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Why there’s a Rape Scene in my Novel
Rape of the Sabine Women
The life of Cleopatra Selene is a story so unlikely that magic sometimes seems like the only explanation.
But that isn’t why I chose to include magical realism in my book. I included my heroine’s ability to commune with her goddess through bloody hieroglyphs and some dominion over the wind, because I wanted my novels to be allegorical. I wanted to say something about the faith that sustained this young woman through her parents’ suicides and the murder of her siblings. I also wanted to tap into a more authentic portrayal of the ancients, for whom magic was a real, every day phenomenon.
I had similar reasons for including a rape scene in Song of the Nile.
I could say that I did it for historical authenticity, as if there were no choice on my part and I was merely tyrannized by the facts, but that would be disingenuous. Some have argued that editorial choices need not be dictated by history and I mostly agree with that statement. For example, it’s rare to encounter an unappealing hero or heroine even though it’s historically authentic to portray our characters as having bad teeth, bad breath, and horrible hygiene. (Okay, maybe not the latter in the case of the Romans, but you get the point.)
In short, even though history does constrain and dictate, authors still make choices about what to include so as to cater to an audience’s desires. But I would also argue that in a book where historical hygiene is an important metaphor, or illustrative of some greater point, it would be criminal to leave it out. It just so happens that not much in the artistic world hinges upon whether or not a character has bad breath.
By contrast, the constant threat of sexual violence under which historical women lived–almost entirely without recourse–is not only relevant to understanding their world, but also to understanding our own.
Rape is as omnipresent today as it was in ancient times–it’s just that only recently has it become recognized or rediscovered as a crime against women. In Selene’s time, such an offense would be viewed largely through a prism of how a rape might taint the honor of her father or husband. That’s an important shift in the progress of women’s equality and our recognition as full human beings. I believe, and have always believed, that it’s important to juxtapose our current reality with where we came from.
The Romans had a complicated history with rape. On the one hand, their origin story revolves around the famous “Rape of the Sabine Women” which consisted of a bunch of kidnappings, forced marriages and rapes in the more modern sense of the word. They were quite proud of this and re-enacted it during their wedding ceremonies. (Something I found appalling and wanted to address in my novel.) On the other hand, one of the great Roman heroines was Lucretia, who told her husband about her rape–and was believed. (Of course, then she killed herself, as the Romans believed a ‘shamed’ heroine must.)
Unfortunately, the Roman ideal of how women should respond to violation has woven itself into the very fabric of modern society. And insofar as fiction is meant to educate and enlighten, these are not trivial reasons for including a rape scene.
They certainly figured into my decision.
But art isn’t only about education and enlightenment. It’s meant to explore, to communicate, to spur the imagination and to provoke. So beyond the sociological reasons, I also had artistic ones.
Selene was the daughter of the most infamous seductress in the history of western civilization. Cleopatra was a strong and capable woman who came to be known, thanks to her enemy, almost entirely for her sexuality. This same enemy–a man who defined the respectable standards of female behavior not just in his time, but also well into our own–raised Cleopatra’s daughter in his own household until she was marriageable.
This made it imperative upon me, as an artistic endeavor, to explore his character and hers in the world I created, a combination of myth and history.
What kind of man was he, this Augustus, who was said to debauch virgins that his wife procured for him? A man who seems to have been obsessed with Cleopatra, long after she was dead. How would a man like Augustus, who was incapable of using might on a battlefield except through his friend Agrippa, have wielded power over the women in his household? (This is a man who banished his own daughter to a tiny island. She eventually starved to death.)
I wanted to know his dark soul.
I also wanted to know Selene’s soul. Her coping mechanisms. Her resilience. I wanted to imagine how she navigated the treacherous waters of imperial Rome. Why she always appears so modest in her statues, veiled and covered up. Why she was never known for any scandal during her long marriage to King Juba II. And I wanted to explore her story against that of the goddess with whom she would be linked–Kore.
You may have heard of Persephone or Proserpina but in Selene’s time, the goddess of spring who was raped by the god of the underworld was called Kore. Her story is immortal. Collecting flowers with her maidens in a field, she is taken by the dark lord of Hades. Her mother, in her grief, turns the whole world fallow. It is her mother–not her father–who fights to free Kore. Hearing that he must release the girl, the god of the underworld tricks Kore into eating the pomegranate seeds to ensure she is never entirely free of him.
Selene’s life seemed very much like that to me, so I exploited her biography and the myth in equal measure to make both come alive. That’s why I wrote a rape scene into my novel and why I’d do it again, but I don’t expect everyone to love that choice.
Food & Feasts in Ancient Rome: Mincemeat Recipe (#tastytuesday)
mincemeat tart
mincemeat tart
Guest Post by Melanie McDonald
One of the most fascinating research topics for Eromenos involved food: What foods were available, how those foods were prepared, and how members of the imperial court ate, especially in comparison with the citizens in the street—all of this gastronomic information provided great insight into what daily life was like in second-century Rome.
