Venus – Goddess of Love and Life

"Cupid Undoing Venus' Belt by Reynolds (c. 1788)

Few among the red-blooded (Pagan) women of today can resist the allure of Venus. She is among the most celebrated of all the Goddesses, evidenced by the incredible number of artworks that have been made in her honour. Her blessing is that worth courting, for she is the divine embodiment of sexual love and fertility. One of the things that makes her so appealing is that she seems to celebrate female sexuality, but this great Goddess is not just about sex, she is also about love, and about divine, life-affirming protection. Here follows a look at some ancient sources dealing with Venus, so to help us understand her multi-faceted nature a little better.

As a Goddess associated so closely with sex it is no surprise that ancient Romans associated her with sex work. In Plautus’ Poenulus one character says: 

“It's the Aphrodisia [a Greek festival in honour of Venus’ Hellenic counterpart Aphrodite – the play is set in Greece] … today, at the temple of Venus, there's a fair for the courtesans; there the dealers meet”. 

Similarly, Ovid describes a festival in honour of Venus (and Jupiter) celebrated by Roman prostitutes (as well as all Roman women). It was the Vinalia – a wine making festival – which took place on 23 April:

“Street girls, celebrate the divinity of Venus; Venus boosts the profits of working girls. Request beauty and public favour with your incense, request seductive charm and playful words. Give your mistress pleasing mint and her own myrtle and wicker baskets covered in roses. Now you should pack the temple near the Porta Collina … [Ovid, Fasti, Book IV, 865-872]”

And then there is Horace’s Ode to Venus:

"O Venus, the queen of Cnidus* and Paphos [mythical birthplace of Aphrodite],  

spurn your beloved Cyprus, and summoned  

by copious incense, come to the lovely shrine 

of my Glycera [a Greek word denoting a sophisticated and educated courtesan]. 

And let that passionate boy of yours, Cupid,  

and the Graces with loosened zones, and the Nymphs, 

and Youth, less lovely without you, hasten here, 

and Mercury too."

All of this almost suggests that sex workers were well regarded in the ancient world – but this belief would be mistaken. Prostitutes and courtesans (whether freeborn or not) were so lowly regarded that they were precluded from enjoying the legal rights of freeborn Romans – they, along with actors and gladiators, were “infames”. Ovid highlights the ignominy of sex work in his Metamorphoses, where prostitution is a means of divine punishment:

“the indecent Propoetides [daughters of Propoetus; women from Amanthus - an ancient city in Cyprus associated with the worship of Aphrodite] dared to deny her [Venus’] divinity; in anger, Venus made them the first, it is said, to sell their own bodies, and as their shame ceased, and they lost the power of blushing, they turned into stones – a very small difference, really [Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book X, 307-311].”

"Pygmalion and Galatea" (c.1890) by Gerome

These words seem like an implacable curse and make Venus seem scary and harsh, but it is not so, for in the lines immediately after them we learn of Pygmalion, who has fallen in love with a statue (in this case of ivory) and then: “The holiday honouring Venus has come, and all Cyprus turns out to celebrate; heifers with gilded horns buckle under the deathblow and incense soars up in thick clouds; having already brought his own gift to the altar, Pygmalion stood by and offered this fainthearted prayer: ‘If you in heaven are able to give us whatever we ask for, then I would like as my wife’ and not daring to say ‘my ivory maiden’ said ‘one like my statue!’ Since golden Venus was present there at her altar, she knew what he wanted to ask for, and as a good omen three times the flames soared and leapt right up to the heavens. 

Once home he went straight to the replica of his sweetheart, threw himself down on the couch and repeatedly kissed her; she seemed to grow warm and so he repeated the action, kissing her lips and exciting her breasts with both hands. Aroused, the ivory softened and, losing its stiffness, yielded, submitting to his caress ... Amazed, he rejoices, then doubts, then fears he’s mistaken, while again and again he touches on what he had prayed for. She is alive! And her veins leap under his fingers!

