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The Fashion World of Cleopatra Selene and the Augustan Age

An Ancient Roman Woman Getting Ready to Go OutCleopatra VII of Egypt was the most fashionable woman in the ancient world. Like a modern day celebrity, she set the trends. During her visit to Rome, she made such a sensation that Roman matrons hurried to copy her distinctive hairstyles. It’s hard to believe that her daughter didn’t inherit just a touch of Cleopatra’s sense of style.

One of the most enjoyable things about writing my book was researching the clothes, cosmetics, jewelry and hairstyles of the period. But whereas Cleopatra was a trendsetter who ushered in an era of extravagance, such lavish indulgence went out of style after the famous queen’s suicide.

As if to define himself as the very opposite of the defeated Queen Cleopatra, Augustus preached of simple virtues, wearing homespun clothing and encouraging the women of his family to dress as modestly as possible. His wife, Livia, owned expensive jewelry (some of them having belonged to Cleopatra) but she seldom wore them in public, claiming that her children were her jewels. In official statuary, Livia and the other women of the imperial family are always portrayed in frumpy swaths of cloth, practically mummified in the name of virtue.

However, the emperor’s daughter, Julia Caesaris, is known for having worn fashion-forward clothing in public, in spite of her father’s complaints. During the Augustan Age, transparent Coan cloth was very popular, and it is thought to have been a form of silk. If dyed in expensive colors like purple or indigo, such a garment could have funded a small army. A woman’s gown always fell to her feet–only prostitutes wore anything short enough to show off ankles and knees. However, it’s almost certain that even well-bred ladies gave a flash of leg because the Romans didn’t have buttons or zippers or other modern fastenings. They used pins and clasps to keep their clothes fastened and for wealthy women, this was the way to show off expensive jeweled brooches.

And oh, how ancient Roman women loved to show off their jewelry and gems. Cleopatra Selene is known to have worn her mother’s amethyst ring, the famous one with which Cleopatra was said to have bewitched Mark Antony. It’s likely that she inherited some of her mother’s other famous adornments–perhaps some of the giant pearls and emeralds. I absolutely love the  serpentine armlets that were popular at the time, but I often wonder if the historical Selene would have wanted to raise that spectre of her mother’s apparent suicide by snake.

Women of the upper classes in Augustan Age Rome plucked all the hair from their bodies and used cosmetics. Given Selene’s Egyptian heritage, she may have lined her eyes with kohl, but given her strict upbringing in the emperor’s household, she’s unlikely to have painted her face until after she became queen in her own right.

Given her adherence to Isis, she may have worn her gown knotted between her breasts, and of course, when she became Queen of Mauretania, Gaetulian purple was one of her biggest exports, so she undoubtedly draped herself in imperial purple!

The San Francisco Book Review Says…

“Stephanie Dray’s Lily of the Nile is a spectacular blend of history and unforgettable fiction…Lily of the Nile is a fresh and vibrant story of family, loyalty, political games, and love. It’s exquisitely written and left me begging for more. The only letdown was that it had to end.” ~ San Francisco Book Review

Also, a review from Read My Mind. This is the first review that validates my presence on twitter.

“The reader spends most of the time feeling Selene’s displacement, and her struggle to maintain herself, in the midst of a culture that seemingly does not value anything she has been brought up to cherish.” ~AliseOnLife

And a review from the lovely Lynn Spencer from All About Romance:

“The author’s vision of a very faraway time and place kept me reading. Cleopatra Selene is an intelligent narrator and watching her grow up and reinvent herself following the death of her parents and her own captivity in Rome makes for compelling reading.” ~Lynn Spencer of All About Romance

I particularly enjoyed this review because I felt like this reviewer really shared my passions and understood exactly what I was trying to accomplish:

“A stunning novel that looks at how important Cleopatra Selene was to history, how her Ptolemaic heritage would eventually shape her future kingdom of Mauretania, and a look at how the Isaic faith was the forerunner of Christianity…the blending of Isaic magic and actual history give Lily of the Nile a flavor that’s all its own and allows it to stand out amongst the other countless historical novels in the aisles of Barnes and Noble.” ~Amanda Ferris, CamelClutchBlog

And last, but certainly not least, the short and sweet…

“LILY OF THE NILE is so vivid and lyrical I felt like I was standing beside Princess Cleopatra Selene throughout her inspirational journey. Stephanie Dray’s historical debut is meticulously researched and sets the bar for Cleopatra novels.” ~Julie from That’s Swell!

