Ancient Moms

for Dorit, χρόνια πολλά

The Roman Empire, addicted to expansion and wealth, wanted Britain’s tin and the land that went with it. In 54 BC, Julius Caesar invaded Britain. The locals were not prepared for such an overwhelming military force. Britain at the time was full of small kingdoms. To avoid conflict and loss, many leaders became “client kings”. That is, in exchange for their loyalty to Rome, the kings would be permitted to maintain some degree of sovereignty. Accommodating client kings generally became wealthy making this compromise all the easier to accept. This form of governing went on for almost 100 years. But that all changed in 60 AD.

Claudius became Roman emperor in 41 AD. He was physically awkward as he limped and had difficulties hearing. Romans liked their men to be macho so the wimpy Claudius was snubbed by his contemporaries. That is, until Caligula was assassinated. Claudius, the only adult male remaining in the family, became Emperor. Despite being an efficient administrator, Claudius had enemies including his wife (and niece), Agrippina the Younger, who was also the sister of Caligula and the mother of Nero.

After their marriage, Claudius adopted Nero as his son. Big mistake. Once Agrippina moved into the palace, she took over. Her deleterious relationship with power convinced her to feed her husband poisonous mushrooms so her son, Nero, could become emperor.

In 54 AD at the age of 16, Nero became Emperor of the Roman Empire. Although he had little interest in ruling the empire, he had much interest in spending the Empire’s money.

Momma Agrippina was just as greedy as her son. And just as sleezy. She had a libido out of whack having sexual relationships with her uncle, her brother, and her son. Agrippina used sex as a means of maintaining control. But Nero grew tired of his mom’s interference so he had her killed.

Nero and Agrippina

In 60 AD, Prasutagus, king of the Celtic tribe, Iceni, died. He’d been a client king and, hoping to avoid conflict for his people, he declared that his daughters, along with Nero, would rule the Iceni. But Nero, a greedy spendthrift, decided he wanted all of Prasutagus’ wealth and property. He did not honor the terms of Prasutagus’ will and, instead, Nero sent Roman soldiers to take charge of Prasutagus’ patrimony. And as they pillage and plundered, the Romans also stripped and flogged Boudica, wife of Prasutagus and Queen of the Iceni before raping her daughters.

Now Boudica was a mom. Not a mom like Agrippina but a normal mom who was bound to protecting and defending her children. The violence and humilation her daughters had been subjected to gave her a super power she vowed to use to destroy the Romans and their allies. After uniting the other Celtic tribes to make a passionate speech about the need to reappropriate themselves of their own territory and their own culture, Boudica declared war on the Romans.

Fueled by a mother’s rage, Boudica led her troops to victory, successfully razing to the ground three major Roman controlled towns (including modern-day London). Not only had the Romans been humiliated, they’d been humiliated by a woman. Nero foamed at the mouth while ordering the Roman governor of Britain, Suetonius Paulinus, to obliterate Boudica and her people.

The Romans were brutal and destroyed everything they could. Boudica, seeing her defeat, reacted like Cleopatra. She and her daughters drank a poisoned cocktail because they knew it was better to be dead than to be a prisoner of the Roman army.

In The Gallic Wars, Caesar wrote that the Druids concerned themselves with all things sacred as well as in settling disputes decreeing both rewards and punishments.  There were various groups of Druids each group having its own leader.

All Druids were Celts but not all Celts were Druids.

Most of what is known about the Druids comes from the Romans. The Romans were keen on writing the history for themselves and others. Because it was also a form of propaganda. The Druids were literate, but it was against their religion to write down the knowledge meant only for priests and sacred scholars.  The Druid need for secrecy is reminiscent of the Eleusinian mysteries.

There were three categories of Druids: Druids the philosophers, Ovates the healers/seerers, and Bards the singers/storytellers.

Many of the Bards lived in Wales. So is it any wonder that the Welsh have an excellent choir tradition? Or any wonder that Tom Jones is from Wales?

