Heard the masses muttering, “Have you thought of the Roman Empire today?”
Seen the countless, often-hilarious memes of men contemplating the gods, gladiators, and glory of ancient Rome? All the while their partners ponder – jealousy – “ll just bet he’s thinking of someone other than me.”
Ancient Rome’s resurgence in popular culture
A book on Roman emperors, The Lives of Twelve Caesars, written by Suetonius some 2,000 years ago has now entered the British best-selling list thanks to a new translation by Tom Holland, the co-host of The Rest Is History podcast.
For the very first time of any work from classical antiquity. We’re now deluged by seemingly endless new series and movies drawing from Greco-Roman history, legend, and mythology.
Since the year 2000, we’ve seen in movie format: Gladiator, Gladiator II, Troy, 300, 300: Rise of an Empire, Immortals, Centurion, Pompeii, Alexander, (a re-made) Ben Hur, The Eagle, Clash of the Titans, Hercules, The Legend of Hercules, The Return; The Last Legion, Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief (etc); while in series format the list is at least as impressive, Rome, Jason and the Argonauts, Romulus and Remus: The First King, Spartacus, Spartacus: Gods of the Arena, Barbarians, Plebs, Kaos (etc). And these are just some of the titles that fall readily to mind.
Let us not forget, too, that it hasn’t been since the 1960s that this mythical-historical fare or (to put it much simpler), Sword & Sandal genre had even been considered as a viable outlet for Hollywood creativity and as a profitable audience-puller. In 2000, Ridley Scott had pitched to him a whole new take on the genre, while the copy of a certain painting sat between the two earnest screenwriting producers drawing his mind’s eye to it again and again.
Why and how? leap almost fully formed from the brow of Zeus, screaming their associated war-cries. Sure, it’s got something to do with the era of often-rabid identity- and even geo-politics we continue to wade through: us versus them; the West versus everyone else; and our heroes are better than your (exotic/alien/weird) heroes.
The sheer, unrivalled prestige of the classical past versus any competing thought-world also plays a part. And it’s certainly a push-back against alternative fantasy worlds like the so-called ‘Marvel CineVerse’ (or MCU), wherein seemingly endless heroes and heroines are generated and regenerated until the law of diminishing returns smack the producers so hard that they cry ‘broke’.
Even Tolkien’s ‘invented mythology’ can’t compete with the original and the best. But is there something a little more profound, or at least nostalgic (a word generated from Greek, of course, meaning ‘homecoming’ and ‘pain’), going on with this distinctly Western and Westernising onslaught?
I think so. As a classicist who has personally turned to both historical-fiction novel and screen writing based upon the sagas of antiquity, I’d like to think I have at least a couple of insights I can share whether they be accurate or not. Or at least my editor thinks I might. I’d put it to readers of this piece, Have you thought of the Byzantine (or, more accurately, Eastern Roman) Empire today? What about that of Alexander and his far-flung successors? Spared a daily thought or a word about classical Athens or Sparta during the Golden Age’? I’d bet someone else’s money that you have.
The Roman Empire goes viral
When Saskia Cort, a Swedish influencer, first posted her query on Instagram (after it was translated into English) – ‘How often do men think about the Roman Empire’? – not only did it go nearly as viral as a pandemic, but the overwhelming response she received was quite stunning. These reactions ranged from ‘several times a month’ to ‘a few times a week’ and onto the winner of ‘every single day’.
In sharp contrast, while a renowned scholar of antiquity like gladiator expert Professor Kathleen Coleman might think about ancient Rome every single day, very few ‘civilian women’ thought about the Eternal City and its former Empire at all. So, there seems little doubt that there is a precipitous divide occurring between men and women with this embedded, thought-intruding obsession. In fact, there’s even been something of an outcry against this apparent sexism and ‘gender-stereotyping’ by Rome-fixated blokes. And whoever claimed that men only think about just one thing?
