To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
This brief final chapter examines Augustus’ attempts to fix his posthumous memory through his deathbed performance and his will. Suetonius and Cassius Dio report that the princeps left careful instructions for his funeral, a list of his accomplishments (the Res Gestae), and advice for future governance. On all these counts, however, audiences continued to modify the emperor’s plans and intervene in his public image. Augustus’ funeral procession, the Monumentum Ancyranum, and the object history of his bronze statue at Meroë illustrate audiences’ power over imperial signs even after the death of their author. This mirrors the co-authorial role and interpretive autonomy that subjects already enjoyed over images of the principate even during Augustus’ lifetime, as discussed throughout this study. This final chapter thereby confirms the poets’ and princeps’ shared dependence on their audiences, showing how this pivotal figure in world history remains the enduring, remarkably democratic collective creation of his subjects’ imaginations.
This chapter analyzes the Forum Augustum (2 BCE) as an ideological space that responded to and inspired literary debate about Augustus’ place within Roman history and heuristics. The Forum’s statue gallery of great Romans refigures Vergil’s parade of heroes in Aeneid 6 in monumental form. Both display an interest in mapping associated with Augustus’ expansion and administrative consolidation of Rome’s geographical empire. However, Aeneas’ exploration of Italy and descent to the Underworld also call attention to the deaths and disappointments that are omitted from official maps and monuments, encouraging readers to use interpretive autonomy in navigating imperial spaces. Ovid’s Ars Amatoria 1 does just that in remapping Augustan monumental space for private, erotic purposes. The poet’s prediction of a triumph for Gaius Caesar parodies the militaristic values espoused by the Forum Augustum and suggests developing kinship between Rome and its enemy Parthia. Yet Gaius’ early death would ironize this triumph and align him with the Marcellus and other casualties of Roman history. In charting avenues for hermeneutic invasion of the physical city, these poems question Augustus’ ability to transform Rome into a coherent urban narrative and undermine his buildings’ imperialist rhetoric.
From Augustus’ deathbed request for applause to the poets’ use of the triumph as a symbol for their glory, the Romans understood that audiences played a vital role in creating meaning, power, and fame. This introductory chapter surveys scenes of interpretation in Vergil and Ovid alongside evidence for the contexts, habits, beliefs, and educational practices informing the consumption of words and images to argue that reading during the age of Augustus was understood as an active process with political implications. The Augustan poets use their own bidirectional relationships with readers, mediated by texts, as a way to explore the mutual constitution of Augustan power, including its reliance on audiences’ use and judgment of political symbols and rituals. This chapter thus presents a bottom-up, audience-oriented model for understanding the iconography of Rome’s developing monarchy not as imperial “propaganda” but as a collectively constructed res publica (public property) in which audiences continued to exert interpretive liberty.
In this chapter’s analysis, Augustan poets’ recurring triumphal fantasies serve to explore readers’ role in sustaining imperial power. As a ceremony that communicated faraway victories to urban audiences and itself was publicized abroad, the triumph highlights the emperor’s reliance on representation to convey information and authority across Rome’s territorial expanse. Yet Vergil’s shield of Aeneas questions the accuracy and objectivity of such triumphal representations, including its own. Propertius 3.4 suggests that triumphal representations matter more than reality to audiences who, as Ovid shows his love poems, anyway appropriate them for private purposes. But it is his exile poems on imaginary triumphs (Tristia 3.12, 4.2, Ex Ponto 2.1, 3.4) that Ovid most powerfully deconstructs imperial power’s reliance on signs wholly separate from reality, at least from a provincial perspective. Together, these poems illustrate poets’ role in sustaining the emperor’s power as well as the high stakes of their interventions in his public image. They also present reading, broadly understood, as the process that unites empire, from urban audiences’ validating viewership of triumphs to provincial subjects’ imaginative participation in Roman symbols and ceremonies. These poems thus reconstitute empire as an imaginative republic of letters.
This chapter tracks the iconographical development of the Julian star (sidus Iulium) alongside the Augustan poets’ evolving, retrospective interpretations of Caesar’s deification. The symbol of the Julian star originated with a comet that appeared over Julius Caesar’s funeral games (44 BCE) and was hailed as a sign that he had joined the gods. Scholars since Servius have assumed that Caesar’s heir, the future Augustus, prompted this interpretation to advance his ambitions as the “son of a god.” Historical sources closer to the time, however, argue against the idea that Octavian ‘spun’ the comet or curated its use within Roman culture. Furthermore, coins and a constellation of allusions to the sidus in Vergil, Horace, Propertius, Ovid, and Manilius encode heterogeneous, and frequently skeptical, responses to the principate. The idea that Augustus masterminded this symbol instead originates belatedly as viewers like Ovid (in his account of Caesar’s deification in Metamorphoses 15) retrojected the emperor’s mature power onto his earlier career. The sidus thereby speaks to Romans’ difficulty in interpreting events without hindsight, their subsequent tendency to reinterpret history in conformity with a dominant narrative, and their anxieties about the future of Julian rule.
Gender and the Body in Greek and Roman Sculpture offers incisive analysis of selected works of ancient art through a critical use of cutting-edge theory from gender studies, body studies, art history and other related fields. The book raises important questions about ancient sculpture and the contrasting responses that the individual works can be shown to evoke. Rosemary Barrow gives close attention to both original context and modern experience, while directly addressing the question of continuity in gender and body issues from antiquity to the early modern period through a discussion of the sculpture of Bernini. Accessible and fully illustrated, her book features new translations of ancient sources and a glossary of Greek and Latin terms. It will be an invaluable resource and focus for debate for a wide range of readers interested in ancient art, gender and sexuality in antiquity, and art history and gender and body studies more broadly.