Round the Herne

  My reading of the first surviving chapter (Agamemnon) of Petronius's vulgar comedy 'Satyrica'. This is widely considered to be the earliest version of a novel, recounting the bawdy adventures of a former gladiator, Encolpius, and his boyfriend Giton. Much of the original work is lost which goes some way to explain why the story tends to jump about all over the place. It is written in the first person, from Encolpius' point of view, as he travels about with Giton and two friends whom he'd probably be better off without. The first few chapters are missing, so this recording picks up with Encolpius some way into his torrid life. Quite what happened earlier is open to speculation, but I assume it involves how the gladiator met Giton and some palaver in which they sowed a lot of coins into the hem of a garment (presumably to hide them) that was then stolen or lost - reappearing in this chapter. Unusually for a Classical work, the characters in the Satyrica are almost e...

Here are the links to the Virtual version of the Leaping Hare pagan convention, featuring the talents of Nick Ford, Carys, Jonathan Boddam-Whethers and myself. In theory one should play on automatically from the previous, but in case there are problems with list I have pasted each link individually below. INTRODUCTION SHEEP POEM (NICK FORD) UNDERWORLD INITIATION (DR J. B. WETHAM) CALL MY BLUFF MINI-QUIZ CARYS'S SONG (GAIA) BEAR TRIBE POEM (NICK FORD) BROTHERHOOD OF THE SHADOWS STORY EPOMEDUOS AND THE MARE ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD TALK

This afternoon I went to visit a friend whom I've known since the 1980s. She is in hospital in Essex following a fall that has resulted in broken bones, compounding a number of other medical conditions (she is elderly and vulnerable to such injuries). I remember talking to Di in earlier days about Greek and Roman religion and mythology - she is a great admirer of Pythagoras amongst others. The Ancient Roman poem Catullus wrote a hymn to the moon goddess Diana, which seems an appropriate "gift" to my friend to listen to when she gets out of hospital and maybe one Diana will intercede to help another now she is in a bad way. My Latin is very rusty, and hopefully will not cause too much distress to those friends who are more fluent in it. I'll print off a version to frame and hang on her wall at home as well. The English translation I found on line, created by Pete Crowther (I don't know anything about him but will keep an eye open for his other work now) and it ...

A short poem written in lyric metre for the fund raiser I organised the other week. It's taken two weeks to find five minutes to actually have spare in which to record it! The poem, which is really meant to be read by a woman (so you'll have to visualise that part, or imagine me without the beard) tells the story of the priestess Tarpeia who betrayed Rome int he hope of getting a ton of gold, and presumably running away from the Temple of Vesta to start a new life - she could hardly stay, had her plan worked. The Sabines, to whom she had betrayed Rome, almost got into the city but were stopped by the god Janus who scalded them with boiling water.

This is the promised tale of Vertumnus and Pomona, the Roman deities of autumn and apple trees respectively, and featuring the tale-within-the-tale of the gentle Iphis and the haughty Anaxarete. As the story suggests, it is never wise to annoy Venus - as Hippolytus learned with Aphrodite, there are some goddesses who refuse to take no for an answer.

In Ancient Rome, the festival of Lupercalia was held on February 15th. In legend the twin-founders of the city, Romulus and Remus, were thrown into the River Tiber on the orders of their usurping great-uncle Amulius. The babies washed ashore by a wild fig tree, and were found by a she-wolf, who suckled them and raised them with her mate. Years later they were found, living feral, by the shepherd Faustulus and his wife Acca Larentia who took them in. Upon reaching adulthood they discovered their true identities, and set out to avenge themselves on their wicked great-uncle. Having killed him, they founded the Eternal City. Once restored to their regal position, the brothers rediscovered the den and called it the Lupercal (the wolves cave.) It became a sacred site along with the remains of the shepherd's hut. The Lupercalia ritual in Rome was held in the cave itself. Similar rituals held in other parts of the Empire had to use venues symbolic of the cave on Mount Aventine. Two...

The autumn equinox is almost upon us, which has significance for several pagan traditions - though strangely very few ancient myths directly associated with it. From a secular viewpoint, it was the date on which the French abolished their monarchy and became a republic in 1792. I am not a republican myself (world politics is not currently enthusing me as to the joys of following such a political route), but do know of one pagan myth - or legend, at least (inasmuch as it depicts a purportedly historical event with no reference to magical or mystical goings on) - about how a much older civilisation became a republic. This is the tragic tale of Lucretia, a Roman matron subjected to horrible treatment by the lecherous son of King Tarquin. I rarely tell historical tales, so this is not particularly well told. The events accounted for the Roman historians do not take place at the equinox, so the only tenuous connection to this time of year is republicanism. The response she takes to the ...

