Of Time and the City

Of Time and the City is about a journey- it is not a conventional journey from a start point to an end point- but a journey from birth to death and yet a journey that's circular, that pivots around a series of points- religion, personality, politics, childhood, adulthood and last of all, Liverpool. You cannot separate this film from its director, Terence Davies, Catholic, Homosexual and Liverpudlian nor can you separate the man, lonely in the immensity of the darkness surrounding his voice, lonely in the midst of the images of Liverpool, from his context, from his history. In that sense- this is a repetition- in the best way that art can repeat of the point that Borges made in Pierre Menard- that we are all trapped in our times, trapped in our bodily form, trapped ultimately in history.

Making that impression count, making it work means showing us the history. The most spectacular thing about this film is that it uses a stock of old black and white images of Liverpool- this is worth buying on DVD just to see those images of the Liverpool of the fifties and the sixties- the old streets going down almost vertically, lines of houses marching in parade, the front door steps of working class houses shining in the sun, the docks, the factories. It is a film about the story of Liverpool as much as it is about the state of Liverpool- Davies repeats across the soundtrack the words of Shelley on Ozymandias- the lone and level sands stretching far away for him are the passing steam trains roaring into tunnels. The civic Ozymandii stand at the town hall- their domain Victorian industrialism, their downfall the story of Liverpool since the days when it was the crucial point in a system of commerce binding together the north and the south, the west and the east.

Politics overlays this film in another way too- for if you cannot escape the history of Britain over the last fifty years- from war and coronation to war and Coronation Street- then you cannot escape a more profound story. Across the face of the film come images of a past that the West will never escape- the image of the Cross, that Constantine saw upon the Milvian Bridge and that ever since has dominated Western politics and conscience. This is a film about Catholicism- not only about its pull on the conscience- Davies is quite clear about his own process of atheising- but about its pull on the imagination. For Davies in his historicity is a Catholic- he may be an atheist but he is a Catholic atheist. For him the waters of Babylon are the reminders of loss, the drinkers in the bar of a hotel remind him of the Mesopotamian revellers who disgusted the ancient Israelites and the power of the church remains as architecturally present in this film as any other power. The Church, the building and the faith, dominates his imagination just as it dominates the imagination of any sentient Westerner- we cannot avoid or evade it, we may not live in a society of Christian faith, but we live in a society immersed in the even longer and more important though less eschatological story of Christian history.

History of course is both civic and patriotic- as we are discovering with Livy- but it is also personal. For Davies- like for Guy Maddin in My Winnipeg (a film that this is similar too) our pasts are our presents. For Davies his life coils around the city of Liverpool- it runs through and in and out but it is always present there- but the Liverpool his life is influenced by is both a real place and an imagined place. He shows us at one point images of the present Liverpool- of scummy council houses and graffiti- of the British ability to turn the heights of display into images of disappointment and signs of the dismal. The film has a cutting social edge- Davies reminds us the poor have no time and the rich have the time to make other people spend their time. Betty and Phil (the Queen and her husband) are shown strolling up and waving demurely at the people- and counter posed with pensioners who can hardly find the money to afford a cup of tea and a cold piece of toast.

We must not lose sight though of the personal- for Davies's point is more interesting than most- it has to do with the difference between contemplation and experience (a difference that C.S. Lewis usefully borrowed from Alexander in the 1930s). The point that Davies makes is that we live through our childhood and then we contemplate about it for the rest of our lives- we become an endless curl of contemplation, an endless return. Nirvana in this sense is in our self forgetting. "Is sleep death?" he asks- not so much for an answer but for a reminder that both share the same quality- in both moments we might imagine absolute contemplation (which could well be absolute nothing) fused with absolute inaction. From childhood to adulthood to the dream world where we ourselves dissolve into our thoughts.

I have rhapsodised on some of Davies's themes- he doesn't make all these points in the same way as I have- but his form is an essay and I feel entitled to run with some of his ideas and see what use I can make of them. His form is an essay I say- it is an essay running through a film- using music and image to suggest and amplify and even define a point. His voice, a soft formal presence, is also there- alone save for a couple of moments (one where Round the Horn comes on) it takes us through the streets of Liverpool. Some people say the voice is sarcastic- I don't think it is, rather I think it is a sad voice- sad not so much that the world is worse than it was but that his world is worse than it was. He has made the transition from youth to age, from the toddlers so wonderfully captured on film (there is one priceless moment where a little girl steps forward, decides to step backwards and then runs to tell her mother of the achievement) to the dignified pensioners also there, with their craggy scouse features, bent on the doorsteps of the industrial remnant of their town.

This is an excellent film- and I have not done it justice- it is beguiling and its imagery is wonderful. Basically an old man's memories, it captures your attention with a wit I have not described fully (tu es petrus does indeed translate as You're a brick Pete, but I'm not sure that is the current official Vatican version)- and it is profound and interesting. Watch it if you are interested in cinema- if you are interested in the history of Liverpool, watch it and I'd even say when its out on DVD buy it.

Non-combatents at Falerii

Falerii was conquered by the Romans shortly before the Gallic invasion which concludes Livy's story. Its conquest though is worth pausing over for a minute because it gives us an idea of what Livy (and his audience) thought were the laws of war. Falerii was surrounded by Camillus. Having been surrounded, we are then told by Livy that a school master to the senior men of the town took his charges for strolls of greater or lesser extent.

One day he saw his chance for a longer stroll than usual and took his young charges right through the enemy camp to Camillus's tent. (V 27)

The obvious consequence was that Rome for a moment held important hostages and could have potentially forced the surrender of the city, but Camillus refused to do so. Rather he addressed the schoolmaster,

Neither my people nor I, who command their army, happen to share your tastes. You are a scoundrel and your offer is unworthy of you. As political entities there is no bond of unity between Rome and Falerii, but we are bound nonetheless and always will be by the bonds of a common humanity. War has its laws as peace has, and we have learned to wage war with decency no less than with courage. We have drawn the sword not against children who even in the sack of cities are spared, but against men, armed like ourselves.... These men, your countrymen, you have done your best to humiliate by this vile and unprecedented act: but I shall bring them low... by the Roman arts of courage, persistance and arms. (V 27)

Camillus thus sent the schoolmaster and his charges back to the city- the boys whipping the schoolmaster as they went. The citizens of Falerii were so impressed that according to Livy they surrendered the city immediatly to the Roman commander.

As ever who knows how true this story is. But the important point is not the story- the capture of Falerii was not a world changing event- but the point that Livy seeks to make through the story. Camillus here represents the ideal Roman response to the position he was placed in. The ideal Roman response was to reject the offer- for two key reasons. Firstly and this is important to understand, this story illustrates the boundaries of Roman doctrines of war. It demonstrates that Livy and his audience thought that children should be excluded from war as a matter of course. Secondly it illustrates the degree to which such strategems were thought to be opposite to the kind of courage that Livy and Camillus see as a political virtue. The laws of war set out expectations for each side and thus allow both to anticipate the other's moves- the arts of war are the arts of courage- and can be united in the adjective Roman because of this. War takes place in the open.

Lastly it is worth noting that Livy attaches a reward to following these laws. Good behaviour produces good results- this is very notable in Livy's discussions of religion as well. You do the right thing and you are rewarded for it. In this sense Livy's conception of morality- something to follow which is right and will give you success- differs from some modern understandings of morality where you do something because it is right and irrespective of whether it delivers success. In that sense we are closer to the medievals than the classics.

Quantum of Solace

Watching the most recent James Bond film, I wondered about something. Lets put some things to rest immediatly: Daniel Craig is the best Bond since Sean Connery- or possibly Roger Lazenby. He is neither a comic turn (Mr Moore take your bow) nor a pale imitation of a comic turn (Brosnan). There are other reasons to welcome 'Quantum of Solace' to our screens- it is no Casino Royale. The first Craig Bond film was much better- but it is also shorter than Casino, whose last half hour dragged. The story is confused. Some parts are hardly developed at all- Gemma Arteton is required to do stern, orgasmic, confused and lastly naked dead and that's the sum total of her part. The story, taken seriously as political analysis, is something that Umberto Eco would love to deconstruct: this is Foucault's Pendulum for the visual age- replace the Illuminati or the standard villains of second rate thriller writers like Dan Brown with the modern spinners and political businessmen and you've got the picture. And yet there is a good film in there somewhere.

What the film has is darkness. Bond is a sadistic killer. That should come as no surprise- it is his job afterall. But its something worth reminding ourselves of. The old vision of the secret services as places of sadness, distrust and depression, so visible in Alec Guiness's Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Smiley's People (both fantastic serieses), is worth cultivating and its hinted at here. Bond is a man who has decided, after the death of a girl he loves, to forget about human emotion and live only in the vicarious and vicious second. He has become a secret agent- and as Smilley would think that kills. However this darkness is not given context- again I compare to Alec Guinness's performance. For with Guiness you saw the sadness drip off the man like the grimy rain falling around him: you saw him for what he was, an old man, bent below the wind. Bond is younger- but in this film you don't feel the inner torment- he is even allowed to act for the good side and in a sense, the justice of his cause makes him a less not a more interesting character.

