"I AM HIYA!" Part 2

More Graffiti in Dura Europos (3rd century CE)

Azzanathkona is coming! 

Who on earth has ever even heard of Azzanathkona? Few of us, I admit, but I did warn you (in Part I of "I am Hiya") that she was coming into the picture.

So, here she is (left) as shown on an altar, seated on her throne and flanked by two guardian lions.  A man (presumably the chap who dedicated the altar) makes an offering -- almost dropping the plate on her head -- while a son or servant leads the cow that will be sacrificed.

This is the only certain portrayal of the goddess Azzanathkona.  Her image is so utterly rare because no other temple dedicated to her has ever been found .  Scholars think that the goddess originally hailed from the island of Anatha (Azzanathkona) in the Euphrates river, very far away to the south.  Another theory locates her home in the middle of the vast Nejd desert in Arabia, where a city named Azzanathkona was said to lie south of the Petra-Ctesiphon trade route.  That mysterious place was last spotted by a sergeant in the Long Range Desert Group, the sole survivor of unit lost in the Nejd in 1942: he told of squat round towers emerging from the sand, of his vehicle's wheels breaking through the ground into an ossuary, and of an obligatory Biblical plague of scorpions.

He was clearly raving.

Centre: T. Azzanathkona; E8: Roman garrison HQ

Wherever she came from, her temple (left, central circle) was one of the oldest in Dura, having been built before 12/13 CE.  While its chapels and shrines were constructed by ethnic Syrians, the goddess was also worshipped by Durenes of Greek extraction, most especially among the women.  Ladies of well-to-do families, both Semitic and Greek,  possessed seats in the front room of the temple (the pronaos) which were passed down from mother to daughter(s).  There, they carried out rites from which men were excluded.  By the time the Romans occupied the city (165 CE), Azzanathkona had become identified with Artemis -- another goddess who often didn't like men poking their noses in.  

It's possible that a more informal portrait of Azzanathkona also exists.  This graffiti (left) comes from a blocked-up doorway in her temple, so it should date from before the  final phase, when the temple may no longer have been religiously functional.  It shows a female figure with an elaborate headdress and what looks like a halo around her head dropping incense onto a burning altar.

Graffiti of all kinds was as common in the Temple of Azzanathkona as in the synagogue ("I am Hiya!",Part I): almost 100 name and remembrance scribbles have been recorded, many of them also clustered around doors and in sacred spaces.  Pictorial graffiti, however, such as this red-painted image, is very much more common in the Azzanathkona complex.  
 

Boy-Talk

Around 210 CE, the Roman army walled off the whole north-west sector of Dura-Europos and turned it into a military camp (roughly the area shown on the map at the top).  The temple of Azzanathkona was taken over primarily by the XXth Palmyrenes, a unit of mounted Palmyran archers based in Dura.  The soldiers installed themselves in a suite of small rooms located against the north city wall and which was cut off from the temple courtyard by cross-walls. It is not clear if civilians continued to worship in the main temple but the many military papyri and parchments found in this area  show that these rooms had become a clerical office staffed by military scribes.

Kilroy was here, too.

Painted Rotas/Sator square: T. Azzanathkona

Most of the pictorial graffiti dates from after the military remodelling of the temple. It seems very likely that the military scribes were responsible for most if not all of the names and drawings scrawled on the walls here.  Especially interesting are three so-called Rotas/Sator squares, a palindrome -- that is, read the same forwards or backwards -- formed by the words: rotas/opera/tenet/arepo/sator.  This formula, known from elsewhere in the empire, including centuries earlier at Pompeii, has been interpreted (or misinterpreted) as a magical formula, a hidden Christian text with the letters spelling out pater noster, a Mithraic text, or, inevitably, as a mysterious Egyptian incantation.  Whatever it means, these are among the very rare graffiti at Dura written in Latin: less than 3% compared to about 80% in Greek, and 20% bilingual, Semitic, or pictorial without text. 

When they were not playing with Rotas/Sator squares, the scribes who had taken over these quarters -- and who were meant to be writing up cavalry rosters -- tried their hands at more ambitious drawings.  

A mounted hunter draws his bow on a charging wild boar in an ink drawing on the wall of a small room in the temple.   The bearded hunter wears a long-sleeve tunic over wide trousers tucked into ankle boots.  The hilt of his sword and  scabbard are visible on his hip and a quiver full of arrows hangs on the horse's flank.  The horse is pictured in flying gallop (all four hooves off the ground) confronting the boar which leaps out of a bed of reeds.*  

When the soldiers in the records office were not dreaming of boar-hunting, they set off after gigantic lions such as still lived at the time in the marshes of the Euphrates valley.

On the opposite wall of the same room, a clean-shaven mounted archer aims his bow at an attacking lion.  His horse has a small head and short legs.  The excavators weren't clear if he (or his mates) had never finished the other horse graffiti or if they were just not well preserved. 

The Semitic name written in Greek letters ZABAO YC [= Zabdous] inscribed above the horseman could be the man who made the drawings, or just someone who came along later and put his name on the wall.  VICTOR, I assume, means that the horseman got his lion.  This Latin word was probably added later.

Rites of Spring

When not thinking of hunting or horses, the soldiers unsurprisingly turned their minds to women.

This well-coiffed lady has her curly hair parted in the middle and drawn up into a knot on top.  She wears a gem or metal circlet as a forehead ornament and a necklace of five strands with a tiny gem or medallion on the lowest strand.  She may have been holding a wreath or tambourine in her left hand.

