Nephele

What a fantastic site! But... Those aren't really models, are they? They look like paintings, or computer graphics, to me. Northern Neil does the real stuff. But I luuuurve this site! Thanks for the link! -- Nephele

And directly precedes the Bacchanalia. Not that you should need the excuse to party hard for your natal day celebration. Interesting how the Bacchanalia coincides with St. Patrick's Day -- another day given over to drinking and revelry. -- Nephele Is this the same festival at which P Clodius was discovered dressed as a woman at the the house of Julius Caesar which resulted in Caesar divorcing his wife with the saying " Caesar's wife should be above suspicion" or words to that effect ? No, I think it was a party for Bona Dea (a far more decorous deity) that Clodius crashed. -- Nephele

And directly precedes the Bacchanalia. Not that you should need the excuse to party hard for your natal day celebration. Interesting how the Bacchanalia coincides with St. Patrick's Day -- another day given over to drinking and revelry. -- Nephele

How... charming. I can't wait to see the Homes and Gardens issue featuring Idi Amin's state-of-the-art kitchen. ("Skylights grace a cathedral ceiling in this bright workplace and heart of the home, where guests are welcomed by the tantalizing aroma of leg of man roasting in the oven.") What a bizarre find, Edgewaters. I'll bet that 1938 issue of H&G goes for big money on eBay. -- Nephele

Nephele leads a troupe of laughing, tipsy, scantily veiled Bacchantes in a dance before Cato's birthday throne. Cato seems unmoved -- is there nothing that will please him? Ah! Nephele claps her hands, and one of the Bacchantes runs off and returns with an effigy of Caesar, which is set aflame. The Bacchantes raise their wine goblets high as they cheer the leaping flames. The gesture may not bring back the Republic, but it does make such a pretty fire for Bacchantes to dance around. Birthday hails to you, MPC! -- Nephele

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Thanks for an intriguing review, Ursus! I'll have to check out this book. "If at the end of the day you have garnered a rueful chuckle at comparing your bosses to the swaggering warlords of Rome, you will have availed yourself of all the book can actually promise." Being a boss lady, myself, I wonder whether I'll be somewhat embarrassed when I read this? Does the book make a note of the Jekyll-and-Hyde managerial type? Ruthless warlord while on the job -- easy-going sweetheart when not? -- Nephele

Almost as much as what these ancient writings reveal, what fascinates me is how they resurface after having been "missing" for numbers of years.

Congratulations on a title that looks like it's going to stick! Through the mysterious power of the Oracle of the Anagram, I shall attempt to discover the hidden meaning behind "Pater Arcanae"... Ah! My crystal ball is clearing... I see the letters anagramatically shifting, shifting... Into... "Peace 'n' Ararat" = "Pater Arcanae" The message is clear! Mount Ararat is where Noah's Ark peacefully settled after having been tossed about in the Great Flood for 40 days and 40 nights. This can only mean that Gaius Octavius has been divinely chosen to rescue the emoticons of the Internet, collecting them two by two safely into the Ark of his home computer database, to save them from whatever disaster might ensue, and thus repopulate the Internet with emoticons once more. All hail the chosen Pater Arcanae! :notworthy: -- Nephele

No self-respecting colleen would be caught at the party wearing the same outfit that another colleen is wearing! They'll look more like this... Oh, and Octavia from HBO's Rome has RSVP'ed and will be coming to the party. I've had to Gaelicize her, though... Fiona MacIvor Octavia Minor -t +f -- Annella McPhee (aka Nephele)

When Octavian offered Livia the roast quail and she daintily bit off its HEAD, I suspected that was a hint of the Livia to come. Historical faux pas aside, I nevertheless am still finding this series

Birthday hails to you, noble Primus P.! *Nephele claps her hands and muscians play while a troupe of dancing girls and acrobats gyrate and somersault into the marbled halls of Primus Pilus. Servants follow with huge platters of roast peacock and suckling pig. Primus Pilus is seated on a mound of cushions, crowned with sweet-scented laurels, while comely attendants manicure his nails and pop grapes into his mouth. Gifts are presented -- rare scrolls rescued from the great Library of Alexandria before it burned.* May you have a very cool day! -- Nephele

Yay, another colleen for the party! *Nephele places a shamrock wreath on DoL's head.* DoL, you shall be known as... Shena O'Hara hamahnoras -m +e Shena (pronounced shee-na), Anglicization of S