That's the issue with this film ultimately and its something that makes it an example of what doesn't work in modern cinema. Ultimately the film falls down not on special effects (of which there are plenty of good ones), not on actors (Mr Craig can act- as can Miss Kurylenko and Dame Dench) but on dialogue. In order to have a good film, you need a good script. The problem is that these guys can't write a good script. Bond could turn into one of the classic flawed heroes of cinema- here even the Bond girl has almost been written out- Bond beds Miss Arteton but in a half hearted way, and then goes on to kiss but not bed Miss Kurylenko. The film makers have intelligence- they are happy to reference other Bond films in the past- when Miss Arteton lies dead on her bed, naked and covered in oil the reference to Goldfinger is obvious. When Felix Leiter returns, the indications are clear- these guys know their Bond. But dialogue is vital in order to turn that intelligence into something worth watching and listening to- it is the rail on which the actors hang their performances.

This film you see brought me back to a genre filled with flawed heroes- film noir. There is a reason that Quantum of Solace cannot compete- it could with its actors, with its effects- but it cannot so long as the dialogue remains this poor. Even a story can be incomprehensible (Raymond Chandler had no idea who did one of the murders in the Big Sleep) though it helps to be comprehensible- but you have to earn your right to be intelligent and more often than not its the words you use that earn you that right. There are exceptions of course to every rule. But here I found myself wondering about whether directors start from a script or from an action choreography, I would love the former, I regret to say I fear the latter is true. Quantum of Solace isn't a bad film- its enjoyable and a perfectly pleasant way of losing a couple of hours- but there is so much more that could be done with the flawed Bond and with these performances. Get a good script, sort out a good story and the rest will follow because of the quality of the people involved.

The film is no failure- but neither is it as successful as it should be- if Bond films are going to be, as both Casino Royale and this demonstrate, more than a Carry On Franchise, they have to be judged by the standards I would expect of any other film. Quantum of Solace meets the criteria for one of the better films of this year- but it will not be remembered as a great film and nor does it deserve to be.

History or story

There is an old story that while the king in Veii was offering a sacrifice, a priest declared that he who carved up the victim's entrails would be victorious in the war; the priest's words were overheard by some of the Roman soldiers in the tunnel, who thereupon opened it, snatched the entrails and took them to Camillus. Personally I am content as a historian, if in things which happened so many centuries ago probabilities are accepted as truth; this tale, which is too much like a romantic stage play to be taken seriously, I feel is hardly worth attention either for affirmation or denial.

When Livy says this, he marks an important distinction between himself and another kind of tale about the past and also he establishes that that kind of tale is one of his sources. Livy's reliance on stories to tell him about the Roman past should come as no surprise- the texture and colour of his narrative is about character and character survives, not through the kinds of senatorial and consular records that Rome might have had of its remote past, but through stories, passed down through the ages. Now Livy in my view understood that such stories had a value- he did not dismiss them but used them within his narrative to flesh it out- and prized the faculty of memory rightly as something that can pass something of the truth down. But he distinguished between what he did and these stories.

That's the next interesting judgement for us to make- what distinguished Livy's art from say a storyteller's art was the distinction that Livy draws immediately in this passage- between the romantic theatre episode and the true history. True History involves everything that the story does- but it involves more- it involves what Livy does to the story- he changes it. He changes it through the agency of reason, through the agency of an assessment of probabilities. He does not merely repeat, but he evaluates. And he evaluates against a standard- not of what will entertain but of what will educate. This difference is key- because is the difference between a student and a story teller. One evaluates a story by reason of its entertaining status- the other suspects entertainment as something that might be embellished- for him it is the detail, the little incident that doesn't fit that sounds credible. Its here that Livy establishes for me his reputation as a historian- not in the decision to include stories but in the decision to reject.

We have a historian here not a folklorist. There are many virtues to a folklorist- but amongst them is not the virtue of being a historian- why should we evaluate someone by that standard who has no wish to be so evaluated. Livy though is not a folklorist- he uses the products of the folklorist, the singer of songs, but evaluates them and places them in his narrative because he believes them to be true. He even places those in his narrative he believes to be false in order to present his reader with a fuller picture. The King of Veii never probably had his sacrifice stolen from him in this way- it would have been a picturesque detail- but Livy the historian sacrificed it on the altar of attempting something else, history.

The uses of a Fiscal Bonus

In the dictatorship of Camillus (c. 396 BC) Rome finally captured its great rival Veii. Livy tells us that Camillus recognised immediatly that the city 'would yield more in plunder than all the previous campaigns put together' (V 20). Even if we discount Livy's words as hyperbolic, Veii was still an impressive capture and an important one for Rome- and not merely in strategical terms. It was an important city within the Etruscan confederation. Rome had had to exert new fiscal and military strategies- including a paid army which served all year- in order to put down its rival. But they also confronted Rome with a new problem- a problem that Camillus recognised that even as dictator he could not deal with- the problem of a sudden amount of plunder. As he beseiged the city- he sought advice from the senate about what to do with the plunder he might acquire.

There were two positions within the senate. Livy makes us privy to the arguments. It is noticable that the typical Roman position which had focussed on the land that they had conquered was not amongst the position in the senate- wealth not land was the key to the importance of Veii within domestic Roman politics. The first position, identified with Publius Licinius, was that Rome should invite its over taxed people to go to Veii and strip the town of its wealth- they should earn the plunder as a 'real relief' from the vast taxation that they paid. (V 20). In opposition to Licinius, Appius Claudius argued that the money should be taken into the Roman treasury and 'the money should be used for paying the troops. Every family would feel the benefit and city idlets would be prevented from laying greedy fingers on a prize that should go by rights to men who had fought bravely for their country'. (V 20). Eventually the senate decided to go with Licinius- fearing the anger of the population if they took Appius's course (V 21).

Whether they were right or not is something that is difficult at this distance to say. But what I think this debate throws into relief is the continuation of a modern issue. To be provocative, as my title indicates, one could argue that Rome had received an unexpected fiscal bonus: the state was suddenly rich with expected plunder. The question between Licinius and Appius was what to do with that bonus- whether to grant it as a direct gift to the people or to use it to reduce taxation in the long term. What we have here is a debate about the distribution of this good- whether it should go to the classes paying the taxes, or to those who were most likely to go to plunder the city. In a sense this is a debate about the distribution of fiscal bonuses- and it is perhaps the most modern thing I have yet seen in Livy. The modern state is a state which collects taxes- as soon as you have taxes, you have issues about their distribution and something which approximates to modern debates about the way that the state's finances both are used and are paid for. This fiscal bonus indicates a 'modern' facet to Roman politics which was directly related to the development of taxation and to the development of war.

As President Eisenhower might say, the military-industrial complex had arrived in ancient Rome with all its issues- that we as moderns are familiar with.

A function of Religion

Mostly readers of this blog will live in states where religion and politics are separated- either by law (as in the United States of America) or as in the UK de facto. Even those who wish for a more religious source for modern law do not share the outlook on religion which shaped the experience of the ancient Romans or the medieval or early modern Christians. When we seek to understand the past we have to understand the different functions that religion had in the past as opposed to our present. Our religions- in the West (and I include the Middle East in that west) are largely monotheistic and based around the action of prayer- they have public manifestations but they are also private, about the individual's relationship with God. In the ancient world, that was not as true or rather the public aspects of religion were stressed- and perhaps here our religions have become over time more individualised (a process that has produced both fundamentalism and liberalism in religion). That strays from my point- which is this different nature of religion in the ancient world- we can see that different nature if for example we examine Livy's discussion of religious observance in Rome in the early 4th Century BC.

The period immediately after the introduction of the taxes I described in my last post resulted in Romans being subject to huge costs. But they were also harsh periods agriculturally. Livy describes a terrible winter which was so cold that Rome was cut off as roads and rivers froze and became impossible or difficult to pass along. (V 13) That was followed by a summer of unprecedented severe heat- which caused or helped to cause in Livy's view a plague, 'neither human beings nor animals were immune' and the disease was 'incurable'. (V 13). This came alongside a series of military defeats- against Veii and others- Livy has the tribunes refer emotively to the Romans seeing 'our battered troops stagger in fear and disorder through the city gates.' (V 11) The Tribunes' statement gets at something that we have to recall- the effects of defeat or plague were not seen on a television screen from thousands of miles away, reduced the dull whirr of the set and the correspondent's voice, but realities, visible and imminent for every citizen of Rome who watched his neighbours die, who could not get grain from his farm and saw the troops come home in disgrace.

