Roman Dining

When Mercurio throws a banquet in my novella, Devouring Light, his guests dine Roman style.

I’d always envisioned the ancient Romans as reclining while dining, propped up on couches with low tripod tables at their elbows. But when it was time for me to write the feast scene, I needed details. So I dove into research!

And discovered that my vision was somewhat mistaken!

The video below is what I’d imagined.

Certainly there are museums with replicas that look somewhat like that. One even features the individual tables I’d envisioned. While that may be accurate for meals with three people only, the scene looked rather different when more people were gathered.

Before we go further, let’s note two terms.

A klinē is a sort of slanting couch, with the foot ten degrees lower than its head.

A triclinium, the ancient Roman dining room, meant “three klinai” or “three couches.”

The houses of the ancient Romans usually had at least two triclinia. Elite households might feature four in a triclinium maius .

Triclinium, Museo de Zaragoza

But, here’s the thing that confused me.

The ancient Romans commonly invited between nine and twenty guests to their feasts.

How on earth would they squish three reclining diners on each of those narrow couches? They would have to sit, not recline. And I knew they didn’t. Or I thought they didn’t.

Once I’d located some more scholarly works, I discovered there was more variation among Roman dining styles than I’d supposed. Specifically, the ancient Romans were people with individual habits, just as you and I have our own idiosyncrasies.

Sure, the reclining habit was a mark of status. Undoubtedly, most eaters started off that way, just to show they could.

“Yes, I’m rich and privileged. See!”

But what about the child who couldn’t lie still? Or the lady with a bad back? Or the senator with a dyspeptic stomach?

Well, the likelihood that people shifted their position a fair bit while eating was only common sense.

But it still didn’t explain how they fit three reclining diners on those couches.

Finally I found another visual, and it all made sense.

Aha! The head of the couch pointed toward the table, and the foot of the couch pointed away. Those klinai for three people were much bigger than those for a solo diner.

I couldn’t find an image in the pubic domain that I am free to post here. But check this link, if you want to see the visual for yourself.

Mercurio gives each of his guests a unique klinē garnished with flowers, rather than grouping them on shared couches. The major “celestials” in Devouring Light happen to number eighteen, perfect to exactly fill two triclinia. How convenient!

This was Mercurio’s seating plan for them until . . . he realized he needed to accommodate an unexpected guest!

Mercurio's seating plan

For more about the world of Devouring Light, see:
The Celestial Spheres of Sol
What Do Celestials Wear?
The Graces
The Heliosphere
The Oort Cloud
Mercury the Planet
Draco the Dragon
The Simiae

 

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The Graces

The Three GracesMy newest work, Devouring Light, will release soon. I’m excited! Eager to make the story available for readers!

To tide myself over until the release – and because I can’t resist – I’m sharing some of the tidbits I’ve learned while doing research for the book.

This week, I’m talking about the Graces of ancient Greece.

And why am I presenting the Graces? Because they were the archetypes I drew on when dreaming up Lixy’s handmaidens.

“Who is Lixy?” you ask.

The beautiful celestial wanderer who fetches up at the domicile of Mercurio, my protagonist. Lixy is lovely, mysterious, and utterly lost – both in memory and in space. She doesn’t know who she is or where she came from. Quite the intriguing puzzle for Mercurio, who gives her shelter.

Lixy does remember her handmaidens, especially Eupheme, her nurse when Lixy was young.

So what about the Graces?

They were female spirits personifying the feminine attributes of grace. The most famous, the “Three Graces,” were Splendor (Aglaea), Mirth (Euphrosyne), and Good Cheer (Thalia).

But there were also “lesser” Graces. These were the ones who caught my attention. So who were they?

Philophrosyne personified welcome, friendliness, and kindness. Her name means “friendly-minded,” and I envision her as a spirit of hospitality. She became a cupbearer in Lixy’s home star system. Cupbearers in ancient times were particularly honored, since they ensured that the food and drink of a ruler was pure and unpoisoned. Hebe and Ganymede, cupbearers in Greek mythology, took that role in the solar system (ours) where Devouring Light takes place.

Eupheme personified words of good omen, praise, acclaim, shouts of triumph, and applause. Wow! She sure appealed to me! And I could see why Lixy remembered her. Who wouldn’t remember the person who steadfastly offered genuine and enthusiastic praise? Her name means “well-spoken,” and she was nursemaid to the Muses of Greek Mythology. It seemed appropriate that my Eupheme served as Lixy’s childhood nurse.

Euthenia personified prosperity, abundance, and plenty. Her name means “well-being.” Like her sisters, she was believed to be the daughter of Hephaestus and Aglaea. I envision the Euthenia of Devouring Light as possessing healing skills.