Pastrami, silly. I don't smoke, either. I buy mine at the deli. -- Nephele

Gaius Octavius and Gaius Paulinus Maximus, I think we should invite your ladies to the party. We could always use a few extra colleens... G.O.'s lady: Jesmaine Kilgour mgalujimoerisen -m +k GPM's lady: "Flashy Arleena" ehyrrnslaaafe -r +l -- Annella McPhee (aka Nephele)

That's right, but these aren't the same pumpkins that we know in the New World, just as the "corn" that is often referred to isn't the "maize" of the New World. Pliny used the word pepo, and I believe it is being translated here as "pumpkin" (my Cassell's Latin dictionary also translates it thus), even though this vegetable or fruit was more likely a variety of squash or a large melon. EDIT: I should add that A Day in Old Rome was first published in 1925. Perhaps if William Stearns Davis, Professor of Ancient History at the University of Minnesota, had written the book today (if he were still alive), he might have chosen another word for pumpkin in his book. Nevertheless, I highly recommend this book for a brilliant peek into the everyday world of the Romans, circa 134 C.E. -- Nephele Yes, it's true, pumpkins are a common mistake among writers and translators dealing with ancient Rome. It's interesting to see that even Cassell's dictionary makes this mistake -- but very often you can't trust dictionaries on the identification of foods. People who write dictionaries just aren't that interested in food ... You meet kidney beans in translations of Roman texts too. These also are transatlantic imports, only available in Europe some while after Columbus. And it's true that when people in Britain say 'corn' we usually mean wheat, not maize. (Hence most British people probably believe that corn flakes are made with wheat ...) Latin 'pepo' is a melon. Melons and watermelons were available in the ancient Mediterranean, having been transplanted from further south in prehistoric times. Thanks, Andrew Dalby, for the elucidation on the pepo/pumpkin question! Now if you could just direct me to my sought-after recipe for Roman pheasant before next weekend, I'll be set! -- Nephele

Actually, Posca wasn't quite an individual of exemplary morals in the first season, either, serving as Caesar's bag man for the hits on prominent Roman citizens. Remember how Caesar denied knowing anything about these gruesome events happening in his city's streets, and then at the end of the episode, "The Spoils", we see Posca delivering Caesar's payment to Erastes Fullmen, with the admonition, "If we employ you again, best not use veterans." (Seeing as how Pullo had too much of a conscience to have a taste for this work.) It was actually Atia's suggestion to Octavian and Antony to kill Jocasta's father. But way back in the first season episode "Stealing from Saturn", it was Posca who suggested to Caesar that he kill off rich men for their wealth. And it was also Posca who shrewdly advised Caesar on what sort of bribes various officials would require. Perhaps the best thing that could be said for Posca in the first season was that he appeared to be genuinely loyal to Caesar, whereas he's now masterless and apparently loyal to no man. Plus, Posca's cynical approach to problem-solving makes him a witty and entertaining character, as always. So, with this most recent episode -- "A Necessary Fiction" -- doesn't Posca appear to be the doting, indulgent husband? I swear, Jocasta looked like a magnet for ravens, with all those shiny trinkets hanging from her. And Posca was all: "Whatever you want, dear," when Jocasta spied a new shop. Now, I'm sure Posca's generous nature towards Jocasta can't be based on feelings of guilt over what happened to her family. I think Jocasta simply must be keeping Posca very happy. Oh, and do you suppose Posca's legal name, now that he's Caesar's freedman, is: Gaius Julius Posca? Seeing as how it was customary that freed slaves would take the praenomen and nomen of their former masters, and tack on their original name (often Latinized) as their cognomen? -- Nephele

I'm especially pleased with your name, Sligo Katie. I think that was one of my best efforts. I haven't a speck of Irish ancestry in me, so y'all can make up for me at the party. Party on! We need some more guests! Who else wants to be Gaelicized? -- Annella McPhee (aka Nephele)

Party on, everyone! Decimus Caesar, shorter scrambles work best for this one. Can you give me a scramble without your middle name included? Thanks! EDIT: DecimusCaesar, I found your original scramble (first & middle name) from the Hidden Roman Name topic. So, here you go! Your Gaelic name is... Paddy O'Dwain fdadydnawio -f +p -- Annella McPhee (aka Nephele)

That's right, but these aren't the same pumpkins that we know in the New World, just as the "corn" that is often referred to isn't the "maize" of the New World. Pliny used the word pepo, and I believe it is being translated here as "pumpkin" (my Cassell's Latin dictionary also translates it thus), even though this vegetable or fruit was more likely a variety of squash or a large melon. EDIT: I should add that A Day in Old Rome was first published in 1925. Perhaps if William Stearns Davis, Professor of Ancient History at the University of Minnesota, had written the book today (if he were still alive), he might have chosen another word for pumpkin in his book. Nevertheless, I highly recommend this book for a brilliant peek into the everyday world of the Romans, circa 134 C.E. -- Nephele