In this sense, the words national calamity have a real meaning- and Livy leaves us in no doubt as to what the response was. The senate consulted the Sybillene Books of prophesy- but more interestingly they also created a new ceremony. 'For the first time in Rome, the ceremony of lectisternium or the draping of the couches' was performed. (V 13). This ceremony took the form of three couches been left outside in the open air for the Gods to stay on. Livy informs us though of something like a carnival atmosphere in Rome at the time- 'a similar ceremony' was performed in private houses (V 13) and friends and neighbours were invited in and entertained. Viands were left out for whoever desired and men invited even their enemies to dine with them. Moreover the prisoners, held by Rome, were released from their chains and ultimately allowed to remit their sentences. What we see here is a spasm of religious fervour which allows a society to rebond together after calamity- a response to the disasters.

But the response went further- in this heightened atmosphere various religious signs were noticed by the Roman citizenry- in particular the Alban lake rose. The Romans, Livy tells us, were wont to rely on Etruscan soothsayers- none of whom were in the city at the time to consult and so sent a mission to Delphi. Also though two Roman soldiers came across and kidnapped an Etruscan old man who seemed to be a soothsayer- interpreting the plight of Rome's armies at Veii as being indicated from heaven (V 14). After the mission to Delphi had returned and confirmed the old man's interpretation, the soothsayer was 'held in the highest esteem' and he was employed to direct the Romans in ways to appease the Gods- the leading magistrates in the Republic had to resign and replacements had to be elected as their appointment had been done illegitimately (V 15), games were celebrated and the Alban lake drained- as Livy comments- these steps having been performed 'the doom of Veii was at hand' (V 20). I mention this not to ridicule the Romans but because it emphasizes how important religion was within the Roman polity and how political it was. Political office was tied to religion and political success tied directly to the will of the Gods.

This faith of the community is something that Livy himself believed in: Rome would be prosperous so long as it kept faith with its Gods and performed their rituals in appropriate ways. As historians, it hardly matters to us whether the sequence of events that Livy described happened exactly as he describes- what matters I think with this story is the mentality it uncovers. Firstly it suggests that religion functioned as a civic safety guard. One of the things that is noticeable throughout this tale is the stress that the Republic was under and the way that the population were emotionally supported through the use of their religious ceremonies. The cathartic carnival atmosphere of the day of the draping of the couches springs to mind.

Furthermore and secondly these ceremonies gave them reasons why they had failed- a bad winter and a bad summer could only be the product of the will of the Gods and could be solved. It promoted a constructive outlook on bad fortune which served the state and people well- in that sense religion was a useful psychological mechanism by which the Romans could understand their situation and move forward. It was also deeply empirical- after all errors were always likely to be made or be remembered in religious ritual. Lastly and probably most terrifyingly, religion could propel people to the front of politics incredibly quickly- the old man that the Romans had captured became a significant figure within the Republic because he seemed to hit upon a practical method of assuaging the fears of the commons. This had revolutionary potential in times of crisis- it suggests that religion at this point could perform the function of explaining popular distrust in their leaders.

The function of this civic religion was important within Ancient Rome. There is a last element to this which is that stories such as this reinforced a sense that Rome would survive- that Rome was blessed by the Gods. We have to understand this civic function in order to understand how the Roman state managed to survive- of course other cities in Italy no doubt at the same time had similar beliefs and the Roman state's survival against them had much to do with other factors- luck, favourable situation, skill etc.- but if we are to answer some important questions like how did this state or other states like it endure through plague, famine, misfortune and defeat then part of the answer is to be found in religion. Livy indicates this whilst also believing in it- we don't have to believe it, but we do have to understand it and keep it as a background if we are to understand Roman history.

Military Service

The basis of Rome's strength as a city was her ability to mobilise her citizens in the pursuit of the objectives of the senate and people. War played a large part in Roman politics- and we have already seen influenced the contours of her domestic politics. As we come to the end of the fifth century though we see a massive change in Livy's history of Rome: in an act that Livy informs us proceeded from the generous heart of the senate, the Roman army was paid for its services for the first time in a campaign against Veii. (IV 59). 'The joy' Livy tells us 'at this innovation was unprecedented'. (IV 59). What instantly emerges though from Livy's account is the way that a paid army transformed the Roman state- Livy attributes the discussions and arguments about a paid army to the jealous passions of the tribunes (and there may be something in the argument that they resented the new popularity of the senate) but there is something else here that we ought to bear in mind when considering the change that this brought to Rome's position.

Firstly paying the army meant simply that Rome would need more money to fund its wars. The tribunes stated, in an argument to be repeated ad infinitum down to our times when the issue of tax arises, that the senate had merely been 'generous at others' expense' (IV 60). The argument has merit. The tribunes attempted to forment a tax strike- particularly as they argued it was unjust for veterans who had served before the change, when a soldier had to support himself on campaign, to contribute to this tax to allow their sons and nephews to have a softer time. Livy tells us that the senators overcame this by contributing voluntarily to the tax collection- but he gives us some idea of its size when he mentions that 'as there was not yet a silver coinage, some of them made quite a spectacle by driving to the treasuy with wagonfuls of bronze bars' (IV 60). What we are seeing here is a massive fiscal expansion of the Roman state.

Secondly paying the army changed the terms of service for men at the front. During the war between Rome and Veii, the Roman army camped outside of Veii during the summer and the winter. The tribunes were suspicious of this 'new idea of winter campaigning' and perceived a design to keep out of Rome 'large numbers of able men who are the strength of the popular cause'. (V 1). More interesting to us than this political conspiracy theory, is the answer of Appius Claudius the patrician's representative in the debate to the argument. For Claudius argued that the contract between the state and the soldier, the state and the citizen had fundementally changed: 'might not the state say "You have a year's pay so give a year's work"' (V 5). Appius's argument was simple- Rome was now paying the soldiers that it conscripted- they had no need to return to their farms to cultivate them if Rome paid them to fight. He mentions only to discard the notion of a 'mercenary' army (V 5) but then makes a further and more interesting appeal to the citizen as a citizen. Appius argues that the shift in military service benefits all because it benefits the state- he argues that such a shift makes Rome more powerful and more able to defend itself against Veii (V 5).

Whether this actually happened at the moment that Livy says it did is a matter that we cannot know- but I think the debate here is actually more interesting than the timing. What Livy demonstrates is that the shift from a volunteer unpaid army to a paid army has vast consequences for the internal politics of a Republic. It creates a great fiscal need that the state has to fulfill on the one hand and on the other it means that the state has much greater power over the soldier- and can demand more from him than before. In that sense it creates the state- it gives that organism much more power than it had before and allows it to project that power further. It does that though at a cost- for the tribunes were right, what the state had done was ultimately to deprive some of the brute force that the populace had to withdraw its labour. It is much easier to withdraw your labour when your income does not depend on it- by financing wars through taxation and paying soldiers, the state had made the Roman population less capable of resisting its instructions.

No matter on when that happened- that must have been a momentous change and one with great consequences for the future of Rome.

The Story of Marcus Postumius Regilensis

The story of Marcus Postumius Regilensis (which is probably untrue: Livy says that he was a military tribune whereas other writers mention him as a censor) is important in assessing Livy's understanding of the dynamics of popular politics. Postumius was, according to Livy, a commander in a further war against the Aequians. Postumius for Livy was an example not of great military leadership or poor leadership, but of domestic political folly. Postumius was, according to Livy, soon after his victory over the Aequi, stoned to death by his own troops. It is worth pausing over this event- disregarding whether it actually happened or not- and analysing for a moment why Livy believed that a Roman commander might be killed, in such a bloodthirsty way by his own troops. What according to Livy were the principles of the management of politics that Postumius had disregarded which led to his dreadful death?

When Livy introduces Postumius, he tells us that he was 'in some respects a bad man, though the defects in his character did not become apparent until the campaign had been brought to a successful end'. (IV 49). As is typical with Livy's technique- he introduces a character by giving us in parenthesis the indication of their later fate- it is a way of preparing us to read even his praise in a double edged way in order to spot this flaw. Thus for instance when he commends Postumius's 'great energy' in raising troops (IV 49) the reader is automatically drawn to consider what the inverse quality of great energy might be- these subtle strokes of Livy's brush have already painted for us a character, whose details we are searching for. What Livy establishes quickly though is the reasons for Postumius's instant unpopularity with the troops- he promised them the spoils of the town, Bolae, that they had captured, but refused to give them them (IV 49).