You can believe that Pygmalion offered the Goddess his thanks in a torrent of speech, once again kissing those lips that were not untrue; that she felt his kisses, and timidly blushing, she opened her eyes to the sunlight, and at the same time, first looked on her lover and heaven! The Goddess attended the wedding since she had arranged it, and before the ninth moon had come to its crescent, a daughter was born to them [Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book X, 342-371] ...”F

Thus in the story of Pygmalion and his statue come to life we have a story of potential redemption – a hard woman comes to true life through the power of Venus; through the power of love. This is a subtle story of hope, for both the women who have become emotionally hardened through prostitution and for the men who want to love them. So while Venus is a Goddess associated with the sale of sex she is, far more importantly, the Goddess of life affirming love, and that is the real moral of the story of the Propoetides – for, ultimately, it was their failure to love which caused them to be turned to stone. Thus to honour (or to be blessed by) Venus is not to sell your body for sex, but to feel the passion of love.

Perhaps one of the most illuminating of ancient sources dealing with Venus is the play Rudens by Plautus, in which he refers to Venus as one who “handles love”. We then come into the storyline, wherein an elderly priestess from the temple of Venus says as she hears praying outside the temple doors:

Temple of Venus, Villa Adriana
(2nd century CE)

“Who can be praying for my Lady’s help? The voice of suppliants brings me to the door. A good, obliging Goddess they address, a Lady ever generous and kind … [she answers the door to two bedraggled young women] … you should have come arrayed in white, with ritual animals [as an offering to Venus. After a plea that she take in the two homeless women she agrees and says] … Give me your hands and stand up, both of you. No woman’s more compassionate than I. But girls, my situation here is poor: I find it hard to meet my personal needs, and I service Venus at my own expense … I’m spoken of as priestess of the Shrine [in the temple of Venus]. All my resources will be cordially shared with you, so far as means permit.”

The priestess then attempts to protect the women, who are escaped slaves, from the unscrupulous pimp and slave dealer who owns them – Labrax, referred to by the Victorian translator of the play as the “procurer”. In this she fails, for as the slaves grasp onto the temple statue of Venus their old master: 

“in his villainy, pushed down the old lady, the priestess, headlong, and struck her in a very disgraceful manner, and with his violence tore us [the slaves] from the inner side of the statue.” 

Upon hearing of this the slave of Plesidippus (Plesidippus is in love with one of the women) offers to protect them from their pimp and master saying “with the aid of Venus, I’ll march against the wickedness of the procurer”. At this point the young women kneel at Venus’ altar and pray:

“genial Venus, we both of us, in tears, implore thee, embracing this thy altar, bending upon our knees, that thou wilt receive us into thy guardianship, and be our protector; that thou wilt punish those wretches who have set at nought thy temple, and that thou wilt suffer us to occupy this thy altar with thy permission … hold us not in scorn …”.

Thereafter the slave of Plesidippus and some other men effectively defend the women against their pimp-master, but not before he threatens to: 

“bring Vulcan [God of destructive fires] … an enemy of Venus … I’ll burn both of these alive here upon the altar … my own women … I shall drag away this instant from the altar by the hair, in spite of … Venus, and supreme Jove”. 

This he fails to do and both women are eventually freed, with one of them, Palaestra – the heroine of the play – happily reunited with her family from whom she was stolen as a child. Thereafter there is talk of a happy marriage match between herself and Plesidippus – thus true love, and therefore Venus, triumphs.

