Nephele

Charmain, you are a freedwoman of Rome. You previously belonged to a kindly master named Crementius, who acquired you as a child. He named you "Trophima" ("which means "educated; nourished," but through association with a famous Trophimus has come to signify: "foster-child") because he was so charmed by you that he decided to adopt you and make you his heir. As a freedwoman, you took the feminine form of the name of your former master and foster father, adding your given name as your cognomen. Your full Roman name is: Crementia Trophima = crpanmiieotaeghtr -g +m Welcome to UNRV! -- Nephele

CiceroD, thanks for that wine-making book recommendation (and thanks, Asclepiades, for the fixed link). But since (as you pointed out) my poor Concord grapes won't result in any kind of fine wine (not that I can imagine myself actually making any kind of fine wine), I guess I'll continue to get my wine from the shops. Great illustrations, GPM! Bark stoppers and resin, then? Has anyone here mentioned yet (in case I missed it) whether any actual wine residue has been found in any of these amphorae, and whether that might have served as an aid in determining what ancient Roman wine might have tasted like? I did see Pertinax's response in this topic, about having asked Andrew Dalby, and AD saying that "a sweetish cooking grade Madeira" would be an approximation. And here's a UNRV site listing (compiled by Primus Pilus) of Types of Ancient Wines, which gives an indication of the taste of some of them. -- Nephele

A great start on blogging! Have fun! -- Nephele

Davis mentions the ancient Romans having had cider, as well. My back garden is slowly being taken over by the Concord grape vines I've got growing there. Plus, my neighbor has Concord grapes, too, and they've grown over the wall that divides our two properties and are intertwining. I've never tried making homemade wine, and the grapes I get aren't particularly tasty. Is that the "foxy" taste, you're talking about? Maybe I'll try making some wine this fall. Can you recommend a good "how to" book? (But I'm not stomping barefoot on any grapes!) -- Nephele

Nephele missed this, until now. MPC has covered this nicely -- before the end of the Republic, Romans were formally addressed by praenomen + gens, and this method of address also continued in the Senate. But perhaps this would have been too lofty for mere soldiers, and since the use of the cognomen was the more ordinary form of address (without any prefixed title equivalent to our "Mr."), that's probably how the soldiers were addressed. Especially since there would have been numerous duplicate names if the soldiers were addressed by praenomen + gens. But, with thousands of different cognomina in use, there would have been less confusion of names. That is, if the centurion in charge could remember all the different names of his soldiers (as previously pointed out by MPC and Caldrail). I think we can safely assume that the centurion would not be addressing his men by their praenomen, as only family members and intimates would use the praenomen. And, much as the centurion might care for his men, I don't imagine he'd care to be thought of as being intimate with any of them. -- Nephele

ZeleaCodreanu, you are known by the name of "Diochares" and you have the distinction of being a freedman of Caesar's. In fact, Cicero mentioned you in one of his letters to his friend Atticus when, in 48 BCE, you returned to Rome from Alexandria on an errand for Caesar. (Caesar remained in Alexandria at the time, finishing up the unpleasant business with Pompey and making Cleopatra's acquaintance. But, of course, as Caesar's trusted freedman, you didn't bring any gossip back to Rome with you.) Your friends have jealously dubbed you with the cognomen of "Adventor," meaning "guest, visitor." This is because, as a freedman, you have gotten busy ingratiating yourself with the rich and powerful. As a result, you are a frequently invited houseguest to all-night banquets in Baiae. Your full Roman name is: Diochares Adventor = TODARIEIECHAVORND -i +s -- Nephele

A bottle of Vina Opimia for me, please! I came across this while referencing Davis' A Day in Old Rome in reply to another topic on this board: Of course, any and all lost books would have priority, when it comes to bringing back valuable items from the past. But, right now, I'm about to sit down to dinner, and I was thinking how lovely it would be to taste a vintage that was highly spoken of by the ancient Romans -- even years after it was no longer available. Heh, with my luck, though, what the ancient Romans prized in flavor might turn out to be something rancid-tasting, to me. Maybe I'll just go with my librarian instincts of gathering up an armload of lost books from the past, after all. -- Nephele

GPM, I think you forgot to mention that entry you offered came from Johnston's Private Life of the Romans. CiceroD, have you ever tried making wine from fruit other than grapes? According to Davis' A Day in Old Rome, the ancient Romans also made beverages from fermented quince juice and mulberries. Davis mentions vintages that were "treasured by the epicures as if worth their weight in gold," and one such vintage was bottled in 121 BCE and called Vina Opimia. "By Hadrian's day the last drops of this precious liquor" were gone, but connoisseurs still talked about it. Now, that's a bottle of wine I'd like to be able to bring back from the past, if I could time-travel. As for how the amphorae -- or glass jars -- were sealed... Davis says that gypsum was used. Although the seals Pertinax mentions I can more easily imagine. -- Nephele

When I saw this topic heading, I got all steamed, thinking: "Who's been sending negative messages to Pertinax??" I thought somebody had PM'ed you, saying they didn't like your avatar, or something else negative like that! Hope you get your mailbox problem sorted out. -- Nephele

I can just picture it: Johnny Depp as Caligula! -- Nephele

Have a cool day! -- Nephele

I haven't seen anything like this anywhere. It makes a great reference resource for librarians! -- Nephele

