PROSTITUTES, PIMPS, AND POLITICAL CONSPIRACIES DURING THE LATE ROMAN REPUBLIC
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Sex-Trade Laborers in Republican Political Conspiracies
An example from the decade of the 70s BCE, when the city of Rome experienced repeated outbursts of underclass violence, illustrates the role of renegade courtesans, pimps, and prostitutes in Roman urban conspiracies. The 70s BCE was marked by the growing menace of Cilician pirates, the slave revolt of Spartacus, repeated mob riots in the capital city of Rome, violence and banditry in the hinterland, native rebellions in Spain, Asia Minor, Illyria, Macedonia, and Thrace, and mutinies by the professional soldiers sworn to safeguard the republic. Evidence suggests that the violent efforts of these disparate elements were sometimes coordinated through hidden lines of communication, occasionally culminating in concerted efforts, that is, conspiracies, to topple the oligarchic regime in Rome. At the center of at least one of these conspiracies stood the Roman courtesan (meretrix) Praecia.
During the 70s BCE antagonists of the senatorial regime of the dictator L. Cornelius Sulla openly flaunted their defiance while mobilizing dissent. In 76 BCE L. Magius and L. Fannius, two Roman aristocratic military deserters working for Rome’s adversary, Mithridates VI of Pontus, passed through Italy while negotiating an alliance between the king and the renegade Roman general in Spain, Q. Sertorius. Alarmed by reports of their movements, the Roman Senate issued a decree declaring Magius and Fannius public enemies and demanding their arrest. The two men eluded its grasp, however, and journeyed unhindered to Spain, where they negotiated not only with Sertorius but also with Cn. Pompeius Magnus, the Roman general commissioned by the Senate to suppress the Spanish rebellion.3 Since they conducted their three-month cruise of the Mediterranean in a myoparo (a sleek warship popular with pirates) and sojourned in Sertorius’s pirate haunt of Dianium, it is likely that Magius and Fannius sailed the Mediterranean sea-lanes under the safe passage of the Cilician pirates.4 Their sea voyage from Pontus to Spain and back undoubtedly required layovers at a number of Italian gave voice and direction to underclass discontent, and perhaps most seriously influenced the outcome of political events. Our source tradition for this behavior is limited and arises largely from literary forms of dubious authority such as Cicero’s political speeches. The entire tradition attesting to the involvement of sex-trade laborers in republican political conspiracies is the product of what specialists in cultural studies identify as “conspiracy theory.” Daniel Pipes (1997, 21) defines conspiracy theory as the fear of a nonexistent conspiracy or the perception ports, which probably explains how the Roman Senate became alerted to their movements. In any event the lines of communication that Magius and Fannius opened between Mithridates, Sertorius, and the pirates culminated in a series of seemingly coordinated assaults on the Roman oligarchy in the following year (75 BCE). The Cilician pirates helpfully shut off the grain supply to Rome.5 By summer their blockade had provoked bread riots in the Roman forum, where a mob threatened the lives of the consuls, C. Aurelius Cotta and L. Octavius. The intimidated consuls relinquished the Sullan regime’s prohibitions against the plebeian tribuneship, and the oligarchy appeared to lose its grip on the city, which was overtaken by fiery tribunes and urban renegades.6 Mysterious figures, such as P. Cornelius Cethegus, a senator and a notorious political trimmer and social outcast from the previous civil war, suddenly emerged as powerbrokers because of their influence with the mob.7 In 74 BCE Cethegus compelled newly elected Roman consul L. Licinius Lucullus, a distinguished general and the hand-picked successor to the dictator Sulla, to resort to “bribes and flattery” to secure his military command against Mithridates. Cethegus’s humiliation of Lucullus did not end there. If one can believe Plutarch, the object of Lucullus’s bribery was not so much Cethegus himself as it was Cethegus’s mistress Praecia, a courtesan “whose wit and beauty were celebrated throughout the city”:
"For at that time Cethegus through his popularity controlled the city and when he joined Praecia’s following and became her lover, political power passed entirely into her hands. No public measure passed unless Cethegus favored it, and Cethegus did nothing except with Praecia’s approval" (Luc. 6.3)
Despite the brevity of this, our only record of this woman, her emergence as a mob personality during this crisis, seems significant.8 As Plutarch observes:
"In other respects she was nothing more than a courtesan, but she used her associates and companions to further the political ambitions of her friends, and so added to her other charms the reputation of being a true comrade, and one who could bring things to pass. She thus acquired the greatest possible influence" (Luc. 6.4)
Given the meagerness of the surviving record, historians legitimately question its importance, uncertain whether to dismiss it as fiction, exaggeration, or aberration. In any case, the conspiracy failed: Cethegus and Praecia disappeared from view as rapidly as they appeared; Lucullus reduced Mithridates to the status of a refugee; and in the subsequent twelve years Pompey defeated Sertorius, Spartacus, the Cilician pirates, and Mithridates in turn. These successes did little, however, to offset the rising wave of urban uprisings in Rome, suggesting that the underlying social causes of the unrest were deeply rooted.
Roman oligarchic sparring with city mobs continued unabated in the ensuing decades, with conspiracies forged between renegade aristocrats, pimps, prostitutes, and underclass, antisocial elements forming a recurring pattern in urban politics. Organizers of urban protests in Rome, and aristocratic politicians aligned with these organizers, appear to have relied on those who congregated in the shops, bars, taverns, inns, and brothels of the city to mobilize and to galvanize their followings (Rauh, Dillon, and McClain 2008). According to Sallust, for example, pimps, wine dealers, butchers, and knife-brandishing muggers supported the uprising of Sulla’s adversary, M. Aemilius Lepidus, the renegade consul of 78 BC (Hist. 3.63; cf. 1.77.7 M.). Sallust’s moralizing tendencies must be borne in mind when assessing the worth of this information. The same author accused Catiline in 63 BCE of forging an urban conspiracy out of proprietors of shops and taverns, elderly indebted prostitutes (common frequenters of taverns), and want on male and female aristocrats (Cat. 13, 14, 24; cf. Welwei 1981, 66). M. Tullius Cicero, Catiline’s principal adversary and another writer with an obvious axe to grind, condemned Catiline’s followers as “poisoners, gladiators, robbers, assassins, parricides, forgers, cheaters, gluttons, wastrels, adulterers, prostitutes, corrupters of the youth, and juvenile delinquents” (Cat. 2.7; cf. 22). In a rare instance of understatement, Cicero asserts (Cat. 4.17) that Catiline recruited his conspirators from the ranks of those generally qui in tabernis sunt. As Nicolas K. Rauh, Matthew J. Dillon, and T. Davina McClain (2008, 232) note, this expression appears to refer broadly to anyone “residing in,” “deriving profit from,” or “earning livings” in Roman shops and taverns. Cicero (Dom. 13) describes an ally of Clodius named Sergius as a concitator tabernariorum. Of particular concern to Cicero were aristocratic conspirators such as Publicius and Munatius, “whose debts contracted in the popinae [tavern brothels] caused no small degree of anxiety to the republic” (Cat. 2.4). Preying on the foibles of morally bankrupt aristocrats such as these, Catiline, according to Cicero, organized a debauched coalition in the brothels and taverns of the Roman slums. When Catiline’s conspiracy began to unravel, Cicero states (Cat. 4.17) that its sole remaining at-large member, P. Cornelius Lentulus, attempted to incite public disturbances by dispatching a pimp (leno) throughout the tabernae. Simply put, Cicero accused Catiline of having exploited venues of the Roman sex trade as loci for male bonding and political intrigue. Catiline allegedly used the evening banquets and orgies that occurred at these locations to forge a common sense of identity among an otherwise diverse constituency and to generate hostility against the senatorial establishment:
"If in their drinking and gambling parties (Catiline’s supporters) were content with feasts and prostitutes, they would be beyond redemption, but tolerable at least to the rest of us. But who can tolerate this—that indolent men should plot against the bravest, drunkards against the sober, men asleep against men awake; that men lying at feasts, embracing women of ill repute, languid with wine, crammed with food, crowned with chaplets, reeking of ointments, and worn out with debauchery, belch out in their discourse the murder of all good men and the conflagration of the city?" (Cat. 2.10)
The importance of these localities, as well as of the sex-trade workers within, to the formation of urban mob conspiracies seems evident, therefore, at least within the context of this literature.