It is possible, of course (as her discoverers would have it), that she is a mythic figure but, having a low mind, I think it more likely that the scribbling soldier was musing about some female musician or entertainer, such as we know were present at Dura. 

In which case, the presence of a naked, winged youth (identified as Amor-Eros) elsewhere on the same wall would make a certain sense.**  

Quite naturally, too, in springtime, a young man's fancy  turns to sport.  Given the roughness of the times, that doesn't mean football but gladiators.

This gladiator from the same room as the above graffiti is provided with Thracian equipment: a beaked helmet with vizor, rectangular shield with convex rim, curved dagger, greaves, and high-laced boots.  This is a pretty accurate picture which suggests that the soldiers of the XXth Palmyrenes had recently cheered gladiatorial combats.  That would not have been at Palmyra (which lacked an amphitheatre), but at Dura, where an amphitheatre was dedicated in 216 CE on behalf of the Legio IV Scythica and Legio III Cyrenaica (located southeast of the Temple of Azzanathkona on the map above).

Worship post-Azzanathkona

The elaborate scene below was drawn in ink on the wall of the clerical department, surely by Palmyran military scribes even though their names are translated into Greek.  The central figure on the pedestal is the Palmyran sun god, Iarhibol (who is named on the base), dressed in formal Roman military attire.

Iarhibol is crowned with solar rays and a halo, and holds a staff in his raised right hand.  The goddess of Victory flies in from his left, holding out a ribboned wreath and a palm frond; from the other side, an eagle flies towards the god with a wreath in its beak.

Below the Victory, a man drawn in a cruder style (most probably a later addition) offers incense.  A painted inscription identifies the intruder as 'Artemidorus, the standard-bearer'; under his feet, by another later hand, is the name (in Latin) SALVIANUS.  The original offerant stands on the god's right: a man dressed in the uniform of a Roman officer who burns incense on an altar.  His name is Heliodorus but someone later scratched the word 'Victor' (in Greek) over his name, probably referring to the god rather than the officer. Behind Heliodorus, a small boy raises a palm frond.  The lad is almost under the hooves of an approaching horse ridden by a Palmyran nobleman.  The horseman wears an Eastern tunic, trousers, and soft boots.  His heavy-bodied horse is fully harnessed, with decorative trappings behind a large quiver, a partly wrapped tail, and two large hair tassels. Was this major figure part of the intended original composition; or not?

Graffiti never stands still. Not only did the standard-bearer Artemidorus elbow his way in, but there is a bull's head with incurving horns to the left of Iarhibol's statue, and some small circles (meant as gold coins?) strewn below the horse.  

So even this ritual scene, so carefully drawn as to suggest veneration, was subject to casual changes.   Presumably, the officer Heliodorus who sponsored the graffiti (or had it offered him by a sycophantic scribe?) did not complain.  After all, graffiti is informal, unplanned, and unpredictable.  Yet, Heliodorus is strikingly similar in appearance and pose to the tribune Julius Terrentius in the fresco of the Temple of the Palmyran Gods, just down the road from Azzanathkona's temple.

That's where we are going in the next post.   The graffiti there is even more surprising.



* The inked inscription behind the hunter reads (in Greek) ROUBATHIL leus.  It's not a name or text that I know: if anyone can interpret this for me, I'd be most grateful!

** Sorry, I have no picture of the male nude (not that I'm prudish but no drawing was published). 


Sources (in addition to those listed in Part I) include John Stathatos' post on Azzanathkona, N.J. Andrade, "Imitation Greeks": Being Syrian in the Greco-Roman World (175 BCE-275 CE), 313-15;  J.A. Baird, 'The Graffiti of Dura Europos: A Contextual Approach' in (J.A. Baird & C. Taylor (eds.,) Ancient Graffiti in Context, 59-60; L. Dirven, The Palmyrenes of Dura-Europos, 1999; N. Pollard, Soldiers, Cities, & Civilians in Roman Syria, 2000, 44-58;  P.M. Edwell, Between Rome and Persia, 2008, Ch. 4.



Illustrations

Top left:  Altar for Azzanathkona, #600094: Damascus National Museum (50-150 CE).  Via Arachne.

Below left 1: Magnetometry survey superimposed on the plan of the military base.  After 'The Roman Military at Dura'; website of University of Leicester.

Below left 2: Standing Woman or Goddess with Incense Burner, Block E 7 , East Wall, blocked-up doorway in Room W14. Red paint.  B. Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; 50, Fig. D2). 

Below left 3: Acrostic Rotas/Sator square from the Temple of Azzanathkona. Paint on plaster.  Photo Credit: Yale University Art Gallery.

Below centre: Mounted Boar Hunter, Block E7, Room W14. Ink on plaster. B. Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; 35, Fig. B1b).

Below left 4: Mounted Lion Hunter and Horse, Block E 7, Room W14. Ink on plaster. B. Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; 35, Fig. B2b).

Below left 5:  Standing Woman or Goddess, Block E 7, Room W 14. B. Ink on plaster.  Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; Fig.52, Fig. D4)

Below left 6: Gladiator, Block E7. B. Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; 61, Fig. D21).

Below:  Celebration of the solar god Iarhibol. Ink on plaster or gypsum. Photo credit:  Yale University Art Gallery.  Cf.: B. Goldman, 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106; 68-69, Fig. F2).
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Zenobia, last ibis in Syria

 
From 'red-list endangered' to extinct.

