Amidst the opening festivities of Domitian's Saturnalian games on the Kalendae Decembres, a bountiful hail showers down on the crowd packing the seats of the Flavian Colosseum (Stat. Silv. 1.6.9–20):Footnote 1
9 movebat ς vovebat M | 10 bellaria ς vellaria M | 11 profudit vulg. profudi M | eurus M eous M 1 in marg. | 15 et quo percoquit aebosia caunos M quod ς aestuosa Imhof | 16 cadit ς cadet M | 17 luguntulique M | 18 perustis ς perustus MA | 19 mustaceus ς muscaceus M | 20 pregnantes ς pregnates M | cariotides ς cariatides MM1
Dawn was scarcely starting on her new rising as treats were already raining from the net:Footnote 2 this dew, a rising East Wind poured forth. Whatever falls noble from the fertile Pontic nut groves or hills of Palestine, what pious Damascus grows in her branches and what †Ibizan†Footnote 3 Caunus ripens, falls freely given for bountiful plunder. Soft ‘gaioli’ and ‘lucuntuli’, and ‘Amerians’ of unscorched substance, and must-cake, and bulging nut-dates, their palm out of sight, kept falling.Footnote 4
While the purpose of this article is to question a tacit assumption of all interpretations of line 18, to do so we must consider the catalogue's brief entirety.Footnote 5 The early contents of the edible bounty are easily identifiable, even if the text is still subject to dispute: hazelnuts,Footnote 6 dates, prunes and dried figs. (Not, I would observe, unqualified ‘plums’ and ‘figs’, as English notes often misleadingly indicate;Footnote 7 in December, there are fresh versions of neither to be had.Footnote 8) With the possible exception of the figs,Footnote 9 these all come from the East (cf. also Eurus, 1.6.11); some scholars have argued for imperializing overtones to be read therein.Footnote 10
It is the second half of the short catalogue, consisting mostly of edibles from closer to home, that presents us with a series of problems. Where the nuts and fruits of the first half, periphrastically presented as riddles by the poet, were written to be solved, the very familiarity of the sweets offered up in more straightforward terms to Statius’ audience—gaioli, lucuntuli, amerina, mustaceus, caryotides—threatens to leave them as enigmas for us. Some, fortunately, have solutions. Most easily laid to rest is the mustaceus, as Cato has conveniently left us a recipe for this cake made of wheat flour and grape must mixed with cheese, anise and cumin, and baked with a laurel leaf pressed into the underside.Footnote 11 The caryotides, conversely, raise debate despite a certain familiarity: assuming (as all do) that caryotides and caryotae are the same, we know that they were the fruit borne by a type of palm tree,Footnote 12 possibly distinct from dates,Footnote 13 that may have been common theatre snacks.Footnote 14 But does praegnantes indicate that they were stuffed,Footnote 15 especially plump,Footnote 16 hidden in an outer shell,Footnote 17 or something else? Furthermore, is there in fact no difference between caryotides and caryotae? Apart from Statius and Martial, the only other author to use the term is Dioscorides, who differentiates them from both unripe and ripe regular dates,Footnote 18 but without further discussion. What was clear and familiar to Statius’ contemporaries is opaque to us.
