Damnant quod non intelligent
The name of this post, by the way, means, "They condemn what they do not understand."
Here I am, wrapped up in summarizing Caribbean history essays on the black middle class in 19th century Jamaica...and on the other hand, writing a comic tale about Rome. Well, it's not meant to be comic, but it is anyway because I'm writing in old English - "On the contrary, sire, what would put another man past all redemption is becoming in thee, for thou art Caesar, and in my eyes all others pale in comparison." - and simply because of the very essence of the story: it's a romance. A romance between Gaius Julius Caesar (he of the infamous, "Et tu, Brute?") and a slave.
Before you ask, no, it's not a Mary-Sue.
Her name is Callisto, born to a Greek general father and an Egyptian aristocratic mother. With this high birth behind her, then, how did she become a slave? Well, she grew up in Gaul, which Caesar managed to conquer. His men raided their villages, rounded up the younger population and brought them back as slaves. Caesar chose Callisto to serve him and sold the rest to the slave traders who had accompanied them on the journey to Gaul - after, of course, his battle-frenzied men had pleasured themselves with the women and boys. Yes, boys. Don't watch me so.
It's not a romance in the truest sense of the word. Callisto is not in love with Caesar. She holds him in high esteem as he is a great man and a great leader, and, of course, power is extremely attractive. And Caesar wields more power than any other single individual in the known world, so obviously she is more than willing to be used as an outlet for his sexual frustrations.
Caesar is also not in love with Callisto. She is beautiful and more cultured than any slave has a right to be; having been raised as a member of the upper Gaulish class, she was taught the arts of music, dancing and pleasant conversation, and is more learned than most women of the time. She does not, interestingly enough, have the slender, sylph-like form considered fashionable at the time, but this does not prevent her from being savagely, irresistibly beautiful.
Yet he is not in love with her. This Caesar as described by me is electrified by a primordial need for dominance and has very little room for human emotion. He can be witty, charming, warm or caring at will - these qualities in him are always performances, produced as needed and rarely if ever prompted by genuine feeling. He is amused by Callisto and admires her unusual ways, and he converses with her freely about the affairs of his masculine, military world, yet this is not love. And when he sleeps with her, the joining of their two bodies into one complete whole - that is not love either. Sex does not create a bond between people in the Roman world; it is merely an act that must inevitably occasionally occur.
Enter into the fray one of Caesar's legionnaires, a man named Titus Rufus, and a centurion called Lucius Lepidus. These two show Callisto varying degrees of kindness as they become more and more involved both with Caesar and with her. Rufus is a man of great and uncommon courage but with the morality of a pirate. He is an impulsive, generous and congenial fellow, possessing huge appetites and wild passions. Lepidus on the other hand is the essence of a professional Roman soldier, honourable and severe, though pitiless and unforgiving when crossed. He is not unnecessarily cruel, and will show kindness where it is needed.
How shall this turn out? Only time will tell. And in honour of this story, a Latin quote.
In vino veritas - In wine there is truth.
Here I am, wrapped up in summarizing Caribbean history essays on the black middle class in 19th century Jamaica...and on the other hand, writing a comic tale about Rome. Well, it's not meant to be comic, but it is anyway because I'm writing in old English - "On the contrary, sire, what would put another man past all redemption is becoming in thee, for thou art Caesar, and in my eyes all others pale in comparison." - and simply because of the very essence of the story: it's a romance. A romance between Gaius Julius Caesar (he of the infamous, "Et tu, Brute?") and a slave.
Before you ask, no, it's not a Mary-Sue.
Her name is Callisto, born to a Greek general father and an Egyptian aristocratic mother. With this high birth behind her, then, how did she become a slave? Well, she grew up in Gaul, which Caesar managed to conquer. His men raided their villages, rounded up the younger population and brought them back as slaves. Caesar chose Callisto to serve him and sold the rest to the slave traders who had accompanied them on the journey to Gaul - after, of course, his battle-frenzied men had pleasured themselves with the women and boys. Yes, boys. Don't watch me so.
It's not a romance in the truest sense of the word. Callisto is not in love with Caesar. She holds him in high esteem as he is a great man and a great leader, and, of course, power is extremely attractive. And Caesar wields more power than any other single individual in the known world, so obviously she is more than willing to be used as an outlet for his sexual frustrations.
Caesar is also not in love with Callisto. She is beautiful and more cultured than any slave has a right to be; having been raised as a member of the upper Gaulish class, she was taught the arts of music, dancing and pleasant conversation, and is more learned than most women of the time. She does not, interestingly enough, have the slender, sylph-like form considered fashionable at the time, but this does not prevent her from being savagely, irresistibly beautiful.
Yet he is not in love with her. This Caesar as described by me is electrified by a primordial need for dominance and has very little room for human emotion. He can be witty, charming, warm or caring at will - these qualities in him are always performances, produced as needed and rarely if ever prompted by genuine feeling. He is amused by Callisto and admires her unusual ways, and he converses with her freely about the affairs of his masculine, military world, yet this is not love. And when he sleeps with her, the joining of their two bodies into one complete whole - that is not love either. Sex does not create a bond between people in the Roman world; it is merely an act that must inevitably occasionally occur.
Enter into the fray one of Caesar's legionnaires, a man named Titus Rufus, and a centurion called Lucius Lepidus. These two show Callisto varying degrees of kindness as they become more and more involved both with Caesar and with her. Rufus is a man of great and uncommon courage but with the morality of a pirate. He is an impulsive, generous and congenial fellow, possessing huge appetites and wild passions. Lepidus on the other hand is the essence of a professional Roman soldier, honourable and severe, though pitiless and unforgiving when crossed. He is not unnecessarily cruel, and will show kindness where it is needed.
How shall this turn out? Only time will tell. And in honour of this story, a Latin quote.
In vino veritas - In wine there is truth.
posted by Ariana at 12:48 AM
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