When Vesuvius erupted in 79 CE, the force of the explosion blew the top right off the mountain, burying nearby Pompeii in a shower of volcanic ash. Ironically, the calamity that proved so lethal for Pompeii's inhabitants preserved the city for centuries, leaving behind a snapshot of Roman daily life that has captured the imagination of generations.
The experience of Pompeii always reflects a particular time and sensibility, says Ingrid Rowland. From Pompeii: The Afterlife of a Roman Town explores the fascinating variety of these different experiences, as described by the artists, writers, actors, and others who have toured the excavated site. The city's houses, temples, gardens--and traces of Vesuvius's human victims--have elicited responses ranging from awe to embarrassment, with shifting cultural tastes playing an important role. The erotic frescoes that appalled eighteenth-century viewers inspired Renoir to change the way he painted. For Freud, visiting Pompeii was as therapeutic as a session of psychoanalysis. Crown Prince Hirohito, arriving in the Bay of Naples by battleship, found Pompeii interesting, but Vesuvius, to his eyes, was just an ugly version of Mount Fuji. Rowland treats readers to the distinctive, often quirky responses of visitors ranging from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Charles Dickens, and Mark Twain to Roberto Rossellini and Ingrid Bergman.
Interwoven throughout a narrative lush with detail and insight is the thread of Rowland's own impressions of Pompeii, where she has returned many times since first visiting in 1962.
Ingrid Drake Rowland is a professor at the University of Notre Dame School of Architecture. She is a frequent contributor to The New York Review of Books. Based in Rome, Rowland writes about Italian art, architecture, history and many other topics for The New York Review of Books. She is the author of the books Giordano Bruno: Philospher/Heretic (Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2008); The Place of the Antique in Early Modern Europe; The Culture of the High Renaissance: Ancients and Moderns in Sixteenth Century Rome; The Roman Garden of Agostino Chigi Horst Gerson Memorial Lecture, Groningen: University of Groningen, 2005; The Scarith of Scornello: a Tale of Renaissance Forgery (University of Chicago Press, 2004). Her essays in The New York Review of Books were collected in From Heaven to Arcadia: The Sacred and the Profane in the Renaissance (New York Review Books, 2005).
While there may have been book filled with more mindless drivel written at some point in history, I have not read it. The author's intent is unclear, even after struggling through 293 pages of cerebral investigations about useless minutiae. Instead of covering anything about Pompeii itself, this book spends much (much, much, much) more time discussing the reactions of others to the Pompeii tragedy, including unnecessary details about the lives of people who at some point intersected with the Pompeii site and are unnecessarily included. At the very end, literally from the Ingrid Bergman chapter to the conclusion, I found a few pieces of info to be actually interesting, though not altogether fascinating. There's just too much here, and too much repetition, lending itself to seeming like a thesis submitted for some under-grad course. It reminds me of why I don't write... because I would get bogged down in details that don't matter to anyone else, and would end up getting very sad reviews online!
A very good account of different people whose experience in Pompeii and around was important; not just the obvious ones like Bryullov, but also Mozart, the guy who had built a modern town near the excavations site, Rossellini and so on.
When I was younger I really enjoyed history and the Roman Empire was one of my favorite periods to learn about. I was particularly fascinated by Pompeii (the Roman city that was buried by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in AD 79), so much so that when I made my first trip across the pond I made sure Pompeii was on the itinerary. I loved every minute of my visit to Pompeii, and I still have a hard time fathoming I was walking down the streets of an ancient Roman city.
When I came across a review of Rowland's book in the New Yorker's Briefly Noted feature promising "the impressions of nearly two millennia’s worth of visitors to the site, including Mozart, Dickens, Mark Twain, Hirohito, and Hillary Clinton, who, at a G7 summit in Naples, opted out of a First Ladies’ excursion to Herculaneum, saying that only Pompeii would do I couldn't open my wallet fast enough. I loved the idea that instead of a history of Pompeii, or a fictional account of the last days of Pompeii, I would get a glimpse at how Pompeii had impacted visitors since its rediscovery.
I learned so much from this book (the origin of the word grotesque, what a pyroclastic surge is, how the modern town of Pompei was founded) and I wish I had read it before I visited Pompeii!