With gaioli and lucuntuli, we enter semi-transparent waters. gaioli are mentioned nowhere else, but, as the word appears to be a diminutive of Gaius, the universal assumption of modern commentators is that these are, essentially, the Roman equivalent of gingerbread men (minus the ginger)Footnote 19 or possibly bird-shaped pastries instead (gaius meaning a jay).Footnote 20 We assume that we understand the name; we contextually extrapolate the foodstuff.Footnote 21 Several authors, conversely, mention lucuntuli, or lucunculi, or the non-diminutive lucuns:Footnote 22 they are unquestionably a type of pastry, and we even know from a stray reference preserved in Athenaeus that the recipe included cheese.Footnote 23 Their name, however, is more complicated, and its pairing with gaioli adds a further wrinkle. The word seems to be of Etruscan origin, given its -uns termination;Footnote 24 Gagé floats the tentative hypothesis that it could be connected with the noble or religious title lucumo.Footnote 25 What the Romans themselves thought is, perhaps, a different question: Titinius (fr. 166), for instance, seems to expand the word into luculentaster, suggesting ‘fancy cake’, from luculentus, although this apparent etymology may equally well be a figment of manuscript transmission.Footnote 26 Malamud, however, points out the similarity of gaioli lucuntulique to the generalizing ‘Gaius and Lucius’,Footnote 27 and despite the fanciful etymology of this resemblance, the apparent kinship between an Etruscan-originating lucuntulus and Lucius can be granted a firmer place in antiquity as well: the short fragment that we have of a late antique Liber de praenominibus, which seems to draw its information from Republican sources such as Varro and Verrius Flaccus, preserves an imagined connection between the title Lucumo and the name Lucius.Footnote 28 Furthermore, the pairing of these two pastries in a single line links them in a way that occurs with no other foodstuff in the catalogue; they are meant to be read as a group. At the very least, whether or not we accept Malamud's idea that ‘the food … bears a punning resemblance to those who consume it’,Footnote 29 we can be fairly secure in believing that the second half of the catalogue opens with two pastries whose names and origins are drawn from close to home, Latium and Etruria.Footnote 30
The long-standing interpretation of our remaining line, et massis amerina non perustis (18), is that it refers to apples or pears from the Umbrian town of Ameria (modern Amelia), since Pliny preserves for us mention of a late-ripening variety of apples called Amerina (HN 15.58) and a late-ripening variety of pears called Amerina (HN 15.55). While there are several different subsidiary interpretations deriving from this point, it is the underlying assumption that amerina refers to apples or pears—or, indeed, to fruits at all—that I wish to call into question.Footnote 31 Our ‘decoded’ catalogue so far looks like this:
For line 18 to refer to fresh fruits, as is the interpretation of a number of commentators, whether ripe or (odder still) unripe,Footnote 34 makes little sense within the flow of this catalogue. A few have, however, rejected this interpretation, pointing out that massis can hardly be reasonably understood, in its regular usage, to apply to the flesh of fresh fruit:Footnote 35 as Lafaye says, and Liberman re-emphasizes, ‘massa ne peut pas désigner autre chose qu'une agglomération de fruits empilés et serrés en masse compacte’.Footnote 36 If we must indeed take amerina to mean apples or pears, then we should certainly follow those interpretations which understand this line as referring in some fashion to dried fruit.
However, the key fact that seems to have eluded all commentators is that the term amerina should be just as immediately familiar to Statius’ audience as gaioli, lucuntuli, mustaceus and caryotides.Footnote 37 Unless dried Amerian fruit-clusters (vel sim.) were so common a Saturnalian bellarium that the unspecified epithet could evoke the same sense of instantaneous recognition as the other items in the catalogue's second half,Footnote 38 then they have no place in this catalogue. While it is impossible to know whether this is the case, I would propose that the structure of the catalogue is itself a piece of evidence in suggesting that dried Amerian fruit-clusters do not, in fact, belong in line 18.
As lines 17 and 19 both feature pastries, if we did not have Pliny's mention of pira Amerina and mala Amerina, the most obvious way for us (and I stress us, modern readers, without our ability to recognize instantly to what amerina refers) to interpret line 18 would be as referring to a type of pastry as well.Footnote 39 The result would be an unbroken string of local manufactured delicacies filling the second half of the catalogue, at least through line 19 (but possibly including line 20, depending on the implication of praegnantes), just as lines 13–15 proffer an unbroken string of imported dried fruits. Rome's imperial spread imports a bounty of edible wealth,Footnote 40 but traditional Italian rustic (or gourmet) ingenuity creates an edible and familiar bounty,Footnote 41 closely akin to the popular Italian donative of wealthy patrons, crustulum et mulsum.Footnote 42 Is it possible that this is, in fact, the way in which an ancient reader would have understood the line, and thus the catalogue? My goal here is to show that this is possible, and even plausible, although it must remain a speculative exercise; and it is, moreover, a logical way to make sense of all three confusing elements of line 18: the regional epithet amerina, the substance referred to by massis, and the degree of doneness indicated by non perustis. I shall address each of these in turn.
