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Books 2010: 104
104. Terence, The Comedies, translated by Peter Brown, Oxford, 2006.
P. Terentius Afer is a Latin playwright of the second century BC. Before his early death in 159BC, he wrote six plays that we know of, all of which survive. These are largely adaptations of Greek "New Comedies" by Menander or Apollodorus of Carystus, and retain their Greek setting and - mostly - sensibilities. The introduction to the Oxford World's Classics edition informs one that fabulae palliatae ("plays in a Greek cloak") were an established genre in Rome at this time, as opposed to the relatively new togatae.
This edition includes all six of his plays, "The Girl from Andros," "The Mother-in-Law," "The Self-Tormentor," "The Eunuch," "Phormio," and "The Brothers," in the order in which they were originally performed. ("The Mother-in-Law" was performed three times, due to being twice run off the stage.) They are lively and frequently given to wit. For a modern audience, however, the prominence of rape is disturbing. Its prior occurence is central to the plots of "The Mother-in-Law" and "The Brothers," and it happens off-stages (and is recounted in triumphant detail on-stage) in "The Eunuch." The happy ending, of course, is that the girl is a citizen woman and is married off to her rapist. Rape was less of a danger to a woman's social position and reputation in antiquity than seduction: seduction compromised her sophronia, whereas a case of rape cast her as the victim.
Consent is hardly ever portrayed as integral to modern relationships. The ancient world has an even more fucked-up view of consent than we do. But we are speaking of a world where the idea of bodily autonomy, except for males of the citizen class, did not exist. Only a couple of centuries early, Aristotle had formulated the idea of natural slavery (which remained influential right down to the latter part of the 19th century, just in case anyone's forgotten). And Terence makes it very clear that it is only rape of a citizen woman which is objectionable: Chaerea, in "The Eunuch," rapes a citizen woman believing that she is a slave, and it is clear that had she not turned out to be a citizen, no consequences would have attached to his act. As it is, the only consequence which results is his marriage.
The virtue of history is empathy. It is looking at what are often very repellent - or incomprehensible - attitudes, and exerting oneself to understand them. Fascinating as I find the ancient world, it also digusts me. And yet one can appreciate its achievements and fascinating puzzles without condoning its attitudes.
104. Terence, The Comedies, translated by Peter Brown, Oxford, 2006.
P. Terentius Afer is a Latin playwright of the second century BC. Before his early death in 159BC, he wrote six plays that we know of, all of which survive. These are largely adaptations of Greek "New Comedies" by Menander or Apollodorus of Carystus, and retain their Greek setting and - mostly - sensibilities. The introduction to the Oxford World's Classics edition informs one that fabulae palliatae ("plays in a Greek cloak") were an established genre in Rome at this time, as opposed to the relatively new togatae.
This edition includes all six of his plays, "The Girl from Andros," "The Mother-in-Law," "The Self-Tormentor," "The Eunuch," "Phormio," and "The Brothers," in the order in which they were originally performed. ("The Mother-in-Law" was performed three times, due to being twice run off the stage.) They are lively and frequently given to wit. For a modern audience, however, the prominence of rape is disturbing. Its prior occurence is central to the plots of "The Mother-in-Law" and "The Brothers," and it happens off-stages (and is recounted in triumphant detail on-stage) in "The Eunuch." The happy ending, of course, is that the girl is a citizen woman and is married off to her rapist. Rape was less of a danger to a woman's social position and reputation in antiquity than seduction: seduction compromised her sophronia, whereas a case of rape cast her as the victim.
Consent is hardly ever portrayed as integral to modern relationships. The ancient world has an even more fucked-up view of consent than we do. But we are speaking of a world where the idea of bodily autonomy, except for males of the citizen class, did not exist. Only a couple of centuries early, Aristotle had formulated the idea of natural slavery (which remained influential right down to the latter part of the 19th century, just in case anyone's forgotten). And Terence makes it very clear that it is only rape of a citizen woman which is objectionable: Chaerea, in "The Eunuch," rapes a citizen woman believing that she is a slave, and it is clear that had she not turned out to be a citizen, no consequences would have attached to his act. As it is, the only consequence which results is his marriage.
The virtue of history is empathy. It is looking at what are often very repellent - or incomprehensible - attitudes, and exerting oneself to understand them. Fascinating as I find the ancient world, it also digusts me. And yet one can appreciate its achievements and fascinating puzzles without condoning its attitudes.
