A Day in the Pits

As the title of this blog suggests, today has not been a very good day -- even though, as I noted in yesterday's post, I know that many people have far more real problems than I do.

I can't relax properly, though not for lack of trying. I've been working on my Romanticism essay and it's progressing well, though I think that I am b.s.ing a little. Yesterday evening I went to the library, duty bound, and borrowed something like five books that should be enough to round out my sources. I've begun reading an enormous history of Germany from 1763-1850. But altogether I worry that I will never finish this essay.

I woke up too late (10:26) to go to French, even though I'd fully intended to go. Then I showered, worked on my essay, breakfasted, and agonized whether to go to my other courses today or whether to try to finish the essay before History instead. In the end I did go to all three other courses.

In German (310) the professor gave us a list of preposition+verb combinations to remember (e.g. bestehen aus), then gave us exercises involving the passive voice and integrating relative clauses into a sentence. After that we had a little party. We had cookies -- including fortune cookies! --, chocolate, and juice. My fortune said: "Social success will be yours"; I murmured, in true Hermit fashion, "Not likely!" Anyway, the mood was quite jolly.

Then I came in slightly late for Classical Studies 204 (which I refer to as "Archaeology"). The professor took us through the Forum Romanum, as well as the Imperial Fora of Caesar, Augustus, Trajan, and Vespasian (whose forum was financed by and decorated with the loot from Jerusalem). I felt a certain Schadenfreude (or an "Ozymandias moment") when we saw an artist's rendition of Augustus's temple in its pompous glory, then a photo of what remains today. I've disliked the Romans and their architecture in a vague general way ever since I've known a decent amount about them through my Classical Studies 100 course. The Greeks and their architecture are so much nicer, in my view. The professor also discussed Rome's House of Vesta, the vestal virgins, and the Temple of Vesta, all of which I found very interesting.

So, information about the vestal virgins (there were always six): They were put forward for consideration for the job by their parents at the ages of 6-10. They had to be in perfect physical condition (e.g. no limps), come from a family of high social standing, be chaste, and have an excellent moral reputation. If they were accepted for the position, they were secluded in the House of Vesta for 10 years to be trained. At the end of that period, they were full-fledged vestal virgins, enjoying a high social prestige, and could leave the House of Vesta provided they were heavily guarded. They were entrusted with the keeping of the Eternal Flame in the Temple of Vesta, the keeping of the Palladium, and the keeping of the wills of important Romans. The Palladium was some object whose exact nature is unknown; it is said to have been formed of a black stone that fell from the sky (a meteorite?), and to have been stolen from Troy by Diomedes and Odysseus, then somehow conveyed to Rome. The belief was that if it was gone, Rome would suffer horrible misfortune; the same belief applied to the Eternal Flame. After ten years the virgins would train their successors for ten years; then they could retire and, still (except if they were married) enjoying political and economic rights that were beyond those of any other women, rejoin normal society and have a family if they wished.

The House of Vesta was a big and imposing building. It had an atrium in the middle with gardens and pools in which there were fish, plants, etc. There were around fifty rooms in the two floors; it is believed that the virgins slept on the first floor at the south end, and even after they had "retired," virgins could continue to make their home there. The only male allowed on the premises was the Pontifex Maximus. The Temple of Vesta was at one end. Its roundness is reminiscent of Greek buildings, but it seems that the real reason for this shape is that it resembles that of a hearth (Vesta was the goddess of the hearth) or that it resembles a house from earlier times (e.g. the Iron Age). It stood on a platform 15 ft(?) high, had 20 columns around the outside, and in the roof it had a sort of chimney for the Eternal Flame. The problem with this chimney was that the Flame would threaten to die out during high wind or rain; the Virgins, who would be severely punished if this threat were realized, had much ado to keep it going.

After that, I had History. The professor breezed through the Cold War, then listed and briefly discussed central themes we had discussed this term (industrialization; democratization; ideologies such as traditionalism -- essentially small-c conservatism --, liberalism, socialism, communism, and fascism; and nationalism), then painted a very bleak though vague view of the course of history during our lifetimes (cities being swallowed up by the rising seas, etc.), and finally gave a short series of anecdotes of what small things can lead to big events. These anecdotes were really sobering in their import, but the professor did tell some of them with gusto, so we had to laugh.

Now I've already had dinner, and I'm slowly forgetting my gloom, so I'm afraid this isn't a pits-y post after all. But I should mention that part of my pits-iness comes from the fact that I'm simply not happy being around people when I'm gloomy and dissatisfied with myself. I feel self-conscious and I have trouble meeting people's eyes, because I don't want to glare at them or anything like that.