We interrupt our series on graffiti at Dura Europos to bring you a special announcement.  
 
In the midst of our sadness and grief at events in Syria, comes one wretched extra ill omen (as if more were needed):  the tiny breeding population of the Northern Bald Ibis in Palmyra has collapsed.  This year, only Zenobia (left) returned to the breeding grounds in the Syrian desert not far from Palmyra after the winter's migration to the Ethiopian highlands.

We have been following Zenobia's story from March 2007 (Zenobia's Triumphant Return to Palmyra) with further hopeful updates with the Latest News in 2011 and 2012. 

And then there was one.

This sad report came in this morning from SEO/Bird Life: 

Only one of the Northern Bald Ibis has returned to the breeding site at Palmyra this spring. Unfortunately, there are no signs of any more birds so far returning from their migration to Ethiopia. The returning female Zenobia was last year paired to Odeinat, the last male, which was fitted with a small satellite tag that stopped transmitting in southern Saudi Arabia in July 2012....

This looks ominously like it may be the end for the relict eastern population of the species, having been rediscovered in 2002 when there were 3 breeding pairs. Despite huge efforts the colony dwindled to just one pair in the past two years and now it seems to just the one bird. 

The Palmyran ibis colony discovered in 2002 never rose above 13 birds. They were the last of a Middle Eastern population that once numbered several thousand; and the bird was classified as critically endangered – the highest level of threat there is.

The northern bald ibis, Geronticus eremita, is a large bird with black plumage that flashes irridescent purple and green when the light strikes it, with a bald red face, red bill and legs, and a strange crest of long feathers on the back of its head, which makes it look as though it is wearing a feather wig. It is usually silent but hisses and grunts (like an angry queen) when at its nest and in display.

Zenobia is now alone; and soon there are none. 


Illustrations

Top: Zenobia the ibis, during satellite tagging at Palmyra in 2006. Photo courtesy of G. Serra (via NATGEO News Watch).

Middle:  Last Syrian ibis among bedouin tents.  Photo credit:  M.S. Abdallah (via SEO/BirdLife).

Below: Northern Bald Ibis.  Photo credit: Brian Stone (via SEO/BirdLife).
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"I AM HIYA!"

Graffiti in Dura Europos (3rd-century CE)

Who was Mr. Hiya that he dared to scrawl his name at least three times on the door posts and walls of the synagogue in Dura Europos?  A blasphemer?  Or just a little schmuck like men who wrote 'Kilroy was here!', whose fools' names and fools' faces always appeared in public places...?

Kilroy Was Here!

Kilroy first showed up on graffiti left by a mysterious American soldier during the landing in Normandy in 1944 -- or so it was said: no one really knows how the meme began. But thousands of 'Kilroy was here' drawings were scratched and sketched everywhere in Europe during the last years of World War II, especially in newly captured areas or landings, often in the most risky places, and so the phrase became connected with the presence of US troops.  The big Kilroy graffiti fad ended in the 1950s, but today people all over the world still scribble that bald-headed character and 'Kilroy was here' in schools, trains, and other similar public areas.

In short, Kilroy is a pain. 

Graffiti often is. 

Vandalism!

Graffiti is defined as any writing or drawings scribbled, scratched, or sprayed on a wall or other surface in a place where it didn't originally belong.*  It's never part of the intended decoration.  Graffiti ranges from simple written words, especially names, to elaborate wall paintings, and it has existed for millennia -- with countless examples dating back to ancient Egypt, Greece, and all over the Roman empire.

The mountain of ash that covered Pompeii in 79 CE preserved hundreds, if not thousands of such scrawls (like the section of wall pictured above).  There is even an early  meta-reference in the form of an epigram found on a graffiti-covered wall:

I wonder, O wall, that you have not fallen
in ruins from supporting the stupidities 
of so many scribblers

Pompeiian graffiti runs the gamut of personal names and public inanities (such as declarations of love), but some are more ambitious -- or at least more intriguing -- including scribbled curses, magic spells, alphabets, political slogans, and literary quotations.** One inscription gives the address of a woman named Novellia Primigenia of Nuceria, a prostitute reputed to be of great beauty, whose services were much in demand. Another shows a penis accompanied by the text, 'mansueta tene': Handle with care.

Graffiti needn't be quite so rude, but whatever it may be saying, it is -- in and of itself -- always subversive. Looking back from the remove of two thousand years, however, makes the heart grow fonder: such long-ago scribbles display both an individual identity and the kind of intended social interaction that is seldom visible in the distant past.

The Social Hubbub at Dura Europos

Three separate studies have recently taken up the subject of graffiti at Dura, a much lesser known time and place than Pompeii [some background at Zenobia's Gods at the Crossroads].  Now, what's really interesting is that the three historians approach the Durene graffiti from different angles and yet agree in their conclusions: Maura Heyn sets the scene, studying graffiti in the pagan Temple of the Palmyran Gods, while Karen Stern was looking at the scrawls in the Jewish synagogue just down the road from the Palmyran Gods, and at much the same time Jennifer Baird examined graffiti scribbled by visitors on the walls of private houses.  They agree that such graffiti wasn't meant as desecration: it wasn't even illicit or subversive, but rather, it "...show[s] that the presence of scratching text or pictures into walls was, actually, normal at the site."