First, amerina. While our state of knowledge of ancient pastry is exceptionally paltry, we do have a reasonable collection of pastry names preserved.Footnote 43 It is therefore clear that calling a pastry after its place of origin has substantial precedent in antiquity: we can, for instance, compare the ‘Canopics’ (Κανωπικά) and ‘Cappadocian’ (Καππαδοκικόν) in Athenaeus’ list of cakes drawn from Chrysippus of Tyana (Ath. Deipn. 14.647c);Footnote 44 conversely, the same list's ‘Sabine pastry’ (Σαβελλικὸν κλοῦστρον) includes the word for pastry, showing that the other terms were not simply abbreviations.Footnote 45 Samiae, too, appear to be cakes of Samian origin.Footnote 46 The same, of course, is equally true of other regional manufactured foodstuffs in antiquity; Lucanian sausages, for instance, are simply Lucanica.Footnote 47
What of massis? massa is a loanword from the Greek μᾶζα, which does refer primarily to dough, or even bread, itself deriving from the verb μάσσω, ‘to knead’.Footnote 48 In Latin, however, the specific meaning of flour-and-water dough is limited to ecclesiastical, or at least late, Latin.Footnote 49 In the early days of its Latinate usage,Footnote 50 it has the general meaning of a coagulated and often still-malleable lump of material, and when applied specifically to edible material, it clearly means a homogeneous paste—our surviving references apart from this line are limited to cheeseFootnote 51 or spiced fig paste.Footnote 52 Thus, if the amerina are in fact fruit, they should be fruit that is processed substantially more than commentators have allowed, even those who argue for massis referring to dried and compressed fruit: Columella's fig massa (Rust. 12.15.3–5) consists of figs that have been dried, ground up and mixed with spices.Footnote 53 But there are two points to consider, beyond the plausible fact that many usages may simply not be attested.Footnote 54 First, pastries need not be made of flour-and-water dough (and indeed most were not, in antiquity),Footnote 55 and the coagulated and homogeneous substance that was the product of mixing and kneading should most assuredly be within the word's semantic range, certainly more than any unprocessed fresh or dried fruit. Second, the word's Greek origins clearly do not disappear, or massa would not reclaim its Greek meaning in later antiquity; and we must remember, furthermore, that Statius is the son of a Greek grammarian hailing from the Greekish city of Naples.Footnote 56
As for non perustis, while the verb is rarely preserved in cooking contexts (since one does not tend to intentionally burn food), we do find it once in Scribonius Largus (122) and once in Pliny (HN 24.110); the Plinian usage is especially informative, as it contrasts peruro with torreo, both intentional procedures, but the former implying an even more thorough scorching than torreo provides.Footnote 57 Interpretations thus far of Statius’ non perustis have been forced to a greater or lesser degree, following from the need to understand amerina as referring to fruit. Of those who take amerina as referring to fresh fruit, Vollmer, for instance, imagines that, because Amerian apples and pears ripen with frost (Plin. HN 15.58), non perustis must mean that they are not yet fully ripe (‘sie sind also jetzt noch nicht ganz reif’);Footnote 58 a note in Shackleton Bailey's Loeb volume, conversely, suggests that he takes the phrase to mean that the fruits are fully ripe but have not become overly ripe or damaged by the elements, since they are ‘picked in good time’.Footnote 59 On the other side, we have those commentators who take amerina as referring to dried fruit; in this case, non perustis is generally taken as meaning that the fruit still retains some moisture.Footnote 60 Once again, however, I propose that the context of pastry could give greater intelligibility to the phrase.Footnote 61 Just as Pliny says of lozenges made from acacia gum, which can be toasted or burned still more thoroughly than that (ab aliis torrentur, ab aliis peruruntur, HN 24.110), the same is true of pastries, which are cooked to different degrees of doneness depending on the recipe. Indeed, Varro even claims that the word crustulum is partly derived from uro.Footnote 62
