The Roman Empire Strikes Back, or shall we say, I am your sister, rising for women.

Oh, the sheer irony of it all! Here I was, in picturesque Bath, England, innocently capturing a snapshot of a statue whimsically named the “Spirit of Rome.” Little did I know that across the pond, the New York Times was busily engaging in a riveting discussion about how frequently the male population thinks about the glory days of ancient Rome on their favorite social media platforms. Yes, ancient Rome—the subject of many a late-night contemplation, I’m sure. (“The Roman Empire Strikes Back, for Men: [Style Desk].” New York Times, Sep 24 2023

So, upon my triumphant return home, I delved into this intellectual discourse on Rome and couldn’t help but ponder my own motivations. What did it mean that I had seized the opportunity to immortalize the “Spirit of Rome” on camera? Was I subconsciously revealing my latent aspirations for togas and Cicero, or was it merely a fluke in my touristy photographic escapades?

But wait, there’s more! Bath, in all its genteel splendor, had another trick up its Roman sleeve – an audio commentary by none other than the illustrious travel writer, Bill Bryson. Now, as a hiking enthusiast who once had the sheer joy of being almost ejected from a couch due to fits of laughter while reading A Walk in the Woods, I couldn’t have been more thrilled. I mean, what could possibly top Bryson’s clever commentary on a location as steeped in history as the Roman Baths? The thought of whether men are truly captivated by the Romans didn’t even register on my radar. (Meanwhile, there were already over 2000 posts on the subject).

Bryson’s comments on the Baths were a delicious concoction of the “official” narrative and his signature irreverence. Among the numerous comedic gems, he decided to shine a spotlight on the temple’s dedication to the Roman goddess Minerva. There, in all its glory, was a somewhat unsettling sculpture of Minerva’s head, displayed on the premises. And in true Bryson style, he just had to quip about how the male heads were far less intimidating than their female counterparts. Oh, the horror!

He went on to express his less-than-enthusiastic desire to meet Minerva herself, thanks to the eerie aura he associated with her. However, my own response was more measured, as I recognized Minerva for her qualities as a goddess of wisdom, courage, and strategic warfare. Beauty was not her claim to fame; her intelligence, strength, and prowess took center stage.

But that’s not all, dear reader. Bryson regaled us with a tale of visitors to the Baths seeking special favors from Minerva. These supplicants would inscribe their requests on lead sheets, fold them with great care, and ceremoniously cast them into a pool, hoping for divine intervention. The real kicker? The sheer pettiness and vindictiveness of these requests left Bryson flabbergasted. For instance, one enthusiastic individual wished that the thief of their gloves would face the wrath of the goddess and have their eyes gouged out at the temple. Minerva, the all-wise, apparently moonlighted as an ocular enforcer.

Now, in the spirit of fairness, let’s not forget the broader context. The stories and knowledge of ancient Rome, including Minerva’s reputation, were often presented through the lens of the privileged elite—primarily men. Women in ancient Rome? Well, their worth was often reduced to their relationships with fathers and husbands. They were usually married off in their teenage years and had minimal agency in political or military matters. A woman’s role in the grand scheme of things? Not significant, to say the least.

Nonetheless, there were faint glimmers of hope where women, like Minerva—okay, Minerva wasn’t real, but bear with me—found ways to assert newfound powers and rights for themselves. After all, if only Minerva were real, who knows what remarkable deeds women of that era could have achieved?

While Bill Bryson may be a bit apprehensive about encountering Minerva, when I’m cracking open beers, I find myself delving into discussions about the Roman Empire as a starting point to explore the limitless potential of women in positions of leadership. That’s precisely why, my dear reader, Rome is a constant muse for this woman’s thoughts.

Previous
Previous

Journey Through Time: Archaeological Insights from Stonehenge, the Hopewell Culture, and Camp Security

Next
Next

Out of the Pink: Barbie and the Gimmickry of a Female Presidency