However upsetting your troops was a fairly regular occurrence according to Livy- what turned Postumius from an unpopular to a murdered commander was not necessarily his eagerness in offering his troops plunder and then refusing it to them, as his rashness when he returned to Rome. In the forum he announced that 'Unless my men keep their mouths shut on that matter, they had better look out' (IV 49)- Livy prefaces this comment by telling us that it was 'surely unworthy of any reasonable or intelligent person' (IV 49) and after it tells us that the senate and everyone in the assembly were 'shocked' (IV 49). The reason for their shock is presented to us by Livy through the words of the tribune Sextius, he responded to the 'heartless and brutal comment' (IV 49) by shouting 'Men of Rome... do you hear how he threatens his soldiers as if they were slaves.' and Sextius makes much of the 'gasp of horror' that the speech drew forth and then tells his audience that this is how the patricians think of them. (IV 49)

So we have the character sketch provided to us- the indications of great energy, the rash promise followed by the failure to fulfill, the rash statement in the forum- but Livy adds a last touch. When Postumius arrived back at his army, he was hated (IV 50). But again Livy presents us with an account of why he worsened the situation- a quaestor Sestius attempted to punish the troops and was unable to- Postumius

was sent for and made everything worse by his remorseless inquiries and savage punishments and at last, when the crowd had gathered at the cries of some wretched victims whom he had ordered to be crushed to death under a hurdle, he lost control of himself altogether, left the tribunal and ran like a madman to where the attempt was being made to stop the executions. The lictors and centurions were doing what they could to disperse the mob of enraged soldiery, but to no effect: such was the fury of the troops that Postumius was stoned to death- a commander-in-chief murdered by his own men.

I quoted the whole passage because I think it is important to realise how Livy's entire account has been building to this moment- from the moment that he tells us that Postumius had great energy, to the rash sayings in the forum, he wants us to get an impression. We have a steady build up or revelation of character- and from the first we know that the effect will be that Postumius will be revealed to be 'bad'. Livy's art here is of taking this single incident and unfolding to us the cause- or rather letting us discover the cause.

The art though serves a purpose. What Livy wants us to do is to see Postumius as a dangerous politician. Not because he is unable to command men or because he is cowardly but because he is unwise- and rash. We are shown that Postumius throughout lacks the ability to understand the consequences of what he is saying and evaluate those consequences- that Livy is telling us is fatal in a man in a political community consumed by conflict (any political community worth the name one might rightly think). The artistry reinforces the point- because Livy makes an argument through the unfolding events- seeking to display the connection between the 'great energy' of raising troops, all the way to rash promises, speeches and eventually actions and death. Postumius may not have existed- but he does offer us an example both of Livy's style and of a lesson Livy wants to teach about politics. The legacy of Postumius was one of division and suspicion (IV 50): this is important because it reminds us that these kind of actions (and not merely Postumius's hot blooded wrath but his soldiers' hot blooded response) kept the poison of faction from being dissipated.

Livy therefore uses this historical episode to show us something- that temperament in a politician is a key indicy of success. Postumius could have survived had he been a sober patrician- his death was attributable to his rash thoughtless actions and those rash thoughtless actions had an after effect that poisoned Roman politics.

Labici

Throughout the period that we are analysing within Livy's history, Rome was fighting several Italian cities and tribes. We shall turn to its successes and failures in a future post- though your blogger confesses that his interest does not lie as much in military history as in its constitutional consequences. But military victories led to results outside of Rome, that early on confronted the nascent Republic with a challenge of both government and of political strategy. What was the attitude of Rome to conquered peoples and even more importantly to conquered territories? The problem that Rome confronted was dual- firstly that Rome was 'originally founded upon alien soil' and 'had hardly any territory but what had been acquired in war' (IV 48) and the second being the more central and perplexing issue of maintaining control over these areas.

The first issue gave rise to great political quarrels- which for the moment we shall leave. The second though ran alongside it. Often Rome conquered territories that were not close to the city itself- were beyond the territories of Rome's allies and were in parts of Italy that would not enable people to return to Rome easily. The standard ancient way of dealing with this problem was to found a colony- a city made up of citizens from another city which would ally itself with the other city. Famous examples of colonies included places like Massilia and Syracuse in the Greek world- and one is tempted to think that the practise spread (like so much else from southern Italy). Of course not every city stayed allied to its mother city- Corcyra fought in the opposite side to Corinth in the Peloponesian war for example- and mostly they were very independent of their mother city.

Romans though saw the use of following this method- founding strategic colonies in the north of Latium to resist the Etruscans. They also reoccupied old city sites and fortified them after victories in war. Labici went to war with Rome alongside the Aequians in the 5th Century. Roman armies victored over the Labician armies and the senate 'passed a resolution to send settlers to Labici and 1500 people left Rome to settle there, with a grant of about one and a half acres each' (IV 48). One can see the attraction of leaving immediatly- the grant of land to the settlers was enough to make it a worthwhile cause for the poor- one can also see the dangers, the settlers in Labici were swiftly attacked by the Bolae and Aequians (IV 49) no doubt a testiment to the wisdom of their arrival. The Aequians interestingly enough did the same thing in Bolae (IV 49). We often think of the Roman empire as a provincial institution- but actually in the early days, Rome extended its territory by founding colonies which guarded hinterlands and positions.

In a sense this throws into relief an important thing to remember about early Rome- she was neither an empire nor a world power- but a central Italian city state, struggling with others. One of the ways that she did this was sending out excess population- that she could not provide for- to colonise places that her armies had conquered and driven the previous inhabitants from. In a sense, the impression Livy gives- and I think there are good reasons based partly on the availability of records and stories about the foundations of towns to beleive him- is of a great chess game across Latium being played by various powers sending out colonists. The relationship between these colonists and the mother city is not something Livy discusses much at this point- if there is a point at which I believe he is being coy, it is here, there is enough evidence from Greece to suggest that colonies took an independent trajectory at times.

The point I am making here is not that stunning- but it is important. We cannot think of the early Roman environs of being like the later ones- we have to think of Rome as a city state with allies and colonies rather than an empire with provinces and territories. Once we see that, we begin to understand the kind of political environment in which early Roman foreign policy operated- and also that one of the causes of the Republic's early social problems was (if we are to beleive Livy) the question of the distribution of land within these new colonies.

Roman religion

Men's minds fell sick as well as their bodies; they became possessed by all sorts of superstitions, mostly of foreign origin, and the sort of people who can turn other men's superstitious terrors to their own advantage set up as seers and introduced strange rites and ceremonies into private houses, until the debased state of the national conscience came to the notice of the leaders of soicety who could not but be aware in every street and chapel of the weird and outlandish forms of new prayer by which their hag-ridden compatriots sought to appease the wrath of heaven. Then the government stepped in, and the aediles were instructed to see that only Roman gods were worshipped and only in the traditional way. (IV 30)

This passage within Livy's history demonstrates two central truths which dominated the history of Roman religion. The first is that Roman religion was influenced from abroad- who knows what 'foreign' customs Livy is talking about here. Influences came to Rome from Etrusca- where for instance the custom of lictors proceeding before Kings came in and some of the other 'Roman' customs arrived from. Many religious customs in Rome- the Sibylene prophesies for example- have even their professed origins as coming from abroad. It does not seem extraordinary to me to see that Rome borrowed and was borrowed from in a commerce of religious ideas that went throughout the Italian peninsular following the paths of trade and war. Of course the paths led south as well as north- we find the Romans borrowing Greek customs too. The story of Romulus and Remus has its antecedents in Greek myth- and even the entire idea of various Roman Gods- Apollo most importantly- came early and from Greece (according to Professor Burket at least.) This trend carried on through Roman history- the cults of Isis (Egyptian), Mithras (Syrian), Christ (Palestinian) and many others remain visible in the historical record to demonstrate to us the cosmopolitan nature of Roman religion: it is even visible in the worship of the Emperors themselves- a process that Tacitus tells us started in the Eastern Provinces and then came to the Imperial city.

Alongside this continuous process of religious adoptation of the ideas of others- and the adoptation might be philosophical too witness the Stoics- the Romans felt a deep anxiety about the corruption that these cults introduced. This passage reflects that anxiety. In particular Romans suggested that adopting the new Gods might lead the citizens to abandon the old ones who had served Rome well. Such new rites could often have a distabilising effect on individual lives- akin say to the fear about scientology today- an ancient Roman might see the Orphic cults of Greece as promoting sin, moral decay and leading young men and women astray. Livy's language with its warnings about the exploitation of the superstitious by those who set themselves up as 'seers' comes from that tradition. But the broader anxiety was focussed upon the very nature of the Roman republic- when Rome absorbed all these customs and ideas from abroad, how Roman did Rome remain? But this cultural mix flowed from Rome's engagement with and importance in patterns of trade and warfare that it wished to dominate- in which case without this fertilisation from abroad, the Republic risked becoming static and ultimately declining.

This tension at the heart of Roman history lies at the heart of Livy's history, it is a tension familiar to all imperial states. The tension lies between the idea of the imperial heartland and its importance as a centre- and the fact that in order to continue to govern its territories successfully, it has to absorb, observe and ultimately sympathise with them. Rome's destiny as an imperial state was eventually to sublimate the history of the city within the history of the empire- that is the heart of the revolution that Livy did not see- wherein the principate changed to an imperium- but Livy was already aware that Rome itself was becoming less Roman in his own day and that it had made its way in the world through adoptation and expropriation rather than purity. The Aediles stepped in to make sure Roman gods were worshipped alone- but how did they tell which were the Roman Gods (afterall almost all would have been influenced by foreign customs) and furthermore they were evidently not successful, as Rome was.

