"It has always
been preferable to attribute a woman's success to her beauty rather to her
brains, to reduce her to the sum of her sex life"
By Gamal Nkrumah |
Stacy Schiff
Winner of the Pulitzer
Prize
Alexandria lets you
indulge in its collective allegories and epics. From one particular historical
point of view the legends are intact. From another no less academic viewpoint
everything is unraveling -- from Rome to Tarsus, and Saint Mark could be
turning in his grave. A heroic queen can become a coward and a saucy but stern
blue-blood, a seductress. The story of the city lingers long at this historical
juncture as the author takes up the narration, and in her version of
Alexandria, Cleopatra's first encounter with Ceasar isn't so seamless. She
isn't even one of his fans. As for Mark Anthony, he is an object of devotion,
even prodigious desire.
There is sometimes a
'message in a bottle' allure about political personalities that elude their
proper place in history. Cleopatra was born in 69 BC, the second of three
daughters was the celebrated and legendary last queen of Egypt. She is
remembered to this day as an illustrious temptress of mighty Roman men of war.
Cleopatra VII's sisters -- the elder Berenice and the younger Arsinoe -- were
two such no less wily women who somehow eluded their proper place in history.
Why this is so is left, I suppose, to the reader's conjecture. However,
questions of historical relevance must be addressed.
As a pretender to the
Ptolomaic throne in the absence of her father in Rome, the elder sister was
executed upon Auletes' triumphal return. His fame as a fabulously wealthy
Ptolomy did not however ensure a proper place for him in history. He was after
all, Auletes the Piper. He was "the pharaoh who piped his way while Egypt
collapsed."
Yet it was his dutiful
daughter who presided over the Ptolemaic dynasty's ruin. A feat that ironically
assured that she acquired a proper place in history. Cleopatra VII ingratiated
herself with her father, playing the devoted daughter and winning his
affections. She was the apple of Auletes' eye.
Her heart-wrenching
suicide with the asp, notwithstanding, she alone among his offspring maximised
her symbolic appeal. Her younger sister Arsinoe IV, however, was assassinated
at her sinister sister's bequest on the majestic marble floors of a famous
temple in Ephesus. It is worth remembering that Arsinoe was no less deleterious
than her more distinguished sister was.
Wealth, breeding,
education and leisure turned the privileged Ptolomaic sisters into reluctant
monsters. Cleopatra VII married and murdered her two brothers.
The three sisters had
far more in common than accounts written without the benefit of hindsight
suggest. The three sisters were seasoned politicians, ruthless assassins and
diehard risk takers and gamblers. They all met appalling, albeit dubiously
dignified ends. Cleopatra VII, though, was the only one of her sisters to be
obliged to find ways of negotiating life with the Romans, and this guaranteed
her immortality.
Her sisters sunk into
oblivion. Perhaps they were prettier? We do not know. On the basis of works
past and present published about the three sisters, hardly anyone outside the
field of Egyptology would have heard of Cleopatra VII's sisters.
"The Ptolemies
did future historians no favours in terms of nomenclature; all the royal women
were Arsinoes, Berenices or Cleopatras. They are more easily identified by
their grisly misdeeds than by their names," the author glumly points out.
Moreover, faux
populism magnificently staged by moneyed monarchs was the order of the day.
"Cleopatra's great-grandmother fought one civil war against her parents, a
second against her children."
Cleopatra literally
means in Greek "Glory of Her Fatherland". However, she was as the
author so poignantly pointed out "neither Egyptian, nor historically
speaking a pharaoh, nor necessarily related to Alexander the Great, nor even
fully a Ptolemy." She was the very embodiment of the notion of the tragique
solaire of Camus in the first lines of his celebrated L'étranger.
The Ptolomaic empress
was preoccupied with expanding her imperial power and so had shrilly sung
Rome's praises. Cleopatra was uncertain, though, as to whether she did or did
not need their company.
The pages of this
seminal work turn easily, although each reference used is given. The Cleopatra
of Shakespeare, Elisabeth Taylor and Richard Burton, and the boisterously
entertaining British Carry on Cleo contingent was something of a femme
fatale. Disappointingly perhaps, historical evidence suggests that she was
more of a belle laide. Florence Nightingale referred to her as 'that
disgusting Cleopatra.'
"Offering her the
movie role, Cecil DeMille is said to have asked Claudette Colbert, 'How would
you like to be the wickedest woman in history?' Cleopatra stars even in a 1928
book called Sinners Down the Centuries. In the match between the lady
and the legend there is no contest."
Cleopatra: A Life points out in a myriad of entertaining
ways, this love-hate relationship between East and West, the southern shores of
the Mediterranean and its northern rim that stretches back through the
millennia. Cleopatra's suicide was a defining moment, ironically an inglorious
episode on both sides. There was nothing that Cleopatra's Egypt needed other
than protection. But there was plenty that the Romans coveted in Egypt. The
exotic country was a trophy that greatly benefited the Roman exchequer and the
legionnaires who grafted on it.
Disconcertingly,
Cleopatra came to the crumbling Ptolemaic throne when Egypt was long past its
prime. Yet Egypt had, like its queen, irresistible charms.