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Related: The Celtic Origins of Mistletoe +  Druids in History Maria Palmer +  Women in Druidry + Were There Female Druids? +  Regarding Female DruidsDruidism and Female + Ancient druids of Wales  + Twilight of the Druids, Madness of Emperors + The mysterious history of druids, ancient ‘mediators between humans and the gods’ + the Bards of Wales + Who was Nero?  British Museum +

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Ekphrastic Tourists

“The relation between what we see and what we know is never settled.” John Berger

Simply looking at a great work of art is not always enough. We often feel the primordial need to possess it in some way. And the cheapest way of doing so is by being photographed with it.

In Pisa, it’s almost mandatory to have a photo taken of yourself in such a way as to appear as if you are holding up the tower. Who doesn’t want to be a hero?

They felt like screaming so they did. Apparently, it is a big thing to take a photo of the self in front of Munch’s The Scream screaming (as can be seen HERE).

Thinking is for thinkers.

Rodin’s Thinker also inspires many ekphrastic photos. Even Robin Williams couldn’t resist as seen HERE once at the Rodin Museum.

Flashing in front of The Artist And His School by Arthur Siebelist. To keep the boys alert, sometimes you just have to flash back.

A photo  of a little girl dancing in front of a woman dancing made the internet rounds for some time.

Art inspires imagination and imitation.

This is a photo I took years ago. It is of a young boy on the floor drawing one of Rodin’s statues at the artist’s museum in Paris.

Imagination is a playground.

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Related:

Ekphrastic Copyists + Starry Starry Night + Ekphrastic: Lawrence & Jayne

How John Berger changed our way of seeing art + ‘A moment of awe’: Photo of little girl captivated by Michelle Obama portrait goes viral  +

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The Picnic

Picnics are not just for parks. It was once trendy to have them in cemeteries.

Here’s a photo of a small group picnickers sitting on flat tombstones at St. Luke’s Ancient Cemetery. (photo via HISTORIC ST. LUKE’S)

Atlas Obscura provides an interesting article HERE citing how one reason people had picnics there is because many cities lacked parks and/or public green space to provide an alternative. Plus it provided a place for  family get togethers where the deceased in the family could participate as well.

Related: Verano Monumental Cemetery + Excavating stories at Verano +

Remembering When Americans Picnicked in CemeteriesGraveyard Picnics Reunited Families + cemetery picnics our ancestors attended + The Victorians had a very peculiar tradition of picnicking in cemeteries +

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Consequences

Detective Barbara Havers made a mistake and now seeks redemption. A lead on a Cambridge murder gives Barbara a chance to make amends and she goes for it. Elizabeth George writes all about it in her crime novel, A Banquet of Consequences. She appropriated the title from R. L. Stevenson’s famous quote “Sooner or later everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences.” The idea is much the same as “A man reaps what he sows” (Galatians 6:7) In other words, our lives are the cumulative result of all the choices we’ve made.

And we  spend our days sowing, reaping, and gleaning.

A review of Elizabeth George’s A Banquet of Consequences REVIEW

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Migraines or Metaphysics?

Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice in Wonderland, suffered from terrible headaches. They were painful and made him feel weird about himself.

In 1955, the British psychiatrist, John Todd, began studying symptoms related to migraines and epilepsy. Noticing that certain kinds of migraines provoked a sense of depersonalization and an altered perception of the self, he tried to understand why. The symptoms made him think of Alice after falling into the rabbit hole. So he decided to name this condition the Alice in Wonderland Syndrome (AIWS).

The British mathematician, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, aka Lewis Carroll, often wrote in his diaries about his migraines and the aural phenomena that preceded them.

In 1862, Carroll and a clergyman friend took the three young Liddell sisters on a boat ride down the Thames. To keep them entertained, Carroll invented the story of Alice and her adventures in the rabbit hole. Alice Liddell, age 10 at the time, liked the story so much that she insisted Carroll write it for her.