 

The storyline of this play is fascinating for what it reveals about ancient Roman attitudes – firstly, great humanity is displayed regarding the lot of slaves (particularly young, pretty ones). Of more interest to us though is what it tells us about attitudes to Venus. Clearly Plautus reveres Venus and expects his audience to do the same – we loathe the procurer/pimp-master Labrax partly or wholly because he fails to respect the sanctity of Venus’ temple and her priestess. Furthermore we see that Plautus portrays Venus as one who does not merely assist prostitutes in the exercise of their trade, namely sex, she may also attend to their welfare and provide succour. Here we see Venus as a divine protector – a theme elsewhere repeated in ancient sources. For example, Virgil emphasises Venus’ role as divine protector in his epic poem the Aeneid:

Bronze figure of Venus 
(c. 1st century CE), 31cm

“Venus veiled them [Aeneas and his Trojan followers – mythological ancestors of the Romans] with a dark mist as they walked, and, as a Goddess, spread a thick covering of cloud around them, so that no one could see them, or touch them, or cause them delay, or ask them where they were going. She herself soars high in the air, to Paphos [in Cyprus, Venus’ mythical birthplace], and returns to her home with delight, where her temple and its hundred altars steam with Sabean [Yemeni, thus myrrh and frankincense] incense, fragrant with fresh garlands [Virgil, Aeneid, Book I, 372-417].”

Virgil also casts her as a divine healer, as befits a life-giving, fertility Goddess:

“Aeneas’s mother, Venus, shaken by her son’s cruel pain, culled a dittany plant from Cretan Ida, with downy leaves and purple flowers: a herb not unknown to the wild goats when winged arrows have fixed themselves in their sides. This Venus brought, her face veiled in dark mist, this, with its hidden curative powers, she steeped in river water, poured into a glittering basin, and sprinkled there healing ambrosial juice and fragrant panacea. Aged Iapyx [doctor to the Trojan royal family] bathed the wound with this liquid, not knowing its effect, and indeed all pain fled from Aeneas’s body, all the flow of blood ceased deep in the wound. Now, without force, the arrowhead slipped from the wound, following the motion of his hand, and fresh strength returned to Aeneas, such as before. Iapyx cried: … ‘Aeneas, this cure does not come by human aid, nor guiding art, it is not my hand that saved you: a God, a greater one, worked this, and sends you out again to glorious deeds’ [Virgil, Aeneid, Book XII, 383-467].”

She could also be the bringer of (military) success – Sulla attributed his good fortune in battle to Venus; Pompey built a temple to Venus Victrix (Venus, bringer of victory) and Caesar dedicated his victory games to her. Similarly, before the battle of Pharsalus, Caesar vowed a temple to Venus Genetrix  (Venus the Ancestress) – in keeping with his affirmation that Venus was his, and Rome’s, divine ancestor guardian.**

The enormous power of Venus was not underestimated by Ovid:

Venus Callipyge (c. 1st century BCE)

“gentle Venus … truly deserves to regulate the universe; she has an empire matching any God’s. She gives laws to heaven, earth and her native sea; her coming frames every species. She created all Gods (too numerous to count), she bestowed the causes of trees and crops. She united the crude hearts of humankind, and instructed all to pair with a mate. What creates every caste of bird but pleasure’s prod? Cattle would not mate but for fickle love. The ferocious ram locks horns with fellow rams, but spares the brow of his cherished ewe. The bull who flurries every glade and grove, sheds his savagery to chase the heifer. The same power preserves the wide ocean’s creatures and crams the waters with countless fish. It first stripped from man his savage habits, and bred elegance and personal hygiene. A lover was the first, they say, to spurn the night and sing a vigil-song before barred doors. Rhetoric lay in persuading a stubborn girl, every man was orator for himself. The Goddess caused a thousand arts: sex-appeal, they say, often unearthed the world’s secrets … Though her power is worldwide and hymned in crowded shrines, the Goddess reigns supreme in our city [Ovid, Fasti, Book IV, 90-118].” 

Here Ovid alludes to her great popularity in Rome. We know she was highly regarded in ancient Rome not least because the day of Friday was named in her honour (the “dies Veneris” meaning “day of Venus”). She was also associated with the month of April, “the fourth month, which honours you most; poet and month, Venus, you know are yours [Ovid Fasti, Book IV, 14-15]”.