On Tuesday 16th May the Religious Studies & Ethics department have organised their annual conference, at which I will be one of the speakers (talking about Roman and Greek notions of sexuality). The theme for this year is Gender & Sexuality. It is a free event - contact me at robin.herne@wsc.ac.uk if you wish to attend. The programme of speakers is as follows: 10.00                Welcome and introduction to the day 10.15                Are there Only Two Sexes?; John Hadlow 11.00                Same Sex Marriage in Liberal Christianity; Reverend Matthew Smith 11.45                The Caring Sex?; Dr Will Thomas 12.30            ...

Today is the festival of Lupercalia, time of the wolf gods, when Ancient Romans engaged in ceremonies so old and mysterious that even they were unsure what half of it was about. Two priestly bodies, made up of wealthy young men, gathered in a cave - the Lupercal - to take part in secretive rites that involved the sacrifice of a puppy and a goat. The latter was skinned; the meat probably eaten, whilst the hide was cut into strips. The nearly naked priests ran round the Seven Hills, beating the bounds. Young married women wanting to become pregnant would line the streets hoping to get get thwacked with a goatskin thing (which would have been very soft, and probably still dripping blood and gobbets of fat!) Lupercalia is still celebrated by some modern pagans, though in much more sedate ways these days. For some it is a way of honouring the She Wolf Lupa, foster mother of the abandoned twins, and the Roman Way in general. For others the focus is on wolves themselves as an endangered spec...

Whilst exploring Sicily we went to the cemetery at Pozzallo to lay flowers for relatives. I had just assumed it would look rather like a British cemetery, and was intrigued to find out that it was much more akin to an ancient Roman burial ground. There wasn't a patch of grass to be seen, but (in the richer areas) a whole series of mausoleums with varying degrees of elaborate detail some of which had to be seen to be believed. I'm told that some families spend more on their tombs than on their houses. These works of art are laid out in Roman grid-style, roads lined with houses for the dead, at once beautiful and boastful - declarations of the status and grandeur of both the ancestors and their survivors. Many are heavily influenced in their design by classical architecture, and given that each contain altars (with statues of the Virgin, various saints etc.) along with the names and icons of the lost generations, and receptacles for the offerings of flowers, these are each fun...

Over the summer I spent a week holidaying in Sicily - the first time I have been on a plane in about 30-ish years. My brain has been rather all over the place since getting back, and it has taken me a while to marshal my thoughts sufficiently to share the experience. There are a number of different angles I shall approach over the next few posts. We met up with many relatives and friends of Francesco, and dined out a great deal. At one particularly impressive meal I was asked to conclude the evening with a story. Only a small number of the people at table spoke any English, and I currently have only about a dozen words of Italian. So the story of Pomona and Vertumnus was conveyed by a combination of Francesco's translation of my words, a sprinkling of what little Italian I do know, and even more body language than usual. Edward Sapir claimed that language shapes thought (a concept now known as linguistic relativity)- people thinking in Dutch will do so very differently from someo...

Life is going remarkably well for me, the silence on this site owing more to lack of time born of general business than lack of things to talk about. To celebrate the midwinter solstice, a poetic offering of a sort - a pastiche of a well-known American children's poem. How the Grouch Stole Mithras should not be taken too seriously (clearly), but might put a smile or two on a few faces. This poem first appeared in my book Bard Song.

Today was The IPC's open day, intended to have the dual purpose of raising a positive profile of paganism amongst the wider community and of providing people new to paganism (and pagans new to the area) a road in to the local community. The same people who invariably volunteer to help run the kitchen and help out did so once again ~ where would we be without them? The mayor and his consort turned up and spent an hour with us, asking loads of questions and expressing a genuine interest in what was going on. This has always been an important function of Heritage Day ~ establishing our presence within the wider community, that we are part of civic life rather than a bunch of eccentrics in our own isolated bubbles. This year we changed the format, stepping down the size and number of the static stalls and displays and introducing discussing panels themed around topics that we hoped would be of relevance. The idea was to make it more like a mini-convention and so draw in pagans from n...