Meggie Macdonald

Babylon:  Myth and Reality is on at the British Museum, London, from 13 November 2008 until 15 March 2009.

As always, the British Museum has the knack for bringing history into a context where its present-day value can be gaged more readily, and without the usual strain that many historians and essayists force upon that connection.

I found, aesthetically, that the show was well lit and laid out, allowing visitors to traverse the exhibit with relatively ease (despite the crowds) and to view the artifacts, artworks and other aspects of the exhibit in a freeform manner (to a certain extent, anyway).  I am always appreciative of any museum that includes panoramic glass display cases, since I have always wanted to look at an artifact around 360 degrees, particularly if I can’t hold it in my hands too.  This allows audiences to view the work from more than one angle and in more than one place within the exhibit, adding a more visceral visual experience for the visitor.

In terms of the content of the exhibit, the combination of artifacts, ancient and modern art, Medieval and Renaissance manuscripts, among others, was precisely what I was expecting.  This combination highlighed the uniqueness of the ancient artifacts and gave the visitor a visual experience of the city that, for all intents and purposes, has practically no visual remains.  And yet, this lack is irrelevant, since the concept of Babylon transcends any archaeological site and instead sits patiently in the mindset of the western world.  The inclusion of the table of the first map of the world and William Blake’s Nebuchadnezzar in particular were powerful elements:  the former because of its surprisingly awesome place in world history, and the latter because of its powerful if regluar evocation of ancient Babylon.

I did find, on occasion, that the modern art works seemed to clump together, apart from the ancient artifacts and thus dimished from the correlation between them.  This, however, may have been a product of space limiations and variety of modern art versus ancient artifacts.  And yet, it was only a minor sense of aesthetic and experiential weakness of the exhibit.

I would recommend this show for anyone looking to spend an hour staring at something completely different, for those who are fascinated by Ancient Mesopotamia and Babylon, and for those looking for a connection between the old world and the new, spanning time, space, and reality – for anyone looking for something and feels that they might find it here.

Review of “Following Hadrian” by Elizabeth Speller (Review, 2002)

An effective fusion of non-fiction analysis and fictitious primary sources, this book powerfully laments the end of a golden age of empire even before the textual death of its star.  As the author takes the readers through the latter years of the reign of the Roman emperor Hadrian, we feel the press of impending loss as the Roman empire prepares for the collapse of an era of peace, drama, and ostentation.  It is not until the middle of the book that Hadrian’s famous lover, Antinoös, loses his life in a mysterious accident, thus precipitating the slow painful downfall of one of the most prolific empire-builders in Roman history.  However, that hinge upon which the rest of the book rests like a blanket is a powerful reminder of the vividness of the lives under discussion.

Elizabeth Speller emphasizes the real lives lived even further by including, quite originally I feel, fictional excerpts from the diary of an eye-witness to the end of the emperor’s reign, Julia Balbilla – descended from the royal family of Commagene, all well-educated and aristocratic companion for the emperor’s neglected wife, Sabina.  Julia’s diary describes what is unknowable about the ancient world – the personal thoughts of an aristocratic woman.  Her observations and opinions colour the complexities of the traveling court that followed Hadrian throughout his endless touring of his empire.

Beginning from the emperor’s entrance into Egypt from Pelusium and continuing on through his visit there, the first section of the book deals with Hadrian’s excellence as a leader and the ability with which he commanded the vast geography of the Roman Empire in the second century AD/CE.  Speller describes, with the care of an ancient historian – always mindful to include reference to the morality and the personalities of the people involved, the value of the tour of Egypt, what the court bore witness to as tourists and as imperial subjects, and she hypothesizes as to the inner workings of the emperor’s mind.  We the readers are introduced to the complexities of ruling an empire and the tireless other philanthropic activities that Hadrian threw himself into.

It is upon the death of the “emperor’s favourite”, Antinoös the Bythinian, that Speller introduces another side to Hadrian – a more cautious and uncertain man instead of a powerful master of the world – that seems to dominate the rest of his reign.

Moving from Egypt to Greece, Hadrian and his court appear to experience a renaissance of the golden age of Empire and we see Hadrian restored to the world that he loves so much.  For the emperor, Greece is the world that makes sense and that also understands him and he lavishes his love upon it as if it had no end.  The newly created cult of the deified Antinoös is received well and Hadrian throws himself into other massive construction works.  He restores and rejuvenates the temple of Olympian Zeus at Athens, including colossal statues of himself (another example of how his power is emphasized to his subjects).  He rebuilds a new section of the city that adds to the glory of Athens as a whole.  Speller notes that Hadrian provides them with a restoration of the ideals of the empire they could have been.

However, after the death of Antinoös (and even to a certain extent before that section in the text), Elizabeth Speller seems to be mourning a dead king before he is dead (in her book, at least).  I found this a distracting aspect of her writing even though I share her sympathies for this enigmatic Roman emperor.  She does not seem to give this sympathy direction, however, and the book concludes after an elongated reexamination of the arguments made in previous chapters.  She seems to want to emphasize her lament in this manner, but the way the book trails off as a result detracts from the work that she was trying to produce.

Overall, I found Following Hadrian a unique fusion of fiction and history that addressed a figure from the past I have recently become reacquainted with and interested in.  However, despite the author’s numerous academic accolades, the conclusion seems amateurish and thus weak.  I would have happily concluded the book 60 pages or so from the end and considered it a solid piece of writing.

I do recommend this book for those looking for something completely different, but not a respite from the normal pace of history books, as it brings to light the human side of a Roman emperor in a way that exudes concern for the life that was lived so very long ago.

Having recently finished reading the above book by the current mayor of London, this reviewer found themselves rather surprised by it.  Admittedly it is not so much about the history of Rome and how, as an empire, it still enthralls the imagination of the western world.  It is more a dissertation on what worked in that political system of the ancient world, how society was able to find within itself a strong connection despite the massive geography of the empire and the widely varying cultural and ethnic origins of its people.

Mr Johnson directs this analysis at the European Union, commenting on what it does that is similar to the functions of the Roman Empire (minting a standard set of coins, for example), and what it lacks that limits the coherence with which the EU is trying to assert itself.  In the modern age, there can be no Cult of the Emperor or any other state religion, since (apart from anything else) so many European countries have revolutions separating church and state and because few of those countries share unambiguously a common belief structure.  There is nothing that unites the people of Europe into believing that the EU is the best thing for everyone.  Ironically, not even the current economic crisis affecting much (if not all) of the world has done this.  The nations of Europe are still too nationalistic.

Mr Johnson believes that it is the ‘dream of Rome’, the hope that one day Europe can return to a state of cohesion and solidarity, that drives the European Union and that, until we are able to find something to unite us without question, there will be no stability, no safety, no unity, and no tolerance.  The example that he closes the book with, of the violent murder of a nun as a result of the words of a politician (in this case, the Pope) strikes a cord to emphasize this lack of tolerance – something the Roman empire never had much trouble with apart from occasional radical sects that resisted the unifying actions of empire.

This reviewer was astonished to:  first, find herself reading a book by the Mayor of London; and second, to be appreciating his tactics.  Mr Johnson is clearly enthusiastic about Roman history and about learning in general, but he also sees the parallels that history provides us to seek a newer and brighter future.  This, I believe, is a part of his manifesto towards furthering the development.  For that, I am appreciative.