Beyond the Greeks: Unearthing Rome's Gritty, Glorious Embrace of Same-Sex Desire
For centuries, the conversation around ancient same-sex relationships has often been dominated by the idealized, almost ethereal portrayals of love found in ancient Greece. Philosophers waxed lyrical, writers penned tender verses, and a romanticized ideal took hold. But what if the reality of queer lives in antiquity was far more complex, far more raw, and, dare we say, far more liberatory? Step aside, gentle Greek poets; it's time to shine a spotlight on the Romans, whose approach to sexuality, while perhaps less polished, offered a broader, more inclusive spectrum of erotic possibilities. For many, the mention of Rome and homosexuality conjures images of decadent emperors, riotous orgies, and the infamous Nero, a ruler known for his marriages to both men and women, and a willingness to explore both the penetrative and receptive roles in sexual encounters. Works like Petronius's Satyricon, with its notorious depictions of Roman excess, and the poetry of Catullus, Juvenal, and Martial, which blended tender affections with shocking sexual imagery, have often cemented this perception of licentiousness and depravity. But to dismiss Roman attitudes as mere debauchery is to miss a crucial, and often overlooked, aspect of their legacy. While Greek ideals often served as a public justification for the elevation of male companionship, presenting a somewhat "bloodless" model of respectable love, Rome offered a far more variegated and, in many ways, more authentic expression of human desire. It was a society that, for all its moral pronouncements and public criticisms, allowed for a far greater "queer" range of erotic interactions, where love and sex weren't always mutually exclusive.
The Roman Citizen: Dominance, Desire, and Double Standards
One of the most fascinating aspects of Roman attitudes towards same-sex relationships was the prevailing social dynamic. Roman men were, for the most part, free to engage in sexual activity with other men without a significant perceived loss of masculinity or social standing. The crucial caveat? They had to occupy the dominant, penetrative role. This wasn't just a preference; it was a deeply ingrained societal expectation. To be penetrated, or to engage in acts considered passive, was seen as unbefitting a Roman citizen, particularly one who was a warrior and a conqueror. This societal norm played out in various ways. We know, for instance, of the accusations leveled against a young Julius Caesar, who was reportedly linked to the King of Bithynia during his exile. Such associations, while potentially scandalous to some, also highlight the complex interplay of power and intimacy in Roman society. Even within the rigid structure of the legions, where homosexual activity was viewed with particular suspicion due to its potential for abuse, evidence suggests that relationships between soldiers were not uncommon, often fulfilling a need for companionship and intimacy in the harsh realities of military life. Indeed, the Roman army, often a crucible of intense male bonding, was not immune to same-sex relationships. While authorities certainly worried about the potential for pederasty, the bonds formed between soldiers, often forged in shared hardship and life-or-death situations, could easily evolve into more intimate connections. The narrative of a major scandal in the Roman army around the turn of the 2nd and 1st centuries BCE, involving Gaius Marius, sheds light on the punishments meted out for perceived transgressions. When a soldier resisted an attempted rape by his superior, leading to the soldier killing the officer in self-defense, Marius's judgment-awarding the legionary and condemning his nephew's actions-reveals a complex understanding of honor and power within the military context. For those not bound by the strictures of citizenship, or for those who occupied less dominant social positions, the landscape was different. Slaves and servants were frequently the objects of Roman citizens' desires, blurring the lines between ownership and intimacy. Brothels, known as lupanars, also catered to a clientele seeking sexual encounters with young men, further demonstrating the diverse avenues through which same-sex desire was expressed and fulfilled.
Beyond the Male Gaze: Rome's Impact on Queer Lives
While much of the historical record focuses on male relationships, the influence of Rome extended to women as well, albeit for a more select group. Anne Lister, the intrepid diarist of Shibden Hall, famously known from the series Gentleman Jack, turned to Roman literature for inspiration and understanding in her own same-sex relationships. Having studied Greek and Latin, Lister found Roman examples particularly resonant when navigating her romantic pursuits. She recognized that, much like the broader spectrum of male desires, Roman society offered a richer palette of possibilities for women seeking connections outside heterosexual norms. This sentiment echoes in modern queer history. The anonymous, clandestinely circulated erotic novel Teleny, often attributed to Oscar Wilde, overtly celebrates a love that emulates Roman homosexuality. The novel is replete with references to Roman sexual practices and imagery, including cross-dressing men titillated by paintings that evoke the explicit frescoes of Roman orgies. Wilde himself, while navigating the public constraints of Victorian society, privately admired the "pleasingly decadent" model offered by Rome and figures like Nero. This duality - a public persona and a private life where desire could be explored more freely - was a common thread for many. John Addington Symonds, a prominent activist who publicly championed Greek virtue, revealed a far less prudish attitude in his private diaries. In describing an encounter with a male lover, he seamlessly switched from English to Latin, employing the very language of ancient Rome as a clandestine means of discussing sexuality, a private language understood by a select few. This use of Latin as a secret code for discussing forbidden desires highlights the enduring power of Rome's linguistic and cultural legacy in shaping queer expression.
More Than Just "Tolerance": Embracing the Messiness of Desire
The notion that Roman society "tolerated" homosexuality is, in many ways, an understatement. While the strictures of citizen dominance were certainly present, Rome's engagement with same-sex desire was far more dynamic and inclusive than a simple endorsement of "tolerance." It was a society that, while often demonizing "vice" for political convenience, also provided a positive model for those who didn't feel the need to apologize for their desires. The Romans demonstrated that love and sex didn't have to be confined to rigid definitions. Their embrace of a broader range of erotic possibilities, their willingness to explore the "gritty" and "dirty" alongside the romantic, offers a powerful counterpoint to the often sanitized view of antiquity. From the public pronouncements of emperors to the private diaries of diarists and the clandestine pages of erotic novels, Rome's influence on queer lives and loves is undeniable. So, yes, homosexuality was common in Rome. But it was more than just common; it was woven into the fabric of their society in ways that were both complex and, for many, deeply affirming. While Greek queerness offers a beautiful ideal, Roman desire provides a more realistic, perhaps even more relatable, model. It's time we placed Rome's rich and varied legacy of same-sex relationships on an equal pedestal, celebrating the pleasure, the pain, and the sheer unapologetic humanity of their embrace of love and sex in all its messy glory.