The Roman Empire had attained its zenith of wealth and power during the reign of Hadrian, the fourteenth emperor, and the Roman marketplace reflected this wide-flung dominion in the range and price of delicacies to be found in the stalls of Trajan’s Forum, including cheeses, olives and olive oil, herbs, fruits, nuts, honey, wine, fish sauce, fresh fish, smoked and dried fish, eels, shellfish, poultry, game, meats, sausages, and fresh baked bread. (Egypt served as the source of Imperial Rome’s breadbasket, providing about eight tons of grain per week to meet the Empire’s needs.)
Then there were the exotic spices, used not only to enhance cooking but also to provide fragrance for luxury products such as perfumes and scented hair pomades, that were brought to Rome by spice merchants who already had established a spice route to and from Asia and the East: frankincense, myrrh, ginger, turmeric, cloves, camphor, sandalwood, cardamom, sesame, cinnamon, nutmeg, and pepper.
Imperial feasts, often underwritten by rich citizens who hoped to gain favor with the emperor, might include such exotic fare as hummingbirds, thrush tongues, dormice (often honey-roasted), caviar, crayfish, snails, oysters, eels, wild game, and exotic, expensive fruits and vegetables such as peaches and artichokes. Fine wines, such as Falernian, often were served chilled, via snow brought from distant mountains at great expense to the banquet sponsors for just that purpose.
Hadrian himself, however, often passed on rich fare in order to dine more simply on grilled fish or lamb with olives and bread, such as he had eaten as a soldier.
The citizens, too, ate simpler fare. For the average citizen, a soup made with day-old bread stewed with beans and grain and topped with olive oil and herbs (a recipe that sounds quite similar to ribollita, a hearty soup still made in Italy) would have been a common daily ration. Although they did without modern conveniences such as gas and electric ranges and refrigeration, they still found many ways to both prepare and preserve their foods (meat, for example, might be salted, or even preserved by full immersion in honey).
A Roman cookbook attributed to Apicius, a gourmet who lived during the first century AD, survives today in various Latin, German, Italian and English translations, and now is available to the public online as an ebook, courtesy of Project Gutenberg.
Here’s one of the ancient recipes still preserved in its pages—a Roman version of mincemeat, Recipe No. 169 from Book IV, Chapter III:
MINUTAL EX PRÆCOQUIS (Minutal of Fruit)
In a sauce pan put oil, broth and wine, finely cut shallots, diced cooked pork shoulder. When this is cooked, crush pepper, cumin, dry mint, dill, moisten with honey, broth, raisin wine [and] a little vinegar, some of the gravy of the above morsels, add fruits the seeds of which have been taken out. Let boil. When thoroughly cooked, skim, bind, sprinkle with pepper and serve.
(From Cooking and Dining in Imperial Rome, Apicius; translator Joseph Dommers Vehling; commentator Prof. Frederick Starr; Project Gutenberg EBook #29728)
Stephanie, thank you so much for hosting & letting me participate in the food sessions, and I wish you and your readers the happiest of holidays!
Cheers,
Melanie
Bio: Melanie McDonald was awarded a 2008 Hawthornden Fellowship for Eromenos. She has an MFA from the University of Arkansas. Her short stories have appeared in New York Stories, Fugue, Indigenous Fiction, and online. An Arkansas native whose Campbell ancestors were Highland Scots, she now lives in Virginia with her husband, Kevin McDonald, the author of Above the Clouds: Managing Risk in the World of Cloud Computing.
The Emotional Drama Behind Ancient Rome’s Theatre of Marcellus
Reproduction of the Theatre of Marcellus on the Banks of the Tiber River (courtesy of VRoma)
Ancient Rome was going to get a new theatre; this was never in any doubt. Julius Caesar acquired and cleared the land on the shore of the Tiber River. However, his grand designs for the place were frustrated by his untimely assassination. Still, what are a few fatal dagger holes to the plans of an immortal? He was proclaimed, in death, to have ascended to the heavens as a god, and Augustus, his heir, continued on with the plan to build a theatre.
At some point, the project appears to have been delegated to the emperor’s young nephew, Marcellus. Now, the handsome young Marcellus wasn’t just the nephew of the emperor; he was also married to the emperor’s daughter, Julia. This made him the heir apparent. And if you wanted to be seen as an up and coming politician in ancient Rome, it behooved you to build a public building or two. Where Marcellus was supposed to have come up with the fortune to build the theatre is uncertain, but his mother, ambitious on his behalf, may have loaned him the coin.
Unfortunately for Rome, Marcellus had the bad grace to die unexpectedly of a fever or by drowning or some combination of the two. All of Rome agreed that it was tragically sad and Augustus was obliged to promise that he would complete the theatre as a memorial to his dead nephew and son-in-law. By transforming it from a simple donation of a wealthy patrician into a tribute to a dead member of the imperial family, the emperor may have imbued the building with much sentimentality.
Sketch of the Theatre from the Side
After all, a number of women in Rome mourned the death of Marcellus. Certainly, his mother Octavia would grieve for him the rest of her life; she died not long after the theatre was finally dedicated in her son’s name. The widow Julia may have had some special attachment to the theatre as well, especially considering her reputation as a patroness of the arts. Then there are the sisters of Marcellus–the Marcelli, the Antonias, and perhaps even a step-sister by the name of Cleopatra Selene.