Eucleia personified glory and good repute. In Greek mythology, she served as Aphrodite’s handmaiden and was also associated with Artemis. She represented the loveliness of the bride approaching her wedding. I imagine the Eucleia of my story as modeling and encouraging integrity in Lixy. Her name means “renowned” or “celebrated.”

I’m almost tempted to write a story in which these four Graces get some “stage time,” rather than serving as a part of Lixy’s background!

For more about the world of Devouring Light, see:
The Celestial Spheres of Sol
What Do Celestials Wear?
Roman Dining
The Heliosphere
The Oort Cloud
Mercury the Planet
Draco the Dragon
The Simiae

 

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Last Tide

This feels like a good week for a story opening. It follows!

Kelp Forrest at Anacapa Island

One minute it was hot terror and noise – the creature’s roaring – and the sick sweet smell of blood.

The next, James thrust her through the portal into water and the strange rippling quiet of water-plugged ears. She’d swallowed the small of mouthful of bitter brine forced through her lips in the abrupt transition and kicked out, grateful for the lungful of air she’d brought with her.

Sunlight filtered down through cool turquoise liquid and fronds waving from the vast columns of a kelp forest. The slippery brush of fish tickled her shoulders as she stroked forward through a school of goatfins.

She was counting: two massive pillars of leafy green on the right, bend around one on the left, then another straight ahead. Her lungs were starting to ache. I can do this, she reminded herself. I’ve done it before.

One breath was enough.

Enough for her, that is. Sam could swim; liked to swim. But there was a reason beyond the inconvenience of getting wet on their way to the dig that her cohort of XT archaeologists took the longer route through three portals to get to Eridani Four.

She kicked around the last column of kelp and angled downward, down along a coral bluff toward the cave that . . . wasn’t there. Shit!

She drifted one heartbeat in stunned amazement, then curled to let her feet swing around and push off the rough cliff face, propelling her back the way she’d come.

Jesu-Yosef-Marie! How could it be gone?

And how could she be swimming back toward the cavern she’d just left? The others would be gone. James too. Before her head followed the rest of her through the water portal, she’d seen him scramble under the creature’s rusty fangs, snatching Nonsin from the rocky floor as he dove for the other portal.

But she needed air. Even she couldn’t go for much more than half a minute.

She stroked steadily, ignoring the growing ache in her lungs, counting again. One straight ahead, one on her right, two on her left. Shit!

Shit, shit, shit!

The bluff on this side of the underwater ravine . . . wasn’t. No bluff, no hollow in the coral, no portal. The ache in her lungs shaded into pain. Cristos! In another heartbeat she’d gulp water, convinced it was air, anything to feed her screaming need to breathe.

She kicked again. I won’t breathe. I’ll swim. And swim and swim. Her eyes began to burn from the salt. Or was she crying? How could you tell underwater?

Pull, kick, glide. She could hear her old swim teacher in her head. “Glide, Samantha, glide!”

A shadow darkened the water around her.

What?

She looked up. Blessed Marie, yes! An outcropping of coral loomed over her with a dimple on its belly and a swirl of rainbow dust in the dimple: a portal. An unmapped one.

She kicked upward frantically, fighting her body’s imperative to inhale.

Just. One. More. Kick.

And she was through. But where? And into what?

* * *

For more science fiction samples, see:
Dragon’s Tooth
Dream Trap

For a fantasy sample, see:
The Green Knight

 

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Skies of Navarys in Paper!

Get it, because you like full bookshelves. Get it, because you enjoy a stylish book on your coffee table. Get it to read. Get it to give as a gift. (Grin!) The trade paperback edition of Skies of Navarys is here!

Navarys paperback photo 3844

Two friends. Two ways of approaching life. One dilemma.

Liliyah studies energea as all thirteen-year-olds in Navarys do, devoting her mornings to mastering the music that controls her magic. Afternoons, she hobnobs with the artisan crafters and shopkeepers who built the island city-state into the trade capital of the world.

Her friend Mago faces struggles unsuspected by carefree Liliyah. His father, a renowned inventor, succombs to irrational flashes of rage. His mother holds a lethal secret close.

When a royal geomancer announces that the goddess Evaia shrugs, every citizen on the island springs to action. Disaster waits on no one’s leisure! Amidst the uproar, the aeromancer Palujon steals Mago’s father’s latest invention: unique lodestones with the potential to revolutionize life as the Navareans know it.

Mago discovers the theft and vows to make good his father’s loss. But Liliyah questions Palujon’s motives. Why would a man of his stature break the law? Is he truly a rogue?