Juba II and Cleopatra Selene: Was it a Love Match?

The King and Queen of Mauretania enjoyed an apparently stable marriage of at least twenty years in duration. In a time when spouses were swapped like fruitcakes at family gatherings, this was somewhat of an anomaly and leads many to wonder whether or not theirs was a love story.

Birds of a Feather

The two certainly shared a pathos. She was the orphaned daughter of the ill-fated lovers, Cleopatra and Mark Antony. She was a princess of Egypt without a throne to inherit. He was a deposed princeling, the orphaned son of King Juba I of Numidia. As children, both Juba and Selene had been marched as chained prisoners in a Roman triumphal parade. Both had also been pardoned, fostered by Augustus, and reared to adulthood as nominal members of the imperial family.

There is some indication that the match was suggested by the emperor’s sister, Octavia, who seems to have spent much of her life arranging marriages and tending to the children of others. Having observed Juba and Selene in her household, did Octavia sense that the young couple had romantic feelings for one another?

It’s entirely possible that as a Ptolemy, Selene’s love of learning drew her to Juba, the scholarly Numidian. A bust that has been identified as Juba II shows him to have been a remarkably handsome young man, so Selene may have found him quite attractive. Moreover, Juba seems to have been capable in military situations. What better way to earn the respect of Antony’s daughter?

Juba was, in fact, a remarkable man in every respect. A prodigy and scholar, he was insatiably curious. He wrote at least fifty books and made important contributions to the scholarship of the ancient world. He also seems to have been an able politician–at least insofar as it fell to him to stay on the right side of Augustus. Like other client kings, Juba walked a tightrope between national independence and obedience to Rome, but he never fell from grace–at least not during Selene’s lifetime. (Perhaps we can credit some of his good political sense to her.)

In summary, Selene would’ve had every reason to love Juba and it’s equally possible that Juba’s heart went out to the young Egyptian princess who, like him, had lost everything. Her status and influence over his reign suggests his deep respect, perhaps even a subservience to her.

Indeed, there are many indications that the marriage between Juba and Selene was an amicable one. The two managed affairs in Mauretania as co-rulers. Selene had the power to mint her own coins and her influence is felt everywhere in the relics of their capital city. Juba seems to have wholeheartedly embraced the legacy of the Ptolemies on his wife’s behalf and in 20 BC they started to appear on coins together. Perhaps theirs was a love match.

On the other hand, marrying Selene off to the newly made king of far-away Mauretania was a political convenience for Augustus.

A Princess Bride

Both Mark Antony and Cleopatra always had their partisans–even after defeat. As their daughter, Selene would have made a tempting prize for any Roman who intended to challenge Augustus for power. What’s more, any Roman son born to her may have served as a rallying cry to Mark Antony’s legions and loyalists. (That Antony’s offspring remained a threat to Augustus can be demonstrated by the example of Iullus Antonius, whose status as a member of the imperial family did not protect him when he was accused of having taken the emperor’s daughter as a lover and was implicated in some manner of treason against Augustus.)

In short, Selene was a dangerous girl to have in Rome.

Moreover, as the daughter of Cleopatra, neither could she be easily married off to one of the client kings in the East. Selene was the last of the Ptolemies; her blood was the most royal blood left in the world. She maintained a persuasive dynastic claim to Egypt and its surrounds. A marriage to Selene might help cement an alliance with Rome–but Selene’s Ptolemaic legacy might also create ambitions in a king to turn against Rome and ally with Parthia instead. And if that weren’t bad enough, as her mother’s daughter, Selene’s presence in the East might well have ignited a rivalry with King Herod.

Thus, marrying Selene to Juba and sending them both to Mauretania was the wisest political course of action. Mauretania was closer to Spain than to Egypt–none of Cleopatra’s old allies would be near by to whisper mischief in the ear of her daughter. Moreover, Juba seems to have been completely trusted and completely beholden to Augustus. Perhaps it was thought that Juba could control Selene and prevent her from pursuing any ambitions she may have had to return to Egypt. Also, it may have crossed Augustus’ mind to ensure Juba’s loyalty by rewarding him with the most prestigious princess in the western world.