I loved this, although I read it over a long period of time. It jumps about and it isn't at all about life in the ancient town of Pompeii. Instead Rowland, one of the great accumulative historians of our time, talks about everything from the interests of many excavations, the later volcanic eruptions, neighborhoods in Naples, how the Sanctuary of modern Pompeii was achieved, how cameos are carved (a short chapter, Jenn, don't get excited), and what will happen if Vesuvius blows up again. I am in awe of Ingrid Rowland and can read anything she writes because she links so much together of my various Italian interests.
I was a bit disappointed in From Pompeii. I am interested in the history and the archeological findings, but felt Rowland was skimming the surface and jumping around. The historical aspects of the archeology of the city was interesting, but left me, as a reader, feeling as if something was left out.
A solid historiography about the afterlife of Pompeii and the archaeological interventions in the area over the past 2000 years by a prominent art historian. Overall, I enjoyed the book and found it interesting, but it would have benefitted from additional pictures and more consistent pacing. There were sections that could and should have been expanded upon (i.e. the sixteenth century and seventeenth centuries, along with more information about the art, architecture, and geology of the original town)--these seemed too pared down and instead the author jumped to brief discussions of Mozart and Mark Twain, which I found weaker and less interesting. I do wish I had read the book prior to visiting the site of Pompeii itself, as Rowland had much inside knowledge about the logistics of the town that intellectual and casual tourists alike would benefit from.
I second Rachel's spot on and concise review above. The author's intent is unclear and the title and blurb misleading. I believed the book to be about Pompei or at the very least an analysis of the life and times of the Pompeians evidenced in the archeaological finds. This book is nothing of the sort. No focus on Pompei itself either before or after the erruption. At best it is a meandering university-thesis style exploration of what people who visited Pompei over the centuries thought and how it may have influenced their lives. Her discussion of Mozart and his link to Pompei is tenuous at best. A disappointing read. The only positive I have is that the author writes well and expresses herself clearly.
One of my great joys in life is browsing the stacks at the library. I have come upon so many good reads by happenstance. It's even better than going to a bookstore, not only because you can take the books home for free, but also because libraries do not have to stock their shelves in accordance with commercial concerns. Those little gems of books that might have trouble paying for their shelf space at B&N can rest easy in the stacks, knowing that they are there for any happy patron who comes across them. I was recently excited to find From Pompeii: The Afterlife of a Roman Town at our local library. It has given me several hours of discovery and delight.
I have always had deep interest in the story of Pompeii in 79 A.D., when Mount Vesuvius rained fiery hell down upon the idyllic resort town and buried her in his pyroclastic rage. I've always been mildly surprised to find out that others do not share my intense fascination with the story. Really? It is not the most gripping drama you've ever imagined? Hmm.
Ingrid D. Rowland gets it, though. And, as she proves with her eclectic and comprehensive collection of reactions to and inspirations derived from the ghastly tale of Pompeii, many others have 'gotten it' over the intervening two millennia as well. What is so utterly captivating about this book is how it weaves together so many different people's stories from such various eras who have such wide-ranging artistic, scientific, literary, archeological, and philosophical reactions to what they see in Pompeii into a coherent whole.
From the earliest amateur geologists who charted movements of great Vesuvius in the 17th century while unknowingly skirting the edges of the buried city to the first excavation attempts a century later; from the impressions of Leopold Mozart and his gifted son who toured the ruins to the Russian artist who made his fortune depicting the city's last harrowing moments; from writers Twain and Dickens to film makers Bergman and Rossellini; from the last emperor of Japan to an American First Family, Ms. Rowland shows time and again how this region, this story, this monument of nature's blind fury and mankind's tenacity continues to enchant, enthrall, and horrify everyone who comes into contact with it.
Why? Why is the reaction so visceral, so immediate, so full of pity and heartbreak for plaster casts of men, women, children, and animals who died so long ago? Ms. Rowland does as fine a job of answering that as anyone could, I think, when she writes, "[R]egardless of our beliefs about God, San Gennaro, nature, and fate, Vesuvius inexorably confronts us with our own mortality. Pompeii, the volcano's ancient victim, seizes our imagination both because it was so alive up until the moment the mountain exploded and because that place, so intensely, so intricately living, could be gone in a flash." Its relatively brief life as a bustling town was, by its sudden and complete destruction, made forever a part of our consciousness -- much like the greatest, saddest stories of mythology were placed by the gods into the stars to be read forever. Pompeii non mortua est, sed aeterna.