Accusations that underclass conspiracies coalesced in tavern and brothel environments persisted through the end of the republican era. According to Cicero, during the 50s BCE, P. Clodius bolstered his mob following with prostitutes, runaway slaves, gladiators, and muggers (Mil. 55).9 Like Catiline before him, Clodius’s mastery of the mob stemmed directly from his ability to recruit “leadership cadres” in the tabernae. According to Cicero and Asconius, Clodius’s control of Roman workshops and taverns was so complete that in 58 and again in 52 BCE he and his henchmen compelled huge demonstrations in the Roman Forum by summarily closing tabernae throughout the city (Cic. Dom. 54; cf. 89–90; Ascon. 41, 52 C.).10 Likewise, according to Cicero, actors, actresses, gamblers, pimps, muggers, and gladiators formed the core of M. Antonius’s political support during the 40s. In much the same way that Lucullus suffered humiliation at the hand of Praecia, Cicero, his fellow senators, and all “respectable citizens” were forced to endure the sight of Antony’s mistress, a notorious mime and meretrix named (Volumnia) Cytheris, conveyed in a litter alongside his wife in the train of his consular legions.11
These accusations must be weighed against the fact that our main source, Cicero, regarded nearly every one of these political figures as adversaries. That he relied on slanderous accusations to blacken their reputations in public debate has long been recognized (Kubiak 1989; May 1988; Richlin 1983, 86, 109–10; Tatum 1999, 78, 142). The charge that these and other political enemies were debauched frequenters of taverns and brothels form an unmistakable pattern in his rhetoric.12 The fact that so much of this information arises from Cicero’s oratory appears on the surface to weaken the argument that underclass sex-trade laborers played a significant role in these conspiracies. Modern scholars typically greet the evidence with skepticism, tending either to dismiss it as so much Ciceronian hyperbole or to ignore it altogether.13 Either recourse fails to acknowledge that Sallust, who was Cicero’s contemporary, constructed what was essentially the same conspiracist narrative for his depiction of the Catilinarian conspiracy. Even when allowing for the likelihood that Sallust (not to mention later sources) relied considerably on Cicero’s writings for understanding the events, the selective processes employed by modern scholars to construct their knowledge of this affair warrants scrutiny.
Some sort of conspiracy undeniably occurred in 63 BCE. The question remains how many extraneous details surrounding the Catilinarian conspiracy may reasonably be accepted. Whether pimps and elderly prostitutes were fundamental to the formation of this conspiracy falls subject to the same scrutiny as other accusations—for example, that prominent aristocrats were similarly involved, including M. Licinius Crassus, C. Julius Caesar, P. Clodius, M. Antonius, C. Scribonius Curio the Younger, and M. Caelius Rufus.14 As Pipes observes, “a second challenge to discerning conspiracy theories results from their containing enough truth and reasonableness to make them plausible. An element of veracity gets mixed with a much larger proportion of fantasy” (1997, 31). Robert Robins and Jerrald Post likewise observe, “because paranoia is a distortion of a healthy response to the danger that exists in politics and because threats appear and disappear over time, a perception of enemies may be accurate at one time and inaccurate at another” (1997, 34).
In lieu of proof, we resort to modes of argumentation that are invariably subjective (Pipes 1997, 37). Procedural arguments such as “common sense,” “historical judgment,” and “scholarly consensus” are typically brought to bear. As cultural studies specialists observe, all three means of interpretation enjoy questionable validity, especially when it comes to delegitimizing popular forms of knowledge such as conspiracy theory. As Clare Birchall observes, commonsensical interpretations are flawed because they imply that a sound interpretation or conversely an unsound interpretation or even, in the case of conspiracy theory, an overinterpretation can be deduced or recognized on the basis of reason (2006, 75). As the example of the list of alleged Catilinarian conspirators demonstrates, good interpretation is often impossible to distinguish from “overinterpretation.” Historical judgment, which relies on the presence or absence of contradictory testimony as well as on arguments predicated on a “higher awareness” of the facts surrounding an event, is equally vulnerable owing to its reliance on intrinsically hypothetical constructs. As Birchall notes, “conspiracy theory can suggest that all knowledge is only ever theory; that the relationship between a sign and its referent is necessarily inflected by imaginary processes; and that any transcendental truth claims rely on contingent strategies of legitimization” (2006, 73). Where consensus is concerned, Jean-François Lyotard argues, according to Birchall, that as a means of regulating academic discourse, consensus “merely observes science behaving like any other ‘power center whose behaviour is governed by a principle of homeostasis’” (2006, 80). Consensus gains efficiency, in other words, by threatening to eliminate dissident opinions from the realm of discourse. “Individual aspirations need to fall in line with the needs of the system” (Birchall 2006, 80). In short, before rejecting ancient testimony that Roman sex-trade workers were implicated in republican political conspiracies, classical scholars need to reexamine the means by which we go about formulating knowledge in the first place. What is at stake here is not merely the disputed role of renegade courtesans, pimps, and prostitutes in republican urban conspiracies, nor the dubious character of the source tradition, nor even the epistemological standards used to assess this source tradition. Alongside all these issues stands the question how we as classicists are to approach conspiracist source traditions and devise knowledge constructs from evidence so heavily rooted in ancient popular culture. As Birchall observes, “the treatment of conspiracy theories by some accepted rational discourses of inquiry highlights a preference at work for only certain knowledges and their strategies of legitimization, prompting the question: what causes the selective acceptance of the acceptable?” (2006, 44).
Sex-Trade Laborers and Ancient Conspiracy Theory
Let us hypothesize that the evidence for the role of Roman sex-trade workers in republican political conspiracies arose from the minds of Cicero and Sallust and that it amounts to little more than deliberate fabrication or at best paranoid delusion on their parts. In this manner the evidence lends itself to analysis according to contemporary models of conspiracy theory, enabling us to gauge whether the character of this testimony was “overinterpretational.” As described by Pipes, Robins, and Post, conspiracy theories typically work in two directions — from the bottom up and from the top down.15 In the case of aristocratic writers such as Cicero and Sallust, the theory would have thus disseminated from the top down. Conspiracy theories of great magnitude usually contain three basic elements: the existence of a powerful evil and a clandestine group that aspires to global hegemony; dupes and agents who extend the group’s influence throughout the community so that it is on the verge of succeeding; and a valiant but embattled group that must urgently unite to stave off catastrophe (Pipes 1997,22). The conspiracy is typically described as already powerful and rapidly growing (Robins and Post 1997, 37). Sometimes the political paranoid’s beliefs in conspiracy and hostility originate in reality.16 Reality aside, the leader’s objective remains to induce conflict by generating public hostility against his perceived enemies and to create a bellicose climate that primes his supporters for war. The leader’s use of conspiracy theory ultimately nurtures murderous instincts against the accused, depriving them of their humanity and rendering them vulnerable to elimination (Pipes 1997, 177). While hyperbole and personal invective furnished standard tools of argumentation in ancient oratory, the template for conspiracy theory conforms remarkably with the descriptions employed by Cicero and Sallust. In their opinion the Catilinarian conspirators represented a powerful evil and a clandestine group aspiring to dominate Rome; they exploited indebted elements at all levels of society so as to extend their rapidly growing influence; and Cicero clearly perceived himself as the leader of a valiant but embattled group urgently attempting to stave off catastrophe (Favory 1978).
