Theodora: Empress of Byzantium (Mark Magowan Books) by Paolo Cesaretti

from the gods, or the modern Don Juan who made fun of piety for the dead. Indeed, inclamoring for sexual pleasure—to the point of taking Nature to task—Theodora asserts herself as a literary creature, apart from declaring her personal sexual appetites. And while Procopius succeeds as a writer in his own genre, paradoxically he fails in his attempt to humiliate Theodora, for never has such a resentful work bestowed so much fame on its target.
    In
The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
, Edward Gibbon (1737–1794), the great Enlightenment historian, paraphrased the passage about the “four openings”; he wrote that Theodora “wished for a
fourth
altar, on which she might pour libations to the god of love.” 5 The use of a sacred, ritual vocabulary to write about sex is typical of the contemptuous libertine style as used, for example, by the Marquis de Sade. Cesare Baronio (1538–1607), a cardinal and church historian, brought a different, more malicious attitude to the matter. In his
Ecclesiastical Annals
, he noted that Theodora “surpassed all other women in wickedness. She deserved the names given to the Furies in Hell.” 6 Although Cardinal Baronio could identify what was different, his judgment was faulty.
    Thus Theodora’s irritated reproach to Nature is an instance of a literary device that both preceded the
Secret History
and followed it; it may also hint at her physical traits, just as a fossil hints at an ancient life-form. Perhaps Theodora’s breasts were seen to offer little material for erotic play; her beautiful body was probably boyish rather than buxom and matronly.
    What were the “true” features of that young face and body that could “win the hearts” 7 of so many men and kindle so many different passions? From the mosaic of the San Vitale basilica in Ravenna [ fig. 1 ] we know how she looked as a mature woman, about thirty years after this period. Even if we assume that the artist or the mosaic installer had access to the palace and saw Theodora, still the majestic, stately portrait reveals little of the mime actress whose career had caused so much scandal. In the
Secret History
, even his hatred doesn’t blind the author to her beauty. As a matter of fact, he describes her almost impartially.She “was fair of face and in general attractive in appearance, but short of stature and lacking in colour, being, however, not altogether pale but rather sallow, and her glance was always intense and made with contracted brows.” 8

16. Marble portrait head of “Theodora” (actually Licinia-Eudoxia), c. 430–40, Castello Sforzesco, Milan.

    The literary source (Procopius) and the visual source (Ravenna), date to almost the same time, but they are far apart geographically and opposite in meaning and intent, and they do not agree about Theodora’s height. (In the mosaic, she is the tallest figure, possibly as a mark of hierarchical respect.) But they do agree on Theodora’s expression, for in the mosaic her dark eyes appear particularly deep. Focused attention seems to be Theodora’s dominant trait: she seems to scour her surroundings, scrutinizing them for dangers, glimpsing opportunities. She is not lost in gentle or transcendental contemplation like an icon, nor does she wear an expression of detached serenity, like the marblebust of an emperor or a philosopher. Her beauty is diaphanous, well proportioned, restless, and expressive. It is a beauty that could easily qualify as “modern.”
    In pursuit of that seductive beauty, some scholars have identified as Theodora an exquisite marble sculpture of a head, discovered in the course of demolition in the center of Milan, Italy, and now housed at the Sforza castle there [ fig. 16 ]. The statue’s oval face resembles the Ravenna mosaic: it shares a delightful restlessness in the lips, an intent expression, and a haughty impatience that recall Theodora. But recent research on the artifact’s form and style leads scholars to attribute it not