Machiavelli once said, commenting on Livy, that Rome as a republic forsook stability for expansion- the passage aboves testifies that this was a conflict that was alive in the minds of Romans like Livy- even if it was resolved in favour of expansion eventually.

Burn after Reading

The future of Hollywood comedy has sometimes seemed unsafe: the terrible teens (American Pie et al.) or Eddie Murphy's latest atrocities seemed to reduce comedy on the silver screen to a matter of masturbation and massicating. But as C.S. Lewis once said, to every Sophist a Socrates is raised, or words to the same effect- and if the last years of the 20th and first years of the 21st century showed us plenty of examples of how comedy should not be done: then the Coen Brothers have provided us with a couple of examples of how comedy should be done- including their latest film, Burn after Reading.

Burn after Reading is about a CIA agent, who gets sacked, whose wife is in bed with a friend that he doesn't like. His wife steals his financial records to get an advantage in the divorce she is planning- but the lawyer's secretary manages to leave the CD containing them and other semi classified material in a gym- where they are picked up by an instructor who is dating the wife's boyfriend, and who with the help of another instructor goes down to attempt to sell these records to the sacked CIA agent and the Russian embassy. Got that? Or rather don't worry if you didn't- this has a plot that goes round in circles, up and down, and always provides another surprise. Quite simply it is in the best tradition of absurdist Hollywood comedy- sitting alongside His Girl Friday for example- both for the complexity of its plot and the intelligence of its dialogue.

Ultimately its the characters that mean you don't care that you lose the thread of Burn after Reading. They are brilliantly realised- and brilliantly absurd. Whether its John Malkovich attempting to get his revenge on his wife, dressed in a dressing gown, or Brad Pitt dancing to his stereo in a car in his suit- the characters, their actions and the actors are all perfectly aligned. If anyone has seen Pitt make a better movie then I'd like to see it- this is the kind of performance that gets Oscars. These characters are completely mad- but also completely beleivable. Another Oscar winning performance potentially, in my view, comes from Frances McDormand (amongst the best actresses in Hollywood), playing a thick gym owner who thinks she is on to the Da Vinci Code and can finally sell it to get a breast implant. Tilda Swinton is cold as a knife, George Clooney can't resist agreeing with anything in a skirt to get them into bed, and as for J.K. Simmons's part as the head of the CIA- I'm not sure there are many parts with so few lines and so many laughs in the history of cinema.

There is not a great message here- but it is wholesome comedy. Unlike Norbit say, the jokes actually run on a great truth about the human condition- we are a bit lost. We don't know what we are doing- as the CIA chief says at the end of the movie, lets not do that again, fuck knows what we did. He gets something pretty true though- the point about this film is that noone is particularly guilty- noone is particularly innocent. Everyone is muddling through and end up where they end up, thanks not to some supernatural evil plan, some genius of mendacity or even moral failure- but because they are idiots, like we all are. We can laugh at them- but we also or I also could see myself in them. I think that's what made it so funny- yes its amusing but despite the absurdity, it is also true that human beings muddle rather than plan through life.

As you would expect this is dark humour- you listen to the lines and think as the actors say them, this must make sense and realise quickly that it doesn't. There are some fine satirical touches- a wonderful plastic surgeon for example and an amazing dismissal introduce McDormand and Malkovich's characters. Partisans for divorce lawyers will not be happy and there is a scene in which Swinton confronts a difficult child with all the impatience of a busy doctor at work. But it is the absurdity that keeps the film going and the tremendous energy- this is not one of the Coens' best films by a long shot- but it beats most of the competition hands down and is well worth seeing. There isn't much to analyse- but there is a great deal to enjoy and if you have an empty evening- I'd fill it with this.

A Hint of Sicily

One other thing happened during the course of this eventful year: the Carthaginians- destined one day to be our bitterest enemies- crossed for the first time into Sicily to take sides in a local dispute. (IV 30)

It is pretty easy to guess why this isolated sentence comes into Book Four of Livy's history. He wants to indicate what is about to happen- and what several books later will become a theme of his history- the conflict for dominance in the Western Meditereanean between Rome and Carthage- a conflict that we shall obviously consider later. But for now, I think its more interesting to wonder about why Livy writes this- we know why he wrote it, but where did he come across the fact that Carthage was intervening in Sicily (a fact he tells us has nothing to do with Rome at this point) and decide to include it in his history. We know that Livy was interested in Roman historians and in senatorial records- but I would conjecture that what this extract reveals is that Livy was interested in another kind of history, which threw a light on what happened in Rome.

In the south of Italy and in Sicily for years a thriving Greek culture had developed. The earliest Greek colonies were founded at some point in the 8th Century BC. They had become important centres within the Greek world. The playwright Aeschylus spent some of his declining years in Syracuse and may well have died in Sicily and Sappho the poet may well have been exiled there from Mytilene a century before. By the 410s Syracuse was a major Greek power- and amongst the most important actions of the Peloponesian war was the invasion of Sicily by Athens- an invasion successfully resisted. So Sicily was important and was part of the civilised Greek world- which meant it was probably literate and probably had its own- now lost- histories. That would suggest that Sicilians recorded the event described in Livy- there is no reason for a Roman chronicler to have recorded it as according to the historian this event did not effect the Romans. So it would seem a fair assumption- that Livy took it from a Sicilian chronicler- but why was Livy reading things in Sicily?

Here I think we have something more important than Livy's warning to his readers- we have an indication of how he worked at early Roman history and about one of the non-Roman sources that Livy used. This argument is not conclusive- though it is backed by the scholarly introduction of the edition I'm using- but it would seem likely that Livy was reading Sicilian chronicles and probably southern Italian chronicles (where there was also a Greek culture) to learn about events further north in the peninsular. He must have grabbed this particular incident- the first mention of Carthage and decided to put it in his history. That would indicate that behind some of Livy's history lies the sources he mentions- the Roman historians, the records in the temples that we have discussed and of course his own intelligence as a historian- and behind other parts lies a hidden Greek influence from the lands Magna Graeca (southern Italy and Sicily). I say influence because it may have been refracted through other historians- that we do not know about- but somewhere at the source of some of Livy's history of Rome are accounts of the history of Sicily and southern Greece which mention, occasionally, events to the north and allowed Livy to realise the date of the first Carthaginian involvement in Sicily.

Cossus

Livy is not renowned for his irony or for his wit. But he has both- and he can use both destructively- both to write about and to write around tyranny. There is a wonderful example in the fourth book of his history, concerning a minor Roman hero Cossus. Cossus was a hero in a battle against other Italians- seizing their general's arms and striking down their leader. He was awarded the right of putting the arms of that vanquished general inside the temple of Jupiter. But Livy faced a real problem- a problem to do with the definition of the arms that might be placed in the temple- traditionally in his own day that was the consul's prerogative. Fair enough, you might say things had changed: but Livy faces another problem on the one side we have the ancient chroniclers and on the other the temple records, from the temple of Jupiter. But examine closer what Livy says about those records in the temple and we notice this important line- put in I'm sure by accident- that it was Augustus Caesar himself who found the name of Cossus with the inscription consul beside it, after he had renovated it, surely Livy says it would be 'sacrilege to deprive Cossus of so great a witness to his spoils as Caesar, the restorer of that very shrine'. (4.20)

What Livy then does is unfold every reason why Cossus could not have been consul in that year. Other records in Rome, held in the temple of Moneta, do not show him holding the consulship in that year. Great historians like Licinius Macer have followed them and how they got it wrong is, a lovely touch, 'anybody's guess'. We can't shift the date of the battle- as we know that Cossus's actual later consulship was many years later 'within a three year period in which there were no wars at all' (4.20). Three years later he did fight another notable cavalry action as a military tribune but that is an independent story- and then Livy finishes his account by noting that

In all this there is room for conjecture, though in my own view it is unneccessary; for one need hardly attend to other people's guesses when the man himself who fought the battle having laid his new won spoils in their sacred resting place, in the visible presence of Romulus and Jupiter to whom he dedicated them- awful witnesses whom no forger would take lightly- inscribed his name as Aulus Cornelius Cossus, consul.

Of course Livy wants us to conjecture- that's why he has included all the other evidence above- and he wants us to link Augustus's restoration of the temple to Cossus's distinction. All the sources point one way and a newly restored temple points the other way- faith in Caesar means that we must beleive the temple mustn't we.

