Falco: The Official Companion (A Marcus Didius Falco Mystery)
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When I mention latrunculi, there is an extra reference to ‘Stuff that for a game of soldiers’ (where ‘stuff’, though onomatopoeic, is not my actual word), modern slang for, ‘I won’t do that because it sounds unpleasant and likely to go wrong’. I might use this, for example, while thinking, ‘shall I meticulously distinguish between latrunculi and duodecim scripta? – oh, ****** that for a game of soldiers!’
Although public gambling was illegal, there was much dicing, as seen in a very famous wall painting of two men quarrelling at an inn. I’d like Falco to use dicing argot, but we know very little. He must confine his metaphors to weighted dice – of which surprising numbers are known to archaeologists.
Kottabos
Falco gives a world-weary description when faced by young men engaged in this messy Greek party game: kottabos was invented by a group of uproarious drunks. You have a tall stand with a large bronze disc suspended horizontally halfway up. A small metal target is balanced on the top of the stand. The players drink their wine then flick their cups to expel the dregs. They aim to make the flying lees hit the target so it falls off and hits the lower disc with a noise like a bell. All the wine they flick splatters the room and themselves. [DLC]
There are other references to the pastime which, according to our jaded hero, explains why the Greeks no longer rule the world. He is in Athens when he says that; the boy knows no fear.
Roman Names: the Trianomina
I refrained from saying that only select members of my family were permitted to use my personal name … [PG]
This subject really worries some readers.
A certain Ján Ludwig Hoch renamed himself Ian Robert Maxwell, then used the second of his forenames because he believed that was what British aristocrats did … In Rome, the complexities may have been as subtle. Rules existed, so textbook writers regurgitate them, apparently believing the Romans were a law-abiding people.
Ideally, a free man had three names: praenomen, nomen, cognomen; a woman had two. A man was officially described according to the lex Julia municipalis; so in documents or inscriptions our hero is:
Marcus Didius, son of Marcus,
of the Falerina voting tribe, Falco
You didn’t know his voting tribe? No, I just chose it. Aren’t you glad you bought this book?
(1) The praenomen is the ‘personal’ name, though clearly not used like ‘Darren’, since every male in a family could have the same one.Vespasian, his father and grandfather, his brother, his two sons and his nephews were all called Titus. A nightmare at the breakfast table, this would be unbearable in a novel.
There were only twelve common praenomina: Aulus (abbreviated to A); Appius (Ap); Gaius (C); Gnaeus (Cn); Decimus (D); Lucius (L); Marcus (M); Publius (P); Quintus (Q); Servius (Ser); Titus (T); and Tiberius (Ti). I chose Marcus specifically because it is modern English too.
(2) The nomen, a family name. I chose Didius because my dictionary said it was plebeian. A later emperor had it, but that’s coincidence.
(3) The cognomen. Textbook writers call this a nickname, like ‘Baldy’. Really? How many of us, when naming a baby, can guess its character or appearance? Incidentally, Brutus, ‘the noblest Roman of them all’, was in strict translation ‘Heavy’ – Marcus Junius Fatso? – or even ‘Stupid’. Et tu, Dumbo! gives an intriguing gloss, infrequently noted by scholars. Mark Antony never had a cognomen; who can blame him?
A cognomen was often geographical: Vespasian’s brother Sabinus (‘the Sabine’); Rutilius Gallicus who came from near Gaul; Silius Italicus. Or there were family reasons. Vespasian was named after his mother, Vespasia Polla; he named his second son Domitianus, after his wife, Flavia Domitilla.
Why Falco? I wanted a Latin word for a tool, as in Sam Spade or Mike Hammer. So, I lay in bed for several nights diligently reading the entire Smith’s Smaller Latin Dictionary. Most promising was falx, a sickle. It failed to roll off the page, but turned into Falco – which could allude to The Maltese Falcon. It was important that my three chosen names, Marcus Didius Falco, went together well when spoken aloud (a lesson to all parents). I only learned later that Flaco is a natural typing mistake.