Additional parallels between modern conspiracy theory and the rhetoric of Cicero and Sallust become apparent. Conspiracy theory rarely requires the demonstration of logic or proof; rather conspiracists assume that “things are not what they seem and everything is connected” (Birchall 2006, 34). Conspiracy theories tend to be more rigorously logical and have fewer loose ends than ordinary events in real life. On the assumption that appearances deceive, conspiracists reject conventional information and seek out exotic and little-known variants. Many facts that originally seem correct are inevitably undone by the conspiracist’s effort to locate causal relationships where none exist (Pipes 1997, 30).17 To render their theories “venerable” and less questionable, the conspiracist tends to repeat old explanations and to invoke the authority of predecessors. As Pipes notes, “there is tendency for one conspiracy theory to overlap with another forming a giant web enclosing centuries and continents. Each group is expected to pass on its views and secrets to the next organization” (1997, 29). Not only do conspiracists typically see all conspiracies as linked but they also tend to recirculate the same basic assertions with slight variations and revealing inconsistencies. For example, recent conspiracists attempting to expose the threat of the “Trilateral Commission” invariably invent a direct link to past “conspiracies” such as the Free Masons or the Illuminati, who in turn were attributed descent from the Knights Templar and King Hiram of Jerusalem. Piling on theory on top of conspiracy theory, conspiracists resort to rumor, forgery, an overabundance of learned factoids, and anything else that furnishes their argument an aura of credibility. Much like Cicero and Sallust’s denigration of Catiline, the conspiracist attempts to blacken his adversary’s reputation beyond repair. Accusations of sexual promiscuity and religious insult form standard conspiracist tactics. As Pipes notes, “conspiracist writings constitute a quite literal form of pornography (though political rather than sexual)... Recreational conspiracism titillates sophisticates much as does recreational sex” (1997, 49). To denigrate the conspiracist’s adversary as sexually and religiously profligate helps to isolate him from respectable society. This particular facet of conspiracy theory seems highly germane to Cicero’s and Sallust’s assertions that sex-trade laborers were involved in Roman conspiracies. By identifying Catiline with pimps and prostitutes, Cicero and Sallust may simply have been fabricating salacious details to titillate the imaginations of their audience. Sex-trade laborers in Rome are similarly identifiable with Pipes’s dupes and agents who help to extend the conspiracy’s influence throughout the community.
In addition to the conspiracist model used to attack adversarial leaders, a similar one is used to indict their followings. Robins and Post explain that conspiracists attempt to dehumanize these followings in the public eye by implicating them in an established delegitimizing myth (1997, 43). Typically the conspiratorial element is portrayed as a clandestine group united by hidden practices and dedicated to the destruction of respectable society. In modern examples the accused groups typically assume the form of an underclass or perpetually marginalized elements of society who have risen beyond their ordinary station in life. “People like to take the newly risen down a peg and a charge of witchcraft could do that” (Robins and Post 1997, 50). Charges of sexual promiscuity and religious deviancy invariably help isolate these elements in societies caught in the grip of imagined conspiracies. The singling out of sex-trade laborers in Rome by Cicero and Sallust conforms remarkably with this facet of conspiracism, since these people were typically non-Roman, of slave origin, alienated, impoverished, and marginalized within Roman society. One other factor that contributes to the mass hysteria directed against a marginalized group is the tendency for outbreaks such as those to occur in disintegrating societies. “In these circumstances, ordinarily self-sufficient and psychologically healthy individuals overwhelmed by a society in chaos swell the ranks of the alienated and psychologically discontented” (Robins and Post 1997, 97). In other words, a society undergoing social and political unrest like the late Roman Republic was particularly vulnerable to conflict induced by conspiracy theories.
As constructed by the narratives of Sallust and Cicero, the role of sex-trade laborers in republican conspiracies conforms well to the model for conspiracism. Underclass, marginalized elements are singled out by our sources and charged with sexual depravity and religious sacrilege alongside leaders such as Catiline, Clodius, and Antonius. And not just sex-trade laborers are singled out: muggers, slaves, foreign ambassadors, and bankrupt veterans and aristocrats are also indicted. One must ask, nonetheless, how writers such as Cicero and Sallust were able to convince the Roman public that sex-trade laborers in the tabernae posed a convincing threat to society. Something about their behavior must have given everyday Romans pause for the accusation to have achieved the desired effect of dread and hostility. The character of conspiracy theory, and its tendency to pile theory on top of theory, justifies an investigation of a delegitimizing myth that implicated sex-trade laborers in conspiracies backward through time and space.
In this regard it is interesting to observe that classical and early Hellenistic hetairai in Athens reportedly exerted a similarly destabilizing influence on their respective societies. This suggests possibly that Roman sources such as Cicero and Sallust adapted and modeled their descriptions of sex-trade laborers on preexisting stories about Athenian prostitutes. Owing to the existence of pornographic literature that was available to writers in the time of Sallust and Cicero, an assessment of the conspiratorial tendencies of Greek hetairai and the concerns they raised for the Athenian public holds potential insight for conspiracism in Rome.18 The problem of determining whether either of these traditions is reliable, however, remains. Nearly every facet of the behavior of Athenian hetairai exists as unsubstantiated rumor, and the women themselves remain so poorly documented that they loom as the ancient equivalent of urban legends (M. Henry 1995, 3–7). It stands to reason, nonetheless, that the greater the similarity between the Athenian and Roman traditions, the greater the likelihood that Sallust and Cicero drew on this earlier testimony to forge their delegitimizing myth.
The Role of Greek Hetairai in Athenian Conspiracy Theory
Roman descriptions of the subversive influence of urban sex laborers conform remarkably with those of critics elsewhere in the Mediterranean world, most particularly in the Hellenistic east. According to Greek literature an early (sixth and fifth century BCE) tradition of courtesan-driven symposia (drinking parties) in cities such as Athens, Corinth, and Miletus evolved with the conquest of Alexander the Great into a widely dispersed and highly unsettling phenomenon. According to the source tradition, classical and Hellenistic Greek courtesans used their beauty and their talents to extract payment from wealthy males, thus acquiring reputations as rapacious, mercenary, and predatory.19 The excerpted and abridged record furnished by Athenaeus (13), for example, indicates that prostitutes, particularly highly prized hetairai, enjoyed untoward mobility in Athenian society.20 Admittedly his backward-looking, airbrushed construct of “the great age of the courtesan” displays hyperbole about sex-trade laborers equal to that in the narratives of Cicero and Sallust. The anecdotes he presents for Greek courtesans are collected, arranged, and interpreted in a nostalgic way so as to create a pornographized view of their experience (McClure 2003a; M. Henry 1992). In other words, just as we must take Sallust and Cicero’s criticisms with a grain of salt, we must constantly bear in mind the distorted prism through which Athenaeus views Greek prostitution. This having been said, Athenaeus furnishes a detailed list of politicians, philosophers, poets, artists, and actors who communed with Greek courtesans from the sixth to fourth centuries BCE. Apart from the financial drain that these women imposed on their aristocratic lovers, another sinister aspect of their behavior appears to have resulted from the vulnerability of Greek males themselves. According to the literary tradition, members of the Athenian elite repeatedly became emotionally involved with these women. In a few instances Greek courtesans allegedly used the power they held over their lovers to influence if not to usurp political power. Aspasia’s alleged influence over Pericles presents only the most celebrated example (M. Henry 1995, 13).21 The tradition attesting to courtesans assuming political power was even stronger among neighboring monarchies such as Thessaly and Macedonia. The tendency of Aegean and later Hellenistic monarchs to associate with hetairai often resulted in the installment of courtesans, such as Thargelia, Philinna, Phryne, Pythionike, Glycera, Lais, and Agathocleia, as royal consorts and queens.22 This tendency appears to have made leaders of representative governments such as the Athenian democracy and the Roman Republic extremely uneasy. As Aristotle wrote (Pol. 1.1269b32), “For what difference is there between a rule of women and a state in which women rule the rulers?” We observe that courtesans were alleged to have frequented all levels of Athenian society, to have drained the financial resources of its leading citizens, and to have posed risks to the well being of Athenian political institutions.
A second source of concern to Athenian elites was posed by elderly, unattractive prostitutes at the bottom of the sex-trade hierarchy. These women were the precursors of the notorious sagae of Hellenistic-Roman literature.23 Many of these, such as Lais and Phryne, had originally enjoyed wealth and notoriety as hetairai but were impoverished in old age. Older, “used-up” prostitutes assumed secondary roles as gatekeepers, messengers, caretakers, and suppliers of cosmetics and potions.24 These elderly prostitutes supplemented diminishing incomes by furnishing the ancient equivalent of a drug trade, servicing fellow prostitutes and others with a wide array of aphrodisiacs, cosmetics, and magical incantations, allegedly handed down from ancient sorceresses of Thessaly.25 Within the subculture of prostitution these aids and services enjoyed widespread popularity. Just as pimps and innkeepers endured nefarious reputations as thieves, muggers, kidnappers, and murderers, elderly, frail sagae were popularly associated with witchcraft, magical potions, and poisonings.26 Greek and Roman poets indicate that even the most elegant hetairai and meretrices were never far removed from these crones, relying on them as personal advisors.27 By positioning themselves beside popular courtesans, sagae retained access to the highest levels of elite society and dispensed their goods to the wider community. Anyone who frequented venues of prostitution, therefore, potentially came in contact with women such as these. The fear of this particular aspect of the sex trade was pronounced. According to the literary tradition, L. Lucullus, the general who temporarily aligned with Praecia in 74 BCE, and the poet Lucretius both died from abuse of love potions ( pocula desiderii.)28 Horace long persisted in the belief that he had been poisoned by his aging mistress Canidia (Epod. 3, 5, 17; Sat. 1.8.19–50). Propertius insisted (3.7.24, 4.5.5–20, 4.7.35,43–44) that the streetwalker Nomas poisoned his courtesan-mistress, Corinna, and that Corinna’s friends Petalas and Lalage likewise died mysteriously. Martial derided one particularly loathsome, elderly prostitute as a Thessalian witch (Mart.2.33, 4.65, 7.67, 70, 9.29, 40, 62, 10.22, 12.22).29 In short, it is highly likely that Roman sources seized on the literary tradition describing the sagae and recirculated it as a form of conspiracy theory. By drawing a connection between a prostitute and Thessalian witches, Martial merely invoked a long-lived, delegitimizing myth about prostitutes in general.