A book about Pompeii that focuses not so much on the ancient city, nor on the excavations, but on the effect that the buried and then rediscovered town has had on its visitors. With extensive quotes from famous visitors, from Charles Dickens to Mark Twain to Jean-Auguste Renoir, the book illustrates how Pompeii has exerted its fascination over centuries of visitors, including Crown Prince Hirohito in the 1920s and the Clintons in the 1990s. References to artworks inspired by Pompeii (paintings- novels -poems- movies) abound. Chapters about the local art of cameo carving and about a Catholic philanthropist whose determination to improve the lives of the poor and ignorant inhabitants of the villages around Pompei led to the creation of a whole new town, round out the story of the history of Pompeii after its rediscovery.
The author, a professor of architecture, has been visiting the site since 1962 and seen it evolution. Man-made changes, but also some destruction wrought by nature (earthquakes, climate change), that can be read as a commentary on the political, economical and cultural life of Italy in the last couple of decades.
I enjoyed the book because it made me think of aspects of Pompeii that I had never before considered. So I found the book original and eye-opening.
Aside from the history of Pompeii's rediscovery and how the locals in Naples hold off eruptions with vials of saint's blood, the best chapters were on Renoir's travels and his (re)discovery of classical style found in the frescos housed in Naples. New (old) objects of his study include nudes with Titian-style floating hair to onions he saw in Naples (taken from a Pompeii wall). The author has many black&white photos in the book that were easily found online in color and high res. Great fun looking at at it all! A fascinating character was Bartolo Longo, who was the estate manager for a local aristocrat and found the modern day (1872) inhabitants living in abject poverty. He worked tirelessly to drain malarial swamps, establish housing and schools, and organized the local work force with jobs that established a vital economy supporting tourism and cameo carving in old Pompeii. I highly recommend it.
Pleasant and good writing. I found interesting the Athanasius Kircher section, the citation of the many eruptions since 79 AD, and the derivation of the word "grotesque." However the prefatory ascription seems inept, the illustrations not living up to expectations, and as for the substance of this attractive Harvard University Press book - the excellent index seems not warranted by the froth and irrelevancies of this dabbling concoction.
The book touches upon history of many towns in the region of Vesuvius, with many art references. Its subtitle is "The Afterlife of a Roman Town" which may indicate that it has not found its focus, but rather skips from Mark Twain to Sophia Loren, lots of Ingrid Bergman, and ten pages informing the reader of the liquefaction of San Gennaro's blood. The author and publisher promised much more.
A sadly disjointed book on the history of Pompeii and the tourist/excavation industry that sprang up around it after its destruction. The topic itself is certainly interesting -- what different generations and cultures (both Italian and non-Italian) have made of Pompeii, how they viewed its destruction and understood its people -- but the author skips and skims, delving into unnecessary digressions and frequently losing the narrative thread. The book reads much like a tour guide's lecture in its relatively superficial approach to the subject. It's difficult to know whether a better editor could have made something of it; as it stands, it wouldn't be my first choice for a book on the history of Pompeii.
First I have to say that the cover is perfect, and is what caught my attention right away. I am a firm believer in the importance of cover art and this was just too beautiful and sad to pass up. I am especially fond of black and white photos, particularly when modern photos are taken this way (which does kind of sound strange to say since Pompeii is anything but modern in itself). Plus, I am a sucker for anything related to Vesuvius and Pompeii, so there's that too.
After a slow start, the story of Pompeii since the eruption of Vesuvius in AD 79 picks up steam and ends in a flourish with accounts of Rossellini's Viaggio in Italia modern tourism and decay. Hang in there - it's worth it for the multi-layered history, archeology, and art account, much like the reference to Sigmund Freud's Civilization and Its Discontents and its "overlapping strata of ancient Rome."
An interesting approach to the subject. Doesn't dwell on the eruption itself, but rather the after history of the site, its rediscovery, and impact on some of history's noted visitors there. Including Mark Twain, Dickens, Freud and even Hillary Clinton (who was prevented from seeing a phallic statue during her visit). It's an interesting and witty approach to this world heritage site.
What a fabulous way to tell the stories of one of the worlds most iconic archaeological sites. Its a geographical biography of sorts, and interweaves characters and time with Mt Vesuvius ever looming in the background. Good times.