Women had no praenomen. We can only speculate on why they needed no ‘intimate’ name. Textbook dogmatists insist women were always named after their fathers. Oh but look, trusting textbook writers! Vespasian’s daughter was called Flavia Domitilla after Mum, and his granddaughter likewise.
Helena should perhaps be Camilla. Camilla is just so English toff!
Some experts maintain women took their husbands’ names in the genitive case. I have seen this only occasionally. On tombstone after tombstone, women have their own names – even when a widower is paying for the inscription.
Perhaps she really is; perhaps this is why Marcus can never find her birth certificate at the Atrium of Liberty Perhaps as a child she decided she didn’t like her name and decreed her relations must call her something else!
Other naming points
We know one affectionate diminutive: Cicero sometimes called his daughter Tullia, Tulliola. So watch out for Juliola, Favoniola, Albiola (they sound like cooking oils, full of saturated fats …)
Slaves conventionally had a Greek name: Caenis, Narcissus. On manumission, they adopted their patron’s first name: Antonia Caenis, Tiberius Claudius Anacrites. In the provinces, those granted citizenship took the Emperor’s name: Flavia Albia.
Adoptees would add a set of names to gratify their new relatives, as in Quintus Julius Cordinus Gaius Rutilius Gallicus.
For great deeds, an agnomen might be earned: Scipio was called Africanus for defeating the Carthaginians. C. Julius Caesar Octavianus (NB: he had first been adopted by Julius Caesar), on becoming emperor allowed himself to be called Augustus; subsequent emperors were all Imperator Caesar Augustus.
Emperors’ official titles show how flexible the system was: Augustus used his flashy agnomen. Vespasian used his cognomen, but Titus always distinguished himself from Dad by using the ‘intimate’ praenomen. Gaius had set this precedent – though Gaius is better known to us as ‘Caligula’, a nickname he acquired as a child (‘Little Boots’).
I don’t believe we know how the Romans talked to each other. They were a volatile Mediterranean people; did they jab a finger to get noticed? Snatch at someone’s tunic sleeve? Grip a wrist? Gesture rarely shows up in literary sources.
Degrees of formality were important though: Towards Helvidius Crispus who was the only man to greet him by the private name of ‘Vespasian’, he showed no anger until he felt himself virtually reduced to the ranks by Priscus’ insufferable rudeness. Thereupon Vespasian banished him and presently gave orders for his execution. [SUETONIUS]
I decide by ‘feel’. Russia gives some clues. On a TV programme about the man we called ‘President Yeltsin’, I noticed that journalists and fellow politicians referred to him as ‘Boris Nikolayevich’. (That included the rival politician, subsequently removed from office, who was calling him an inept drunk …)
My Roman system works like this: a man’s full three names or a woman’s two are most formal. Marcus Didius Falco would be on a writ; he is Marcus Didius when his family mention him to others, Marcus when they are badgering him directly; polite outsiders say Didius Falco. Falco is for strangers, enemies or when he is in trouble with his wife.
I don’t think he knows about ‘Mickey Spartacus’.
Religion
Religion was a very visible aspect of Roman life, with temples to gods of all types dominating Rome. Festivals, mainly religious, filled the calendar; they involved street processions and, like Bank Holidays now, they affected civic life. There could be ten named festivals a month, some celebrations taking place over several days or as long as a fortnight. Many went back to the mists of time and it is no longer certain exactly what deity or concept was being commemorated. Falco comments on festivals with resignation; in a plot they are a useful way to give a scene focus or just to cause him hassle.
There were
numerous permitted religions. The Olympian pantheon was ‘official’, with the Roman versions of the old Greek gods and goddesses: first, Jupiter ‘Best and Greatest’, with Juno and Minerva; then Venus, Mars, Neptune, Vulcan, Ceres, Mercury, Apollo, Diana and Vesta. There are also: Fortune; the implacable Fates who spin man’s thread of life; the Three Graces; the nine inspiring Muses; and of course Nemesis, the even-handed goddess who cancels out undeserved good fortune. The demigod Hercules was very popular. The Bona Dea had secret rites attended by matrons (e.g. Julia Justa). Quirinus was the deified Romulus. Other cults were tolerated in Rome, chiefly the Eastern Cybele and Egyptian Isis. Mithras, the soldiers’ god, was perhaps not widely popular at this period; archaeologists have found fabulous mithraea (e.g. London and Ostia), but of later date. However, Falco thinks that Festus experimented.
