”No man is an island. It is why so much of this book has been about bodily interaction, not just mortal bodies with gods’ bodies and with nature, but human body with human body – in sexual congress, in the gym, arena, bathhouse and sanctuary, in the clinic, at the funeral, in the tomb Roman bodies interacting with Greek and Egyptian bodies, Christian bodies with pre-Christian bodies, my body, your body, with ancient bodies.”
In Exposed, Caroline Vout explores how the ancient Greeks and Romans understood their own bodies as well as those of they deemed as ”others” – foreigners, slaves, disabled people and so on. The emphasis is on the bodily experience and how people consturcted their understanding of as complex a phenomenon as the body and the bodied experience. She explores this theme from many point of views, such as human body in contrast to divine bodies and animals, the dead body, resurrected body of Christianity, athletics, the concept of a soul and sexual acts and desire.
Vout’s book is a very interesting deep-dive into the idea and concept of the body. Her writing is very easy-to-follow, so you don’t have to know much beforehand to enjoy this book. This is a topic I have researched quite a bit – and I am a gender/sexuality historian so I have, in general, thought a lot about human bodies and everything related to it during my studies – so I already knew a lot of what Vout talked about, but I still naturally learned a lot and my understanding of Greek and Roman theories, ideas, laws and thoughts of the body deepened a lot. I think this book would be a good place to start your journey into understanding the history of gender, sexuality, sex and the body in the ancient world.
One of the themes that struck me most in the book was how contemporary so many of the debates the ancient felt. They were arguing about the same things as we are today, it’s just that their point of view might have been a bit different: for example, their reluctance towards abortion (the first abortion law was made in 211 AD) was not so much due to the life of the foetus but the father’s right to have legitimate heirs. Augustus made laws regarding people’s right to marry and propcreate, echoing today’s discussions about bodily autonomy and the state’s right to interfere with what is considered private. In antiquity, too, the regular people of Greece and Rome showcased their anger towards their rulers by graffiti-ing or tearing down statues (statues of, say, emperors were extensions of their bodies, representing their power wherever they were placed). People still today fetishize beauty and youth, treat women’s bodies as men’s property and deem the bodies of people they consider outcasts as less than human. Ancient discussions about what ”barbarian” bodies were like reminded me so much of racist discourse today. Marginalized groups of people were also blamed or used as scapegoats when huge disasters, like illnesses, plagued cities and states: Athens blamed Sparta for their huge plague near the end of the 400s BCE, just like Jewish people have been, throughout history, thought of as the guilty party, spreaders of disease, and like the Chinese were blamed for Covid-19. People who were considered ”ugly” like Aesop and Socrates also used their ugliness as a way to stand up to the ruling government and society, just like people today whose bodies are marginalized or demonized – fat people, disabled people and trans people for example – refuse to hide their bodies, whose bodies are, just by existing, forms of resistance against the norm. Ancients toyed with the idea of artificial life and intelligence (myths of Daedalus and Hephaestus, as well as stories of characters like Talos), clearly intrigued, just like we are, by the idea of creating life, playing god and stretching the concept of ”human”. These are just a few examples that showcase how, even if the world and society has changed drastically, there is a shared humanity that links us to these people thousands of years ago. Just like it is today and has always been, the ancients understood their body in the context of their culture, religion, social norms, laws, landscape and personal experiences.
As a historian that focuses, mostly, on homosexuality and queerness in the past, the sections regarding queerness – both in terms of sexuality and gender – were the most interesting to me. Vout does a great job explaining how homosexuality was, while common in the ancient world and not stigmatized the way it is today, still something that was governed by societal norms and ideas of ”propriety”. They might not have been written in law, but there were clear rules as to who could bed who (this was also true for heterosexual relationships) and even if Romans inherited a lot from Greece, this was not something they simply included in their own culture. Romans were, in general, in terms of gender and sexuality much stricter than Greeks – Vout even says that, in Rome, ”masculinity was always in crisis” – and so their norms regarding same-sex relationships was a lot harsher. In Greece the biggest no-no was being the passive partner in sex, but in Rome you weren’t allowed to, for example, have sex with other citizen men or boys (Greek pederasty was something they frowned upon). Male nudity was also something to be governed more strictly. The Romans were, for lack of a better word, a bit prudish, even more hellbent on achieving a mythical perfect masculinity. This idea of a perfect man was of course built by defining that which is imperfect or dangerous: to the Ancients it was effeminacy, cowardice, weakness, non-citizenship and foreigness. Men who enjoyed sex with men in a way not appropriate for their status or class were, just like many gay men today, deemed as no better than women. That was a major insult since women were, in both cultures, second-class to men, flawed in their body and mentally incapable of taking care of their own affairs – as Vout puts it, women’s bodies were inherently decadent. Even worse than being a woman was being a slave, as slave’s bodies were not seen as bodies at all: they were not human. To be owned was to be demeaned. Ironically neither Romans nor Greeks had any problems owning people (their cultures were build by slavery); it was just enslavement of people like them that horrified them as a possibility. Treatment of slaves reminds us how tied politics, class and status was to how your body was viewed and if it deserved respect or not (slaves were at the bottom, while the Emperor's body was Rome itself and to harm the Emperor was to harm Rome, and vice versa).
