket "sit eget ultimative naturlige formål", det "sande naturlige behov, hvor vores art er i overensstemmelse med sig selv". Imidlertid distancerede Kant sig fra den gamle forståelse gennem sin definition af lykke som "et rationelt væsens tilstand i verden, der i hele sin eksistens gør alt efter hans vilje og vilje". Han fandt ud af, at det i princippet var umuligt for mennesket som individ og som art at opnå en sådan lykke på jorden hverken omverdenens natur eller hans egen tillader dette.

I sin analyse af den gamle forståelse af etik introducerede Kant udtrykkene " eudaemonisme " og "eudaemonist" for at betegne en forestilling, han var imod. I sit arbejde Die Metaphysik der Sitten (1797) kritiserede han eudaemonisme, der sporer det obligatoriske princip tilbage til en doktrin om lykke og betyder ”en vis moralsk lykke”, der ikke er baseret på empiriske årsager. Det er "en selvmodsigende absurditet". Ifølge Kant er den person, der har opfyldt sin pligt og er opmærksom på den "i en tilstand af ro og tilfredshed, som man kan kalde lyksalighed, hvor dyd er sin egen belønning". Fra Kants synspunkt er der intet galt med det. Snarere vedrører hans kritik holdningen hos "eudaemonisten", for hvem denne salighed eller lykke er den reelle motivation for opfyldelsen af ​​pligten. For eudaemonisten bestemmer pligtbegrebet ikke direkte viljen, men kun udsigten til eudaemonisme tilskynder ham til at udføre sin pligt. Med dette kommer han i en modsigelse, fordi pligtprincippet forudsætter en moralsk grund til handling, mens eudaemonisten kun anerkender som sin pligt det, der bringer ham lykke og således handler efter et ekstramoralt princip. Hvis eudaemonia etableres som et princip, er resultatet efter Kants opfattelse "eutanasi": den "blide død" af al moral.

Kant kaldte begge doktriner, der gør lykke til et princip, og den tilsvarende holdning i livet eudaemonistisk. Selvom han betragtede menneskets naturlige tilbøjeligheder, der sigter mod lykke, som i sig selv ikke var genstand for genstand, insisterede han på, at i tilfælde af konflikt skulle fornuft, der som ren praktisk grund ikke tjener tilbøjeligheder, altid have prioritet.

Johann Gottlieb Fichte , der overtog Kants brug af udtrykket, fremsatte også nedsættende kommentarer i 1798 om den "tidligere herskende" eudaemonisme, som er årsagen til mange onder. I 1799 skrev Fichte, at den, der var eudaemonist i etik, måtte blive dogmatiker i spekulation Eudaemonisme og dogmatisme er, hvis man kun er konsekvent, nødvendige sammen. I kristendommen er der et ”system for afgudsdyrkelse og afgudsdyrkelse”, hvor ”lykke forventes af et overvældende væsen”. Som et resultat mistede den kristne doktrin, under indflydelse af en eudaemonistisk tankegang, sin ånd og styrke og blev til en "beundrende doktrin om lykke". Det eudaemonistiske system dræber unge fra enhver ånd. Overalt kan eudaemonisterne genkendes som sladder og lavvandede tilhængere.

Hegel indtog en differentierende holdning. Hvis man ved lykke forstår menneskets tilfredshed i sine specielle tilbøjeligheder, ønsker og behov, gør man det utilsigtede og særlige til princippet om viljen og dens aktivitet. En sådan eudaemonisme mangler ethvert fast greb og åbner døren for al vilkårlighed og indfald. Kant havde med rette imødegået dette med kravet om en generelt bindende bestemmelse af viljen. Men det afhænger af, hvor man skal lede efter lykke. Afhængigt af hvordan dette bestemmes, skal der skelnes mellem "meget rå, grov eudaemonisme" og "bedre".

I sine foredrag om filosofiens historie analyserede Hegel den gamle forståelse af eudaimonia . Før Kant var moral eudemonistisk baseret på bestemmelse af lykke. Salighed indebærer tilfredshed for individet gennem fysisk og åndelig nydelse. Men fordi, ifølge den filosofiske tradition, ikke enhver sensuel, direkte nydelse skal forstås, men snarere lykken indeholder "en refleksion over hele staten", repræsenterer det hele princippet, og individet skal nulstilles. Ancient eudaemonism indeholdt lyksalighed som en tilstand for hele livet den etablerede "total nydelse". Dette refleksionsniveau står midt mellem blott ønske og "det andet, hvad der er rigtigt som ret og pligt som pligt". Man mente, at ingen øjeblikkelig stat fortjener navnet lyksalighed.