We must recall that in the world of imperial politics, love seldom played a role in marriage–and if it did, it often had disastrous results. Augustus built his career on the idea that unlike a besotted Mark Antony who allegedly betrayed his country for love, his first love was and always would be Rome. Augustus seems to have set out to prove it by rather ruthlessly meddling in the love lives of his family, arranging and re-arranging marriages to suit his political purposes with apparent disregard for the feelings of those involved. (Just one example is when he forced his step-son Tiberius to divorce the wife he adored and then, when he discovered that Tiberius had followed his former wife with tears in his eyes, he forbid the two from seeing each other ever again.)

Beyond the cold, hard political realities, there are other indications that all was not flowers and rainbows between Juba and Selene.

Won’t Someone Think of the Children?

Though Selene’s parents were two of the most famously fertile individuals in ancient history, it is only certain that Selene had one son–a son who was born to her late in life and may have hastened her death. The name she chose for him is both the single most telling detail about her life and the most mysterious. Breaking with ancient tradition, her son wasn’t named after Juba or his family. Instead, Selene’s son was named Ptolemy. The importance of this cannot be overstated. It indicates that even after having been married to Selene and ruling his own country for at least a decade, Juba’s lineage was still considered to be inferior to hers. Perhaps it indicates that she was the true ruler of Mauretania. It also may have led some to question whether or not he was even the father of the boy.

That only one known child would have come from such a long marriage puts the idea that it was a love match to the test. In a time when it would have been considered their duty to produce children, perhaps Juba and Selene did not fancy sharing one another’s bed. On the other hand, child mortality rates were extremely high in the ancient world. There may well have been other children that we just don’t know about.

An inscription from ancient Athens indicated that Juba had a son and a daughter, who is unnamed. However, this daughter need not have been the child of Cleopatra Selene. Historians have argued that as a Roman citizen, Juba was unlikely to have broken with Roman law and taken more than one wife at a time. It must be pointed out, however, that like Juba, King Herod was also a Roman citizen and had more wives than he could keep track of. Juba’s father had kept many wives and it’s entirely possible that the young king may have done the same to earn the respect of his Berber peoples. It strikes me that admirers of King Juba II who insist that he couldn’t have taken a second wife because he wouldn’t have taken a second wife may be projecting onto him some virtues of modern morality. After all, even the most Roman of the Romans–Julius Caesar–is rumored to have tried to pass a law that would allow him to take more than one wife. A more persuasive argument, to my mind, is that Archelaus the King of Cappadocia was unlikely to allow his daughter, Glaphyra, to play second-wife to Cleopatra’s daughter.

So, what of Juba’s daughter? We know that Juba was married a second time to Glaphyra of Cappadocia, and whether or not Selene was alive at the time, the daughter may have been hers. Professor Duane Roller has suggested that Juba may have reinstated the tradition of a harem, in which case this unnamed daughter may have belonged to a concubine. (If so, it seems less likely that she would be mentioned in an inscription.) But the most probable explanation is that the girl mentioned in the inscription is Selene’s daughter. If so, the girl was likely named in the tradition of the Ptolemaic dynasty. Another Cleopatra Something or Berenice or Arsinoe. (In my own forthcoming novel, Song of the Nile, she will be named Cleopatra Isidora.)

A third child is also hinted at. Some scholars have suggested that Selene may have had two sons, both named Ptolemy, one of whom died young. This would reconcile some confusion in the historical record about Ptolemy’s age, and might also explain why Selene would have tried for another child so late in life when it was so dangerous for her to do so. If true, it would mean that Ptolemy wasn’t the only son born to Juba and Selene, but the only surviving son.

If, however, Ptolemy’s was the only child ever born to Selene and Juba, this isn’t the only hint at marital discord between the two monarchs.

Opposites Attract?

The two main centers of Mauretania were Iol-Caesaria, the relics of which reveal Selene’s overwhelming influence, and Volubilis, the relics of which do not. Is it possible the two monarchs kept separate homes in separate cities? Certainly, Juba’s geographical work suggests a great deal of travel on his part–a pattern confirmed by his later activities accompanying Gaius Caesar in the East. While Juba chronicled the flora and fauna of his kingdom, Selene was apparently busy at work, building up Iol-Caesaria’s architecture, reproducing Alexandria in miniature. It may have been a case of complementary strengths creating a strong union–or it may have been a case of a married couple pursuing their own interests, the other be damned.