Where evidence for the participation of sex-trade laborers in wider political conspiracies is concerned, the Athenian record is decidedly less substantial than its Roman counterpart. Athenian sources occasionally recognized prostitutes as threats to public safety. For example, several women were allegedly prosecuted for impiety (asebeia), murder, and poisoning. Where the capital charge of asebeia is concerned, Aspasia, Neaira, Phryne, and possibly Lais were indicted, either because the charge allowed for a broad range of interpretation or because something about the women’s behavior was sufficiently alarming to warrant condemnation for sacrilege.30 Demosthenes allegedly prosecuted two subversive women for poisonings during the late fourth century BCE. One Theoris of Lemnos, described alternately as a priestess (hiereia), a prophetess (mantis), or a druggist (miara pharmakida), was executed along with her entire family allegedly for inciting slaves to plot against their masters.31 A Ninos, also described as a priestess and a poisoner, was executed for allegedly supplying love potions to young men.32 While neither of these women are specifically referred to as prostitutes, their activities certainly conform to those of the sagae. The late fifth-century hetaira Nais was ominously nicknamed Anticyra (“Hellebore,” a poisonous flowering plant), allegedly because she had amassed a large quantity of this common poison.33
A third source of fear generated by sex-trade laborers in Athenian society may have arisen, therefore, from these women’s ability to utilize their popularity to defy public morality. Several Athenian hetairai appear to have fostered what Timothy Gilfoyle describes as a “sexual democracy,” thereby creating vertical connections across the socioeconomic spectrum that enabled them to forge political associations of a highly improbable sort.34 The most talented prostitutes successfully enticed wealthy citizens and young aristocrats into an underclass world of sex establishments where they came in contact with social inferiors (Rauh, Dillon, and McClain 2008, 234). As the glue that held this culture together, Athenian hetairai appear to have enabled underclass males to impose egalitarian norms on their social superiors (Gilfoyle 1994, 224–50). Although there is little evidence to suggest that Athenian hetairai ultimately used this influence to mobilize political conspiracies against the government in the manner described in Rome, they appear nonetheless to have recognized the value of cultivating organized followings in possible imitation of Athenian demagogues. As a result, the Athenian establishment seems to have interpreted these efforts as potential threats to the urban social fabric. This in turn may explain why so many of these women were prosecuted in high-profile trials.
According to Athenaeus, many beautiful prostitutes, including Gnathaina, her granddaughter Gnathainion, Lais, Pythionike, Phryne, Leme, and Pasiphile, imposed egalitarian principles on their lovers, much to the chagrin of those who were elite. Several of these hetairai charged the same low price to all their lovers.35 For Athenaeus to repeat this observation as often as he does suggests that this policy was atypical if not extraordinary.36 Seemingly insignificant at first glance, the fact that so many women pursued this policy suggests that it was an intentional, if not deliberate, form of mutual imitation. Accordingly, these hetairai appear to have engaged in a deliberate effort to render their services affordable to underclass clients and thereby augment the size of their clientele. Some courtesans used these pricing systems specifically to assert their authority over elite lovers. The glamorous Phryne allegedly humiliated the wealthy philosopher Aristippus by charging him an exorbitant fee while allowing the vagabond, Diogenes the Cynic, to visit her for free. She also provoked complaint from the playwright Moerichus by demanding that he pay her a mina while knowingly charging some foreigner a mere two gold pieces.37 However capricious this behavior may appear, it reinforces the suspicion that Phryne used her sexual attraction to dominate her wealthier clients. Apparently they were powerless to resist. The glamorous and sarcastic Gnathaina went so far as to publish her egalitarian house rules in formal verse, employing language deliberately mimicking that of the peripatetic philosophers. According to Athenaeus (13.579e–585a), Gnathaina “ran her brothel as an open house, offering access to any male able to pay in advance and willing to abide by her published nomos sussitikos [banqueting rule]. Its opening line proclaimed, ‘This law, equal and the same for all, has been written in 323 verses’” (13.579e–585b; Herter 1960, 102).38 This fourth-century BCE hetaira engaged in sexual liaisons with an array of companions, including the comic playwright Diphilus, the actor Andronicus, an alcoholic gambler named Pausanias, an unnamed Syrian who plied her with small compliments, a parasite (freeloader) named Chaerophon, several rich foreign merchants in the Piraeus, a wrestler, several young boys, including a butcher’s apprentice in the marketplace, a soldier, and numerous mastigias, a term used generally for whip-scarred slaves and convicts.39 The fact that several of Athenaeus’s anecdotes record witticisms made by Athenian hetairai at the expense of such convicts seems particularly significant. The recurring proximity of these criminals to glamorous hetairai seems to indicate that some women made a point of adding criminals to the mix of their sexual democracies. Aristocrats desiring to “date” these women, in other words, would have had to pay the same price, wait in the same line, and essentially compete for the attentions of an hetaira with the likes of philosophers, actors, parasites, gamblers, athletes, foreign merchants, soldiers, market vendors, youths, slaves, and whip-scarred slaves and convicts.40 The inevitable result, intended or otherwise, was an effective social leveling in the brothels that was imposed by the hetairai themselves. This in turn supports the argument that these women consciously imitated and competed with one another while constructing their popular followings. Returning to the Roman examples for a moment, not only does this pattern of behavior demonstrate how a meretrix like Praecia could come to exert some political influence at Rome, but it also helps to explain the sense of alarm that sex-trade laborers incited among the Roman voting public. The lack of evidence for Athenian political conspiracies notwithstanding, the recurring pattern of indictments, prosecutions, and convictions of Athenian courtesans suggests that “respectable society” in Athens feared the popularity of these women every bit as much.