Outstanding article. Thanks for this one, Primus P.! -- Nephele

In his Naturalis Historia, Pliny the Elder wrote that if a woman with child passed over a viper, she was sure to miscarry. Also, if she ate a raven's egg or passed over it, she would miscarry. Pliny also believed that the stick that was used to rescue a frog from the mouth of a snake would help in facilitating delivery in childbirth. -- Nephele

Delving into my favorite book on Roman daily life (circa 134 C.E.) -- A Day in Old Rome by Professor William Stearns Davis -- I found that not only was bread the Roman "staff of life", but one's social class often dictated the sort of bread one got: "There is a cheap bread of coarse grain (panis sordidus) for the humblest; a second quality (panis secundus) for better class purchasers, and also the very white and sweet siligineus. You ask for 'Picenian bread' if you want fine biscuit, and for libae if you desire smaller rolls." Cabbage was a popular veggie -- Cato the Elder declared it to be "the finest vegetable in the world." Other side dishes to be found on the average Roman dinner table included turnips (the favorite of Manius Curius, conqueror of the Samnites), artichokes, asparagus (who can forget Augustus of I, Claudius irritating the heck out of Livia with his crude expression: "As quick as boiled asparagus"?), beans, beets, cucumbers, lentils, melons, onions, peas, and pumpkins. Stearns wrote: "A visitor to Rome should promptly accustom himself to garlic; and there is a certain fashionable rusticity about garlic eaters, as if they were trying to bring back the flavor and odor of 'the good old times.'" When it came to meat, the poor would buy goat's flesh. "Many citizens nevertheless never taste beef or mutton except when it is distributed in the form of a sacrifice at some of the great public festivals." Pork was popular (mostly for the better off classes), and poultry on the whole was in greater demand than red meat. Other meat staples for the lower-income Roman households included hare, rabbit, and venison -- all of which "are comparatively cheap, and everybody with a price can buy wild boar at the better purveyors' shops." Fish was in great demand, but the poor people had to content themselves with "salt fish or pickled fish, from little sardines to slices of the big cybium, as forming frequently the only break in an otherwise vegetarian diet. They also make up salt fish with various vegetables and cheese into a kind of fishballs." Olive oil and wine had universal use. For the common Roman, beverages other than wine (although even the commoners enjoyed their wine) included beverages made from wheat and barley, and also from fermented quince juice. And then there was posca (also the name of a favorite character from HBO's Rome): "vinegar mixed with water, was the common drink of the lower orders among the Romans, as of soldiers when on service." (ref. Smith's). I'll leave the question of yogurt to the Roman foodie experts of this board, as my beloved little book makes no mention of this. But there are frequent references to cheese being in widespread use. As stated above, for the fishballs that Joe Average Roman ate, as well as for cold suppers. One mention of eggs includes a reference to these being served during jentaculum (breakfast) with "a cup of heartening mulsum" should the master of the house be "expecting to go on a journey or to put in a hard day debating in the Senate." So I presume that eggs were used to bulk up the general breakfast, rather than be the main dish of the breakfast. Looking forward to hearing from our foodie experts on board! -- Nephele

*Annella McPhee passes a tankard of Guinness to Barry Megee* I'm sure you will, G.O. You need an Irish name, as well. A blanagram of your alter ego, Edmund Blackadder, lands you with the name of... "Drunken Dab" McDade Edmund Blackadder -b +n GPM, birthday hails to your dad-in-law! You're right, you can't get more Irish than "Paddy Evans"! Now to Gaelicize you... "Blarney Gaiven" NIEAGRLVFYANE -f +b -- Annella McPhee (aka Nephele)

The 17th is this Saturday, but why wait? I say, start the partying early! :drunk: Who wants to hand out the virtual beer? Who'll be in charge of the virtual corned beef and cabbage platters? Any volunteers for serving wenches? (To be a serving wench -- not to hand out serving wenches.) I'll be in charge of name tags (naturally!). Because everyone MUST be a virtual Irishman (or Irishwoman) on the 17th, y'all are going to need blanagrammed Gaelic names. I'll hand out a couple right now... The Augusta shall be known as "Sligo Katie" (ligakoesst -s +i) Ursus shall be known as Barry Megee (eeeryajmrb -j +g) Anyone else want to join the party? If you scramble your name for me, I'll blanagram you into an Irish hellraiser. -- Annella McPhee (a.k.a. Nephele)