Though Selene and Juba are thought to have been married in 25 BC she would not appear on the coinage of the realm as a co-ruler until 20 BC. Moreover, the way each would present themselves on coins is extremely telling. Juba’s coins are in Latin, with only one known exception. His coins are deferential to Rome, in perfect order. Selene’s coins are always in Greek, often flouting the emperor’s official narrative by celebrating her dead mother–an enemy of Rome, elevating the goddess Isis–who was deeply out of favor with Augustus, and hinting that either Egypt would soon break free of its bonds or that she represented the throne of Egypt in exile. The coins are the most enduring record of Selene’s reign as queen and they are so provocative that it leads one to wonder what proclamations or official documents must have been flying back and forth across the Mediterranean.

Perhaps this was a calculated strategy between Juba and Selene to present different faces to different powerful factions, thereby maintaining a balance of peace in Mauretania. Juba was the obvious choice to appease the concerns of Roman settlers; he wasn’t just a king; he’d also been granted magisterial powers elsewhere in the empire as an agent of Augustus. Meanwhile, Cleopatra Selene could give the native Berbers and imported Alexandrians of her kingdom the appearance of token resistance to Roman hegemony. After her mother, she was the best hope for Isis worshippers, the best representative of Hellenism, and the last vestige of the Ptolemaic dynasty. It may have been a shrewd thing for Juba and Selene to pretend that they had different visions for their kingdom.

On the other hand, the stark contrast between the way Selene and Juba presented themselves may reflect a genuine schism. Selene seems never to have suffered the slightest censure for her hubris, and one can only surmise that this is because she enjoyed an extraordinary relationship with Augustus. Either that, or Augustus decided to leave it to Juba to discipline his wayward wife. What awkward family dinners may have been the result?

Unfortunately, the mystery surrounding Selene’s death makes it even more difficult to determine what kind of emotional relationship the two shared. If the poem written by Crinagoras of Mytilene that describes Selene as having died during a lunar eclipse is taken literally, astronomers can narrow down the possibility to a few dates. The current theory is that Selene died in 5 BC while her son was still very young, and that the best evidence of her death is that Juba married Glaphyra some time between 1 AD-6 AD. As a Romanized prince, the argument goes, Juba simply would not have married Glaphyra if Selene was still alive.

However, the strange circumstances surrounding Juba’s marriage to Glaphyra raise all manner of questions. For one, Juba appears to have met Glaphyra while on expedition. If Selene was deceased, it would mean that our grieving widower would have left behind–for a number of years–at least one young child and a kingdom in flux without a ruler. This may be why it has more traditionally been supposed that Selene was in control of Mauretania while Juba was away. Her regency would also explain the cache of coins that has been discovered, indicating Selene minting her own currency as late as 17 AD–a currency that featured her and her alone. More interesting is the nearly concurrent uprising of the Berber tribes in Juba’s lands with his hasty divorce from Glaphyra, upon which he hot-footed it back to Mauretania.

Did a resentful Selene allow the political situation to get out of hand so that Juba would be forced to return home? Was he compelled to divorce Glaphyra to keep his throne? If so, was it because Augustus worried about an alliance between Juba and the Judean dynasty, or because Selene would not tolerate a rival?

It has been suggested that the puzzling cache of coins depicting Selene alone was minted by Juba as a commemorative of his late wife–perhaps to smooth over tempers, to remind his people who the mother of his son had been, perhaps as an apology for marrying Glaphyra, who seems never to have set foot in Mauretania. If so, this would indicate some measure of deep and abiding affection for Selene–if not on Juba’s part, then at least on behalf of the Mauretanian people over which she ruled for so many years.

So, was it a love match? You tell me!

The Not So Proverbial Fig Leaf

When I schedule events in bookstores, I try not to limit myself to sitting behind a table waiting to pounce on passersby and ask them to buy my book. That always seems like a recipe for social awkwardness, so I like to give a talk. It helps to entertain the crowds and gives me something to do other than point out where the bathroom is or help a customer find Stacy Schiff’s latest biography.

Given that my limited expertise is related to completely trivial information about people who have been dead for thousands of years, coming up with an interesting talk was a challenge. However, one of my favorites is called Bad Girls of the Ancient World. It’s a great lecture to give in promoting Lily of the Nile, because my heroine, Cleopatra Selene, happens to be related to a startling number of history’s Girls Gone Wild.