The ultimate danger posed by Athenian hetairai emerges from the fact that most of these women were foreigners. They used their popularity to improve their positions in the community, something particularly alarming in a society such as Athens where citizenship was zealously guarded. The hetaira Neaira of Corinth crucially illustrates this point (Hamel 2002). As foreigners, typically of slave origin, hetairai demonstrated a remarkable degree of upward mobility in Athenian society, on rare occasions transcending that of freeborn Athenian women.41 This at any rate would appear to be the basis of accusations formulated by Athenian conspiracists. Neaira offers a detailed example of such social infiltration. Like Aspasia, this mid-fourth-century BCE hetaira revealed a remarkable talent for ingratiating herself with Athenian male citizens and thereby attaining status in Athenian society disproportionate to her legal standing. Whether the accusations made against her by the Athenian Apollodoros were legitimate is unimportant to the present argument. Since Neaira’s record arises from a legal oration employing rhetorical logic that would be admired and emulated by Cicero, her experience offers insight to the kind of fear Athenian “conspiracists” attempted to incite against sextrade laborers in their audience, in this instance 501 Athenian jurors.42
According to the testimony in the speech delivered by Apollodoros sometime in the 340s BCE, Neaira was purchased and raised as a hetaira along with six other female children by a slave-madam named Nikarete in Corinth. Neaira and her “sisters” were prostituted as preadolescents and rapidly cultivated friendships with numerous rich foreign customers, especially Athenians.43 In adolescence Neaira visited Athens on several occasions (during the Great Panatheneia, for example) and associated with men such as the poet Xenocleides, the comic actor Hipparchus, and a wealthy Athenian named Phrynion ([Dem.] 59.24–26). These contacts became important when the opportunity arose for her to purchase her freedom ([Dem.] 59.29). To raise the 20 minae purchase price, she summoned to Corinth several of her former lovers including Phrynion, who agreed to purchase her freedom and to relocate her to Athens as his lover. Since Phrynion belonged to a relatively high-ranking family, his decision to live with her opened a potentially significant pathway into Athenian society.44 Neaira’s relationship with Phrynion quickly turned abusive, however, and she fled Athens for Megara, absconding with household goods and servants. Her fortunes declined in Megara, but in 371 BCE she attached herself to yet another Athenian named Stephanus and returned to Athens. According to Apollodoros, Stephanus convinced Neaira to live with him in the city as his wife ([Dem.] 59.35–37). At this point, Neaira’s household included her two sons, Proxenus and Ariston, a daughter named Phano (according to Apollodoros a beautiful young courtesan much like her mother [(Dem.) 59.50–52; 59.67–70; 59.73]), two maidservants, and a butler.45
According to the prosecution, on arrival in Athens Stephanus and Neaira assumed the guise of a legitimate Athenian married couple (Hamel 2002, 49), even going so far as to pass off her children as Stephanus’s legitimate Athenian progeny by a previous marriage.46 This last ploy led to several potentially embarrassing scandals and ultimately exposed the two of them to the legal trouble that formed the basis of Apollodoros’s prosecution. In one instance Stephanus arranged a marriage between Phano and the naïve young Athenian aristocrat Theogenes who had attained the office of archon basileus with help from Stephanus himself. As the wife of the archon basileus (basilinna), Phano performed sacred rites that were exclusively restricted to a select handful of well-born Athenian females.47 When this sacrilege was exposed, Theogenes had little choice but to divorce his wife and charges were brought against Stephanus and Neaira for asebeia ([Dem.] 59.9, 43). The outcome of this litigation is unknown as is the extent to which any of the accusations were shown to be not so much legitimately true as convincing to the Athenian jurors present. Nonetheless the case presented by Apollodoros offers a useful summary of the pattern of sex-trade behavior that provoked anxiety in an Athenian lay audience.
That Apollodoros distorted the record for Neaira is revealed by his decidedly unflattering and inaccurate description of Stephanus, a longtime adversary who had previously prosecuted members of Apollodoros’s own family.48 Konstantinos Kapparis (1998), Debra Hamel (2002) and Allison Glazebrook (2005a) accordingly question other details furnished by Apollodoros, including the charges that Neaira and Stephanus’s sons were illegitimate or that Phano worked as a courtesan like her mother. It is not so much the authenticity of these details that concerns us, however, as it is the argument that Apollodoros constructs to sway the minds of the jurors. In much the same manner that Cicero and Sallust would weave lurid depictions of renegade aristocrats and prostitutes colluding to subvert the republic to alarm their audiences, Apollodoros paints a disturbing picture of Neaira’s progressive infiltration into Athenian society. He incites his audience with the fear that women like Neaira will use their illicit affairs with Athenian elites to destroy the urban social fabric ([Dem.] 59.89–113). By claiming to be a legitimate Athenian wife and by repeatedly forwarding her illegitimate children as respectable citizens, she made a mockery of past grants of Athenian citizenship so zealously guarded by ballots and legal challenges in the Athenian assembly (89). With equal effrontery Neaira’s daughter Phano had conducted sacred rites legally prohibited to those who otherwise obtained legitimately sanctioned grants of citizenship. Even their progeny could not conduct these rites without verifying descent from legitimate Athenian females. Apollodoros insists that the jurors, by failing to convict Neaira of sacrilege, risk rendering the laws that governed grants of citizenship meaningless, polluting the body politic and violating Athens’ standing with the gods. Along the same line Apollodoros argues that by acquitting Neaira the jurors would open the floodgates to additional courtesans wishing to pose as Athenian wives, thus imperiling the status of Athenian women themselves. Poor maidens, whose chief attraction lay in their ability as Athenian citizens to procreate legitimate offspring for Athenian males, could thus be replaced by foreign prostitutes free to produce illegitimate children and to obtain for them civic status and the political and religious offices of the state. Drawing on the reputation of courtesans and sagae as poisoners, Apollodoros metaphorically depicts these women as poisoners of the state. Neaira comes off as a master schemer determined to undermine the stability of Athenian society.49 As he argues to the jurors:
"You must cast your vote in the interest of legitimate Athenian women, as well as in the interest of the state, the laws, and the religion. This is the only way that you prevent Athenian women from being held in the same esteem as prostitutes and insure that Athenian women who have been raised by their relatives with the greatest care, grace, and modesty and have been given in marriage according to the laws will not be seen as standing on equal footing with a whore who in numerous obscene ways has bestowed her favors many times a day, catch-as-catch-can, with any and all customers who so desire." (114)
In short, Apollodoros’s speech nearly prefigures the political invective employed by Cicero. Apollodoros deliberately exaggerates and distorts the role of Neaira in order to titillate his audience while blackening Stephanus’s reputation (Glazebrook 2005a). Conceivably, Apollodoros relies on well-worn delegitimizing myths about Athenian hetairai to bias the jury against Neaira and Stephanus.50 Like Cicero, in other words, Apollodoros employs commonly believed attributes of conspiracy theory to build his case.
From a political standpoint the example of Neaira’s behavior hardly compares with that of Praecia. Her ambitions were personal, not political. This suggests that the majority of hetairai and meretrices in either city were more typically disinterested in political controversies. Given their relationships with local aristocrats, most of these women were possibly more inclined to identify themselves with the prevailing attitude of the hierarchy, an attitude that generally condoned extramarital affairs with prostitutes. Males in both the Roman and Greek hierarchies clearly surrounded themselves with women of this sort and it would appear that only the bravest, most successful, or most popular of these women actually dared to use their celebrity for anything more than personal aggrandizement. What the Roman examples of politically subversive sex-trade laborers may indicate, therefore, is the potential influence these professionals could obtain among the sizable underclass population in Rome. The difference in population size for the two cities — a conservative estimate puts the inhabitants of Rome at 600,000 in the mid-first century BCE and the inhabitants of Athens at 150,000 in the mid-fourth century BCE — possibly explains the differing political ambitions of their respective sex-trade laborers.51 The breadth of the urban underclass at Rome arguably rendered it more disjointed and uncontrollable to its ruling class. Radical politicians employing sex-trade laborers in their followings were probably better able to plumb the depths of social discontent at Rome and thereby incite public disturbances. In any event, there appear to have been no similar examples of “social revolutions” incited by sex-trade laborers in Athens.
Like Neaira, most Athenian hetairai were resident aliens of slave origin whose low status eliminated the possibility of citizenship. As the example of Neaira indicates, the greatest threat conjured up by Athenian conspiracists was the potential for these women to insinuate themselves directly into the urban mainstream, in the process gaining advantage over freeborn citizen females. In the case of a few women such as Thargelia and Aspasia, this ambition was possibly facilitated by the fact that they were originally elite females who were forced to migrate to communities overseas. In addition to their beauty, their talents, and their sexual favors, they brought with them an informed awareness of the potential influence to be wielded by women in their positions. But these sex-trade laborers appear to have focused their attention more on obtaining personal privileges, as demonstrated by the example of Neaira, than they did on instigating popular uprisings per se. In the Athenian mind’s eye what the delegitimizing myth about sex-trade laborers indicated was that foreign hetairai such as Aspasia and Neaira encountered seemingly endless opportunities for personal advancement. From Lysias to Xenocleides, Hipparchus, Phrynion, Stephanus, Phrastor, Theogenes, and others, Neaira was depicted as an illegitimate social climber and cultural transgressor who used sexual favors to ingratiate herself with Athenian male citizens, insidiously infiltrating respectable Athenian society to obtain rank and standing for her family. What Athenians feared most about women like Neaira, therefore, was the irresistible manner with which they solicited the attention of Athenian men and the success they obtained thereby.