So she was not
Egyptian? Indeed, to decipher the essence of being Egyptian entails unraveling
the very identity of Cleopatra VII. Given the time scale of Egyptian history,
Cleopatra is closer chronologically if not culturally to contemporary Egyptians
than to the kings and queens of the period of Pharaonic pyramids.
Never before had a
Ptolemaic woman held such a powerful position in Egypt, not since the
male-dominated days of Alexander the Great. However, as the author so
poignantly points out, her power was ephemeral. "Her very wealth -- the
same wealth that had fed Rome during the triumphs -- impugned her morals."
She blazed a path that none of her progeny was to pursue.
Cleopatra was prized
as a potent Niloticfemale watershed. Her incestuous familial background did not
hinder her ambitious plans for the realm she reigned over. She elegantly
side-stepped the bickering between her brothers and sisters, buttressed by a
widespread reputation for competence and her considerable charm. With Egypt
teetering on the edge of turmoil, she was closely watched by her Roman
tormentors. Her Roman men of admirable exploits met horrendous ends. She held
real power but she could not make a difference to Egypt's fate. She continued
her rise unabated ridding herself of her rival siblings. She rose quickly
though the Ptolemaic ranks, impressing everyone -- Egyptian and Roman -- with
her dogged determination.
Cleopatra herself
lamented this pattern, juggling princely children -- at least one of them,
Caesarion Ptolemy XV, was deified -- and a royal career. At least she was not
forced as her father and some of her less illustrious ancestors were, to
slaughter her own offspring. However, in her late teens, a formative event
occurred that was to change the course of her life. She met Julius Caesar.
After her last man of distinguished valour, Mark Anthony, was butchered in
battle, she breathed her last.
Her father, Auletes,
the Piper, after the oboe- like instrument he was fond of playing, got rid of
his rebellious elder daughter, Berenice. The ugly experience taught her not to
hold her breath.
Cleopatra had a hand
in the slaying of her own younger sister Arsinoe. In that role, as murderess,
she swiftly won numerous plaudits across the Mediterranean world.
The glamorous
seductress displayed a determined willingness to be a little bolder than most
of the women of her day. "News that the enterprising Queen of Egypt had
borne a son named Alexander -- whose father was Mark Anthony and whose
half-brother was a child of Caesar -- constituted a banner headline in 39
BC."
As a Macedonian dynast
she continued to promote the wider cause of Egypt even as she flirted with
Rome. She exhibited an authoritative air of superiority, even when dealing with
her Roman protectors. Presumably she was always attentive to how she looked.
"Perfumes and unguents were Alexandrian specialties, attendants sprinkled
cinnamon and cardamom and balsam perfumes on banqueters' crowns as musicians
played or storytellers performed. Fragrance rippled not only from the table but
from jewelry, perfumed lamps, soles of shoes; the heavy scents of the oils
inevitably flavoured the dinner."
Cleopatra realised
that the days when she could, as queen of Egypt dominate the agenda of the
Mediterranean were long gone. The Romans were here to stay. The East was over,
and the West was in the ascendant. Yet the East was no write-off.
"Tables glinted
with silver basins, pitchers, hundreds of candelabra. Blown glass was a
Hellenistic invention on which Alexandria had worked its usual magic, gilding
already elaborate lily; the city's glassblowers threaded gold into their work.
On the table polychromatic vessels joined silver platters, woven ivory
breadbaskets, jewel-encrusted tumblers."
"That tableware
showcased both Cleopatra's adaptability and her competitive instinct. When
Alexandrian luxury began to make itself felt in the Roman world, Cleopatra
renamed her ostentatious tableware. Her elaborate gold and silver place
settings became her 'ordinary ware'".
Cleopatra, like her
father before her, knew that ruling Egypt was no easy task. Egyptians were a
religious and a rebellious lot. "Auletes knew only too well what Caesar
was discovering first hand: the Alexandrian populace constituted a force unto
itself. The best thing you could say of that people was that they were
sharp-witted. Their humour was quick and biting. They were mad for drama, as
the city's four hundred theatres suggested. They were no less sharp-elbowed.
The genius for entertainment extended to a taste for intrigue, a propensity to
riot."
Stacy Schiff's seminal
study of Cleopatra coincides with the publication of two other works on the
fabled Egyptian queen. Anthony and Cleopatra by Adrian Goldsworthy,
Weidenfeld and Nicholson and Cleopatra: A Biography by Duane Roller,
Oxford University Press, are two other works that illuminate further the life
and times of Cleopatra. Yet Schiff's treatise is, in my opinion, the most
articulate reference work of the three. The main problem with Cleopatra is that
too few people understand the context in which she reigned and hence misunderstood
who she really was and what she stood for.
"Cleopatra was
detested by the Alexandrian Greeks and loved by native Egyptians," Schiff
explains. "Their feelings about Romans were equally clear: When Cleopatra
was nine or ten, a visiting official had accidentally killed a cat, an animal
held sacred in Egypt. A furious mob assembled with whom Auletes' representative
attempted to reason. He could not save the visitor from the bloodthirsty
crowd,"
"Behind every
great fortune, it has been noted, is a crime; the Ptolemies were fabulously
rich. They were descended not from the Egyptian pharaohs whose place they
assumed but from the scrappy, hard-living Macedonians... who produced Alexander
the Great." Cleopatra, like her ancestors, embarked on an inclusion drive
that was supposed to transform her into a native Egyptian goddess.