Deified emperors gained cults, even Vespasian, who had mocked the idea. Gaius Baebius yearns to be an affiliate. To deny the Emperor’s divinity was blasphemy, as the early Christians found. However, they were not thrown to the lions under the Flavians and the contemporary attitude is shown by a famous instruction from Trajan to Pliny: These people must not be hunted out; if they are brought before you and the charge against them is proved, they must be punished, but in the case of anyone who denies that he is a Christian, and makes it clear that he is not by offering prayers to our gods, he is to be pardoned as a result of his repentance however suspect his past conduct may be.
Festus had tried the whole Mithraic ritual of lying in a trench in the dark and having the blood of a sacrificial bull rain down on him. I doubt if he ever progressed beyond the first level …[STH]
The old Roman state religion involved priestly ‘colleges’, such as the Arval Brethren; although membership might boost an aristocrat’s career, Falco says: The fanciful rites of the ancient cults, where only the favoured may communicate with the gods, are about power in the state. [OVTM] The most important priest, the Flamen Dialis, was present at state occasions; you can pick him out in procession on the Ara Pacis, thanks to his strange pointed hat. Peculiarly Roman were the Vestal Virgins, who tended the fire that must never go out on the sacred hearth which represented the life, welfare and unity of the state. Their role as guardians of wills, mainly for the aristocracy, comes up several times.
Falco is a man with a conscience though he despises superstition. He does not pray; in a typical crisis he doesn’t have time. He rules his own life but does not interfere in other people’s beliefs.
He wore a shaggy double-sided cloak and on his head a birchwood prong set in a wisp of wool; this contraption was held on by a round hat with ear-flaps, tied under his chin with two strings, rather like an item my baby daughter used to pull off and throw on the floor. [OVTM]
‘Do you believe in the gods?’
‘Enough to have cursed them many times … I believe in human endeavour. I believe that most mysteries have a logical explanation; all you have to do is find it.’ [SDD]
At a black moment in Nemesis, he merely says, I don’t annoy the gods; I don’t encourage them either.
Medicine, Dentistry, Contraception
I was unwell. You hurried round, surrounded
By ninety students, Doctor. Ninety chill,
North-wind-chapped hands then pawed and probed and pounded.
I was unwell; now I’m extremely ill.
MARTIAL
Falco has a similar brush with a doctor and his students, when he nearly suffers a leg amputation in an army hospital in The Silver Pigs.
There are doctors who would agree anything. Plenty of dead patients could testify to that.
[TFL]
The best doctoring was given to gladiators (the expensive, trained kind); Galen worked with them. Ancient medicine traditionally derived from the teachings of Aesculapius and of Hippocrates, whose compassionate oath doctors still swear. Both Falco’s parents have operations we know existed in Roman times (for cataracts and piles), Veleda wants trepanation and Scaeva has his tonsils removed – with the risk of haemorrhage that still applies today. Consultancy was profitable in ancient Rome; in Saturnalia I have fun discussing rival disciplines and techniques. There are fads among the rich. Women who have difficulty conceiving attend a specialist clinic … It all sounds familiar.
Insomnia causes more deaths among Roman invalids
Than any other factor (the most common complaints, of course,
Are heartburn and ulcers, brought on by over-eating).
JUVENAL
As a crime-writer I have learned a fair bit about botanical poisons; hellebore, hemlock, corn cockle – don’t try these at home. For Alexandria I described an autopsy, though it would be illegal in Roman society.
Dentistry
Dentistry was surprisingly sophisticated. The Etruscans made successful bridgework (for the rich, as the wires were gold) and long before titanium, a man in Gaul survived having an iron post fixed into his jaw. Great-Uncle Scaro’s home-made false teeth have a basis in archaeology (bone, dogs’ teeth or metal were used) – though Scaro’s choking to death on the fourth prototype is my invention.