I det 19. århundrede, i tillæg til de begreber, der vedrører en persons forhold til deres egen lykke, dem, der fremmer andres lykke begyndte at blive forstået som former for eudaemonism. Udtrykket "individuel" eller "individualistisk" eudaemonisme er blevet etableret for den fagrelaterede lære. Man skelner herfra fra "universel" eller "social" eudaemonisme, ifølge hvilken princippet om det moralske gode også omfatter forfølgelsen af ​​generel lykke. Hvis alle de involverede i en handlings lykke er det afgørende kriterium, er det utilitarisme .

Arthur Schopenhauer brugte udtrykket " Eudaimonologie " i sin Parerga og Paralipomena udgivet i 1851 . Ved dette forstod han instruktionerne til kunsten at leve livet så behageligt og lykkeligt som muligt. Han sagde, at en lykkelig eksistens i bedste fald kan defineres som en, der bestemt vil være at foretrække frem for ikke at være "med kold og omhyggelig overvejelse". Spørgsmålet om, hvorvidt menneskeliv "svarer til eller kun kan svare til begrebet sådan en eksistens", sagde Schopenhauer benægtende. Han beskyldte eudemonologien, som forudsatte bekræftelsen af ​​spørgsmålet, at den var baseret på den "medfødte fejl", at "vi er der for at være lykkelige". Denne fejl er medfødt, fordi den falder sammen med selve den menneskelige eksistens, og hele menneskets væsen er kun dens omskrivning mennesket er kun "vilje til at leve". Under "lykke" forestiller folk sig successiv tilfredshed med alt, hvad de ønsker. Så længe han fortsætter med den medfødte fejl, synes verden ham fuld af modsigelser, for med hvert skridt, både stort og lille, skal han lære, at verden og livet på ingen måde er designet til at indeholde en lykkelig eksistens.

Schopenhauer tildelte Kant den store fortjeneste at have renset etik for al "eudaimonisme". Kants egen etik mangler dog et solidt fundament, det er beviseligt et spørgsmål om "fuldstændig uberettigede, grundløse og fabrikerede antagelser". Kant havde højtideligt kastet eudaemonisme, moral rettet mod lykke og følgelig egeninteresse ud af hoveddøren til hans system, men under navnet "højeste god" eudaemonisme "anstændigt tilsløret" sneg sig ind gennem bagdøren. De gamle tænkere ønskede at bevise dyd og lykke som identiske, men disse udtryk er "som to figurer, der aldrig falder sammen, men man kan placere dem". De nyere etikere har afveget fra kravet om identitet, i stedet har de gjort lykke resultatet af dyd. Men der er ingen empirisk støtte til dette. Ifølge Schopenhauers vurdering er stoisk etik et respektabelt, men mislykket forsøg på at bruge grunden til at hæve folk over lidelse og til at skabe eudaimonia, der faktisk er umuligt. Den stoiske kloge mand, der bor i eudaimonia, forbliver "en træ, stiv lemmet mand", "som man ikke kan gøre noget med, som selv ikke ved, hvad man skal gøre med sin visdom, hvis perfekte ro, tilfredshed, lyksalighed næsten modsiger essensen af menneskeheden og viser os ikke noget idé om det ".

Selv Friedrich Nietzsche var en modstander af eudaemonisme. Han afviste doktriner, der gør lykke til et mål for værdi. I princippet afviste han eudaimonia som et mål i betydningen af ​​de gamle begreber: "Første sætning i min moral: man bør ikke stræbe efter stater, hverken lykke eller ro eller kontrol over sig selv." Man kan ikke bortskaffe lykke, den ligger i at skabe og være en bivirkning, når du frigiver styrke. Lykke er ikke en konsekvens af dyd, men er frem for alt moral. Nietzsche betragtede vendingen mod stræben efter lykke, der begyndte med Socrates, som et fænomen med tilbagegang: ”Da Grækenlands bedste var forbi, kom moralfilosoferne.” Fra og med Socrates var alle græske tænkere primært moralfilosoffer, der havde søgt lykke - "det er dårligt, at de var nødt til at lede efter det".

20. og 21. århundrede

Nicolai Hartmann undersøgte eudaemonisme i sin etik (1926). Han fandt ud af, at oplysningens etik var "til enhver tid", i det gamle sofistik såvel som i det 17. og 18. århundrede, eudaemonistisk. Eudaemonisme handler om den følelsesmæssige værdi som sådan, med en følelse som formålet med livet. De gamle epikuræere og stoikere ville ikke have forkyndt eudaemonisme i denne forstand. Med eudaimonia menes ikke held eller lyst i den sædvanlige forstand, men et væld af meget forskellige værdier såsom selvforsyning, beherskelse af impulser, visdom, ro og fasthed i sindet, indre styrke, frihed, overlegenhed over skæbnen. Det var standarderne for lykke og ulykke, motivet af glæde lyder kun langt væk. På den anden side havde verdensopfattelsen af ​​den antikke kristendom en grundlæggende eudaemonistisk struktur, den var gennemsyret af en "eudaemonism of the herefter", fordi man primært tog sig af sin egen frelse. "Denne verdens altruisme" var "på samme tid egoisme fra det hinsidige". Denne eudaemonisme blev også afspejlet i martyrium. Moderne eudaemonisme forholder sig mere konsekvent end nogensinde til det gamle ”hele verden af ​​moralske fænomener til lyksalighed” alt bliver spurgt, om det er "nyttigt" til dette formål. Du har kun det “nyttige” i tankerne. Det glemmes, at det skal være nyttigt “til noget”, og at brugen kun er et middel. På denne måde bliver livet et jag efter midler uden nogen egentlig følelse af formål. Resultatet er en "forkrøblet og forarmet følelse af værdi" og dermed i sidste ende en drejning fra den indre værdi af eudaemonia. Således fører eudaemonisme i sidste ende til dens selvafskaffelse.