It seems it was fairly commonplace to leave your own mark on the walls -- even within a god's temple, or a synagogue, or in someone else's home that you happened to be visiting!

So, let's get down to the nitty-gritty.

The synagogue

Torah Shrine and West Wall of synagogue

 In 1932, excavators discovered the walls of a synagogue's assembly hall, largely intact and adorned with over 70 narrative paintings that included labelled images of Moses, Aaron, and other Biblical figures. Although some figures, such as Moses, Ezra, and Abraham are slightly Hellenistic Greek in style, the rest wear Persian garments, displaying little that is reminiscent of Greco-Roman art.

The surviving graffiti didn't make quite such a publicity splash as the paintings did but they were preserved in the same extraordinary way.  During the last days of the city (see Zenobia on The Death of Dura Europos), as they fought off a fierce attack by the Sassanian Persians, the Durenes dumped a huge mass of sand and earth over all the buildings near the vulnerable western wall, thus burying everything along the inside of the wall.  The result was an extended rampart roughly 20 m (60') wide, with an easy gradient to permit troops to run up to any point on the battlements.  It wasn't quite enough: after a gruelling siege, the Persians took the city in 256/7 CE.  Long after Dura's destruction, the buildings incorporated into the defensive embankment continued to resist collapse. The city's population did not survive the Persian attack, but portions of buildings, such as the inscribed and painted walls of the Temple of the Palmyran Gods and the synagogue walls, did. 

So, who was Hiya?

Top: I am Hiya .Below: I am Hanani son of Samuel

Hiya's first message consisted of two simple words, "I [am] Hiya", scratched into a doorpost of the synagogue (underneath, a second man added his own moniker).  According to Karen Stern,

[t]he Aramaic letters of the text are carved irregularly and largely enough to have been visible from the building's elaborately decorated assembly hall. But unlike other elegantly painted inscriptions from the synagogue that clearly announce the names and donations of esteemed benefactors, the presence of this terse graffito, limited to a pronoun and a personal name, initially appears inexplicable. How, if at all, can we make sense of this crudely carved text, placed so ostentatiously in this sacred setting?

It's hard for us to imagine today that anyone would set his name so blatantly within a place of worship unless he intended an act of impiety or scorn.  Hiya certainly wasn't shy:  two more inscriptions can be attributed to him (I am Hiya, son of ..., and I Hiya, son of ... . (am) their father/chief).  If synagogue patrons or visitors had found these markings intolerable, why didn't they just scratch them out or paint over them?  The fact that they didn't (and no graffiti bear any signs of attempted defacement or erasure) must mean that graffiti represent acceptable acts within the sacred space of the synagogue.  In fact, Hiya was not exceptional: at least 47 examples of such graffiti in Greek and Aramaic survive on portions of the synagogue walls and on fragments of door-jambs and door-frames, often with many different names crowded onto the surviving fragments.   These inscriptions may have been considered unremarkable because they were so common.

Remember Me For Good!

Another common type of graffiti in the synagogue are the remembrance inscriptions. These name individuals who should "be remembered" (dkyr/zkyr lw, or the equivalent formula in Greek mnēsthē: "remember").  One such Aramaic graffito is six lines long (left) and reads:

Aliyah son of ... of the sons of Levi. May he be remembered for good before the Lord of Heaven. Amen. This is a memorial for good. 

A male torso with a circle on the left breast appears beneath the text. Perhaps this is an image of Aliyah, thus doubly ensuring that he will be remembered.

What's the point of all this scribbling?

The synagogue graffiti, cut into the hard-to-carve and friable plaster with a stylus or other sharp tool, do not look very pretty but they are legible at close range.  Anyway, aesthetics are not the point.  As Professor Stern says, "The seemingly slapdash writing,  whether in Aramaic or Greek, should not fool us into thinking that these texts were casual or unimportant." The letters are written large and they were meant to be read by visitors.

In fact, as she reminds us, the underlying hope is that passersby will remember -- or read out loud -- such names that appear in the holy place.  If so, the graffiti are remarkable in a good way, because they let individuals  communicate with the deity and with like-minded devotees at the same time.   In short, they will have served as a type of prayer offered up to the divine:  "I am Hiya! Remember me!" Not for him John Donne's prayer:

That thou remember them, some claim as debt;

I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.

This, then, is what the synagogue graffiti might mean: the act of inscribing one's name and/or requesting remembrance for good is a prayer to the deity in its own right.  At the same time, the audience's response plays an additional role in boosting the efficacy of text or image. 

Perhaps the graffiti artists expected visitors to the building to read the messages out loud in the specific location where they viewed them.  The thick clustering of graffiti around doors and on door-jambs would then make good sense: if a man (and they are all men; no female graffiti have been found) wanted his name to be recited by visitors to give it that extra punch, putting it near the assembly-hall door seems like a smart move.  Engraved, painted or recited names and remembrance requests should be seen, then, as another kind of devotional practice, or prayer, once conducted inside the synagogue -- leaving the surviving graffiti as the only witness to these vanished activities. 

Part II of this post will look at what visitors to the temples of the Palmyran Gods, Aphlad, Azzanathkona, Mithras, and even the Christian church left in the way of graffiti.  Who in Dura's diverse polyglot population scratched their names and remembrance requests in their own sacred spaces?

Kilroy was everywhere.



* Oxford On-line Dictionaries .   While graffito is the correct singular form of graffiti, in practice graffiti may be treated as either singular or plural. 