Hollywood’s love affair with swords and sandals
If we take what we’ve now tentatively established, that the resurgence of interest in all things ‘Sword and Sandal’ appears to be a male-dominated phenomenon, then it may help us to start making sense of other aspects of this pronounced nostalgia. If, as the old 1970’s feminist adage goes – ‘the personal is political’ – then are Western men attempting to redefine their politically-constructed identity at least partially vis-à-vis the icons and exemplars of the classical past, when masculinity was, of course, far less problematised by prevailing trends? This is not to pretend that Western men (in particular) are running around screaming ‘strength and honour’ at maximal volume or posturing as a reborn Hercules or Achilles. But could be claimed that within the contemporary minefield of gender identity politics – where men have, in recent years, experienced everything from the metrosexual to the ‘warriors of woke’ – that many are craving a more elementary, less complex sense of self. Or, at least, readily consumable screen (and literary) representations of such heroic men.
Nostalgia or identity crisis?
Now, I am more than aware that I’m straying into potentially dangerous, simplifying territory, but there is a countervailing trend which seems to fly in the face of all this nostalgic ‘macho-nesses. There has been, in recent years, an almost unprecedented explosion of interest in the romance genre by primarily female readers, with a flow-on fascination in everything from ’50 Shades of Grey’ to ‘The Idea of You’ as rom’ (sometimes -com) films. By contrast, of female-centric movies or series’ drawing from classical antiquity that have emerged since the year 2000, I can only recall a scant few: (the rather phenomenal) Agora, Boudica, Boudicca: Warrior Queen of Ancient Britain, Gladiatress, Wonder Woman, Wonder Woman 1984 and the series Domina. She’s just not that into you (ie, the Greco-Roman past) would seem a fair summation.
Naturally, humankind has had an abiding, if not singular, fixation with heroines and heroes apparently for as long as we sat around campfires munching on mammoth bones. In his monumental The Hero With 1,000 Faces’ Joseph Campbell reinforces not just the existential-affirming universality of such an obsession with larger-than-life characters, but also reminds us that they can gain heightened prominence at times of cultural anxiety, or decay. So, what happened in the late 1950s and early 1960s and then again at the turn of the 2000s and again right now that might have provoked this explosion of interest in sword and sandal ancient mega-blokes (for at least a modern bloke audience)? Has the West been suffering some sort of identity crisis – at least for men – around those dates, or merely recombobulating its sense of self? If it’s the supposed fall of the West, or at least fears thereof that spark such interest, surely there’ll be a veritable avalanche of new such movies and series with the current US regime wreaking such havoc upon Western unity? Or is Trump, Caligula in a badly cut suit and as soon as he tries to elect his horse (or golf buggy) to the Senate, he’ll be declared madder than a cut snake and this existential threat will pass and so, too, will we lose a potential flood of creative classicism? Or is there a better explanation?
Time to dump the rose-tinted specs
In her article, Even the Ancient Greeks thought their Best Days were History, Johanna Hanink argues that this craving for distant, better days, this sentimental longing for a past known only through often rose-tinted glasses is far from unique to our own generation(s). Classical Athens’ greatest generation were the Marathonomachai, who vanquished the Persians at The Battle of Marathon in 490 BCE. Similarly for the Spartans, none of their famed ranks could ever rival – let alone exceed – the exploits of King Leonidas and his 300 at Thermopylae. Aristophanes in his Knights and The Frogs, Eupolis in The Demes, the tragedian Astydamas and the great orator Demosthenes all explored a nostalgia-tinged past – setting up a critical reflector to their own, troubled days – to show “…that Greece just ain’t what it used to be…” (as Hanink puts it so neatly). There is even a word for this in the English lexicon – derived from the Greek – anemoia, which refers specifically to the desire to experience a non-lived, ancient past that can only be reached through historical accounts, myths and legends or raw imagination.
I agree with Hanink. There’s really nothing new under the sun and while that manifestation of Western power (i.e., the Roman empire) may be in strike-back mode in some minds, it’s more likely the case that a profound psychological yearning for a ‘better’, simpler past overwhelms us at times. As it has done for countless centuries and through countless generations.
When that great, acerbic writer, Tacitus (or the Roman Polybius, as he is sometimes referred to), wrote in his Germania of the tribes of Northern Europe who were so macho as to somehow put his own world-conquering people to shame, he was not just engaged in a cheeky stab at how civilisation can actually enervate manhood, but wistfully contemplating a mostly-imaginary past where men were men and anything ‘less’ were, well, just plain scared.
*Dr. John A. Martino is the coauthor of Olympia The Birth of the Games, a regular contributor and a veteran, honourably discharged from the Australian Defense Force. He who completed his Ph.D. in Classical History at Monash University.
