Theodora: Empress of Byzantium (Mark Magowan Books) by Paolo Cesaretti Page B
Authors: Paolo Cesaretti
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was a lot to admire, as the
Secret History
reports in a passage about her performances in about 518.
And often even in the theatre, before the eyes of the whole people, she stripped off her clothing and moved about naked through their midst, having only a girdle about her private parts and her groin, not, however, that she was ashamed to display these to the populace, but because no person is permitted to enter there entirely naked, but must have at least a girdle about the groin. Clothed in this manner, she sprawled out and lay on her back on the ground. And some slaves, whose duty this was, sprinkled grains of barley over her private parts, and geese, which happened to have been provided for this very purpose, picked them off with their beaks, one by one, and ate them. And when she got up, she not only did not blush, but even acted as if she took pride in this strange performance. For she was not merely shameless herself, but also a contriver of shameless deeds above all others. And it was a common thing for her to undress and stand in the midst of the actors on the stage, now straining her body backwards and now trying to [offer her] hinder parts both [to] those who had consorted with her and those who had not yet done so, running through with pride the exercises of the only wrestling school to which she was accustomed. 11
It seems an artless performance; even stern historians smile over the relative innocence of these infamous “pornographic” scenes. But one should distinguish between the two episodes described in the
Secret History.
The second one, where she performed “in the midst of the actors,” leaves little to the imagination: Theodora “strained her body backwards” and pushed her (seminaked) belly forward, emphatically shaking her pelvis, throwing her head back, and shaking her hands toward the audience. This traditional move is documented as far back as early Attic comedy, perfected a thousand years before Theodora and still alive in today’s burlesque. When she offered “her hinder parts,” weextrapolate from the Greek text that it was an abrupt movement, “like that of a wasp or scorpion.” 12 This sounds just like the bump-and-grind of the hips, the burlesque move appreciated even by the proper middle class in modern Paris. (On the other hand, Procopius seems to have some kind of obsession, insisting again on Theodora’s “hinder parts,” her buttocks, her customary “wrestling school.” Her buttocks may be the one part of Theodora’s body that he scrutinizes most closely.)
The first episode, with the geese, is part of a more sophisticated kind of pantomime or tableau vivant in which players reenacted ancient mythological scenes. The theme of Theodora’s performance was derived from the legendary union of the god Zeus with Leda, the wife of Tindareus, king of Sparta. From this union came Helen, whom the ancients called the most beautiful woman on earth. To enjoy Leda’s beauty, the god transformed himself into a swan; his miraculous embrace was rendered on the stage by trained geese who picked grains of barley from Theodora’s mons veneris, the object of desire, the true “navel” of the theater world at the time. Replacing swans with geese indicates that this was a parody, maybe even a veiled critique of the myth; in any case it proves the latitude of expression permitted in the capital of the great Christian empire.
Theodora, whom we saw “frowning” or “with contracted brows,” finally appeared “proud” of her performance. To Procopius, her relaxed smile was one more sign of her shamelessness. It’s likely, though, that the smile reflected not the actress’s feelings but the requirements of the show: the smile was a dutiful reaction to the audience’s applause. Furthermore, Theodora followed the rules of the form, which called for each actor to play various roles. So she played Leda—she lay with the god, simulating the coupling of the two lovers by lifting her pelvis
Secret History
reports in a passage about her performances in about 518.
And often even in the theatre, before the eyes of the whole people, she stripped off her clothing and moved about naked through their midst, having only a girdle about her private parts and her groin, not, however, that she was ashamed to display these to the populace, but because no person is permitted to enter there entirely naked, but must have at least a girdle about the groin. Clothed in this manner, she sprawled out and lay on her back on the ground. And some slaves, whose duty this was, sprinkled grains of barley over her private parts, and geese, which happened to have been provided for this very purpose, picked them off with their beaks, one by one, and ate them. And when she got up, she not only did not blush, but even acted as if she took pride in this strange performance. For she was not merely shameless herself, but also a contriver of shameless deeds above all others. And it was a common thing for her to undress and stand in the midst of the actors on the stage, now straining her body backwards and now trying to [offer her] hinder parts both [to] those who had consorted with her and those who had not yet done so, running through with pride the exercises of the only wrestling school to which she was accustomed. 11
It seems an artless performance; even stern historians smile over the relative innocence of these infamous “pornographic” scenes. But one should distinguish between the two episodes described in the
Secret History.
The second one, where she performed “in the midst of the actors,” leaves little to the imagination: Theodora “strained her body backwards” and pushed her (seminaked) belly forward, emphatically shaking her pelvis, throwing her head back, and shaking her hands toward the audience. This traditional move is documented as far back as early Attic comedy, perfected a thousand years before Theodora and still alive in today’s burlesque. When she offered “her hinder parts,” weextrapolate from the Greek text that it was an abrupt movement, “like that of a wasp or scorpion.” 12 This sounds just like the bump-and-grind of the hips, the burlesque move appreciated even by the proper middle class in modern Paris. (On the other hand, Procopius seems to have some kind of obsession, insisting again on Theodora’s “hinder parts,” her buttocks, her customary “wrestling school.” Her buttocks may be the one part of Theodora’s body that he scrutinizes most closely.)
The first episode, with the geese, is part of a more sophisticated kind of pantomime or tableau vivant in which players reenacted ancient mythological scenes. The theme of Theodora’s performance was derived from the legendary union of the god Zeus with Leda, the wife of Tindareus, king of Sparta. From this union came Helen, whom the ancients called the most beautiful woman on earth. To enjoy Leda’s beauty, the god transformed himself into a swan; his miraculous embrace was rendered on the stage by trained geese who picked grains of barley from Theodora’s mons veneris, the object of desire, the true “navel” of the theater world at the time. Replacing swans with geese indicates that this was a parody, maybe even a veiled critique of the myth; in any case it proves the latitude of expression permitted in the capital of the great Christian empire.
Theodora, whom we saw “frowning” or “with contracted brows,” finally appeared “proud” of her performance. To Procopius, her relaxed smile was one more sign of her shamelessness. It’s likely, though, that the smile reflected not the actress’s feelings but the requirements of the show: the smile was a dutiful reaction to the audience’s applause. Furthermore, Theodora followed the rules of the form, which called for each actor to play various roles. So she played Leda—she lay with the god, simulating the coupling of the two lovers by lifting her pelvis
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