 **  More history and examples at Wikipedia.  However, their article errs in stating that the earliest graffiti appeared at Ephesus: ancient graffiti begins at least with the Egyptians: it already appeared in the pyramid of Khufu (ca. 2560 BCE); for a more scholarly discussion, especially of Egyptian New Kingdom graffiti, see'An Introduction to Visitors' Graffiti' (The Visitors' Graffiti of Dynasties XVIII and XIX in Abusir and Saqqara by Hana Navratilov).  A fuller discussion of graffiti at Pompeii, 'Reading the Writing on Pompeii's Walls' and some choice examples at Graffiti from Pompeii.  On modern graffiti, see the Graffiti Archaeology Project .  Not least, a new blog devoted to early graffiti is Chloe Ragazzoli's 'Scribbling Through History'.  

Sources.  My sincere thanks to the authors of the three key papers, who so kindly made their articles available: Maura K. Heyn, ('The Terentius Scene in Context', in [L.R. Brody and G. L. Hoffman, eds.] Dura Europos: Crossroads of Antiquity, Boston, 2011, 55-67), Karen B. Stern ('Tagging Sacred Space in the Dura Europos Synagogue', JRA 25/1, 2012, 171-194), and warmest thanks to Jennifer A. Baird for helpful links as well as an advance copy of her forthcoming 'Private Graffiti? Scratching the Walls of Houses at Dura Europos' (in [R. Benefiel and P. Keegan, eds.] Inscriptions in Private Places, Leiden).  I have also made much use of Bernard Goldman's 'Pictorial Graffiti of Dura Europos' (Parthica 1, 1999,19-106)  -- with special thanks to Chuck Jones for his help.  

Illustrations  

Top: 'Kilroy was here!' Credit: J.-N. L., re-drawn in July 2006 via Wikipedia.  

Centre: Graffiti on a wall in Pompeii.  From Goldman, Pictorial Graffiti, Fig. 17. 

Top left: Graffiti from Dura Europos.  Yale e-catalogue no. 1938.5999.190.  Photo credit: Yale University Art Gallery.

Middle left: Graffiti on doorpost of synagogue: K. Stern (reference above), Fig. 2.

Lower left: Torah Shrine and West Wall of Synagogue installed at the National Museum of Damascus.  Photo credit:  Yale University Art Gallery.

Lowest left: Ahaih, remembrance graffito: K. Stern (reference above), Fig. 6 
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The Curse of Artemisia

He was her man, and he done her wrong!

That's more or less what a woman named Artemisia, daughter of Amasis, said to her erstwhile lover, and so she made a curse.  She didn't exactly sing it and there wasn't any jazz band in the land, but the sentiment is one that resonates through the ages:

This story has no moral,
This story has no end,
This story just goes to show
That there ain't no good in men,
He was her man, And he done her wrong.

The Artemisia of the curse left one of the earliest surviving Greek documents written on papyrus, dated to the middle of the 4th century BCE, probably written even before the arrival of Alexander the Great in Egypt (332 BCE).  It comes from the Ionian community in Memphis -- that is, from the Greeks who originally lived in central coastal Anatolia and who settled at that time in a merchant colony on the Nile just south of modern Cairo. 

The Curse of Artemisia Papyrus (P. Vindob. G 1)

Who is Artemisia?

The woman is named after the famous female ruler of Caria who, Herodotus tells us in his Histories , personally commanded five ships at the naval battle of Salamis in 480 BCE.  She was a Persian ally and fought audaciously, to put it mildly.  But the Persians lost and their king, who had watched the battle, is supposed to have said, "My men have become women and my women, men."  So when Amasis named his daughter after this queen, he was making quite a statement.  Curiously, however, Amasis himself bore the name of the last native pharaoh (died 526 BCE) who ruled Egypt just before it was conquered and incorporated into the Persian Empire. It may be that our Artemisia was the child of a mixed Ionian-Egyptian family.  We know nothing else about her ... except, of course, that she wrote this text.

And that her man had done her wrong.  He fathered a daughter on her but when the little girl died, he refused to pay for the funeral and her burial goods.  A proper burial is everywhere  important but nowhere more so than in Egypt.  So Artemisia cursed him bitterly: 

O lord [Sarapis] and the gods who sit with [Sarapis], Artemisia the daughter of Amasis [appeals] to you against the father of her daughter, who has deprived her of her funeral rights and burial.  So ... he has not treated me and his children rightly, indeed he has treated me and his children wrongly....

She begs the god to deny this man, tit for tat, the solace of being buried by his children in turn, and for good measure that he fails to bury his own parents.  She then curses the man who mistreated her roundly: may he and what is his be destroyed evilly on land and on sea by [Serapis] and the gods who sit in the House of [Serapis].  To ensure that the god hears her plea, she sensibly deposits the papyrus in the god's house, the Serapeum which existed at Memphis (and where it was found almost two millennia later), along with a final angry demand: While the appeal lies here, may the father of the young girl receive no favours at all from the gods. 

