“Horace: Poet on a Volcano” by Peter Stothard

My introduction to the Roman poet Horace happened in Latin II class in high school. As a foreign language elective, Latin was down to two classes – introductory Latin I and Latin II. As I recall, the class did a group translation in class, which likely meant the Latin teacher did most of the heavy lifting. And then in college, in a class on Western civilization, we read a few of his odes.  

Other than that, I’ll confess to a general ignorance of the poet’s body of work.

 

Quintus Horatius Flaccus (65-8 B.C.), better known to us as Horace, lived through one of the most tumultuous periods of Western history. The son of an ex-slave, he came of age during the rapid decline of the Roman Republic, the assassination of Julius Caesar, the civil wars that followed as competing factions battled (literally) for power, and the final triumph by Octavian, soon called Augustus Caesar. 

 

When death from warfare, suicide, forced suicide, and murder was all too common, Horace was able to thread his way through the politics of power in Roman society. And he did something that few of peers accomplished – he died in his bed from natural causes. That by itself was an achievement, given the deadly nature of Roman politics, especially in the upper tier of society.

 

British journalist and author Peter Stothard tells Horace’s story in Horace: Poet on a Volcano. But he does do in an intriguing way – he uses Horace’s famed odes as the biographical reference. 

Some Tuesday Readings

 

A Video Reading of the Poem ‘The Loons of Colby Lake’ – Michael Pietrack at Society of Classical Poets.

 

Found in Translation: Gently May It Sing – L.L. Barkat at Twetspeak Poetry.

 

“Leda and the Swan,” poem by William Butler Yeats – Joseph Bottum at Poems Ancient and Modern.

In a cell, daily

After Ephesians 1:15-23

What is it to sit in a cell,

day after day, waiting

for some movement,

some progress, some

anything on your case,

but hearing only 

the silence of the night,

the scurrying of the rats,

the groaning and nearby

whimpering, punctuated

only by occasional 

shouts of guards and

slamming of doors?

It is endless waiting,

an existence of gray, 

until news is heard,

news from a thousand

miles away, news that

serves to remind that

a work once done

bears fruit and returns

as many more works

still being done, that

a visit years ago has

left growth and

flourishing behind it,

tangible expressions

of faith and love,

and you’re sitting

in that cell, desolation

crowding your soul,

and you hear of that

good thing, that life,

and you know that

your life is not in vain,

that this waiting, too, 

has its purpose and is

itself another good work.

Photograph by Michael Jasmund via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Logical progression

After Ephesians 1:15-22

He was nothing if not

logical, speaking and

arguing with that razor

sharp mind of his, and

the logic continues,

even though it’s not

an argument or

discussion, but a report,

some welcome news,

so he gives thanks,

he prays for them,

he prays very generally

and very specifically,

for them to receive

a spirit of wisdom 

and revelation, so that

hearts are enlightened,

hearts know the hope,

the hope that is calling,

the riches of inheritance,

the power extended,

the power of a death and

resurrection extending

above all other power

and authority for all time,

and all that in one breathless

this-follows-that sentence.

Photograph by Jeff Frenette via Unsplash. Used with permission.

The plan

After Ephesians 1:1-14

It was a plan,

it is a plan

for the fullness

of time. Envisioned

and created before

time, it had an aim,

a purpose, a means

and an end: unity,

oneness, union

of all things,

things in heaven,

things on earth.

It’s all rather

stunning, when

you consider it:

a plan for all time,

created before time

began, a plan 

to unify all things.

Photograph by Eleventh Wave via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Inheritance

After Ephesians 1:1-14

The will and testament

is written and read,

the inheritance obtained,

executed exactly as

he planned.

The first to hope

become the praise.

The ones who hear

and believe the word

are sealed for eternity.

And an eternal warranty

is given, a guarantee

of permanence, a promise

of forever.

Photograph by Alvaro Serrano via Unsplash. Used with permission.

From a cell

After Ephesians 1:1-14

From a cell he writes

his letter to the faithful

in the city of Artemis,

twelve hundred miles 

of separation but still

together as one. He 

writes of being chosen

together, predestined

together, sharing 

an adoption,

a redemption, sharing

forgiveness. Distance

is of no consequence

because of what they 

share in common,

their sharing surpassing

the wealth of their cities,

the culture of their societies,

the strength of their empire.

And he calls them saints.

And he calls them faithful.

Photograph by Michael Jasmund via Unsplash. Used with permission.

At the center

After Romans 1:1-17

A group, likely small,

but noticeable, because

of how they behaved,

sitting at the center

of the world, the center

of empire, ruling

with iron and fist and

law created on the banks

of the Tiber, a group

whose faith is proclaimed. 