One of Vout’s key goals in the book is to get the reader to realize that the ancient world was not how we easily see it as based on the most famous artwork left to us. Greece was not a parade of beautiful, perfectly shaped men and gorgeous women clad in stunning dresses. To think so is to buy into their obsession with beauty and perfection and to ignore the vast majority of people who lived there who were just normal. Those bodies are not real: they are ideals. Realizing this does not make them any less beautiful and enticing, but helps make the ancient world feel less idealistic and pure. It makes me so mad how these statues and pictures have been, throughout history, used as symbols of alt-right movements, racist science and white supremacy, and so on, because it reeks of purposeful denial of the diversity that is apparent in Greek art, if you just look for it. There were statues of disabled people, old people, toothless people, fat people and gender nonconforming people. By looking for them, the gilded, marble idea of perfect Greece crumbles, as it should. The ancients were, to use our modern words, a racist and sexist bunch, and we have inherited many an unfortunate habit from them, such as the idea that a person’s appearance is a reflection of their moral goodness (an idea which leads very easily to racism), but we should learn to look past it and not inforce their ideas when looking at their depictions of bodies.
The final chapters bring Christianity to the forefront. As Rome goes from polytheistic to monotheist religion and becomes something so widldy different from the pagan culture, ruled by capricious gods, it used to be, it is only natural that the idea of what a body is, should be and is after death, changes drastically. One of the phrases that stuck with me the most was Vout referring to how Christianity perceives the human body as ”the mortification of the flesh”. There had been rules and norms regarding body and what people should do with them in Antiquity before, of course there had been, but Christians took it to a whole other level. The body became inherently sinful, dirty and wrong, as did any kind of sexual desire and act (even between man and wife). The Christians linked sex with impurity in their own special way, and made the idea of bodily suffering the key aspect of their religion. There had always been philosophers who highlighted ascetism and extreme self-control as the way to prosperity, but it was nothing quite like the stories of Christian saints starving themselves. With Christianity also came the need to redefine what being in a body meant. How could Jesus be both human and god? Was he a sexual being? Was god a bodied being? What did resurrection mean? If a person died as a baby, did they end up, in Heaven, as a baby or as the adult they would’ve been? Was a foetus a human? Did a woman have to leave behind her gender to gain access to Heaven? It was intriguing to compare the Christian way of depicting saints and gods to, for example, the Greek way, as there are stark differences as well as similarities. Just like Dionysos, Jesus can be both a youth and a bearded man, and just like ancient deities, Jesus and God are often depicted through symbolic animals and objects. But depicting Jesus or Virgin Mary as nude or barely clothed was not common, unlike in Ancient Greece where Apollo, Zeus and Poseidon among other male gods constantly had their dicks out. It's an intriguing visual reference to just how differently Christians approached nudity and sexuality.
Vout talks about a conference she was asked to attend where she gave a speech about metamorphosis in Ovid's epic poem Metamorphoses. I loved how she described this innate human need to explore the human body, understand it in relation to gods and animals and plants, to reflect our own insecurities and thoughts on it through storytelling, and try and reach a greater understanding of who we are by looking at what we look like, what others look like and what we could become. As Vout says, people have always been insecure about their bodies, felt fear when something changes (aging, puberty, pregnancy, illness and so on) and so we have always told stories of bodily change. Metamorphoses is a literary landmark and a testament to our eternal curiosity towards the body. Vout also highlights how it should not be ignored that many stories in the book and mythology in general feature stories of men becoming women and vice versa: transgender and non-binary might modern categories but they are not modern phenomena. We have always wanted to stretch the gender binary.
Finally, I just wanna share this lovely quote about Dionysos, my fave god: ”He led mortals a merry dance away from the soul-searching of everyday life, into the wilds and back again, from city to countryside, earth to the underworld, masculine to feminine, Greece and Rome to India. He is a challenge to anyone who has sought solace in seeing the Greek and Roman wolrds as self-contained or supremely rational, a challenge back in antiquity to society’s constraints.” I would like to see someone who believes in the white supremacist and mega-homophobic, sexist and racist organizations who still use mythological figures as a symbols to explain Dionysos, who is everything but a masculine gigachad hetero bro.
My enjoyment of this book was hampered by my anxiety flaring up as I was reading it and it reminding me too much of my studies and own research plans. I also just didn't click with the writing sometimes. It was educational, professional and easy-to-read, but I don't know, it just didn't grab me all the time. Or maybe that was just my anxiety making it hard for me to focus. The point being, this is a great book and a wonderfully intimate depiction of the body in the ancient world, a great place for both beginners and more seasoned experts of the subject.