Roaming Rome: Phalluses and fallacies

One thing that struck me with Rome is the sheer number of phalluses on display. The Italians clearly like dicking around, as anything from pasta to limoncello bottles come in the shape of erect penises.

Interesting ancient dick fact #1: To Ancient Romans, “penis” was not the clinical term for the male appendix, but a dirty word.

Interesting ancient dick fact #2: Erections were seen as amulets of good fortune, and used to adorn buildings.

I’m not sure if this explains their prolific presence today, but there you go. Most popular of all is David’s member, which features on everything from buttons to aprons. If you’re not impressed by his size (the supposed correlation between big hands and other big things certainly doesn’t prove true in his case), there are surgically enhanced versions on offer, too. Strangely, David himself isn’t here – the actual statue is in Florence, much to the chagrin of my co-traveller.

My, what big… hands.

In the Vatican and elsewhere, most statues have had their willies chopped off and/or fig leaves added to them, as later Christians found the nakedness an effrontery. There are other, more symbolic phalluses on display however that were more difficult to do away with. Nothing is new under the sun; Much like latter-day developers, the Ancient Romans liked their erections… erect. They went to the trouble of bringing back obelisks from Egypt and put them in prominent places, for instance.

One of my favourite remnants of that time is Trajan’s Column. It gets feminist flak for falling in the same category, but nothing could be further from the truth: ingenious construction, propaganda and grave monument rolled into one, calling the pillar a cock-up would be a phallus-y fallacy.

It depicts emperor Trajan’s two wars against Dacia (present-day Rumania) in a long series of panels circling the pillar, and since it does so in chronological order it is arguably one of the first comic book stories in the world. The panels and lettering get slightly bigger towards the top, thus making it easier to follow the story all the way to the top of the behemoth (it’s nearly 30 meters high). What’s more, the story significantly downplays the bloodshed and violence of war, as it’s primary audience (the civilian citizens of Rome) were wary of the army – nothing new under the sun there, either.

But there’s even more! When Trajan died his ashes were laid to rest at the base of the spire, and at the top was a statue of him in his heyday, so its thought to have symbolised his leaving behind his mortal coil to ascend into heaven (deification being a matter of course for emperors back then), while his greatest achievement symbolically marks the way. Add to that that the circumambulatory movement that is required of the “reader” mimics that of Roman funeral rites, and you have a monument that is as thought through and interactive as any you care to mention.

Oh, and bonus interesting ancient dick fact no. 3: it looks like a giant schlong, if you’re that way inclined.