Small, yes, but visible,

attracting interest and

curiosity, perhaps suspicion,

and they are prayed for,

always.

Photograph by Verne Ho via Unsplash. Used with permission.

“Pax Romana” by Adrian Goldsworthy

The Pax Romana, or “Roman Peace,” was the period in Roman history from approximately 14 B.C., when Caesar Augustus consolidated power and became the first emperor, to 180 A.D, with the accession of Commodus, the son of Marcus Aurelius. It’s the period traditionally viewed as almost two centuries of peace, highlighted by expansion of empire, the building of the great roads, Roman law extended to a considerable portion of the known world, and the expansion of Christianity.

But was it really two centuries of peace?

Academic historians in Europe and North America have been actively rewriting all kinds of history (and some would say substituting political beliefs for history). Ancient historian Adrian Goldsworthy is no revisionist historian; instead, he is a very thorough and informed historian who writes engagingly. In Pax Romana: War, Peace, and Conquest in the Roman World, Goldsworthy has produced a comprehensive history of the period and provided a fascinating look at how the Roman Empire grew and consolidated, how it was ruled, and what daily life was like.

To understand the Pax Romana, Goldsworthy starts at the right beginning – the era of the Roman Republic. The republic provides the context for what came after. So Goldsworthy looks at the rise of the republic, how it waged war, how it made alliances, how its merchants could be found alongside its soldiers (or arrive shortly after), and how the Senate administered the republic’s growing territories.

From there he looks at the Pax Romana, including the role of the emperors, how the Romans dealt with rebellion and banditry, how the imperial governors administered the provinces, the Roman army, and what life was like under Roman rule. What emerges is a picture very different from what we understand from movies and popular culture.

Of special note is Goldsworthy’s reliance on original records. He draws heavily from Julius Caesar, Cicero, Trajan, Pliny, still existing records, Tacitus, and other writers of the time. He lets them speak in their own words, communicating how they understood the events and themes of the times they lived in.

Adrian Goldsworthy

Goldsworthy is a graduate of St. John’s College, Oxford. He was a junior research fellow at Cardiff University, and taught at both King’s College, London, and the London extension program of the University of Notre Dame. He eventually gave up teaching to write full-time.

He’s the author of Caesar: Life of a Colossus (2006); How Rome Fell: Death of a Superpower (2009); Antony and Cleopatra (2010); The Fall of Carthage: The Punic Wars 265-146 BC (2012); Caesar’s Civil War 49-44 BC (2013); Augustus: First Emperor of Rome (2014); and In the Name of Rome: The Men Who Won the Roman Empire (2016). He’s also written six novels about the British soldiers who fight in the Napoleonic Wars. He lives in South Wales.

Pax Romana is an excellent history, full of insight, nuances, and deep understanding of the Romans and how they ruled the ancient world.

Top photograph: Status of Augustus Caesar.

A simplicity

After Acts 28:11-31

Beatings, yes, threats

of death, persecutions,

stoning, imprisonments,

ridicule, shipwreck,

these I endured with

his grace and provision.

But when I saw them

at the Forum of Appius, by

the Three Taverns, when

I saw these come from Rome,

arms opened, my heart

overflowed, my tears

overwhelmed my eyes, and

I thanked him for this,

a simplicity of courage,

a simplicity of encouragement.

Photograph: Forum of Appius today, Via Appia, near Rome.

What I do

After Acts 28

To walk in this city, even

between guards, soldiers

escorting their prisoner,

even so to walk here is

the feel the throb of empire,

a bustle of commerce,

a convulsion, an excitement,

orators in the streets, shouts,

and noise, constant noise

abating only at late night, yet

this place pulsates,

the sheer excitement of what

men call the center

of the world, the center

of the universe.

Yet I see a weed between

paving stones, a weed flowering

as its grows. I do what I know

to do, from the beginning:

to speak, perhaps to preach,

even with my soldier guards

on each side.

Illustration: Paul in Rome by Christoph Weigel (German engraver, 1654-1725).

Sitting in the caves

We sit huddled

the city’s caves offering

a respite

a single candle burns

dim light

our faces and thoughts

shadowed

cries echo above us

we sit, hiding,

not stirring

an occasional glance

offered the passageway

an occasional glance, uneasy

offered the graves

running feet above

what follows:

boots thudding above

cries anguished

then silence

we sit in caves

a spared remnant

Illustration: Crypt of Saint Caecilla in the catacomb of Callistus in Rome. Image adapted from Walter Lowrie, Monuments of the Early Church (New York:The Macmillan Company, 1901).