However, as a recent bookstore manager reminded me, Barnes & Noble is a family establishment. To that end, I began to worry about my handouts which include the obligatory half-naked painting of Cleopatra VII of Egypt and a somewhat racier depiction of the seduction of Olympias.

Now, some of my friends have tried to convince me that what I’m looking at in this painting is actually a foot, but having counted up the various limbs involved in this sexual tryst, I’m not sure that I agree. So, I submit the matter to my mature readers to decide. Does that look like a foot on her knee or is he happy to see her?

Hence, my dilemma.

Option #1 involved cropping off the offending foot, which rather diminishes the intensity of the artistic rendition. Or…option #2…

The not so proverbial fig leaf.

And since this talk is as much about feminism and equal opportunity as it is about ancient history, perhaps I should go with this…

It starts to get a bit silly, doesn’t it? And I admit to being obnoxed by the idea that famous paintings might not be considered family friendly or safe for young women to view. I’m sure Augustus would have agreed and that, in itself, makes me feel rebellious.

What do you think?

A Deleted Scene from Lily of the Nile

Queen Cleopatra wore her black priestess gown–the one with the silver stars and the knot of Isis between her breasts. If she’d known her barge was going to arrive at the sacred isle while the blistering sun was this high, she would have worn the white linen that the Romans found so scandalous.

This time of year, ocean breezes cooled Alexandria, but here in Aswan was the driest and most withering heat anywhere in Egypt. Perspiration pooled between the queen’s shoulder blades and the servants fanned her with ostrich feathers, swaying in time with the rowers below deck, but their efforts were in vain. Even the queen’s small daughter complained of thirst.

“So drink!” Cleopatra commanded. “Iras set a cup of water right beside you.”

The girl’s fair hair coiled damply on her brow and her rose-pink lips formed a pout. “I don’t want water. Fat Mardion promised that if I came with you to Philae there’d be pomegranate juice. It’s what he drinks in the heat.”

“Which is why he’s Fat Mardion,” Cleopatra said archly, but her daughter wasn’t amused. In truth, Cleopatra wished she’d taken her trusted eunuch along because he was indulgent with the children whereas the queen herself wasn’t very patient.

It wasn’t that Selene was an ill-mannered child; it was just that the girl didn’t like to be apart from her twin brother and Cleopatra supposed she should have taken some solace in her children’s love for one another. After all, she had been raised in a nest of fratricidal Ptolemy eaglets, each willing to tear the other to shreds and her earliest terrors were born of the days when her siblings fought for the throne of Egypt.

Luckily, none of her own four children showed signs of murderous ambition. No, her children loved each other as brothers and sisters should—except for the twins, who held some bond between them that went beyond love. When separated, Selene and Helios were like half a person each, one brooding, the other complaining until they were reunited once again. Their bond touched the queen’s heart, but it also worried her, for she’d seen into the Nile of Eternity…

The oarsmen pulled up their paddles as the barge approached the landing. “Do we swim now?” Selene asked and without waiting for an answer, the girl pulled the ribbons from her hair and threw them on the deck with a flourish. Not a single servant even looked askance, delighted as they all were with the antics of the queen’s little girl.

On the riverbank, the priests had gathered. Musicians played their double-reeded clarinets, serving girls threw pink flower petals into the water, and worshippers knelt in homage to Queen Cleopatra, their Pharaoh and the New Isis. Soon, she’d greet them and give the blessings they craved from her. Then, she’d visit the Nilometer, which would tell her whether her people would feast this year, or starve. But first, before any of this, before everything, she must be a bride of Egypt. She must be Isis for Osirus. She must be divine wife to divine husband.

Iras and Charmion were already disrobing her for the ritualized lovemaking when Selene whined, “Why couldn’t Helios come with us? He’d protect us from the crocodiles.”

“Crocodiles will never harm you,” the queen said. “You’re a child of Isis and sacred to all in Egypt, even the beasts. Besides, your brothers aren’t with us because there are some things only queens can do.”

This caught her daughter’s attention. “There are things kings can’t do? Not even Kings of Egypt, like Caesarion?”

“Can a man suckle an infant?” Cleopatra asked as her hair was unbound. “Neither can a king nourish his kingdom. He can protect and defend it. He can rule his people justly. But he cannot feed his people except through Isis. This is why no man comes to be Pharaoh without wedding Pharaoh’s daughter, and why your brother Caesarion will one day need you to be a very good wife and queen.”