I don't think for a moment that Livy believed that Augustus faked this inscription deliberately- there isn't much I can imagine Caesar gaining from such a forgery about a battle long gone. But I do think that Livy is making a point about tyranny. Augustus made a mistake- but because he made a mistake- presuming that the ancient writing must have referred to Cossus consul- everyone else in Rome must believe that Cossus was the consul when all the evidence and an earlier meticulous account from Livy suggests that he wasn't. We have everything on one side and the word of Augustus on the other- but it is impossible now in Rome to not take the word of Augustus seriously- even when it commits a forgery (perhaps an honest one) in the temple of Jupiter with Romulus watching on. Both religion and truth are here the servants of tyranny- history or our perception of it twists around the finger of the emperor and ultimately we must believe, because he has said so, that Cossus was a consul- even though we know he is not.

That little anecdote I think captures perfectly the dilemmas that Livy and later historians faced- and the mode that they confronted them with. For resistance to tyranny was accomplished both by Livy, and his later successor Tacitus, using irony. For Tacitus this became the chief tool of history- because he wrote about the imperium- Livy was writing about the republic so his tone was more celebratory but I think in this piece of writing we see what a Livyan history of the Principate might have looked like. It would have been ironic- it would have been aware of the way truth vanishes at the tyrant's throne and it would have been, in that sense Tacitean.

Farewell Topsails

Part of the BFI's great set of DVDs which hold British documentaries from the 1930s, Farewell Topsails is one of the shortest and one of the most impressive documentaries that I have ever seen. Humphrey Jennings makes a documentary filled with the haunting melancholy notes of the accordion which is itself haunting. In Jennings' own day the trade which ran out of the southwest was dying- the sail ships were being abandoned for motorised industry and steam (this was the world before Beeching when Britain's railways spanned the country in triumph). "Once there were hundreds" he tells us "but now there are only half a dozen left. The children have even commemorated some of them stone, in the nearby harbour... others are rotting away finished, they are gone and their crews with them." The sadness and gentleness of those lines represents the tenor of the entire piece- it may be short but it is poignant- and throughout it runs this line of accordion music, a thread which connects the ships to the sailors and to sentiment.

Sentiment may not be important- who am I to say. But this is a world that we have lost- a world that was passing as this film was being made- a world that cinema came just in time to capture- ten more years and the ships would have sailed for a last time and we would not have this monument to a type of life that endured for hundreds of years. Watching it inspired me with admiration for the skill that sailing required- the number of ropes and knots, the strength of the sailors and the majesty of the ship gliding upon the still waters of the Eastern Atlantic. Obviously there are reasons that this kind of life died- but that is no reason not to admire and appreciate its beauty. Amongst the saddest sights of Jennings' film is the sight of ships rotting in harbours, sailors standing by docks in hope that the age of Drake and Hawkins will return. Captain Dudley running the Alert is filled so Jennings tells us with the poetry of the sea in his soul- for him the ship is alive- a beast for whom he feels affection. It is a nostalgic film- but it portrays something that we will never see again that cinema arrived just in time to capture and that we need to see to understand something of the experience of those who came before us.

This film raises for me one of the strengths of cinema- I'm minded of it when I read James's excellent commentaries on early football- we are incredibly lucky to have these early documentary films- they are amongst the jewels of world cinema. We are incredibly lucky to have early films at all- we can see through them a little of the world that we have lost. Seeing is important because it can tell us things that the greatest book or fullest record cannot- it can bring us face to face with the faces of the past. When I see something like 'Farewell Topsails' I am catapulted into another era in all its immediacy- of course it was authored but it is still authentically from the thirties in a way that the best modern historical drama cannot be- and that gives me a sense of how close the thirties are to us and how strange they are. But it also gives me another sense which is a sadder one- because we stand in the first eddy of the cinematic and televisual age- our great grandchildren will see centuries back. Think of what we have lost- imagine what James could do with a film of football as played before the Association drew up rules in the 1870s, think of what it would be like to see rugby as played before Rugby. Watching 'Farewell Topsails' made me aware of something- this is a film about the decline of the sail but we have nothing from the time that sail was triumphant and dominated shipping- our vision of the past is limited.

I think part of that sense is amongst the reasons Jennings made this film- the commentary definitely suggests it. There is an attempt here to capture something before it dies- so that we can remember it. And I think it succeeds- eight minutes is too short- but this is a visual poem, composed of commentary, shot and music- the accordion plays us in and plays us out, giving it a musical rhyme. The poem though tells a story of how clay made in St Austell is shipped out to Glasgow and London- and how the means of its shipping is the sail boat for now- but how that industry is dying. The story is not the point- the point is the pictures of the sailors waiting on the docks, pulling down the sails and of the proud ships making their way into the night- both metaphorically and literally.

Lift to the Scaffold

The point about Lift to the Scaffold is that it is a film that could only be made in its precise time- it is a postwar film- made about the conflict between the old and the young and even more so between memory and forgetfulness. We open in one of the great scenes of French cinema- an industrialist sits at his desk, and is murdered by one of his employees- a paratrooper- who fought in IndoChina and Algeria. As the paratrooper- Julien- attempts to cover up for this murder, his mistress roams the streets of Paris trying to find him and two youngsters, having stolen his car, set off in it towards a motel at which they will eventually kill two Germans. The story may seem implausible at times- it all hinges on two elementary mistakes by the murderers- a rope left on a balcony and a set of photos forgotten at a shop- but it encapsulates important statements about postwar France and the relationships between youth and age, war and peace.

We have here a quartet of lovers- two in what must be their late twenties, two in what must be their late teens. Malle's observation of the difference between the two couples is acute- the teenage girl and guy are obviously worse matched than their older comrades. The younger woman is actually the most pleasant character in the drama- her boyfriend is a scoundrel without redeeming features. The two older characters are fatally damaged. She has married the industrialist Carala- an amalgam of establishment vices- who profits from war and devastation. He works for Carala- but was formerly a soldier. Carala's contempt for Julien is quite devastating- he calls him an 'angel'- he tells him that paratroopers are angels and mocks his virtues. Julien though has his darker sides- he is a ruthlessly efficient killer, quiet and effective. As for Moreau's character- she is single minded and possessive. Here we have a commentary on youth and age- but more importantly a commentary on the division between the twenty year olds who have been to fight and the teenagers who haven't. You saw it in the 1920s (something C.S. Lewis remorselessly mocks in the Pilgrim's Regress) that men who had not been to war felt that they needed to complain about it more, because they had not fought. Likewise the younger guy in this film seems to need to act the soldier, the brutal murderer, the protester against Algiers and Vietnam, because he was not there. The true face of the war is psychopathic, silent and efficient.

I think this film represents one of the many highs of Jeanne Moreau's career- as an actress she is perfect here. She holds the camera from start to finish with a fine expression of fatalism- but what really captured me was less her interventions in the actual action- she doesn't do that much in the film- than in her soliloquies. Moreau's character is lost for the majority of the film- lost in a labyrinth and attempting to find her lover- either to find him within the walls of mistrust that are built up after their plan goes awry or to find him once the law is closing in around him- once he is taking the lift right to the scaffold. Sherlock Holmes described Irene Adler as 'the woman' and there is a quality of that about Moreau in this film- she is incredibly able, able to disarm the teenagers and deal with the police. But what she is unable to do is to deal with the exigencies of fate- there she is lost within the labyrinth that her love has taken her into. Her love here is an animating force that dominates her- destroys her- it renders her mad, as ignorant to the realities of life as she is to the realities of the cars that race past her on the street as she wonders it searching for Julien.

Over the top of this film is the haunting music of Miles Davis- the music is perhaps itself a character within the movie and ties together the strands into a coherent whole. Moreau's character and the issues of war torn France become a unity which moves irreconcilably towards a close. What Davis's music symbolises is the innate corruption of French society- the society over which Carala presides. Even the police are here seen as corrupt or at least brutal- one of the most effective scenes in the film is a police interview with Julien which displays as well as any scene on film the terror of the tyranny of the state. Julien is surrounded by policemen, whirling around him in the dark, the light is focused on him and they keep on asking the same questions- again and again and again- not letting him relax. Superb cinematography, superb score and the image of encroaching doom combine to make that scene effective: but all of those also place it in the context of a plot where the war has moved from the foreign world of colonial territories, back to the home front where techniques learnt in Algiers, and practiced by the Caralas of the world to make money on the back of broken bones, become the normal instruments of justice.

This is a film with a political message- but its a message for its own times. We may forget how close Europe was to war in the fifties and sixties- watching a film like Lift to the Scaffold reminds us how close it- especially France- was. At the end of the film, the heroine proclaims that her pathological love for Julien will survive her old age- it is entirely true- she thinks she is proclaiming the endless nature of love, in reality she proclaims that the wounds of war and the pathology of the bloodiest century of the human era will be with us for a long time to come.

