Last week I had lunch with four women, all remarkable in their own right. And I do not use word 'remarkable' lightly. Weekly topics of conversation run the gamut of mundane dinner menus, aches of body and spirit self inflicted and outwardly imposed, political and economic health of us and the country.
During this two hours of minimal eating and maximal talking we arrived effortlessly at the psychological plight of women. Psychological being the critical word.
"Would you believe she said her husband allowed her to--"
"It's societal tyranny."
"There are more women doctors now and more and more men are going into nursing. What does that say?"
"Check the salaries. You'll find doctors are making less and nurses more."
"You know what they-- whoever they are-- always say. If you want salary increases for a profession, let men take it over."
Later at home with refreshed spirit I settled in reading a nearly finished book, O IS FOR OUTLAWS. Kinsey Millhone was on the verge of learning who shot her ex, Mickey Magruder. Julia pushed her way into my consciousness. I might have dealt the Emperor's impulsive daughter had not Cartimandua and Tanaquil joined her.
Julia, who rarely lacked a 'leaning in' that promoted confidence and control, did just that. She leaned in. "Have you ever thought about what it means to be a woman?"
No one ventured an answer.
"Then let me make a suggestion. How much time do we cover? Tanaquil from 600 BC, Carti from 1 AD, and me-- more or less the same time as Carti. And you Jewellee 2000AD. Easily 2600 years."
Tanaquil, adept at listening but abrupt in her objections said, "Your point?"
"My point," Julia's voice harbored resentment "is that little has changed in 2600 years."
"You're wrong," I said, "Dead wrong."
"How?" a simple one word from Julia is indeed rare.
"How? Well today women can be whatever they want." Her shrill laugh filled my mind. "No, it's true. They can."
"Do you really believe that? Oh it's true they can do many things. Like be doctors, who as has been pointed out earn -- exactly how much?"There is so much more involved in this. As you yourself know and have said, Jewellee. Can I ask you to share with us something you, yourself, wrote. And I assume you believe what you wrote and think it is of some value."
She insisted I share a passage from my book about her life, and she was quite specific about what part. Here in it is.
Julia was attending a party of her closest friends.
'Julia was surrounded by men of the aristocracy,their wives who mistrusted her and envied her ability to hold court. She moved away from Alliaria and Marcella, chatting about children and household matters. Her father had taken her children from her, and accounts of children's antics reminded her much she missed Gaius and Lucius and the girls. And Posti. He was so little and so needy of a mother's love. Sometimes she thought it her fault, but knew her efforts to be a mother met only obstacles from Augustus. She held up her cup to the slave approaching with wine. Lowering her refilled cup she peered into it and held it out again. "For Juno's sake, fill it up." As she lowered the cup filled to the brim, wine flowed over the sides onto her stola. "Ye Gods," she said. "I've made a mess. Just look at me."
She waved away offered napkins. "I'm quite all right. Lucky for me Tiberius isn't here. He already thinks I'm a drunken wench. He seems not to notice how fond he is of drink. But that doesn't matter. According to Tiberius men can do things women should never do" She surveyed her audience, sipped her wine. "Why are you men so insecure that you have to keep us in our place?'
So Julia said as I finished reading the passage. Have things changed. Or do men still feel the need to be in control? And how can they be in control but to control us?
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
The Carvetii Prince
Julia would have left Cartimandua's story hanging in limbo. But both Tanaquil and Jewellee urged her to continue. "I could talk hours on end and not do a better job that Jewellee did in her account. Let usw hear the rest of her account. What more could do better?
Cartimandua's initial meeting with the Cartvetii prince, if that was what he really was, left little doubt of her plans for what she considered the interloper. Thus her account!!
* * * * *
When Venutius came from
the Carvetii as a foster son to her father she welcomed him with less than
enthusiasm, fearing he would fill a place in her father's attentions she was
loathe to share even with her brothers. She certainly could not appreciate some
upstart from some far away uncivilized tribe.
How come, she often wondered during those years, were people to the
north so much more savage than those to the south. Was it indeed true that the Romans brought
with them this civilization. That first
day she met Venutius burned in her memory.
Properly bathed,
appropriately dressed, hair neatly braided, she appeared as summoned to her
father. Venutius stood shy, with lowered
eyes, looking smaller than she was later to learn he really was.
"Sleek.." Noticing her wince King Orain smiled broadly
and began again. "Cartimandua,"
he said quite deliberately.
"Cartimandua, this is Venutius.
