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The Melancholy of Ruins |
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written
by leahs2 / 10.24.2005 |
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| melancholy of the antique world |
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Part 1: |
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Ancient Romans saw immortality in the memory of the dead by the living rather than in the ascent to an afterlife. After death a “black hole” is infinity; beliefs of an afterlife were uncertain and gloomy. Thus, the only way to gain immortality was by being remembered in the minds of the living. The achievement of immortality can be made through glory or renown. One example is the characters Hector and Achilles from “The Iliad.” The stories of the great men were passed on orally, recorded on paper by Homer, and today read in many high schools and colleges. The two men are kept alive through the continuous recount of their stories and stay alive in the minds of the readers. Another primary way to achieve immortality was through the construction of a great building or monument. The pieces will always be attributed to the builder; as long as a piece stands and people can experience it, the life of the builder is remembered and s/he remains immortal. For example, the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine was begun by Maxentius and finished by Constantine. As long as Romans recognize and honor the building, these men will remain immortal.
However, over the ages even the most grand and well-constructed buildings crumble. The Forum as a whole is a mass of rubble and partially standing structures: for many only foundations are left. Of the original Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, only three vaults of the north aisle remain; the majority of the building, including the vaults of the south and central nave has since collapsed. This destruction of the ancients’ wish to remain immortal is the “melancholy of the antique world.” No matter how well-intentioned the original creator was, the sacking of Rome by the Goths in August of 410 CE, or the earthquake that destroyed buildings in 847 CE, or scavenging by thieves in early years . . . any number of events lead to the dissimilation of the once grand Roman Forum.
Thus the tragedy of the remains of the Roman Forum is the promise that the immortality of many great rulers has been denied and they have been condemned to the “black hole.” A distinct air of sadness and melancholy hangs over the ruins of the Forum. Beyond these implications for the ancient Romans, the destruction of the once great, indestructible civilization points to the possibility of our own demise. “When we contemplate ruins, we contemplate our own future. To statesmen, ruins predict the fall of empires, and to philosophers the futility of mortal man’s aspirations” (Woodward, 60, "Smiles of Rome") Power appears to be slippery and fluid – even when making the greatest claims to immortality (by creating a grand building), lasting power and memory is not assured. “If such a colossus as Rome can crumble – its ruins ask – why not London or New York?” (Woodward, 60, "Smiles of Rome") Our own mortality is put into keen perspective because the ruins indicate that time can destroy any human creation.
And yet a final note: even in melancholy, hope remains. The foundations of parts of the forum remain; the grandeur and magnificence of the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine is still obvious when standing on the site. And most importantly, Maxentius and Constantine are remembered in history books, guide-books, historical documents, and the thoughts of the visitor. While the lives of many great leaders are no longer recounted, the stories of many others are still being discovered. The remains of the Roman Forum force the visitor remember the grandeur of the Roman Empire; even in its ruins, the Roman Empire is immortal.
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Part 2: |
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The ruins of Pompeii mark a civilization frozen in time by destruction. The historical value to understanding early Roman society is undeniable, yet the severe tragedy of an annihilated society permeates every building and street. Our experience and appreciation of the ruins of Pompeii is made available by the massive tragedy of a city and marks the air with silent and knowing sadness.
Our visit to Pompeii uncannily coincided with the destruction of New Orleans by Hurricane Katrina in September 2005. Even in our advanced technological state, massive destruction and devastation was not avoided. Natural disasters caused the tragedy of lost lives and homes to different extents in New Orleans, Pompeii, and the Forum; even the most powerful nations of the world can not halt some destructions.
The ruins at Paestum spoke to me in a very different way than the Forum or Pompeii. The early Greek temples dated to 500 BCE and carried an air of proud majesty even in their bare stone form. This was the least busy of the three sites, and my exploration of the ruins was personal and interactive: I could circle the temples un-assailed and I could dance in the amphitheater unwatched. This place has gone through many forms: Greek decorated temple, Roman temple, Roman Christian temple, and Greek stripped temple (ruins). Our narrative of Paestum is of the ingenious architectural feats (that are still visible) rather than any disastrous natural or human events (that may well have occurred). We came to study and honor the ruins in their present form; to enjoy the soft melancholy of a land well loved.
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