Conclusion
Modern conspiracy theory furnishes a suitable vehicle for analyzing the perceived dangers of sex-trade laborers in ancient Athens and Rome in that it enables us to grasp the extent and character of the fear that sex-trade laborers incited in the general public. The evidence suggests that these fears were long-standing and that ancient conspiracists drew on them to devise delegitimizing myths to defame not only sex-trade laborers themselves but also citizens tainted by association with them. Ancient conspiracy theory directed against sex-trade laborers typically exhibited an “overinterpretation” of the nature of the threat. Conspiracy theory creates what is in essence a forged form of knowledge about the world in question (Birchall 2006, 81). Despite the hyperreal character of this knowledge, conspiracy theory represents a constitutive factor in interpretation prior to the act of any exclusionary gesture. Rather than render a lack of meaning, conspiracy theory helps to expose a condition of the historical reality, namely, that its simulation and iteration in different contexts generates an exaggerated other, an alternative, popular version of the truth. As modern witnesses centuries removed from the societies that constructed delegitimizing myths about Greco-Roman sex-trade laborers, we may legitimately question our ability to reconstruct any accurate knowledge of the threat posed by these professionals, particularly when the content of our available source material is inherently “overinterpretational” in form. Although we can hardly expect to achieve some semblance of reality from this tradition, neither can we afford to disregard the content that it furnishes. As Birchall observes, “conspiracy theory puts on display a possibility of reading, the invisibility of which (achieved through processes of non-recognition or de-legitimization) other knowledge - producing discourses rely upon” (2006, 74). The substance to the threat posed by ancient sex-trade laborers in Rome and Athens remains ultimately “a hidden occluded element” of reality (Birchall 2006, 83). Accordingly, it is fair to question the likelihood that sex-trade laborers played any significant role in urban conspiracies during the late Roman Republic or that hetairai exerted a destabilizing influence on the Athenian democracy. As we craft our conclusions, we must recognize their limited value as viable interpretations. As Birchall notes, where conspiracy theory is concerned, “interpretation is never complete because of a profound absence in the text being interpreted and because that same absence conditions any subsequent interpretative text” (2006, 83).
NOTES
I wish to express my gratitude to Allison Glazebrook and Madeleine Henry for encouraging me to address this topic and for steering it through to completion.
1. Many sagae (witches) were reputedly former prostitutes (see nn. 25–30 below).
2. For conspiracism, also known as the paranoid style or the hidden-hand mentality, see Pipes 1997, 22; Robins and Post 1997; and Birchall 2006.
3. For the alliance and participants’ movements, see Cic. Verr. 2.1.87; Ps. Ascon. 244 St.; Plut. Sert. 23.3; App. Mith. 68; and Cic. De imp. Cn. Pomp. 46. For the date of the alliance between summer 76 and spring 75 BCE, see Magie 1950, 1203 n. 1; and Konrad 1994,149, 177, 197.
4. See Konrad 1994, 149, 177; and Rauh 1997, 263–74.
5. For the grain crisis, see Cic. Planc. 54; Sall. Hist. 2.45 M.; Cic. Verr. 2.3.215; Plut. Cic. 6; and Virlouvet 1985, 110.
6. For sources and discussion, see Magie 1950, 1203 n. 1; Rotondi 1922, 365; and Broughton MRR 2.96. Sallust’s use of the technical expressions res novae and tumultus (Hist.2.45, 50 M.) suggests that elements opposed to the Sullan establishment posed a serious political threat in 75 BCE (contra Gruen 1974, 6–46). Sallust portrays the consul Cotta pleading with the public for understanding (Hist. 2.47.7 M.).
7. Cethegus eluded Sulla’s proscriptions to emerge as the leader of a Roman factio during the 70s BCE (Cic. Parad. Stoic. 5.40; Cic. Brut. 178; Cic. Cluent. 84–85; Plut. Luc. 5–6; Ps. Ascon. 259 St.; Gruen 1974, 39–40). Decried as a traitor in a speech by Sallust (Hist. 1.77.20 M.), Cethegus purportedly arranged the extraordinary “pirate command” of M. Antonius Creticus and played some behind-the-scenes role in a jury-tampering scandal.
8. Cicero (Parad. Stoic. 5.3.40) corroborates the general lines of Lucullus’s bribery without specifically mentioning Praecia. See also RE 1.22, 1192.
9. Cicero (Mil. 55) compares Clodius’s entourage with Milo’s; cf. Cic. Sest. 2, 39. Cicero’s description of Clodius’s entourage on the day that he was murdered almost forms a doublet to his description of Catiline’s following. For Clodius’s gladiators, see Cic. Sest. 77–78; Cic. Att. 1.16.4, 4.3; Cic. Mil. 53; Cic. Post red. in sen. 18, 81; Cic. Dom. 6, 48, 81; and Ascon. 31 C. For his thieves, beggars, and runaways, see Cic. Att. 4.3.3–5; cf. Hahn 1975; Kühnert 1991; Zeller 1962.
10. Clodius’s henchmen closed all the tabernae during Milo’s trial. Cicero describes one Clodian ally as a concitator tabernariorum (Dom. 13); cf. Kleberg 1957, 122. Since homeless elements occupied these establishments at the discretion of the tabernarii, they could be compelled in this manner to join Clodius’s public demonstrations.
11. Cic. Att. 10.10.5 (49 BCE); Cic. Att. 10.16.8 (49 BCE); Cic. Phil. 2.56, 58, 77, 105,3.35, 5.12; 6.4, 8.26, 10.22, 13.3, 24; De vir. ill. 82.2. Volumnia Cytheris the mime was the freed person of Volumnius Eutrapelus, mistress of Antonius, and possibly of the poet Propertius (Eclog 10.22, 46). Her love affair with Antonius provoked widespread scandal. At one of Antonius’s banquets in 46 BCE Cicero was chagrined to find Cytheris reclining on a neighboring couch (Cic. Fam. 9.26.2). However, during the previous year Cicero’s wife, Terentia, had approached Cytheris about Cicero’s readmittance to Rome (Cic. Fam. 14.16.22). For Cytheris’s identification as a meretrix, see Serv. Eclog. 10.1. Apart from Cytheris, Antony’s following allegedly included Sergius the mime (Plut. Ant. 9), a “convicted gambler,” Licinius Dentiliculus (Cic. Phil. 2.56; Cass. Dio 45.47.4), a poisoner, Domitius of Apulia (Cic. Phil. 11.13), a “bathkeeper,” Insteius of Pisaurum (Cic. Phil. 13.26; Plut. Ant. 65.1), a former “gladiator,” Mustela (Cic. Phil. 2.8, 106, 5.18, 8.26, 12.14, 13.3; Cic. Att. 16.11.3) and a “wagonload of pimps” (Cass. Dio 45.28.1, 47.4; Cic. Phil. 2.56–58).
12. Other adversaries attacked similarly included Cn. Calpurnius Piso Caesoninus and
P. Gabinius, the consuls of 58 BCE. According to Cicero both of these men practiced debauchery in the brothels; for Caesoninus, see Cic. Pis. 13, 18, 22, 42, 53, 67; for Gabinius, see Cic. Post red. in sen. 13, 15, 16; cf. Cic. Pis. 20, 22; Cic. Sest. 18, 20, 22; and Macrob. 2.14.15.
13. Amy Richlin argues that the evidence arises exclusively from “fossilized political invective, kept alive by political motives that have long outlived the protagonists of the stories” (1983, 86; cf. 109). Jeffrey Tatum dismisses the “thuggish” tradition for Clodius’s following as Ciceronian invective and nowhere discusses Clodius’s alleged association with pimps and prostitutes (1999, 142–48); see further Nippel 1995, 124.
14. Sall. Cat. 48 (Crassus), 49 (false witness against Caesar); Plut. Crass. 13; Plut. Cic.10, 20; Plut. Caes. 7–8. For M. Caelius Rufus, see Cic. Cael. 10. Tatum (1999, 209) accepts Rufus’s involvement in the conspiracy but not Clodius’s. For C. Scribonius Curio and M. Antonius, see Cic. Phil. 2.44–46; Val. Max. 9.1.6; Plut. Caes. 8.2; and Plut. Ant. 2.4; these two offer perhaps the most pertinent examples, since they seem guilty by virtue of their behavior (accusations of debauchery, prostitutes, huge debts) and their associations (Antonius’s stepfather P. Cornelius Lentulus Sura was one of the executed conspirators). However, none of the sources specify that they were involved in the conspiracy; see Huzar 1978, 22; and Havas 1990.
15. A “bottom-up” example of popular distrust of political authority is the current belief throughout the Middle East that the attack of 9/11 was engineered by the CIA and the Israeli secret service to legitimize the American invasion of Iraq. A “top-down” example is the belief of the George W. Bush administration that Al Qaeda posed a sufficient domestic threat to warrant eavesdropping on communications of ordinary U.S. citizens.
