by Gary M Burge
“And what is the best thing you’ve done this day?” She smiled and rested her slight hand on Tullus’s arm. Her fingers were light in their touch, and she drew patterns on his skin. She crossed her legs, and one of her feet slipped behind his calf, beneath the fringe of his tunic.
Tullus was nervous.
“We have just come from the arena. The new one. The spectacle that has arrived from Alexandria.” He began speaking rapidly—he knew this—and in a minute he was describing the arena, the horror of it, the dwarves and the panther, and the more he talked the surer he was that whatever had been building between them was beginning to slip away.
She withdrew her hand and folded it into the other that rested on her lap.
Tullus drank again from his chalice and tried to regain his composure. But he knew he did not want to go further with this woman and enact the scenes on the villa walls. It was not because he was afraid of what they might do together. This was all the men of Gallica talked about. They came to guesthouses like this regularly in Raphana. Tullus had never joined them, though he knew he was ready.
It was not what they might do together that worried him. It was what she might see when they were together. And this is what kept him from these houses.
It was Tullus’s deepest secret. And he had kept it ever since he left Emesa. There was something about him that no Roman would like, something most Romans scorned. No one in Appius’s household knew. And he could barely show it to a woman. Especially a woman like this. A woman who might laugh at him. Who might think him unmanly. It was a reminder to him that he wasn’t fully Roman. And never would be.
He was marked.
Tullus was circumcised.
Circumcision
When Romans thought about the Jewish minority that lived throughout the empire, two things came to mind: their commitment to observing the Sabbath and their tradition of circumcising their sons. Circumcision is the surgical removal a sheath of skin (the foreskin) found at the end of the penis. This was done on the child’s eighth day after birth (and is still done today among Jews, Muslims and many Christians).
Circumcision was considered the “tribal mark” of God among the Jews. After Abraham was called into a covenant relationship with God (Gen 12–15) he was circumcised (Gen 17). Genesis 17:10-14 makes the rule explicit: “This is my covenant, which you shall keep, between me and you and your offspring after you: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You shall be circumcised in the flesh of your foreskins, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and you. He who is eight days old among you shall be circumcised. Every male throughout your generations, whether born in your house or bought with your money from any foreigner who is not of your offspring, both he who is born in your house and he who is bought with your money, shall surely be circumcised. So shall my covenant be in your flesh an everlasting covenant. Any uncircumcised male who is not circumcised in the flesh of his foreskin shall be cut off from his people; he has broken my covenant” (ESV).
There is no such thing as female circumcision. The term has been wrongly used of the practice among some primitive Islamic groups and African tribes for the surgical removal of the clitoris before a girl reaches puberty (to destroy sexual desire). But this was not a biblical practice, and Jews and Christians abhor it as cruel and disfiguring. This practice is formally called a clitoridectomy.
5
Caesarea
Livia noticed the change as well. Appius was coming back to life. He often circulated back to the fort outside town to see that all was well. And yet, oddly, it had not become his home. Nor was Livia still his companion the way she had once been. Appius had emerged from his illness a different man. His wounds had hardened him, or perhaps they had invited something deep in Appius’s soul to come to the surface and claim a central place. Appius was businesslike. He had always been efficient, which was why Gaius was such an excellent match for him. But now he expressed even less emotion. Livia thought of it as detachment. He would sit at home and talk for hours about horses. But he would not notice that she was even in the room. Every attempt to draw his attention failed.
Livia was happy for him but also troubled. He rarely looked at her the way he used to. They never embraced. And they rarely talked about things that mattered. His arm still gave him debilitating pain and severely limited his range of motion. But he would not discuss it. In Livia’s mind the arrow was still there, threatening Appius’s life. Threatening both of their lives. And she wondered whether the wound had made Appius think of himself as incapable in ways in which he was capable before. Perhaps she reminded him of another Appius, another time, another man who had died at Dura. At the very least she knew the arrow had embedded itself in their relationship.
Livia spent most of her days talking to Gaius, which had never been an easy task. Now it was even more difficult. Even Gaius had become sullen and was drawing into himself.
Tullus came to the fort to visit the household more frequently than Appius. His face lit up when he saw each of them. He even had begun to like Gaius and found himself thinking about the slave’s strict habits as endearing. Gaius, for instance, hated seeing blood on the floor of his kitchen (“Animals must be cleaned in the market or the garden!”), and to Tullus and Livia this was asking a great deal of the slaves who prepared their food. Blood was always on the floor of a normal kitchen.
Gaius also hated the new clothes that Tullus and Livia had found in Caesarea. To him, the tunics had become too short, too sheer, too glamorous and too expensive. Livia, in his estimation, wore too much makeup.
And why, he thought, did she have to wear a dozen or more bracelets on one arm? Gaius had opinions about everything. And even when he didn’t say anything, his eyes told all. He believed Livia was immodest. And he thought Tullus was impulsive and immature. In his mind both failed to understand that how one disciplines one’s appetites now determines how one will succeed in life later. “Master your soul, young Tullus, and your arm will take care of itself.” These words could have been emblazoned on a wall, they were said so often.