While we must again lament our limited knowledge of ancient pastry techniques, there are a few salutary modern parallels to consider. First is the hyper-local tourteau fromagé of Poitou-Charentes, the method for which requires the top of the cake to be completely carbonized: this would, exempli gratia, clearly be a perustus pastry. Second is the cooking instruction, bis coctus, enshrined in the name of biscuits and biscotti. Although the double baking has been lost from most modern recipes, and although the term itself did not originate in reference to pastries but rather in reference to bread that was baked twice for the sake of longer storage,Footnote 63 nevertheless this mode of preparation produces a hard-baked pastry that might once again be described as perustus, or might simply be tostus, as per Pliny's distinction.Footnote 64 Statius, however, stresses that our hypothetical Amerian pastries are non perustis; we must, therefore, imagine that they are definitely only tostis.Footnote 65 Whether the phrase is simply intended as a litotes or is, rather, a meaningful contrast with a different type of longer-baked amerinum is impossible to say,Footnote 66 but it is certainly important here to note the parallel with the textural epithet molles that is applied to gaioli (and perhaps lucuntuli) in the previous line. The first pastries are soft, while the amerina are harder, just not tooth-breakingly hard.Footnote 67
In light of this interpretation and the textural difference it helps to establish between the (probable) pastries mentioned in the first two lines of the catalogue's second half, it is worth noting a useful parallel with Statius’ longer catalogue of Saturnalian foodstuffs in Silv. 4.9,Footnote 68 a poem that brings the Book 4 addendum to the Silvae to a close just as Silv. 1.6 brought the collection's first book to a close.Footnote 69 Here, we twice find a similar inversion of texture or density between sequentially mentioned related foods: nec lenes alicae, nec asperum far? … non lardum grave debilisve perna (‘no mild-tasting groats, no sharp-tasting emmer wheat? … no heavy bacon or limp ham?’, Stat. Silv. 4.9.31, 4.9.34).Footnote 70 The repeated pairing of foods with antithetical features in both poems is reminiscent of the structural antithesis that defines Martial's Apophoreta, with its alternation of expensive and cheap gifts;Footnote 71 and while Fitzgerald sees this alternation as an expression of Martial's personal predilection for polarity as a rhetorical construct,Footnote 72 Seo argues that questions of reciprocity and asymmetry are embedded in the gift exchange of the Saturnalia;Footnote 73 and Rimell, in turn, sees Martial's poetics as themselves deriving from ‘the mundus inversus of carnival’.Footnote 74 It may be, therefore, that we should stretch that idea of asymmetricality (whether in gift exchanges or in poetic pairings) slightly further to reflect the principle of inversion and reversal that underlies the Saturnalia as a whole. Likewise, the larger structural contrast, in the mini-catalogue of Silv. 1.6, of foreign vs local and my proposed dissection of the catalogue's second half into hyper-local origins resemble Roman's argument that Martial's Xenia and Apophoreta juxtapose ‘food-items and gift-objects [that] are designated by geographical province’ to create a reflection of Rome's status as the centre of global consumption; he likewise proposes that ‘denominazione d'origine controllata was very much part of the idiom of the urban consumer in Rome’.Footnote 75 While Roman's arguments are directed at Martial's own poetics, the similarity with what we find here in Statius suggests the possibility either that such an overt juxtaposition and blending of cultures had become a mark of the Saturnalia (just as the blending of social classes was at its roots)Footnote 76 or that Statius was picking up on Martial's Saturnalian programmatics in his own two Saturnalian compositions,Footnote 77 although without diminishing the force of the complementary local reading that I proposed above.
To return to the amerina themselves, while there is, of course, no evidence for such a pastry existing, we must remember that there is no evidence other than this poem for gaioli, either. For those who find my reasoning too fanciful, let my arguments at least help us lay to rest the idea that massis amerina non perustis refers to fresh fruit. In either case, too, as I have argued above, the familiarity of the names in the second half of the catalogue is critical, and to be contrasted with the imported imperial bounty of the first half:Footnote 78 local snacks from Latium, Etruria and Umbria; a cake that at least forms part of every Roman wedding (Juv. 6.202–3; cf. Anth. Lat. 190.49 Shackleton Bailey), if not other banquets as well; and a snack that, while of imported origin, is so common in Rome as to be notas … theatris (Mart. 11.31.10). The catalogue ends where it began, with imported goods, but it has digested this one into that which is thoroughly Roman.Footnote 79 Without recognizing the importance inherent in the regional denomination amerina, and perhaps even the element of local human labour necessary to produce these treats, we cannot fully grasp the implications of the catalogue's second half. These items are not, as Malamud proposed, representative of those who consume them; rather, I would argue, they serve as a reminder of the sweet rewards to be reaped from peacetime labor when they do not fall free from heaven,Footnote 80 set in distinct contrast with the largis gratuitum … rapinis (Silv. 1.6.16) that can be reaped as the fruits of empire.