Correvs, you are a member of the Grania gens, a plebian gens whose members, under the Republic, rose to senatorial rank. (See Smith's). Your cognomen of "Remolus," meaning "little Remus," indicates that your ancestors were compared to Remus, one of the legendary founders of Rome. Your praenomen is "Proculus," abbreviated as "Pr." Your full Roman name is: Pr. Granius Remolus = pylnirgrymeoasrs -yy +uu Welcome to UNRV! -- Nephele

Intriguing article, Guy. I wouldn't have expected a better job from Snopes.com or StraightDope.com, in getting to the root of the story. As Nachman Ben-Yehuda writes: Additionally, Nachman Ben-Yehuda compares the Masada legend to some undeniably genuine Jewish heroes (among other, non-Jewish heroes): "We must remind ourselves at this point that there are plenty of historical examples of real, remarkable and heroic 'fighting to the last.' For example... the Jewish revolt in the Warsaw Ghetto..." -- Nephele

Pick out a nice frame for it tomorrow! Congratulations! -- Nephele

'70s gold. -- Nephele

Even cheaper at DVD Planet. I buy from them all the time, so I can vouch for their good service as well as unbeatable prices. When it comes to DVDs, DVD Planet blows Amazon out of the water. As for the discussion regarding the usual depiction of the Romans as being unrelentingly cruel and without compassion... I just want to mention our Flavia, and a moving piece she wrote in her novel The Slave-girl from Jerusalem. The title character of Flavia's novel happens to be one of a handful of Jewish survivors of the siege of Masada, having been a child at the time of the event. Now grown, she recounts her story of how her mother overheard the men of the city planning in a secret meeting to kill everyone on the eve of the Romans breaking through the walls, rather than allow themselves and their families to be taken prisoner by the Romans. The character quietly tells of how her mother and another woman gathered up some children to hide. As they wait hours in the dark for the Romans to find them, fearing the worst, they finally hear the approaching hobnailed footsteps of their enemies. But, surprisingly, instead of being confronted by hardened soldiers intent on finishing off any Jewish survivors found... "Those two Roman soldiers began to weep and praise the gods and the young one took each one of us in his arms and kissed the top of our heads. Even mother. Even old Anna... He was so happy to see us alive. You see, all the other Jews in Masada were dead." Flavia's novel is of course a work of fiction, and doesn't focus entirely on Masada. But that one, poignant scene of the title character telling her personal story of a small group of Jewish survivors and their unlikely Roman rescuers, that alone makes Flavia's novel something I'd pay good money to see filmed and packaged in DVD. And (unlike the newly released DVD of Masada), I wouldn't insist on a rockbottom, bargain price for Flavia's filmed novel, either. -- Nephele

Moonlapse, I'd forgotten that I had your scramble from before. I dug it up, and now I can hippify you! Your Summer of Love Anniversary name is: Shujath Lunar Comanche = ohnehchcantlaarujsmu "Shujath" is a name from India, meaning "well born". I got the "Lunar" in there for "Moonlapse". And, of course, Native American tribes as surnames is tr

Congratulations! -- Nephele

Glaberus, you proudly bear the nomen gentilicium of "Romanius," never missing an opportunity to draw attention to your family's claims to have been direct descendants of Romulus, Rome's founding father. Your cognomen is "Ralla," which means "scraper; scraping iron." I had previously given that cognomen to another member of this board -- Caldrail -- with the debatable meaning of "tunic of fine fabric," but further research has turned up this different meaning for that cognomen, which I've given to you here. Your praenomen is "Marcus," abbreviated as "M." Your full Roman name is: M. Romanius Ralla = NARNAOSMLARHML -hn +iu -- Nephele

Oh, gawds, I love that movie, Miss Congeniality. Who can forget William Shatner in the role of the sleazy, has-been Master of Ceremonies for the beauty pageant? And then there's Sandra Bullock's wonderful character of Gracie, whose unique contribution to the talent portion of the beauty pageant consisted of dressing up as an Austrian beer-garden wench and playing a tune on water-filled, crystal goblets. Which leads me to ask (if anyone here is willing to play along): If YOU were a beauty pageant contestant, what would YOU be doing on the stage for the talent portion of the pageant? (I know what my "talent" would be: I'd be frantically juggling letters as I call out anagrams of various words.) "World Peace? Um, uhhh... Waldo Creep!" -- Nephele

I don't really try to work out anyone's actual name from their scrambles because 1) Often there can be hundreds of possible names resulting from a scramble, and 2) (I know this is going to sound awful) I don't really find people's actual names as interesting as my own creations, and therefore not worth the effort of trying to figure out. In Nephele World, everyone sports an anagram of his or her actual name -- ideally, a darkly romantic or humorously macabre "goth" name anagram. -- Nephele

Tell your bro' he's very welcome. Also tell him that he's the reincarnation of any one of three ancient Greek writers who bore the name of "Metrophanes" (loosely meaning:

Shall I compare this to that Shakespeare play? This was more quirky (so I estimate). Rough winds may seize the darling Bard's toup

VTC, in Anagram World your younger brother isn't related to you at all, but has a Roman identity which shows that he's a member of the Horatii -- an ancient patrician family whose most notable member was probably that legendary Horatius who bravely held a bridge against an onslaught of attacking enemies. The cognomen of your brother (who isn't your brother in Anagram World) is "Mento," indicating that a physical peculiarity of his ancestors was a long chin. His praenomen is "Publius," abbreviated as "P." His full Roman name is: P. Horatius Mento = atonrhmoewspte -ew +iu -- Nephele