Livy's view of the death of Maelius

Spurius Maelius had, according to Livy, attempted to use food as a weapon to bring down the Roman Republic. The Senate appointed a dictator to bring him to justice- a dictator who happened to be Lucius Cincinnatus- and Cincinnatus managed to solve the food crisis, confiscate the grain that Maelius had stockpiled, and then he sent for Maelius. Maelius refused to come and was summarily executed by Servilius, who Cincinnatus had sent to take him to the dictator. Cincinnatus then addressed the people of Rome, who had supported Maelius. This speech is interesting- because what Cincinnatus was doing was describing the reason for an illegal act- the murder of Maelius- an act that Livy tells us that some tribunes had attempted to prosecute the perpetrator. (IV 16)

Cincinnatus makes an argument in the forum- that has a contemporary relevance for Livy (something we shall pass onto)- which justifies the action of Servilius. Cincinnatus tells the forum that that Maelius had not been killed for his treachery, for that he would have been tried, but for having 'used force in an attempt to avoid a trial' (IV 14). Cincinnatus goes further and attacks Spurius Maelius's character. He argues that Maelius was not merely a parvenu- but also inexperienced. Whereas Appius Claudius and others might have been rightly killed for their tyrannical ambitions- at least there was some justification in their lineage and acheivements for their high ambition. As Cincinnatus argues that 'He fondly imagined that we, who could hardly think of him as a senator without a pain in the belly, would endure him as a King... why the thing is not merely a crime it is a monstrosity' (IV 15). Cincinnatus's contempt for Maelius's ambition is partly based on aristocratic hauteur and partly upon the basis that Maelius had no desert for it. But the core of the argument lies in the suggestion that the system must be protected against the individual. Maelius's death fits into this ideology wonderfully, as his death was met in opposing the process of judicial inquiry, just as his own political career was devised to destroy judicial inquiry and replace it with tyranny.

Livy's view of this has a contemporary resonance- much of the argument that Cincinnatus makes against Maelius ressembles the arguments that Cicero had put against Catilina. The issues of the late Republic- ambition and its opposition to law- are the issues that Livy wants us to place in the forefront of our mind. Yet again Cincinnatus is here an image of the virtues of the old republic- respect for law, lineage and experience- as opposed to Maelius and possibly others in the more recent past. The 'Maelius' incident substantiates the thesis that there is a connection between tyranny and democracy- but it does something else- Cincinnatus's speech associates (what for Romans was a powerful association) the lineage and experience of the senate with the majesty of the law. In that sense- his speech both defines a kind of republicanism and defines it within a culture that is aristocratic and unequal. What Cincinnatus does here is define a aristocratic republicanism which runs through Livy's history. Because of the connection between the events of the past and present, we could guess that Livy perceived that strand running down even to the Principate itself.

Famine

Modern Industrial society seems impervious to the threat of food shortages: Amartya Sen argued in a famous paper that democracies in particular avoided famine much better than any other regime in the past. Because of this, we forget I think how important the supply of food was to states in the ancient and medieval world. The political system of a state in the ancient world could be grievously affected by issues surrounding the supply of food. Livy chronicles in his fourth book just such a moment in the history of Rome- and it does not take more than a shrewd guess (particularly given the unusual number of temples built at this time) to suggest that Rome during its social conflicts suffered from frequent problems with food supply. The Livyan example is interesting though in its own right.

In the consulship of Proculus Geganius Macerinus and Lucius Menenius Lanatus Livy tells us that Rome suffered a 'black' year 'in almost every respect'. As he suggests 'had war been added to the list of miseries scarcely by all the help of the Gods in heaven could the country have survived' (IV 11). Livy tells us that in this year a famine began- the first thing that is interesting about his statement is that he also tells us what he thinks its causes might have been, either a 'bad season' or that 'the pleasures of city life and the excitement of politics which had kept people from attending to their farms'. (IV 11) It is worth noting this in two ways: firstly because it demonstrates descriptively how Livy thought about famine- it could be the product of a moral judgement upon those that suffered it- hence in the end it could bring into question the actual basis of the city. Furthermore the idea that Romans faced famine because they spent their time arguing about politics- brings up in an ancient context a very real problem with democracy- it is, unlike most other activities, something in which the division of labour does not function and consequently it creates an issue with people's attention either being diverted from their job to be a citizen, or sleepwalking into disaster, whilst doing their job professionally.

Livy's discussion of the famine though goes further- and what he describes are the limitations of an ancient world state in confronting a terrible moment in its history. He describes the poor flinging themselves into the Tiber to avoid starvation by drowning. The problem for an ancient state in confronting this famine was two fold. Firstly as we learn from Livy, the methods they had of dealing with it were not really adequate. Lucius Minucius (appointed Controller of Supplies) went round neighbouring states attempting to get corn, he forced people to declare their stocks, diminished the rations for slaves and roused popular feeling against speculators (IV 12). But as Livy declares 'these inquisitorial methods did less to relieve the scarcity than to reveal its extent'.

There was a second kind of response to the famine- which brought into question the stability of the Roman state. Spurius Maelius, a knight, bought up stocks of corn in Etruria (which as Livy says stopped the government buying the corn) and used it to obtain a following in order to mount an attempt upon the crown. His 'generosity won their [the poor's] hearts and crowds of them followed him wherever he went' (IV 13). Livy tells us through the mouth of Minucius that Maelius had bribed the tribunes and assigned the mob leaders tasks (IV 13)- this comes from a senatorial source, and rather than accepting it, it is worth remembering what Livy said earlier about the poor and their food supply. Essentially Maelius got their support through distributing grain- and his political following was a consequence of his wealth and potentially his support in Etruria (Livy just a page before gave us an example of Rome supporting a faction in a town for its own political ends (IV 9-9), I do not think it implausible that Etruria was returning the favour by using famine as a weapon against Rome). Maelius's rebellion failed because a dictator- Cincinnatus making his return- was appointed and arrested and executed Maelius before he could gather his forces. But it is an interesting incident that reveals how vulnerable the Roman state was to its food supply.

Ultimately Rome was a society of a number of wealthy people surrounded by the poor- who were dependent on the harvest. We do not understand the dynamics of its politics unless we understand the problems that a bad harvest presented. As we have noted, the poor were the military strength of Rome's armies- numerically more various than the patricians. Of course the principle danger to the patricians lay in a strike from the poor when another state's army attacked Rome. But there was another danger- in a famine food became a means to control the populace- and as in the case of this famine if the patricians lost control of the food supply, they ceded the loyalty of the plebeians to the controller of that supply. Livy understood this which is why he believed that the revolt of Maelius was so severe- it also points out to me the advantages of empire- we see it so often as a negative, but the scale of empire permitted a politics which was not driven by the harvests in particular small areas. In the days of empire, Rome was supplied by the grain fields of Africa and Egypt- in the days that we are discussing here Rome's stability rested upon whether a harvest succeeded or failed- failure could lead to revolution and civil war- empire addressed that weakness.

Ethical Encounters: Brief Encounter

"Nothing lasts" says Laura Jesson to herself, "this misery can't last". Brief Encounter is a film about time and feeling- the encounter between Laura and Alec is brief but briefness shoots through the entire film. Even as viewers we can feel this hour and a half like an interlude of dreams, punctuated by the sweeping music of Rachmaninov and the voice of Celia Johnston, clipped, English and very emotional. As a movie it does not seem to move so much as to exist- to exist like a dream exists as an alternative but temporary state. After the film, you and the characters are in exactly the same position- as Fred says to Laura at the end 'you have been a long way away, thank you for coming back to me'. We have all been a long way away watching Brief Encounter- and as I will discuss later in this article that distance that we've been is important.

Brief Encounter is about the meeting between a woman and a man. They are both married and after a small set of meetings- five in all- they decide never to meet again. To give away the story is really to give away nothing- because this is a film about an issue and an atmosphere. The atmosphere is created by incredible acting and direction. Let us start with the acting- both Trevor Howard and Celia Johnson have been praised endlessly for this film- that praise is well deserved. Johnson in particular scarcely has the camera off her- much of the film is spent with the director staring straight into her eyes as they flicker round a train carriage, or sink to the floor in despair or light up with the excitement of dreams of love. Howard too does well- he is suave and smooth as he needs to be. It is the direction though which is often less praised but deserves more- one impeccable shot which I've used as an illustration above demonstrates in my view the perfection of Lean's work. Laura is at home feeling guilty about deceiving her husband about where she was that afternoon- she stares in the mirror and what we look with her into the mirror and see what she sees, a woman wracked by guilt. It is a very subtle way of literally getting you to see Laura's position from her point of view but it is incredibly effective.