Alice was the daughter of the dean of the college where Carroll taught. At the time, Carroll had developed a passion for photography and began taking photos of Alice and her sisters.

Carroll did not limit his interests to the Liddell sisters. He had many young “playmates” that he’d send letters to full of puns, puzzles, and requests for locks of hair. Carroll also asked them to sit on his lap semi-naked and pose for a photo. A very strong Peter Pan Jim Barrie vibe for me.

Initially Victorians were ok with photos of children in costume and/or partially undressed. But as the Victorians began to become interested in psychoanalytical theory, attitudes changed.

Giorgio de Chirico (1888-1978) was born in Athens. His father was an Italian railroad engineer busy putting up rails in Greece whereas his mother was a baroness of Genoese-Greek origins.

When de Chirico was 17, his father died and his mother decided that it was time to return to Italy. In Italy de Chirico began studying at the Academy of Fine Arts in Florence. But in 1911, de Chirico and his brother, Alberto Savinio, moved to Paris but had to return to Italy to enroll in the army as WWI broke out.

In 1817, the French writer Stendhal was visiting the church of Santa Croce in Florence. Fascinated, he couldn’t stop himself from wandering around it to admire its beauty. But after a while, he began to feel ill. He writes: “My heart was pounding, and I felt dizzy. All those works of extraordinary workmanship, so compressed into a limited space, were really too much for an aesthetic lover like me.

I had reached that level of emotion where the celestial sensations given by the arts and passionate feelings come together. Coming out of Santa Croce, I had a [strong] heartbeat; it was as if my life had dried up, I walked fearing I would fall.” A hundred years later, de Chirico would also experience an overwhelming sensation inside Santa Croce.

Almost 100 years later, de Chirico would have a similar sensation. In 1909, the artist was sitting in Piazza Santa Croce looking at the church. He’d recently recovered from an illness and was feeling weird. De Chirico writes that he was in “a nearly morbid state of sensitivity” causing him to feel as if he was seeing his surroundings for the first time. But he sees this epiphany moment as an enigma. Is the world in disguise? Is everyday life something so alien that one can never feel at home?

Metaphysics in philosophy exams the structure of reality. But how can one ever know what is real and what is not?

The Song of Love (1914) pursues the enigmas de Chirico was consumed by. There are certain recurring elements in these paintings such as the architectural setting, the Greek statues, and the trains puffing smoke. The latter is most likely a reference to his dad who helped with the construction of the Greek railroads.

The Uncertainty of the Poet (1913) shows the torso of Aphrodite next to a bunch of bananas that remind me of Josephine Baker’s dance costume.

In The Soothsayer’s Recompense, once again we have an empty city square, a train puffing smoke, and a Greek statue. This statue represents Ariadne, the daughter of Minos who helped Theseus escape from the Minotaur’s labyrinth. But once a free man, Theseus dumped Ariadne on the island of Naxos. He may be considered by some to be a divine hero but he most certainly was not a gentleman.

De Chirico spent the last 30 years of his life living at Piazza di Spagna in Rome with his wife Isabella Pakszwer Far. They had a magnificent home and a magnificent terrace that looked towards Villa Medici.

De Chirico, “Pictor Optimus”, although initially buried at the Verano Monumental Cemetery in Rome, was later reburied in the church of San Francesco a Ripa whereas his brother Alberto Savinio remained at Verano.

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Related: Brakes, Daphne du Maurier and Jim Barrie +

Giorgio de Chirico, The Soothsayer’s Recompense + Who Was Giorgio de Chirico? + The Neurology of Art – The Example of Giorgio de Chirico + Enigmas in Philip Guston’s de Chirico City + Video: Migraine aura +  Famous Artists with Migraine Throughout History + Rabbit Hole Syndrome: Inadvertent, accelerating, and entrenched commitment to conspiracy beliefs + The Neurological Disorders in Alice in Wonderland + Alice in Wonderland inspiration + De Chirico: le fasi pittoriche e l’influenza dell’aura emicranica +

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