Moreover, on the first day of April it was the Veneralia – the festival of Venus.  On this day:

“Yours are the Goddess’ rites, Latin mothers and brides, you, too, without the headband and long gown [ie, prostitutes]. Remove the jewels: bathe the Goddess whole. Dry her neck and return the golden necklace to it; then dress her with flowers and new roses. She tells you, too, to bathe beneath the green myrtle … Appease her with suppliant words. Her power secures beauty and character and noble fame. Rome fell from chastity in our ancestors’ time [ie, some Vestal Virgins broke their vows of chastity]. You ancients consulted Cumae’s crone [the Sibylline books]. She orders a shrine to Venus. It was duly built, and Venus henceforth named ‘Heart-Changer’. Fairest, always view the Aeneadae [descendants of Aeneas] with kindness, and protect, Goddess, your many daughters [Ovid, Fasti, Book IV, 133-162].”

In another allusion to ancient rites associated with Venus we have a fictional exchange in Plautus’ Rudens which suggests the form of real oaths, invoking Venus, that Romans might have made. The exchange is as follows:

“GRIPUS: 
Touch this altar of Venus. 

LABRAX 
(touching it): I am touching it. 

GRIPUS
: By Venus here must you swear to me …Take hold of this altar. 

LABRAX
 (taking hold of it): I am taking hold of it. 

GRIPUS: Swear that you will pay me the money on that same day on which you shall gain possession of the wallet. 

LABRAX: 
Be it so. 

GRIPUS
 (speaking, while LABRAX repeats after him): Venus of Cyrene, I invoke thee as my witness, if I shall find that wallet which I lost in the ship, safe with the gold and silver, and it shall come into my possession ... 

GRIPUS: 
"Then to this Gripus do I promise;" say so and place your hand upon me. 

LABRAX: 
Then to this Gripus do I promise, Venus, do thou hear me ... 

GRIPUS 
(followed by LABRAX): "That I will forthwith give him a great talent of silver." 

GRIPUS: 
If you defraud me, say, may Venus utterly destroy your body, and your existence in your calling. Aside. As it is, do you have this for yourself, when you've once taken the oath. 

LABRAX: 
If, Venus, I shall do anything amiss against this oath, I supplicate thee that all Procurers may henceforth be wretched.”

On a more personal note, we have a prayer to Venus, written up as graffiti in Pompeii:

“Methe, slave of Cominia, from Atella [in southern Italy], loves Chrestus. May Venus of Pompeii be kind to them and may they live together happily ever after."***

Thus, we deduce that Venus was, as now, a Goddess of great importance and popularity. If we are to sum her up then it can be said that Venus is the Goddess of:

N Noel in Elle magazine

• Sexual love.
• Lovers and happy sexual relationships.
• Sexual passion.
• Sexual beauty and charm.
• Sex and sexual pleasure.
• Sex work.
• Fertility and regeneration.
• Plant growth.
• Divine protection from harm – for she is a benevolent life-giver.
• Victory and good fortune.

Moreover, the sources above do not just shed light on the nature of Venus, they also indicate the nature of rituals, and offerings, that were performed in her honour. It seems that wearing white while making one's offering is traditional (and good personal hygiene is advisable), as is hanging garlands around her shrine. We also see that the following things are suitable offerings in any ritual wherein Venus is invoked: incense, wine, mint, myrtle and/or roses. 

May you and your lover be blessed by Venus.

* Aphrodite (and therefore Venus) was associated with Cnidus (also called Knidos) – which was an ancient city in what is now called Turkey – because a famous statue of her was called Aphrodite of Cnidus.
** Plutarch, Roman Lives: Sulla at [19] and [34]; Beard et al, Religions of Rome: Volume 1: A History at 122, 144-145; Lipka, Roman Gods: A Conceptual Approach at 46 and 174.
*** Beard, Pompeii: The Life of a Roman Town at 279

 

Aedes Venus Genetrix: Roman Tale of a Fairy -Edward Halley's (1697-1731)...