Cosmetics for Women
Literary descriptions, burial portraits, frescoes and artifacts from excavations all prove that Roman women wore a great deal of makeup.
Figure 5.1. Cosmetic bottles
This included whitening foundations, rouge, mascara, eye shadow (similar to modern kohl, from lead sulfide), deodorants, enhanced eyebrows (which in some cases almost met above the nose), teeth whiteners and perfumes. Historians suspect that women did not color their lips. Some men viewed the overuse of cosmetics as implying that a woman was immoral and so preferred their wives not use them. However, their use was widespread, particularly among women in the upper classes.
Figure 5.2. A double cosmetic bottle
“Is that a new hat?” Tullus had brought home the newest fashion: a stiff-brimmed hat that reminded him of the sun god, Helios. “Are modest head coverings no longer in fashion?” Often Tullus would intentionally bring these things just to provoke Gaius. And Livia often stood by just to see Gaius rise to the moment. Livia didn’t think all his reactions were genuine. Gaius did have opinions, but when he expressed them in exaggerated forms it had become a game. One day she appeared at dinner with well over thirty bracelets on her right arm. It was so tedious that she couldn’t eat with them, and she complained to Gaius how fashion took such a toll. They batted back and forth the “right” number of bracelets a woman should wear for at least fifteen minutes.
Livia swore she caught a smile pass over the old slave’s face.
In Appius’s absence, Livia and Tullus had found a deepening friendship. It began as they discussed Appius and his changes, but it shifted as he made fewer and fewer appearances in the household. He was busy with the affairs of the province and so seemed less involved with the affairs of his familia. Tullus would spend the day with Appius. And when Appius went out with other centurions working in the province, often Tullus wandered back to the fort just to see Livia.
/> “I am not sure if Appius even knows why we are here anymore.” She was standing in the courtyard, helping Tullus unload provisions he had purchased in the markets. “I haven’t seen him in days, and when he is here, he’s not really here.”
“He has returned to life, Livia. He has regained so much that he lost. It’s the responsibility he holds again—and the confidence of the tribunes who assist the governor. He was a man who almost died. And it was by his strength that he recovered. And he is recovering still. Believe me.”
“But we see none of it.”
“We will. And in the meantime, we simply need to maintain his household as we always have. You, Gaius and me. We need to live as if he were present, obedient to his wishes even though he is not here to express them. This is how we honor him.”
The Helios Hat and Fashion
Every generation signals its differences from the previous generation with innovations in clothing, hairstyle and even music choices. These changes today are very rapid—more rapid, perhaps, than at any time in history. Fashions change within a couple of years or a season, and we think little of it. A hairstyle popular fifteen years ago would rarely be worn today by people who care about such things.
The Hellenistic era introduced a number of changes to traditional clothing. Romans enjoyed long, sweeping clothing that wrapped fluidly around the body. This replaced draped garments that hung down directly from the shoulders to the feet in one robe-like piece. Short togas with high-laced sandals were popular choices in the first century. And we know that stiff-brimmed hats were just making their appearance. The stiff brim reminded many of a halo, a symbol that evoked the sun god, Helios.
Because the hat symbolized assimilation into Hellenistic culture and could refer to a Greek god, many Jewish leaders opposed it (see 2 Maccabees 4:7-17) and compared its use with a profound loss of Jewish faith. Such men (so argues 2 Maccabees) also neglected the temple sacrifices and worship and instead were infatuated with the gymnasium and events such as the “call to the discus.” Such things were labeled an extreme form of Hellenization and completely “unlawful.”
“And in the meantime? I am to wait without hope?”
“There is always hope.” Tullus turned toward her, moved closer and took her hands. “There is always hope, Livia. Appius is committed to us, and now he shows it by giving us money to pay for what we need. We are still a part of his familia—he has not sent us off to find a new life without us. He has not discharged any of us. He has not abandoned us.”
“But hope begins to thin when there is little promise. When he left on marches with the legion, I always knew he was eager to come back to me. He always promised me as I kissed him at our gate. It was a kiss of longing, of incompletion, that promised something more would come. I have lost that promise. I know he rarely thinks about me, rarely wonders where I am. Rarely imagines himself with me.”
“You are not alone, Livia. You will never be alone.”
“I do have Gaius and you.” She paused. “But especially you. You have always been faithful to me, Tullus. Always kind, always honorable. Not like the men who look at me on the street. You know me.”
Tullus felt something new. He was looking directly at Livia, and a distance had closed. An invisible wall was being dismantled, one built by both of them, but him in particular. He considered ignoring the wall entirely, moving deeper into this new and forbidden territory.