Neglecting the Curse of Artemisia

Discovered in 1826, this papyrus should have been received with jubilation by the scholarly community.  After all, it was one of the first Greek papyri ever to come to light and it is, to this day, still one of the oldest papyri bearing Greek writing.  Far from being acclaimed, however, it was entirely neglected until 1899 when it was republished in Palaeography of Greek Papyri.  It was then damned with no praise, the scholar noting that the letters of the script were a bit clumsy and imitate those of stone inscriptions (for example, the theta with middle dot). Rather crude, in fact.  Clearly, the papyrus was not up to snuff:   

[It] is not the work of a professional scribe, but the writing of an uneducated woman who uses uncial letters [i.e., written entirely in capital letters] because she can form no others.  Artemisia used letters like those employed in inscriptions for the same reason that an illiterate person always uses capitals, because such letters were commonly before her eyes in public places, while she had probably seldom seen a book.

Snob!  

For professors entirely accustomed to studying the literary texts written by the 1-2% of the Greek writing elite -- the poets, philosophers, politicians, historians, and buddy scholars -- the mostly anonymous lower social classes for all intents and purposes remained unknown ... and unwanted.  Who cared about the ideas, thoughts, hopes and fears of artisans, shopkeepers, merchants, homemakers and whores, farmers, soldiers and sailors?  Oracles, dreams, magic spells and curses alike were  low-brow, barbaric, disgusting!  Only a few of these people were able to write anything better than scrawls.*  

But what the Artemisia papyrus demonstrates is that there was very little difference between literary and non-literary scripts in the 4th century BCE -- and certainly not in the Greek colony of Memphis on the Nile. In other words, Greek handwriting, both for literature and more ephemeral documents, was all originally in 'epigraphic' form, which resembled the lettering on monumental inscriptions: 

In the beginnings of writing on papyrus it cannot be doubted that, in formally and carefully written [manuscripts], the shapes of the letters were nearly identical with those in contemporaneous use in inscriptions; and the greater or less occurrence of epigraphic forms, in a [manuscript] written, not by an uneducated person (as in the case of the Artemisia papyrus), but by a trained scribe, may be taken as evidence for a relatively early date.

 If, at this early date, trained scribes wrote in much the same way as Artemisia, it may be concluded that she could write tolerably well and must have been educated to better than a basic level.  The fact that one of the first Greeks in Egypt to put pen (or stylus) to papyrus was a woman obviously rankled with gentlemen scholars.  It made the curse seem even worse.  Much better to ignore it.  

For some it seems, There ain't no good in women.

Many more scrawls and scratches coming up, with new posts planned on graffiti at Dura Europos.



* Greek literary culture was largely oral up to the fourth century BCE, but reading became widespread at least a century earlier. Up to 10% of the Athenian population was able to read (and write), and this figure was no doubt more than double among the male citizens.  In pharaonic Egypt -- probably the most literate society of its time-- an estimated 1-5% of the population was literate. However, generalisations covering the whole country, even within any one period, mask differences between urban and rural populations. This may seriously underestimate the proportion of the population able to read and write in towns; the estimate of literacy for some Egyptian urban populations may have reached ca. 15%: see Digital Egypt for Universities, UCL.

Sources: My thanks to the blog of Brice C. Jones for recently highlighting the Curse of Artemisia. Other sources include W. M. Brashear, 'Out of the Closet: Recent Corpora of Magical Texts', Classical Philology 91 (Oct., 1996), 372-383; (J. Rowlandson & R. S. Bagnall, eds.) Women and Society in Greek and Roman Egypt: A Sourcebook, CUP, 1998, No. 37;  A. Mugridge, Writing and Writers in Antiquity: Two "Spectra" in Greek Handwriting, American Studies in Papyrology (Ann Arbor 2010) 573–580.

Illustration

The papyrus fragment (35.5 x 8.5 cm). P. Vindob. G 1. Photograph: World Digital Library

Diadems Are Forever (Part II)

Do as the Romans Do.  But what did they do in Palmyra?

How strong was the cultural impact of Rome on far-away Palmyra, a city in Syrian desert -- closer to the Euphrates River than to any other part of the Roman Empire?

Nowadays, historians have a fairly nuanced view of  cultural identity. It is seen as a kind of layer-cake, with overlapping hard and soft zones which are constantly changing as the one bumps up against another.  In fact, having multiple cultural identities was a remarkable feature of the Roman world: people constantly added layers to the cake instead of just absorbing Roman flavourings. Thus, the elite of Palmyra (and those are the only people of this rich city that we really know anything about) continued to display  local pride, traditions, and ideals rather than aspire to being, in any real sense, solely Roman.

Proof of the Pudding

In a Master's thesis, recently completed at Leiden University (Diadems: a girl’s best friend? Jewellery finds and sculptural representations of jewellery from Rome and Palmyra in the first two centuries AD), Ms Andrea Raat explored the relationship between a provincial society (= Palmyra) and the core of the Empire (= Rome) by focusing on precious metals and gems: what jewellery was found in burials compared with what was being carved on statues of men and women in each place? 

Part I of 'Diadems Are Forever' considered the jewellery (as it happened, mostly of gold) found buried in graves excavated near Rome.  She then looked at statues of men and women from roughly the same time and place: what bijouterie was -- and was not -- pictured on their statues?  It turned out that both in reality (burials) and image (sculpture), jewellery was only associated with the female sex.  Roman men did not do bling.

In Palmyra, Do as Palmyrans Do

Now we turn to one of the farthest frontiers of Empire to compare the cultural value of jewellery at the centre with that of the periphery.  The procedure is the same: how does real jewellery found in tombs stack up against the ornaments sculpted on funerary portraits?  Are we seeing the same the norms when it comes to jewellery, or are the Palmyrans going their own way in matters of bling?