Unfortunately I have lost the newspaper article that inspired the fake dentist in A Body in the Bath House; it was about two men in a North African country who were arrested after carrying on an unauthorised dental practice, where they used such tools as tyre irons …
Contraception
Contraception was legal, though abortion was not (it deprived the father of his rights). We know of spermicides and other contraceptive methods, though evidence of use is hard to obtain. Falco gives Larius a lesson: There are ways to avoid it: holding back manfully in moments of passion, or eating garlic to put the women off. Some people swear by a sponge soaked in vinegar. Festus told me once, if you know where to go and are prepared to afford it, you can buy scabbards sewn from fine calfskin to guard delicate parts of your anatomy from disease; he swore he had one though he never showed me. According to him, it helped prevent the arrival of curly-haired little accidents. [SB]
On that hot August night in Palmyra when Julia Junilla is conceived, I wanted to show that the main reason contraception fails is that people omit to use it.
The Armed Forces
The army
In Falco’s time there was a professional standing army of more than twenty legions, with the highest concentration in the most restless frontier provinces. Briefly, each legion had between five and six thousand men, in six cohorts, each divided into ten centuries (confusingly, only about eighty men). The training was superb, as was equipment and nourishment, though there must have been high degrees of boredom except on campaigns.
The army provided opportunity for the poor, citizenship for foreigners, and career postings for the aristocracy. My knowledge of how armies work is drawn from what I heard in my childhood after the Second World War and my work in the civil service. Falco encounters a rather high proportion of dodgy military characters but this is to suit plots.
Ballista, or military crossbow
It goes without saying the legions were a fine fighting force, but their role in peacetime was significant, as Falco muses in Alexandria: Who really ran Egypt for Rome were the centurions. Men who acquired geographical knowledge, legal and administrative skills, then used them. They would resolve disputes and root out corruption in the nomes, where appointed locals supervised local government and taxation, but Rome was in overall charge … Based on archaeological evidence, Falco lists the kind of situation a centurion might tackle: Embezzled land, sheep stealing, house burglary or threats against a local tax gatherer (especially if the taxman’s ass was stolen or he himself had gone missing. [AL]
The navy
The Romans were not a seafaring nation, unlike the Greeks. Naval protection was essential, however. Italy itself, being a difficult long narrow shape, had two fleets, one at Ravenna, for which Falco’s Uncle Fulvius has worked in some murky capacity, the other at Misenum. Pliny the Elder was in charge of the Misenum fleet when Vesuvius blew
its top. We glimpse that fleet, behaving ashore as navies ‘showing the flag’ tend to do. Their capacity was enormous and their expertise at steering a course home afterwards while singing jolly songs in fabulously obscene versions made sober men blench. [SB] Things haven’t improved much when a hard-drinking officer called Canidius features in Scandal Takes a Holiday.
Headquarters staff were outstationed in Rome: the Misenum Fleet’s in the Praetorian Camp and the Ravenna Fleet’s in the Transtiberina.
The air force
No, Falco really is not Biggles.
When levered off its carriage, the water organ stood over twelve feet high. The upper portion looked like a gigantic set of syrinx pipes, made partly of bronze, partly of reed. The lower part was formed from an ornamental chest to which bellows were attached. One of Thalia’s men was pouring water carefully into a chamber. Another was attaching a footboard, a huge lever, and a keyboard. [LAP]
Music
Falco seems ambivalent about music, especially if it has ‘ethnic’ overtones. Scenes, such as Oplontis on Silvana’s birthday, with slightly worn country dancers, evolve directly from occasions I have attended during coach tours or on holiday in Croatia with my family; Max and I had one of those unplayable flutes … Folk dancers trying to earn a crust from tourists just seem good value as satire. If you are a folk dancer, I apologise (everyone else knows what I mean). Another lot do their stuff at Anacrites’ dinner party in Nemesis; I’m afraid in that book there is also a singer who moans the Roman equivalent of lieder or The Dream of Gerontius or what they play on Radio 3 in mid-afternoon when you are stuck in bed with flu …
Falco either can or can’t play the cithara well enough to teach it. Decide for yourselves.