He comes to us from the Carvetii and will be here for a time yet to be
determined. You will treat him, at
first, with he respect due a visitor.
Later you will grant him the status of family member. With the gentility
I know you are capable of." He
ignored her rolling eyes and tightly drawn lips.
She reddened as
she eyed her new foster brother and relished in his blushing also. "You will," her father said slowly
and emphatically, "consider him as one of the family and treat him as one
of your brothers. Do I make myself
clear?"
She nodded hoping
the warmth in her cheeks did not appear as red as it felt. "Yes sir."
"Yes sir
what?"
"Yes sir, I
understand."
"And you will
not try to incite your brothers against him.
As you have been known to do."
How did he
know? Was she that transparent? Had he found out she plotted endlessly
against the last foster son? Daringly
meeting his stare she said, "Yes Sir."
Orain looked from
Cartimandua to Venutius and back to his daughter. Finally he smiled. "I see we understand each other. Perhaps
you will now show Venutius around.
Introduce him to your mother and the boys."
"Yes
Sir." She made no effort to move.
"Today." He left her alone with the interloper. She
glared at Venutius. He would be short lived as were the others. But she would be more careful this time.
Venutius stood
silent and motionless, not responding to her steady gaze. Sensing she was in complete control she
grinned. "Want to meet my
brothers?"
"Right
now?" He raised his eyes only to
drop them again.
She felt her
power. Venutius was going to be easier
than the last one. He was hers. He would
be clay to be molded as she chose.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Julia, as was her inclination, objected vigorously to Cartimandua's account of her pending meeting with the exchange student warrior her father, King Orain had agreed to take in. After a first, then a second and finally a third complaint from Julia, Carti said with some force. "Why are we agrueing about this? We know-- you Julia as well as Tanaquil and Carti- that our fame lies with Jewellee. It is, after all, she who has worked to make us known to the world as it is in her time. I suggest that instead of listening to me - which I am aware that Julia resents- we read Jewellee's account of that meeting. It is available in the ROMAN CELTIC. QUEEN. So shall we cease thebickering and read it?"
Julia with reserve agreed.
"So Jewellee regale us with the rest of Carti's meeting with the young Venutius..
Thus Jewellee's account. .
When Venutius came from the Carvetii as a foster son to her father she welcomed him with
less than enthusiasm, fearing he would fill a place in her father's attentions
she was loathe to share even with her brothers. She certainly could not appreciate
some upstart from some far away uncivilized tribe. How come, she often wondered during those
years, were people to the north so much more savage than those to the
south. Was it indeed true that the
Romans brought with them this civilization.
That first day she met Venutius burned in her memory.
Properly
bathed, appropriately dressed, hair neatly braided, she appeared as summoned to
her father. Venutius stood shy, with
lowered eyes, looking smaller than she was later to learn he really was.
"Sleek.." Noticing her wince King Orain smiled broadly
and began again. "Cartimandua,"
he said quite deliberately.
"Cartimandua, this is Venutius.
He comes to us from the Carvetii and will be here for a time yet to be
determined. You will treat him, at
first, with he respect due a visitor.
Later you will grant him the status of family member. With the gentility
I know you are capable of." He
ignored her rolling eyes and tightly drawn lips.
She
reddened as she eyed her new foster brother and relished in his blushing
also. "You will," her father
said slowly and emphatically, "consider him as one of the family and treat
him as one of your brothers. Do I make
myself clear?"
She
nodded hoping the warmth in her cheeks did not appear as red as it felt.
"Yes sir."
"Yes
sir what?"
"Yes
sir, I understand."
"And
you will not try to incite your brothers against him. As you have been known to do."
How
did he know? Was she that
transparent? Had he found out she
plotted endlessly against the last foster son?
Daringly meeting his stare she said, "Yes Sir."
Orain
looked from Cartimandua to Venutius and back to his daughter. Finally he smiled. "I see we understand each other. Perhaps
you will now show Venutius around.
Introduce him to your mother and the boys."
"Yes
Sir." She made no effort to move.
"Today." He left her alone with the interloper. She
glared at Venutius. He would be short lived as were the others. But she would be more careful this time.
Venutius
stood silent and motionless, not responding to her steady gaze. Sensing she was in complete control she
grinned. "Want to meet my
brothers?"
"Right
now?" He raised his eyes only to
drop them again.
She
felt her power. Venutius was going to be
easier than the last one. He was hers.