Hans Reiner udarbejdede en klassificering af de forskellige manifestationer af filosofisk refleksion om emnet, som han præsenterede i 1972 i en kort oversigt. Han brugte et moderne udtryk eudaemonisme, der i modsætning til begreberne fra de ikke-hedonistiske gamle filosoffer inkluderer ønsket om glæde, dvs. også inkluderer hedonistiske lærdomme. Reiner skelnede mellem eudaemonismen i handlingsteorien og eudaemonismen om moralens retfærdiggørelse. Ifølge dets system inkluderer sidstnævnte alle etiske lærdomme, der gør lykke til det højeste gode og derfor forfølgelsen af ​​den til en moralsk pligt, hvorfra de andre pligter opstår, og som de er underordnet. Handlingsteoretisk eudaemonisme inkluderer alle psykologiske teorier, ifølge hvilke al menneskelig handling - ikke kun moralsk - i sidste ende i sig selv i sidste ende sigter mod en ende, som er lykke. I handlingsteorien skelnes der mellem forskellige typer "eudaemonia" (lykke eller glæde i bred forstand). "Hedonistisk eudaemonisme" beskriver definitionen af ​​målet som varig fornøjelse. I "aretologisk eudaemonisme" udgør effektivitet eller dyd hovedelementet i eudaemonia eller skal sidestilles med det. I ”ontologisk eudaemonisme” er målet at være fri for alle mangler. En ”frivillig eudaemonisme” ser lykke i mætning af viljen.

I 1972 forsøgte Wilhelm Kamlah "at bringe det gamle ord 'eudaemonia' (. ) tilbage til livet". Han hævdede, at Kant ikke forstod den oprindelige gamle eudaimonisme. Det er nu vigtigt at genopdage dette "lige gennem midten" mellem hedonisme og moralisme . For livets succes er det vigtigt ikke at miste synet af eudaemonia som det højeste gode. Den "eudaemoniske løshed" er den uundværlige grundlæggende betingelse for liv, hvile og stille død.

Jürgen-Eckardt Pleines skrev i 1984, at der altid var objektive grunde "til at genoptage samtalen med Aristoteles nøjagtigt, hvor den i princippet truede med at bryde sammen på grund af hans doktrin om lykke". I 1994 bemærkede Nicholas White en voksende indflydelse af aristotelianismen i nutidig etisk diskurs, især i den engelsktalende verden, samt en stigende tendens til "eudaimonisme". Han definerede dette som den position, ifølge hvilken menneskets eneste rationelle mål er hans egen lykke eller velvære. Det er rigtigt, at ikke alle moderne eudaemonistiske modeller er aristoteliske, men den nyere diskussion skylder meget aristotelisk tanke, og man kunne tale om neo-aristotelisk eudaemonisme. Malte Hossenfelder bemærkede i 1996, at når man ser på nutidige teorier om lykke, blev det klart, at folk ofte tænkte i gamle termer. De gamle tekster ville have "afgørende formet lykke den dag i dag". I 2000 spurgte Christoph Horn , om der er sandsynlige begreber om det gode, vellykkede eller lykkelige liv i det nuværende filosofiske teoretiske landskab, der er analogt med de gamle modeller, eller om Kants negative vurdering havde hersket. Horn erklærede, at overbevisningen om, at de grundlæggende spørgsmål om en vellykket livsstil teoretisk var i stand til at blive teoretisk fulgt, havde fundet flere og flere tilhængere i de sidste to årtier i det 20. århundrede. I 2001 opfordrede William J. Prior til en moderne eudaemonistisk dydsetik, som skulle være knyttet til begrebet Aristoteles, fordi dette er den mest sandsynlige af de konventionelle eudaemonistiske teorier. I 2012 forsvarede Mark LeBar og Nathaniel Goldberg en “psykologisk” eudaemonisme i den forstand af handlingsteorien, der var fremherskende i antikken, som antager en stræben efter et “godt”, lykkeligt liv som en afgørende motiverende kraft i alle mennesker.


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