Selene’s emerald gaze was very shrewd and the queen decided that she’d been right to take the girl on this journey, even at so young an age. “Every year, the river rises to wash away all the dead vegetation from the dry cracked land. It deposits black fertile soil in its place. Then the farmers grow their wheat, and the laborers cut the wheat with their scythes and the bakers make it into bread.”

“I know that.” Selene gave a delicate, and very regal, roll of her eyes.

“Then tell me why the Nile rises?” Cleopatra asked, stepping out of her black robes without inhibition. Her naked body wasn’t as perfect as it once was, but since having children of her own, she was more womanly now and perhaps more beautiful to the river god that awaited her.

“Is it part of the mysteries?” Selene asked.

“One of many. It is love,” the queen explained. “No man can rise to create life without a lover, and neither can the river.” She saw that Selene didn’t understand, so she continued, “Before the dark god Set cut Osirus into pieces, he first drowned the good god of grain in the Nile. Here at Philae, on these very river banks is where Isis first wept for her murdered husband. This is where she brought him back to life with her magic. The spirit of Osiris lives here now, in the depths of the river. Here, he waits for his love, for Isis, and each year he swells to make love to her.”

“And she comes to him as Egypt’s queen…”

“Just so,” Cleopatra said, removing her amethyst ring–a gift from Antony, a wedding ring, though Octavian’s propagandists claimed otherwise. “And so, no matter which man you take into your heart, when it comes to the land you rule, you must always love it like a faithful wife. Today we will meet the Nile and make tribute to it, like a bride to a bridegroom.”

“I’m too little to be a bride,” Selene pointed out.

Cleopatra sighed at her daughter’s innocence. “Not for long, My Sweet. One day, you’ll be a beautiful maiden, then a loving mother, and then, hopefully, a wise old crone. But of these three, it’s your life as a mother that will serve Egypt best.”

“And please the king,” Selene said.

“No.” Cleopatra stiffened. “Have a child for Isis, for Egypt and for yourself before you do it to please any man. Your children will be rulers, and their divine ichor come to them through their mother’s milk–no matter who their father might be.”

“But what of the divine Julius?”

What of him, indeed? Oh, the heartbreak! But, Cleopatra stilled her heart. There was still Caesarion, there was still Egypt, and there were her little twins, from whom the whole world expected great things.

“I loved Gaius,” Cleopatra said with as matter-of-fact a tone as she could muster when speaking of Caesar. “But I loved him too much. I stayed too long as a mortal with Caesar in Rome, and without me, the Nile fell below the cubits of death and my people suffered. It was a mistake I’ll never make again.”

With that, the queen allowed her servants to lower her down the ladder until she was standing in the shallows. The mud of the Nile was like silken bed sheets beneath her feet. The river was as warm as a lotus scented bath, and as the frogs sang their chorus, heka tingled at Cleopatra’s fingertips. Feeling the magic flowing through her, the queen held her arms out to her daughter.

“Come, Selene. Meet Osirus.”

Selene lingered at the side of the barge, unwilling to come down the ladder even when the servants encouraged her into the river. It was only when Cleopatra commanded it that the girl leapt with a splash. Her little feet didn’t reach the bottom, and she flailed in the water until the queen caught her under the arms. “Shhh, Selene. You carry Isis with you wherever you go, but you’ve been promised to Egypt. The Nile waits here, pining for your love. For your surrender and rapturous embrace.”

With that, the queen loosened her hold, knowing the little girl would have to swim on her own. Already, the Nile’s green waves lapped at Cleopatra’s consciousness, drawing her into the marshy reeds of a waking dream where life teemed.

She is the resurrection.,” Cleopatra prayed. “She brings life from death. She gives to her kingdom an heir, she gives to her people their daily sustenance, and she gives Isis an embodiment on earth for Osiris to love.

Cleopatra saw the frog and the minnows, the life-giving silt settling onto the fields beyond, and everywhere she turned in the water, the birds flocked and water lilies blossomed. With her fingers, she traced lazy circles into the river bringing fish leaping to the surface. She passed dried brown foliage as she made her way to shore, and it sprouted green with life again. She gazed upon the washed up carcass of a snake and it arose, coiled and shimmering. It was an Egyptian cobra and its hood swelled for her like the phallus of an eager lover.