He would be clay to be molded as she chose. TIME WOULD TELL.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Cartimandua's Childhood
Sometimes I feel
that people who might stumble on this (As the gods must know I am living in a
fool’s world if I think anyone will stumble one this) --. Nevertheless I do
wonder if someone did inadvertently find it, they might think I have taken
leave of my senses. What sane person
would regularly communicate with long dead people?
But to me Julia,
daughter of the first Roman emperor:
Tanaquil, the wife of the Roman King Tarquin; Cartimandua, the Celtic
woman leader. To me they are real. In my imagination we reach across time and space
. We see each other; we talk. to each other; we like each other. And most importantly we tolerate each other.
So it was when
Julia, visibly upset by my story, urged me to talk of something else. Carti was
there, not so gently chiding Julia. “I liked Jewellee’s story about the little girl who no doubt is Jewellee
herself. I was a little girl too once, and I have my own little girl story.”
She ignored Julia’s exaggerated sigh and
began.
I was barely nine
when mother grasped my hand so hard it hurt. She dragged me to my father, King
Orain. ‘This child needs tighter reins. Just look at her.’
And I was a sore sight.
My tunic was encrusted with creek silt; my hair infested with burrs and seeds
from the weeds I crawled through trying to creep up on a nesting goose.
‘Well Sleek Pony,
what do you have to say for yourself?’ I watched Father’s face soften as he
looked at me. I knew I was his favorite.
I rolled my eyes. ‘I
have a name. Sleek Pony is for a baby.’
He scowled. ‘And
from the looks of you, it appears you are very much a baby. Tell me, Carti, if
I must call you that, where have you been? Everyone’s been out looking for you.
I suspect there is a reasonable answer—‘ He stared directly into my eyes. ‘or not.’
‘But I..’
Father cut me short.
‘Your but I matters but little at the moment. Had I time we would explore your
behavior, which I must say is not exactly becoming to your station. But now is
not the time. Today we’re receiving a guest. Now get yourself cleaned up.’
My spirits rose. ‘The Roman peddler?’
‘No not the
peddler. It’s a young man from the Carvetii. He’s to live with us for a while.’
‘Not that. You know
how much I hate the stupid boys you take in. They’re dirty and mean.’
Father laughed
without restraint. ‘And you’re clean and sweet?’ He ran his fingers over my
burr filled hair. ‘Now Sleek…’ I grimaced and he continued. ‘Now Cartimandua, you know we have agreements
with the Federation. And remember that your brother just last year left for his
stay with the Carvetii. Would you have me go back on the agreement? Just what
would that mean? ‘ I was forced to look away. ‘And while you’re thinking about that, wipe that
grimace from your face and determine to be civil. Who knows you might just like
young Venutius.’
I nodded but vowed
secretly to hate this new interloper. Could he be any different from the
others? They were all the same--- boring, ugly and far from any one a sensible person
would want as a friend or lover or the gods forbid a husband. Overly confident, one after the other they
came, from one tribe or another. This new Carvetii would be no different. And I, a mere girl, a daughter of the king,
had no choice but to accept him.
Out of Father’s
sight I ran, not to the nursery as ordered, where Gerae no
doubt waited with towel and water. Instead I ran to the tannery shed where
Cluer, the tanner, greeted me effusively. ‘Carti, you’re out of breath.’
I drew in my breath
and exhaled loudly. ‘Another dumb boy, a prince or something is coming. Like
the others and I have to be, as Father calls it, civil.’
‘And what is wrong
with being civil?’ Cluer looked at me with narrowed eyes. ‘There would be a lot
less bloodshed if more people were civil. Tell me, Carti, what could it hurt to
be civil to this young man?’
‘Uck. How can you
say that? They’re all so dumb.’
‘Dumb. And what
does that mean? You sound like a ten year old brat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Speaking
of dumb,’ he continued, ‘how dumb of me. Of course you’re not a ten year old
brat. You’re a nine year old brat. Why not give the boy a chance? You might
just like him.’
I lowered my eyes,
tried to force tears which would not come. Then I turned ands ran from Cluer’s
shed. I would not like that idiot from the Carvetii. I would not
Carti fell silent.
I was mesmerized. Even Julia had hung on her every word. Good old Julia was the
first to speak. “And so what happened?”
“I think,” Carti said, “I need to finish my story another day.”
Julia’s hand flailed,
her eyes flashed, her voice filled the room. “I might have known. I might have
known. . When?”
“Next time we’re
together.”
I might have known.”
’
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