16. Robins and Post argue further that being a leader in any organization is always somewhat paranoiagenic (1997, 22). Fear of enemies can become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
17. Evidence that appears to contradict a conspiracy theory is typically dismissed as further proof of the same.
18. For pornographic literature in the age of Cicero, see Rauh, Dillon, and McClain 2008, 209–16.
19. For the dangerous reputations of these women, see Xen. Mem. 3.11.4; [Dem.] 59.35, 42, 46, 120–25; Plaut. Asin. 177; Plaut. Poen. 212–13; Plaut. Truc. 168; Plaut. Bacch. 368–74; Plaut. Pseud. 172–229; Ter. Heaut. 443; Ov. Am. 2.7; Ov. Ars. am. 3.661–65; Luc. Dial. meret. 10; Alciphr. 4.3, 6, 8, 9; 3, 11.4; Aristaen. 1.4; Phaedr. Fab. 4.5.4; and Ath. 13.558c; cf. Herter 1960, 83; J. Davidson 1998, 201–5; Fantham 1975, 72.
20. As Eva Keuls observes, “the striking feature of Athenian mores is not the glorification of pederasty but the extraordinary propensity for prostitution, both heterosexual and homosexual” (1993, 299).
21. Aspasia’s controversial biographical tradition requires us to use other examples.
22. Thargelia of Miletus (early fifth century BCE) married fourteen times. When her last husband, Antiochus, the king of Thessaly, died, she assumed his throne and ruled for thirty years (Ath. 13.583c; RE 2.5, 1304; M. Henry 1995, 10). Aspasia allegedly modeled her career on Thargelia (M. Henry 1995, 42). Courtesans were commonplace among Hellenistic kings. Ptolemy Philopator married the hetaira Agathocleia, who eventually overturned his rule and was killed by the Alexandrian mob (Ath. 13.577a; Trogus Prol. 30; Strabo 17.1.11 [795]; Polyb. 15.33–34; Plut. Cleom. 33; cf. 753d). Hieronymus, the tyrant of Syracuse, married the brothel laborer Peitho and made her his queen. Timotheus, the Athenian general, allegedly was the son of a Thracian prostitute, Philetairus the son of a Paphlagonain flute girl named Boa. Aristophon, the orator, had children by a prostitute named Choregis. Demetrius Poliorcetes was passionately in love with the flute girl Lamia by whom he had a daughter (Ath. 13.577). Other couples include Philip II and Philinna (the mother of Philip Arrhidaeus), Demetrius and Mania, Antigonus and Demos, Seleucus the Younger, and both Mysta and Nysa. See Macurdy 1932; and Pomeroy 1984.
23. For the stereotype of the drunken elderly prostitute, see Herter 1960, 102 n. 604.
24. Isae. 6.21; Liv. 39.11.2; Quint. Decl. 14.15; Mart. 9.29.9; Plut. Mor. 752C; Luc. Am. 43; Luc. Dial. meret. 1.2, 4.8, 3; Alciphr. 4, 10.4; Herter 1960, 105 n. 671; Bloch 1912, 385.
25. According to Plin. NH 28.70, the sagae used hegammen, semen, and menstrual blood to induce labor and abortions; the hetaira Lais in old age was a midwife and an authority on cosmetics, abortions, and aphrodisiac potions. She invented secret medicines and potions to alter the size of a woman’s waist (Ath. 13.587e–f; cf. Plut. Mor. 759e–f; 1039a; Anth. Pal. 6.1, 6.18–20; Alciphr. fr. 5; Plut. Truc. 762). In old age Phryne boasted of a cream that concealed wrinkles, and she employed so many cosmetics that Aristophanes called her cheeks a “drugstore” (Ath. 13.570b–c). For old prostitutes as procuresses, see Plaut. Cist. 20–50; and Herter 1960, 90–91 nn. 382–88. For sagae and Thessalian witches, see Tib. 1.2.44; for charges of witchcraft, see Nonius Marcellus s.v. sagae; Propert. 3.7.24, 4.5.5–20; Hor. Sat. 1.8.19–50; Hor. Epod. 17.47; Stat. Theb. 4.445; and Bloch 1912, 171, 344.
26. Nonius Marcellus s.v. sagae; cf. Plin. NH 28.70; Tib. 1.2.44; Stat. Theb. 4.445; cf. Artemid. Onir. 1.78; Plaut. Truc. 762; Plaut. Am. 1043; Plaut. Cist. 20; Apul. Met. 1.8; Aug. Civ. Dei. 18.18; Juv. 6.610; Procop. Anek. 1.11–14; Liv. 39.11.2; Quint. Decl. 14, 15; Mart. 9.29.9; Plut. Mor. 752c, 759e–f, 1039a; Anth. Pal. 6.1, 6.18–20; Moine 1975; Kleberg 1957, 85; Herter 1960, 90 nn. 382–88, 671; Bloch 1912, 344–35; Richlin 1983, 109–10. Given the organic compounds and minerals these women employed, poisonings were a likely consequence.
27. Ovid’s Corinna had her Dipsas (Am. 1.8), Horace’s Canidia her Acanthis and her perfume-dealing Folia (Epod. 5.42). Fabulla’s cronies included degraded and much abused fellatrices (Mar. 8.79).
28. On Lucullus, see Plin. NH 25.25; Plut. Luc. 43; and De vir. ill. 74.8. On Lucretius, see Euseb. Chron. 149 Helm; cf. Herter 1960, 105. The evidence does not reveal a direct connection with prostitutes; however, one must ask how men of such high social standing (and/or their servants and lovers) acquired “love potions.”
29. For Martial’s invective against sexually active older women, see Sullivan 1979, 293; and Richlin 1983, 109. In 9.29 Martial refers to her as a Thessalian witch and as bald, redhead, and blind in one eye (2.33, cf. 4.65). One suspects that Philaenis was a libertine, not a prostitute, although her marriage to a freedman (9.40), someone named Diodorus, suggests that she had registered as a meretrix. Cf. Tracy 1977; Bloch 1912, 384.
30. Aspasia was allegedly indicted on asebeia and defended by Pericles (Ath. 13. 589e; cf. M. Henry 1995, 15, 135 n. 22). Lysias wrote a speech against Lais (Ath. 13.486e, 492e); Aristogeiton prosecuted Phryne on a capital charge, but she was defended by her lover Hypereides and acquitted (Ath. 13.590d–e). Neaira was indicted for asebia ([Dem.] 59.43,q.v. infra). The fifth-century BCE hetaira Sinope was so contemptuous of established mores that Demosthenes and others coined a verb, sinopiz¯o, after her behavior (Ath. 13.585e; cf. Ath. 13.339a; Hsch. in Suidas s.v.; Dem. 22.56). Archias, the Athenian high priest of the mysteries at Eleusis and a member of the elite Eumolpidai clan, was punished for, among other things, offering a sacrificial victim brought by Sinope (Dem. 50.116; Ath. 13.594a–b). She too was prosecuted, therefore, if only by proxy.
31. The condemnation of this woman resulted from charges of poisoning, sorcery, and corrupting slaves (Dem. 25.79). Demosthenes later accused one of the defendants of fathering children by Theoris as well as of acquiring her skills as a magician, spell charmer, and poisoner. According to Plutarch (Dem. 14), Demosthenes also accused Theoris of teaching slaves to cheat their masters; Demosthenes was allowed to propose her sentence and caused her to be put to death. Harpocration s.v. (Dindorf 155) cites the Demosthenic speech; cf. RE 2.5, 2237–38.
32. [Dem.] 19.281 with schol. (Dem. 19, sect. 495a); Dion. Hal. Din. 11. p. 313, 13R; cf.Keuls 1993, 322.
33. Harpocration s.v. Antikura alleges that Nais was called Anticyra either because she joined drinking bouts of men who were insane with passion or because the physician Nicostratus at his death left to her a large quantity of hellebore; cf. Ath. 13.592c; Joseph. AJ 1.60.2. Her name occurs in a list of courtesans furnished by the comic writer Philetairos (fr.9 FAC ) as well as in at least three speeches of Lysias (Ath. 13.586f.; RE 1.16, 1586–87). In another episode of poisoning furnished by Antiphon (1.10, 14–16, 26), an Athenian woman angry at her husband conspired with a concubine ( pallak¯e ) to poison both her husband and the concubine’s lover. The lover, bored with his mistress, intended to place her in a brothel. Hearing of this the wife gave the concubine what she claimed to be a love potion capable of restoring the respective affections of both men but what was in fact poison. Administered by the concubine as a libation, the poison killed both men. For the pharmaceutical skills of the elderly Lais and Phryne, see Ath. 13.587e–f, 570b–c; Bloch 1912, 348; and Keuls 1993, 322.