Tullus looked at her with different eyes. He noticed the scented oil she wore, making her skin shine radiantly in the sun and emitting the faint aroma of jasmine. Her eyes, moist and amber, looked at him in a way that anticipated something more, something he was not sure how to express. Time seemed suspended. He was afraid and thrilled, and wanted to yield to the pull. Where it would lead, he did not know. Nor was he sure he cared.
That last thought flooded him with adrenaline and fear. He stepped back.
The Roman Familia
The Roman familia was an economic or social unit whose protection and preservation was the highest order of commitment for Rome. It was not limited to the intimate arrangements we know as the “nuclear family” today. A better translation might be a “household,” which included spouses, children and various types of slaves. In some cases this could consist of unrelated people whose cooperation made them “one.” Therefore when Appius refers to Tullus as belonging to his familia, he is making a statement that has less to do with emotion than with commitment (although emotional attachment often played an important role).
Figure 5.3. Painting of a woman
The paterfamilias was the head of the household (hence the “father” of the familia). Roman society was strongly patriarchal, and the male head of the family could exercise enormous power. He could discharge or divorce his wife easily; he accepted or rejected the children born in his household; he could even “expose” (or kill by exposure) any newborn child he did not want. He had complete authority over his slaves and could sell, punish or even kill them, since laws respecting persons did not apply to them. Appius was the paterfamilias of his familia.
And just then he saw Gaius. Impatient because he wanted what Tullus carried—but also wearing a knowing scowl, awareness and alarm in his eyes as he glanced back and forth, sizing up each of them. Gaius knew. Nothing escaped him. He knew. And he didn’t like what he saw.
Livia turned quickly when she saw Tullus turn toward the door. She also saw Gaius, blushed, and with her eyes down walked quickly past him and into their rooms. Gaius followed her.
This moment shifted the equilibrium of the entire household. Tullus felt sure the rest of the slaves knew. Gaius seemed alert and awakened from his darkness. There was a new reality in the house, one as dangerous as any Parthian. If the arrow of Dura had nearly killed Appius, Gaius thought, this new arrow—shot perhaps by Eros himself—could lead to something equally violent. For Livia, for Gaius and most certainly for Tullus.
Tullus was chastened. And his visits became less frequent, shorter and more intentional. He once sent a courier from the main barracks to give Gaius the weekly money he needed. He carried no word to be delivered to Livia.
“But certainly Tullus said something. Surely he mentioned me as he sent you out.”
“No, he did not. He told me to be quick and to return at once. Not to linger with anyone.” Which Livia interpreted to mean her and her alone. Gaius turned his attention to the courier, and they negotiated their business. Gaius was holding a note from Tullus that the courier had read aloud. But Livia began to worry. What if Tullus was in trouble?
Papyrus and Wax
Writing instruments had developed significantly in the first century. Students would commonly own a wooden tablet with a thick wax coating on one side. This was used with a wooden stylus that etched the surface of the wax for temporary writing that could be later removed.
For documents the preferred writing surfaces were papyrus and vellum. Papyrus is a reed-like plant that was harvested along the Nile delta in Egypt. The inner pith was split, soaked in water and then laid out in two layers set at right angles to each other to make flat sheets, then sanded and dried. It made a remarkably durable and smooth paper that could be cut to fit commercial sizes. Vellum was sheepskin that was scraped, cured, stretched and dried. This was far more expensive and was used for permanent documents.
Figure 5.4. Wall painting from Pompeii showing a couple with writing implements, she with a stylus and wax tablet and he with a scroll
The courier left their rooms, Gaius walking with him. Livia picked up the small papyrus scrap Tullus had penned and ran her fingers over its expert letters. She could not read, but she knew that these marks could re-create the voice of their author. On a corner the ink had smudged and captured the fingerprint of its writer. Livia pressed it with her own hand, slipped her finger where his had once been and held it close to her face. And then she decided. She would follow the courier back through town just to confirm that Tullus was safe. Nothing more. She just wanted to see whether T
ullus was well.
The courier was in no hurry. No one knew the duration of his journey or the length of his stay at the fort, so he wandered leisurely for a time through the center of Caesarea. Livia kept a distance but never lost sight of him. His unhurried pace meant her movements were not obvious and she could pause at merchant stalls lining the narrow city streets.
Eventually the courier began to walk decisively toward the city port. Livia knew his destination had to be the barracks of the centurions, where Appius and Tullus worked. But danger loomed. What if Appius met her unexpectedly? How would she explain being at the military camp unaccompanied, a young single woman, officially attached to Appius but not looking for him? Common infantry might find her and think wrongly of her. In her impulsive haste she had failed to even veil herself and was clothed only in a common household tunic and sandals. Nothing that an honorable woman would wear in public.
The courier entered through the main gateway leading to the provincial offices. Livia watched him from the corner of a nearby building and knew she could not go further. Guards stood outside the gate. Not only would they forbid her passage, but they also might detain her and inquire after her intentions. But she did not turn back. She waited in hiding until she could no longer discipline her own impulses. Then she stepped out and headed toward the gate.