From Towers and Underground Tombs

A total of 84 pieces of real jewellery were collected from six tombs of mainly second-century CE date.  The haul included bracelets, a brooch, earrings, finger-rings (such as pictured above), a loose gem, one necklace, and several pendants.  Most objects were made of copper or silver and very few of gold.  Of course, the big problem at Palmyra is that nearly every tomb was thoroughly looted long ago, so thieves probably beat the archaeologists to most of the good stuff.

That may not be the whole story, however.

Classier finds did come from the relatively undisturbed Tomb F, excavated in the 1990's --  built by two brothers with the impossible names of BWRP and BWLH.  This tomb yielded a total of 30 pieces of jewellery, including lots of beads, finger-rings (one of gold), copper earrings, and two gold-and-glass pendants (left) ... and a strange human-shaped amulet, resembling a clothed female-like figure (13.3 cm tall; top of post).

Who had goodies in their graves?

We are obviously missing lots of jewellery and assume there would have been more glittery gold if the tombs had not been so extensively robbed.  Still, we must make do with what we have.

We have bones.

The bones of 22 skeletons in graves with jewellery could be sexed and/or age estimated: three were adult males, six adult females, and twelve were children; one burial held two adult males and a child.*  Though fewer males than females were buried with jewellery, there was clearly no prohibition on the practice (contrast the Roman study which found no  males buried with bijoux).  On the contrary, the average number of pieces buried with each sex was much the same: 3.5 pieces per adult woman vs 3.0 per adult man; the kids had less: just 1.4 pieces each.

Nonetheless, there was a distinction in the types of jewellery that men and women took with them to the grave.  Men had predominantly pendants, often of amuletic character (such as the figurine at the top of this post). Adult females were mostly buried with earrings and finger-rings, and children mostly with beads.

Reality versus Image

So that's the real deal.  But reality never interferes with how people choose to picture the dead.  It's always idealized.

In order to make a fair comparison with the Roman statues, Ms Raat sought a published Palmyran tomb that held at least 15 well-preserved female portrait busts (that is, the same number as Roman female statues), and mainly from the second century CE. Only the underground tomb of Sassan qualified: 42 individual limestone busts come from this tomb and 16 of them (38%) are female.  Working back from an inscription written in Palmyrene (a dialect of Aramaic) on the bust of two men which is dated to the year 181/182 AD, Sassan's family genealogy was established by linking up  inscriptions on funerary portraits (I am X, son of Y, son of Z -- that sort of thing). This gives the time range during which the tomb was used as ca. 80-200 CE.

Sassan's Daughters

We know something about 15 of the 16 women whose images were sculpted on the limestone busts because inscriptions give their name plus their father's name and often his father's name, and such useful patriarchal data.  Only one inscription names both parents.

The women must all have been part of the Sassan family for which the tomb was constructed. How they are exactly related is not always apparent. In one case, we can point to two women who were sisters.  We can be certain, however, that all these women belonged to the higher class: the family was affluent and important enough to found and sustain this quite large tomb.

So, how were these well-to-do fathers' daughters portrayed?  And who was meant to see them?  Ms Raat sets the scene: 

... I would call the context of the [tomb] semi-private or semi-public. In Palmyra, family members of the deceased had access to the tombs, so the busts were visible for generations to come. Only relatives or others associated with the deceased would be able to open the locks on the entrance doors of the tombs....

We thus can identify the location, the viewing context (deliberate visits to mourn, pray and perhaps worship), as well as the viewers (relatives of the deceased) of these sculptures. This must be taken into account in the interpretation of the busts....With all this in mind the deceased will have been represented in a certain way, conveying messages on his or her identity and role in society. The sculptures will have evoked a certain response from the family members.

 Now, what did these ladies look like?

Amtâ, daughter of Malkû, wife of Belšûrî, son of Sassan

Let's start with a woman named Amta, who died between 100-130 CE.  She wears a headband and a knotted turban underneath a cloak that is draped as a veil. Covering the head with a veil was fashionable in different areas of the ancient east as well as the west. She gazes straight forward, holding her veil with her right hand and, with her left hand, a spindle and distaff as proof of perfect domesticity.  As for jewellery, other than the headband, she wears a brooch, earrings shaped like a bunch of grapes, and two necklaces, both consisting of chains of round stones.

Tammâ, daughter of Sîgâ (and), daughter of Belšûrî

Tamma was buried between 100-120 CE.  She was the only woman in Sassan's tomb whose father and mother were both named on her funerary stone. She touches her chin with her right index finger. Her other hand holds spindle and distaff. She wears a broad, rather plain headband and a twisted turban below a veil.  Her ornaments are a brooch  and bunch-of-grapes earrings.

Amtâ, daughter of Malkâl, (son of) Moqîmû

Amta was a popular name in Palmyra.  Another lady of this name died between 170-200 CE. She holds her veil with her right hand, raising it to collarbone level. Raising a hand to chin or collarbone was known in Rome as the pudicitia gesture (pointing to modesty and fidelity) and is commonly made by women in Palmyran funerary portraits -- though it might not have had the same meaning here.**  She wears a headband with floral design, a head-chain made of round stones and a knotted turban underneath a veil. As for other jewellery, she boasts a large, richly-decorated brooch, dumbbell earrings, two rings on her little finger, and two necklaces, the first a simple choker with a flower-like pendant, and the second a chain of stones.