34. Gilfoyle’s 1994 study furnishes a useful model for the involvement of upper-class elements in underclass leisure culture. He posits that men and women who experience the economic transitions of societies shifting from agropastoral systems to wage-labor-based, urban commercialism inevitably adapt their lives to meet these new challenges and needs. According to Gilfoyle, gender and age-based social dislocations in rapidly emerging wage-labor societies gave rise to a tavern-driven subculture that he describes as nascent “sexual democracy,” a phenomenon that could integrate tavern elements from all levels of the social hierarchy (1994, 250).
35. In her rivalry with Phryne, Lais took on a large crowd of lovers, allegedly making no distinction between rich and poor (Ath. 13.589; RE 1.12, 513–16). Pythionike “was shared by all who desired her at the same price for all” (Theopompos in Ath. 13.595c). Leme, the mistress of the demagogue Stratocles, was, according to Gorgias, “called didrachmon because she visited any who desired her for two drachmas” (Ath. 13.596f.). Pasiphile allegedly ingratiated herself with foreigners (Athen 13.608f; cf. 13.581e, 583c).
36. In other words, glamorous courtesans more typically charged exorbitant prices that placed their services beyond the reach of underclass Athenians. Cf. James Davidson, who draws a distinction between the mistharnousai (wage earners) of the brothels (1998, 92) and the megalomisthoi (big-fee prostitutes) (1998, 104), who often possessed their own houses. He agrees that women such as Obole and Didrachmon seemed to advertise their prices through their names (118–19).
37. For Phryne’s relations with Aristippus and Diogenes, see Ath. 13.558e; for Moerichus, see Ath. 13.583c. Lais became the mistress of Apelles the painter, Demosthenes, Xenocrates, Myron, a Cyrenian noble named Eubates, and a Thessalian named Pausanias (Ath. 13.588–19). For the evidence of three women named Lais, the earliest of whom originated from Hiccara in Sicily and was known to Alcibiades, see RE 1.12, 513–16. Phryne, meanwhile, enjoyed the companionship of the Athenian orator Hypereides, an Areopagite named Gryllion, and the sculptors Apelles and Praxiteles (Ath. 13.558e; Keuls 1993, 197). Pythionike became the mistress of Alexander’s friend Harpalus, who spent a fortune on her tomb when she died unexpectedly in Cilicia (Ath. 13.595c; RE 1.24, 564–66).
38. She either wrote the rule herself or had it put into verse by her lover Diphilus.
39. While living with the poet Andronicus, Gnathenion, the granddaughter of Gnathaina, had sex with a humble coppersmith, referred to by Andronicus as a mastigias (Ath.13.581e). Gnathaina on one occasion made love to a soldier and a mastigias simultaneously (Ath. 13.585a). For repeated reference to relations between courtesans and whip-scarred criminals (mastigias), see Ath. 13.580a–b, 581c, 585a, 585c, 585f.
40. They also had to endure the rowdiness and fighting that were commonplace at these establishments (Herter 1960, 103–4).
41. While Aspasia is the most notable example, some would argue that her experience was exceptional or that the tradition about her was otherwise exaggerated or distorted. As an elite female like Thargelia, Aspasia possibly came to Athens determined to assume a place in the social hierarchy (M. Henry 1995, 10).
42. Hamel (2002) follows the argument of Kapparis, both of whom dismiss most of the accusations made against Neaira in this speech. Glazebrook (2005a; 2006) offers detailed analysis of the rhetoric behind this speech and even questions Neaira’s status as a hetaira. The outcome of the trial is unknown.
43. By posing as a freeborn Corinthian “married with children,” Nikarete was able to charge higher fees not only for her own services but for those of the girls. According to the speech, Neaira’s older “sister” Metaneira enjoyed relations with Lysias, the celebrated Athenian orator, and was actually invited by him to be initiated into the Eleusinian mysteries in Attica. Nikarete and Neaira reportedly accompanied Mateneira to the initiation ceremony and lodged at the house of Lysias’s unmarried friend Philostratus while in Attica ([Dem.] 59.22, 108). Neaira traveled with her lovers elsewhere in the Peloponnesus and to Thessaly, Magnesia, Chios, and Ionia as well.
44. Hamel 2002, 38–39. Phrynion was from the deme of Paeania, the son of Demon and the brother of Demochares. The speaker indicates that Demochares was politically prominent at this time. Once settled in the city, Phrynion and Neaira attended numerous drinking parties, including one hosted by the former Athenian general Chabrias at the Temple of Athena Kolias in Phalerum in 374 BCE. Chabrias hosted the party to celebrate the victory of his four-horse chariot team at Pythian games ([Dem.] 59.33–34; Hamel 2002, 39). He was a leading figure in Athens, elected general at least twelve times. In 376 BCE he won the Battle of Naxos against the Spartans, for which he was awarded a statue in the agora and a grant of ateleia by the assembly.
45. According to Hamel, Phano “was not the wanton [Apollodoros] would have us believe” (2002, 79), and the two sons were likely legitimate sons of Stephanus (2002, 48). Kapparis concurs (1999, 269, 270).
46. This is the heart of Apollodoros’s prosecution; he accused Neaira of breaking the law by living with an Athenian citizen and posing as his wife. Hamel (2002, 77) rightly observes that nothing more is heard about Phrynion, who had possibly died by the time of the trial or had otherwise come to some resolution with Stephanus.
47. The wife of the archon basileus, called the basilinna or queen, played a prominent role in at least one of the state’s religious festivals during the three-day festival of the Anthesteria (Hamel 2002, 103). The basilinna made secret offerings on the city’s behalf and administered an oath to the priestesses who assisted her in the sacred rites. She was also ritually “married” to the god Dionysus; cf. Kapparis 1999; Glazebrook 2005a.
48. For their feud and the indictment of Apollodoros by Stephanus, see Hansen 1976 and Hamel 2002, 117. According to Apollodoros, Stephanus enjoyed a largely unsuccessful career as a sycophant, possessed few prominent political connections, had limited financial means, and worked as an underling of the orator and politician Callistratus of Aphidna ([Dem.] 59.43; cf. Hamel 2002, 65). External evidence indicates, however, that Stephanus was a prominent politician and orator at this time. Scholars generally identify him with Stephanus, son of Antidorides from the deme of Eroadai, an orator who in 347 BCE proposed a motion in the Athenian assembly to renew the alliance withMitylene. In the same year he appears to have served as a delegate to the Amphyctionic Council that determined the Peace of Philocrates (IG 2/32 213, 1. 5 = SIG3 205, 5 with [Dem.] 59.121, where his father’s name is given; cf. Aeschin. 2.140; Ath. 13.593f.). Despite his long-term relationship with Neaira he played a significant role in Athenian politics until Apollodoros pursued his indictment in the 340s. Hamel (2002, 127) argues that the trial was somehow connected with the Peace of Philocrates as well as with the Athenian embassy sent to Philip in 346 BCE. Stephanus’s presumed political allies, Callistratus and Cephisophon, played prominent roles in that affair.Hamel argues that the political machinations of these three probably generated the trumped-up murder charges that Apollodoros endured at about that time.
49. See Glazebrook 2005a; 2006.
50. A remarkably similar fourth-century BCE episode of prostitute as a schemer is furnished by Isaeus 6, Concerning the Estate of Philoctemon. In this speech Euctemon, an extremely wealthy and prominent Athenian, fell under the influence of a former slave prostitute named Alce, who was raised in his brothel establishment (sunoikia) in the Piraeus (19) and became the lover of Euctemon (21). Much like Neaira and Stephanus, Alce repeatedly urged Euctemon to have her illegitimate sons recognized as his descendents. These attempts were opposed by legitimate family members, resulting in the legal action recorded in the speech (27). In his argument Isaeus raises the same religious and civic scruples in the jury that Apollodoros had in his argument against Phano and Neaira (49).
51. For these figures, see Brunt 1971, 376–88; and Sallares 1991, 102.
By Nicholas K. Rauh in "Greek Prostitutes in the Ancient Mediterranean - 800 BCE-200 CE" edited by Allison Glazebrook and Madeleine M. Henry, The University of Wisconsin Press, Madison, USA, 2011, excerpts pp. 197-221. Adapted and illustrated to be posted by Leopoldo Costa.
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