Two friends. Two answers. Life and death hang on their choices.

Here are the “stats” for the trade paperback:

5″x 8″ trim size • 116 pages
ISBN-10: 0615880320
ISBN-13: 978-0615880327
Amazon.com I Amazon UK I B&N I CreateSpace

Skies of Navarys is also available as an ebook in electronic bookstores.
Amazon.com I Amazon UK
B&N I Diesel I iTunes I Kobo I Smashwords I Sony

 

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What Do Celestials Wear?

Planet EarthThe characters in my soon-to-release Devouring Light are celestial beings charged with the guardianship of heavenly bodies.

Some of them share a name with a Greek or a Roman god. Thus Ares protects the planet Mars. Artemis Diana cares for Earth’s moon. While Gaia watches over Earth itself.

Other celestials bear unique names. My protagonist, Mercurio Veloxus Ludificor, tends the planet Mercury.

All of the celestials wear the garb of the ancient Romans and the ancient Greeks.

Everyone knows what a toga is. (Or thinks he does! 😉 ) But what about the peplos? Or the strophium? I had to research the topic in order to describe Mercurio’s garments accurately—when he’s striping them off after a long, hard day! As well as those of Lixy, his unexpected visitor.

Of course, I’m going to share what I learned! Let’s take it garment by garment.

The Princess AlexandraThe Tunica

The tunica is your basic undergarment, often worn under another tunic or peplos. It usually hangs to the knees, but sometimes falls to mid-calf, or even the ankles. Children typically wear only a tunica at home, but don an outer garment in which to go out. Adults prefer more layers.

The tunica is a rectangular garment sewn into a tube. Pins (fibulae) or buttons secure the shoulders when it is worn solo. A sewn seam is more usual when it is worn beneath other clothing.

The Strophium

Another undergarment: the breast band. It’s a long, narrow strip of cloth bound tightly around the chest to support a woman’s bosom.

Obviously, Mercurio does not wear one of these. But Lixy does, as do Juno and Star and other female celestials.

Spoiler: As it turned out, I never did mention the strophium in Devouring Light. So often we writers do the research and only a tiny bit makes it onto the page. But we need to know.

The Subligaculum

This word was too long, with too many syllables, for me to use it in Devouring Light. Yes, I did need to refer to it in the course of my story! But I called it a “loin brief,” because that’s what it covers: the loins.

The subligacula of the ancient Romans took the form of either shorts or a cloth wrapped around the loins. It was a standard part of the dress for active folk like soldiers, gladiators, and athletes. Sometimes it was made of leather.

ArtemisThe Peplos

Reading about the peplos was an aha! moment for me. So that’s why those ancient Greek statues look the way they do! Ha!

So what’s the trick?

The peplos is essentially a long tunic, worn by women, that stretches from shoulder to ankle. Like a tunica, it’s sewn along the sides to make a tube. But it’s so long that the top third is folded over and drapes to the waist. That’s what makes that blousey over garment on all the statuary.

A sash or belt gathers the peplos at the waist.

Pins or buttons secure the fold at the top over the shoulders. And there you have it: the peplos.

The Tunica

This is where the garb of the ancients gets confusing. Because while the tunica is the basic undergarment, it can also serve as outer wear for children and for men.

Thus Mercurio might wear a short tunica next to his skin, with a longer tunica over it. Especially when he wants to be most formally dressed!

So is the tunica underwear? Or is it a formal robe? Only context makes this clear!

Statue of LibertyThe Stola

The stola is a woman’s version of the men’s toga, but it’s a lot more convenient!

It’s a long, pleated linen dress – generally sleeveless; sometimes sleeved – worn as an outer garment.

Clasps secure the shoulders. Two belts confine the garment to the torso: one immediately below the breasts, the other at the waist. The belts create many folds and layers. The more layers, the higher the woman’s status.

The Toga

The toga is the outer garment for males, worn both for warmth (in cool weather) and for propriety when leaving the home. Going without, in ancient Rome, would have been shocking. Not quite so shocking for my celestials.

Being a casual guy, Mercurio doffs his when he can get away with it, because the thing is so unweildy!

Togas are huge! And heavy! Made of a rectangular piece of wool, they measure 20 feet in length, and were wrapped around the body, under the right arm, and over the left shoulder.

Pure white togas dignify ceremonial occasions, but my celestials wear them in all hues.

For more about the world of Devouring Light, see:
The Celestial Spheres of Sol
The Graces
Roman Dining
The Heliosphere
The Oort Cloud
Mercury the Planet
Draco the Dragon
The Simiae

 

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