Malkat, daugther of Oggâ, son of Sassan

Malkat died between 150-170 CE.  She holds her veil with her right hand, raising it to collarbone level, and in her left hand loosely grasps a spindle and distaff. She wears a floral-design headband, a head-chain made of round stones and a knotted turban underneath a veil.  The jewellery displayed includes a brooch, dumbbell earrings, and a necklace of stones with an oval pendant, which itself has three smaller pendants.

Bîlat, daughter of Elahbel

Big-eyed Bilat was buried between 140-170 CE.  She holds her veil with her right hand, raising it to collarbone level, and holds in the other a spindle and distaff. She wears a headband with floral design and a knotted and twisted turban below a veil.  Her jewels are an animal-headed brooch, earrings shaped like a bunch of grapes, and a ring on the little finger of her left hand.

We needn't go on.  You get the idea. 

If you've got it, flaunt it.

Female jewellery is meant to be seen and its reproduction on funerary portraits is clearly considered seemly. The total amount of separate pieces of jewellery pictured on the 16 busts (earrings counted per pair) adds up to 75 objects. On average 4.7 pieces of jewellery are displayed per portrait and ranges from two to ten pieces per bust.  No woman wore less than two items (the minimum was a brooch and headband).  In short, all of the ladies wore jewellery. 

It is difficult to determine the kind of material the sculpted jewellery was intended to represent. A necklace made up of a chain of stones is often described as a ‘pearl necklace’, but most sculptures in Palmyra were painted, though few traces of colours survive.

Those colours would have told whoever was looking at them what the jewellery was meant to be: gold would be shown by yellow paint, silver by white paint, gems by their 'natural' colours. We can be sure that yellow paint imitated gold because the 'Beauty of Palmyra' (below), for example, retains both traces of gold leaf as well as yellow paint. Recent microscopic photography has revealed red paint invisible to the naked eye (above, left) on the bust of Haliphat, daughter of Oglata, son of Harimai, now in the Smithsonian -- that might have indicated rubies along with some kind of red inlay.

But boys will be boys

Male funerary busts, whether in Sassan's tomb or anywhere else in Palmyra tombs are never pictured wearing any jewellery except occasional finger-rings or cloak fasteners (fibulae). Thus, the difference between men and women regarding jewellery representations is a strict matter of gender.  Which is interesting when you think that some men were nonetheless buried with jewellery -- even if the limestone portraits that closed their graves did not show it!

In the Roman part of this study, all graves with jewellery were female graves, and, as it turned out, only with a specific category of deceased: young unmarried women.  Even so, in both regions, it was uncommon to bury the dead with jewellery.  Just a quarter of the graves in the unlooted Tomb C held any jewellery at all . Moreover, in the grave of the founder of the Tomb (YRHY, son of LSMS, son of MLKW -- if you must know) no jewellery or grave goods of any kind were found, even though his tomb was undisturbed.

This is an important outcome, because it points to jewellery not being a general status marker of the deceased person. Not even in wealthier circles of society there was a habit to give jewellery with the deceased into the grave, neither as a remembrance of the status and wealth of the persons during life, nor as an act of conspicuous consumption by rich families during burial rituals.

When in Palmyra....

The 'Beauty of Palmyra'

And yet, not a single dead woman was pictured without at least two pieces of jewellery -- and some wore lots more.  In some tombs, the jewellery displays were simply dazzling (left).  

This adornment with jewellery, combined with feminine gestures and attributes (e.g. spindle and distaff),  expressed what was considered the Palmyran female ideal.  Differences in the amount of jewellery displayed on female portrait busts surely reflected the social status of the city's elite as well as the actual wealth of the women and their families during life.

When in Rome...

The enormous display of jewellery visible on the Palmyran busts was unimaginable in Rome: there, the general absence of jewellery on statues of women counts. Displaying jewellery contradicted the feminine virtues and challenged the prevailing female ideals. In Roman society, sculptures without jewellery were representations of that feminine ideal.  Opulent displays like those in Palmyra would have been shocking, an indication of loose morals -- or worse!  Only diadems (and earrings) were allowed on Roman female statues: since diadems were connected with the religious sphere, this must have made it an acceptable adornment.

A Girl's Best Friend

The results on the jewellery finds and how jewellery was pictured on statues from Rome and Palmyra show that we are not dealing with a dominant centre that set the standards to which all the provinces conformed.  The relationship is not that direct: there is more an overlap in the material visible, pointing to a layer-cake-like process taking place.  When it comes to the way they handled jewellery, Rome and Palmyra followed their own traditions and practices.

In short, as Ms Raad concludes, "The sculptures demonstrate that different ideals prevailed in Rome and Palmyra."



*  Two of the males were aged between 20-39 years old, two between 40-59 years old, and one was older than 60 years.  One female was between 40-59 years old when she died, one around eighteen years old, and two could only be classified as 'middle-aged' and another one as 'young'.  For the children, gender could not be determined but two were under a year and two were 5-7 years old.

** On the pudicitia and other female gestures, see Zenobia's post on  The Secret Language of Palmyra

Illustrations

All are taken from Andrea Raat's Master's thesis with the exception of the 'Beauty of Palmyra' (ca. 190-210 CE) from Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek and the microscopic photograph made by the Smithsonian of the necklace worn by Haliphat, daughter of Oglata, son of Harimai (died 231 CE).
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