If that was all, perfect technical ability made manifest on the screen then the film would sit in the category of well made but insignificant but this is not such a simple or irrelevant film. I have told the basics of the story already but there are a couple of issues opened up within the film that need more analysis to elucidate the issues involved. The film pivots around Laura and her relationship with her husband and with Alec her possible lover (I will use the word 'lover' from now on despite the fact that they go no further than a quick kiss). Laura trusts her husband- she wishes she could tell him everything as he is so kind and gentle. She comes across Alec in a cafe and then in the street and she finds him exciting, kind and intelligent- she finds him the epitome of the kind of man that she would have loved to marry as a girl. She describes her feelings towards him as a girlish fantasy- to marry the idealistic doctor- in a sense he ressembles the hero of Agnes Grey, Mr Weston, but modernised. The film is about whether she should leave her husband or not- she does not in the end and it is evident by the end of the movie that here we have an argument for her decision. Throughout the film we are reminded that Laura has people she must look after- her children- and right at the end, Lean makes sure that we see that her husband, though unromantic, does care deeply for her. We never see as much of Alec- though we are invited to remember his two sons and delicate wife (it is significant that we are told about both of them) and invited to see his life as a mirror to Laura's.

The second question is about the morality of Laura and Alec. How should we see them? The fact they have sex has nothing to do with the question of their morality- the interchange of bodily fluids is the culmination of a process at whose heart is emotional infidelity. That is why Laura cannot tell her husband about what has happened- because it would hurt him to know that she desired and felt happy in the company of another man. From Laura's account Alec comes off as the instigator- but that is afterall her perception of events and we do not have his. Around these two figures are gathered other figures within society- Alec's friend who despises Alec when he finds the two of them in his flat, Laura's friends who gossip about her or who annoy her. Alec's friend, Stephen, is the least morally repugnant- expressing disappointment with Alec's behaviour. Laura's friend Mary Norton seems though to revel in sin as an opportunity to gossip nastily. Stephen and Mary embody different responses- to publicly tell the person of your displeasure and then remain silent in the interests of the family unit (Stephen) or to avoid confrontation, enjoy the titillating spectacle of sin and gossip about it maliciously (Mary). Lean wants us to see how unsympathetic society can be to these lovers: but also in Stephen's dialogue with Alec he wants us to see the love affair from the outside- he wants us to see the sordid nature of this magic.

Our focus though must remain on the central pair- they are constrained by their society in the sense that they cannot abandon their spouses- but as we see with Laura abandoning her spouse would be an act of selfishness. What this film gets at, what I think that Lean gets, is that life is made of patterns- strings between individuals- and that when we snap those strings or rearrange those passions we can bring great suffering to everyone involved. We can break hearts and worse. Human beings are fragile and human life is fragile- we have a brief encounter with the world- what Laura comes to realise is that had she world enough and time, she would end up with Alec. As we shall discuss in my next post there are good reasons for Laura to be disappointed with life- one of the reasons I'd guess that Alec is not the focus of the film is that Laura's life is drab and boring, a round of visits to the local county town and lunches with Mary Norton. But Lean's argument is that even despite that, she has things to lose by leaving- the tragedy is greater because these two people cannot be together.

I do not think he makes this argument easily. This film is sad for a reason- and its quite possible to come out of it thinking that the lovers have lost too much by abandoning each other. As Isaiah Berlin argued every choice can be a tragedy. "Nothing lasts" can seem like a reinforcement of the idea that Laura thinks everything will last- and that the love affair will colour the rest of her life as the film colours the rest of ours. I think the moment in which her husband wakes her from the dream is crucial though- because when he wakes her and thanks her for coming back, I think that is symbolic both of the end of the dream of the film but also of the end of the dream of her love. She has woken up, as has Alec, and that must be good, mustn't it?

Workers and Jobs (1935)

Arthur Elton's Workers and Jobs was made at the height of the Great Depression in 1935. The then unemployment rate in the UK was incredibly high. Elton's film was made with the cooperation of Poplar Employment Exchange- it was made to illustrate the virtues of the employment exchange both to employees and principally to employers. The working men are shown in the film to be trained, good workers, quiet and disciplined. They queu towards the desk in the exchange without mumbling or grumbling as others are sent to the jobs that they might want. Furthermore the exchange is shown to be an efficient way of acquiring labour for businesses. I want to highlight two things about the way that the Labour Exchange worked that give us an insight into the economies of the 1930s.

Firstly it is noticable that as the introduction to the film states there are at least 15,000 types of work- domestic, industrial and clerical- that men and women can do. We see the employment exchanges taking notes on the applicants- their experience, their competence- what say a machine tool repairer has experience repairing or what kind of tailor this person is. Then they match them to employers. Its a fascinating lesson in the variety and division of labour within the economy- and the difficulty of matching workers to jobs. I suspect of course that the labour exchanges were not this efficient- Arthur Elton was making an advertisment for them- but what he demonstrates is rather that the economy by the 1930s was already highly specialised- as the introductory voice over says the costs of hiring the wrong person for a job were high.

My second point is that the Labour exchange of the thirties looks completely inefficient compared to a modern operation. As you can see in the still above, the model was based on telephoning other labour exchanges to check their vacancies. All the exchange functions on the back of card files- and remember this is an efficient exchange on show in a film whose purpose is advertising- one wonders about the status of those card files and how many records got lost. Furthermore printed sheets are sent out to other exchanges at the end of the day with unfilled vacancies on them- again the potential for misplacing, misrecording and simply destroying accidentally records must have been high. An organisation in the thirties could not afford anything better- but it is interesting to imagine how different a similar organisation would be today.

This kind of documentary is fascinating- just looking at the faces of these long dead normal people doing their business gives me a thrill. But I think it is also useful for seeing both how similar and how different the experience of the thirties is from today's. President Bush and others have said that our economy is teetering on the edge of another Great Depression- it is beyond my competence to say whether that is true or not- but if it is true, I suspect that the way that our society goes through that experience will be very different to the way that our grandparents and their parents did in the thirties. Not least because though they lived in a complex economy, they lived in a much more local and much less computerised one.

A disgraceful incident

Those are Livy's words about an event that happened soon after the Decemvirs fell, in the consulship of Titus Quinctius Capitolinus and Furius Agrippa. Rome was asked to arbitrate between two cities within Latium, Ardea and Aricia, about a piece of land that both cities claimed to be theirs, and 'for which the two towns had fought so often they were exhausted' (III 70). In the midst of the discussions in the forum, conducted it seems by the people under the tribunes, an aged Roman Publius Scapita, rose to his feet and began speaking. Scapita told the assembly that the land that Ardea and Aricia were claiming was originally the property of another town- Corioli- and as Corioli had been conquered by Rome, that territory ought to have gone with the city that had been conquered. This speech was listened to by the crowd with a 'high measure of approval' and despite the arguments of the consuls, 'cupidity prevailed' and Rome claimed the land. (III 72)

This 'disgraceful incident' is interesting- because of two things. Firstly it exposes how the Roman Constitution may have worked- and secondly it exposes what Livy thought of justice. Let us begin with the first consideration. I have mentioned before that we seem in the Roman world to be in a situation where the judiciary and the executive are separated- the judiciary rests in the people, the executive and legislature in the senate and consuls. That's a broad generalisation and does not fully work- but what we can establish in this case is that quite complicated questions of international law were resolved by the assembly of the people, in great contrast to what is done today in most if not all democracies. The people were the court. The reasons for this are not difficult to work out- many of those within the assembly would have had knowledge of other parts of Latium and possibly Italy- Scapita would not have been alone in having visited in the army the places that they talked about in the assembly. Scapita's evidence is interesting- obviously (and Livy agrees with this) there was an accepted right of conquest that allowed a city to claim a territory that had belonged to a vanquished enemy. (III 72)

Livy though thinks that the case that Scapita outlines was an unjust one. The reason that Livy gives for the decision to be regarded as unjust was a simple one. He argued that 'for an arbitrator to convert disputed land to his own use was a crime revolting in itself, and would set a precedent even worse' (III 72). Livy cites the senators arguing that Rome would lose Ardea and Aricia's friendship and lose its reputation not to mention its honour through these proceedings. (III 72) Livy, we have seen, opposed the idea of judging one's own cause- and in a sense this is the beginning of a critique of empire- as soon as the Roman populace become sovereign over territories which are not free or seek their arbitration, the temptation to judge in their own interest as they have the power becomes tyrannical. Livy here may be indicating some of the dangers to the Republic that will flow from its expansion- dangers to the very conception of a just and honourable republic. In that sense the incident fits into a narrative which sees the empire as the product of virtue (ie rising military strength) and the incubator of the decline both of virtue and ultimately of the city.

These arguments lead I think to an account of Rome which emphasizes the dynamic between expansion and democracy- and the ways in which Rome's character as a republic changes as the empire advances. One could even make the argument based on this case that Rome's transition from a Republic to an Empire is a transition from a Republic to a Tyranny of the citizen over the subject- an arrangement which might naturally lead to a habit of subjection and eventually to the Imperium. It is a speculation but in this case, I think we have an indication of one of the pattern that Livy sees underlying the last years of the Republic and first of the Principate.