After a protracted
struggle, the ancestor of the Ptolemies transformed Egypt into a steadying
force for the Mediterranean world. Cleopatra was the last of the adventurous
line, when she lost the battle to keep Egypt as a family heirloom to Caesar's
own adopted son Octavian, or Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus. His assertions of an
austere lifestyle contrasted sharply with her ostentatious living.
By any measure you,
the reader, might chose, Egypt prospered since Cleopatra was crowned the
country's queen. She manipulated her blue blood pedigree to perfection.
"The legitimacy of the Ptolomaic dynasty would rest on this tenuous
connection to the most storied figure in the ancient world, the one against
whom all aspirants measured themselves, in whose mantle Pompey had wrapped
himself, whose feats were said to reduce Caesar to tears of inadequacy."
For all that, who were
her acclaimed ancestors? "Within months of Alexander's death, Ptolemy --
the most enterprising of his generals, ... a childhood intimate ... had laid
claim to Egypt. In an early gift for stagecraft, Ptolemy kidnapped Alexander's
body. It had been headed for Macedonia. Would it not be far more useful,
reasoned young Ptolomy, intercepting the funeral cortege, in Egypt, ultimately
in Alexandria, a city the great man himself had founded only decades
earlier?" Indeed, as Schiff so clearly illustrates, all that mattered was
Cleopatra's affiliation to the great Macedonian warlord who vanquished the
ancient world. "The cult [of Alexander the Great] was universal. Alexander
played as active a role in the Ptolomaic imagination as in the Roman one."
Sibling rivalry was an
ever-present threat. "Cleopatra and the brother from whom she was running
for her life were the Theoi Neoi Philadelphoi, or New Siblin-Loving Gods."
Unlike her sisters, she was committed to family life and was faithful to her
father. She learnt a great deal from his personal experiences. "She had a
chance to embrace the wisdom of her father, who on arrival in Egypt had made a
point of paying tribute to the native gods, in small villages and at cult
centres. To do so was to secure the devotion of the Egyptian population."
The Egyptians happily
obliged. "They revered their pharaoh as thoroughly as the unruly
Alexandrians tested him," Schiff notes. "Cleopatra needed the support
and the manpower, of the indigenous population," she stresses. "The
Romans looked wearily upon the endless procession of applicants, abused or not.
They received their petitions and made few decisions. At one point the Senate
went so far as to outlaw the hearing of their appeals," . "There was
no reason to adopt a consistent foreign policy. As for the bewildering question
of Egypt, some felt that that country would be best transformed into a housing
project for Rome's poor."
Cleopatra appears to
be a very left-brain driven queen. She was smart. "Alexandria had its fair
share of female mathematicians, doctors, painters, and poets," the author
critically observes. "This did not mean such women were above suspicion.
As always, an educated woman was a dangerous woman. But she was less a source
of discomfort in Egypt," she adds analytically.
"For a staggering
sum of money, Cleopatra's father had secured the official designation 'friend
and ally of the Roman people," the author admits, thus like his daughter
he married the extreme left with the extreme right of the brain.
"An aesthete and
a patron of the arts under whom Alexandria enjoyed the beginnings of an
intellectual revival, Auletes saw to it that his daughter received a first-rate
education," the author notes. "While girls were by no means
universally educated, they headed off to schools, entered poetry competitions,
became scholars. More than a few well-born first century daughters -- including
those not groomed for thrones -- went far enough in their studies, if not all
the way to vigorous training," she remarks.
Indeed, hieroglyphics
actually meant boasting made permanent. "Cleopatra could single- handedly
feed Rome. The reverse was also true; she could starve that city if she cared
to." Cleopatra could control Egypt, but did she have the political acumen
to handle Rome? She fell for Caesar, or rather he was infatuated with her. "A
stable Egypt was as critical to his plans as to Cleopatra's. Nearly alone in
the Mediterranean, Egypt provided more grain than it consumed."
Puncturing the myth,
the moral of Cleopatra's story is that she could point to unsuccessful phases
of her career as queen of Egypt, especially when she was out of the country.
"She lived these months in Latin; whatever her proficiency in that
language, she discovered that certain concepts do not translate. Even the sense
of humour was different., broad and salty in Rome where it was ironic and
allusive in Alexandria. Literal-minded, the Romans took themselves seriously.
Alexandrian irreverence and exuberance were in scant supply."
For all that,
"Cleopatra came of age in a country that entertained a singular definition
of women's roles."
Egyptian women were
unique among the women of ancient peoples in that they retained the power of a
matrilineal society. She refused, however, to succumb to a very right-brain
driven creativity, metamorphosing into a queen whose reputation is rich in
anecdote, much of it deriving from her erotically appealing repartees. "We
have ample testimony to her sense of humour; Cleopatra was a wit and a
prankster."
No comments:
Post a Comment