The theatre was a massive undertaking, beautified by elaborate columns and white travertine. Designed to accommodate more than 11,000 people, it kept workers busy for years. Unfortunately, they didn’t work fast enough. By the time Augustus returned to Rome in 17 BC to celebrate the Secular Games and declare the beginning of a Golden Age, the theatre wasn’t finished. This had to be enormously frustrating for the imperial family as they were attempting to set themselves apart as a sacrosanct royal unit. In any case, the fact that the theatre wasn’t ready to be dedicated in the name of their beloved Marcellus did not deter the emperor.
Interior view. Which seats would you want?
Several performances and events were held in the unfinished theatre as part of the celebration as I will detail in my third and final novel in my series about Cleopatra’s daughter.
As someone who writes in ancient history, I sometimes feel myself disadvantaged. I envy those English history authors who can actually walk through in-tact castles. For me, this kind of reconstruction is the next best thing. I love being able to visualize the places my heroine may have walked. The places she’d have spent her time in Rome. The places all the little dramas of her life may have unfolded.
Now, the stage is set…and I’d better write the scene.
Beverages of Ancient Romanized North Africa: Recipes for Mint Tisane & Hibiscus Tea (#tastytuesday)
Modern Moroccan Mint Tea
So, we all know about the wine. Falernian, Caecuban, etc. Ancients drank the stuff in copious quantities. But what else did they drink? This was a point of inquiry for me when writing Song of the Nile: A Novel of Cleopatra’s daughter who became the highly Hellenized queen of an exotic North African kingdom. I wanted to know what kind of local beverages she may have been introduced to, but this turned into rather a lot of detective work because ancient Berber culture is largely lost to us.
We know that mint tea is ubiquitous in North Africa now. In Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria–which comprised the ancient kingdom of Mauretania–mint tea is an art form, poured at a distance so as to create a froth on the top of each cup. The love of mint tea should come as no surprise because mint grows easily in this climate. But the actual introduction of tea leaves is a relatively modern phenomenon. As it happens, refreshing mint beverages were served long before the introduction of tea leaves. The ancient Berbers drank an herbal infusion of mint leaves–essentially, a tea-less tea, or, if you prefer, a tisane.
You can make a version of this refreshing but old-fashioned treat at home very simply:
Mint Tisane Recipe
- 1 bunch Fresh Mint Leaves
- 1 bunch Lemon Verbena or Lavender (optional)
- 6 Cups Boiling Water
- Honey (or sugar–but the ancients didn’t have that)
1. Put mint leaves (and verbena/lavender) in bottom of tea-pot
2. Pour boiling water over leaves and leave to steep for at least five minutes
3. Strain for leaves (optional)
4. Add Honey to taste
5. Serve hot or cold
hibiscus "tea" soaking in a vat
Another ancient beverage is so-called Hibiscus tea. Again, there wouldn’t have been any actual tea-leaves in the ancient recipe, but this tart and refreshing infusion is rumored to have been a favorite of the pharaohs. So I imagine that Cleopatra Selene, whose mother was the last pharaoh of Egypt, may have treasured this taste of home.
Made from dried hibiscus flower petals, the beverage can be colorful and is said to convey numerous health benefits for its anti-oxidant properties.
Consider it to be a more ancient form of cranberry juice. Less pleasantly, it can stain, so be careful! It looks temptingly easy to make:
Hibiscus Tea Recipe
- 1 cup dried Hibiscus Flower Petals
- 8 cups boiling water
- Honey (or sugar–but the ancients didn’t have that)
1. Arrange flower petals at the bottom of a pot or bowl
2. Pour boiling water over the petals and let sit overnight
3. Pour infusion through a strainer into a pitcher and discard flower petals
4. Sweeten to taste with honey (or sugar if you want to be all modern about it)
5. Serve hot or cold
Courts of Law in Ancient Rome
I wish I could claim to add some original content to this article, but all I can do is link it and tell you how great it is. Caroline Lawrence has a gift for boiling things down to the essential and interesting and I don’t want to lose track of this information, so I’m blogging about it. Some interesting tidbits?
What to wear (defendant) – Today, if you go to court you usually dress as smartly as possible. In Roman times the defendants sometimes put on their oldest clothes and then tore their hair and scratched their cheeks to gain the sympathy of the judges. Sometimes they brought along their young children or aged parents. Cicero recounts a case in which he had ‘filled the Forum with sobs and laments’ by holding aloft the young son of the defendant. These family members, as well as the defendant, would often dress in rags and muss their hair to appear more pathetic.
And then of course, this little gem:
Prison? - Imprisonment was not a form of punishment in Roman times. In antiquity prisons were used only to hold suspects until trial. Sometimes houses were used as prisons, as the case with St Paul in Rome. If the person was convicted, the punishment could be a fine, a whipping, forced labour, or the death penalty. For freeborn citizens, this meant beheading. For slaves, this meant crucifixion. Some condemned criminals were executed in dramatic and entertaining ways during lunch break in the arena, in order to illustrate Greek myths.