Letter from Pliny the Younger to Licinius Sura
Translated by Edward Halley
I have recently heard a curious tale that I would like to lay before you. It is the sort of thing that would very much appeal to you, and I should be quite grateful to learn your opinion on the matter. I record the story in as great of detail as I can recall it in case even the smallest item will be crucial for you to draw your conclusions.
At the end of the reign of Vespasian, there lived a young boy[1] in Herculaneum. His father was of the order of knights[2] and the family had long been wealthy. Their house had been relatively undamaged by the earthquake of 62,[3] and so while other houses were redecorated or rebuilt, this one retained in most rooms frescoes of a style which had not been fashionable for several decades-that which Vitruvius praised for its accurate representation of real things, from men and animals to architecture and landscapes. The boy evidently possessed great imagination and when not in his lessons preferred, rather than playing with other young lads, the solitary pursuit of wandering from room to room about the house, wondering what it might be like to climb through the painted windows and explore the fields or cities that lay beyond them.
One day, as the child made his progression through the house from one fantasy to another, his attention was arrested by a figure sittng upon a window sill where a person had never been painted before. The boy cried out in surprise and made toward the wall, but the figure, which had appeared merely a painted man until now, motioned the boy to be quiet and indicated that another person in the room with the boy was the reason for this silence, although all this was done in such a playful manner as to invite the boy to participate in some secret. This the boy did, for when the other person, a servant, asked the boy what the matter was, he replied that there was nothing wrong at all. Though the servant seemed to stand such that he must see both the boy and the fresco with the strange man, he did not appear to notice anything amiss, and departed soon after.[4]
While the boy waited for the servant to leave, he took the opportunity to observe the figure more carefully. He was wearing a tunic made of the Deeds of Ancestors, fastened with a belt of Piety,[5] sandals made of from good Fortune and Wise Decisions and a toga woven of Citizenship. When the servant had departed, this apparition spoke to the boy, saying that they were now free to converse with one another. The boy asked him if he was the household Lar.[6] The figure seemed to consider this for a moment but presently said that he was indeed. The boy then asked if the Lar often walked about in the paintings, and if so, what were they like? The Lar responded that they were magnificent places and he would be immensely happy to show them to the boy if the latter should so desire. Accordingly, he offered his hand, which the boy took and found himself presently standing beside the Lar. Behind him, the room of his house appeared as a painting on a wall, while before him the world of the painting stretched into the distance.
This particular fresco was of an enormous city, much grander than Herculaneum. It did not represent any particular real place, although in magnificence it must have rivaled Carthage of old, or hill-top Troy, or even Rome itself. Together, the boy and the Lar wandered about its streets and many people called out to the Lar either to exchange greetings with him or invite him to dine with them at some time or else to inquire his advice upon some matter. The boy was very much delighted with this, for it was what he understood his father to do when he went to the forum, though young as he was the boy was never permitted to go with him. Here, however, no one seemed to take it amiss that a mere lad accompanied a great man of business. Presently, the boy asked if the Lar lived here. No, the Lar replied, he did not precisely live here, but he did visit the place often. After this, the Lar began to point out some of the men whom they passed, and many of these were shown to be the Lares of other families of Herculaneum, friends of the boy's father. This, the Lar told him, was the City of the Gods[7] where many important people were often to be found and where spectacular celebrations or festivals of some sort were held almost every day of the year.[8] Indeed, upon this day there was to be a splendid procession, rather like a general's Triumph, to welcome the newly deified Vespasian to the city.[9]
The Lar led the boy to a portico from which they would have a good view of the street. Around them, the other Lares in the street moved to either side of the roadway, climbing atop steps if they could. Before long a spectacular procession came into view. Near its head, the newly deified Vespasian rode in a chariot wearing the triumphal purple toga with gold trim. Ordinarily, the boy understood, a slave stood in the chariot whispering 'Remember, though art mortal' to a triumphant general, but here Vespasian rode alone. Behind Vespasian's chariot Lares carried placards of Vespasian's accomplishments in life; not only his military victories, but also his civic achievements-the construction of the Temple of Peace and the names of all the numerous roads he built throughout the empire-and his virtues: modesty, diligence, industry, openhandedness. The procession wound its way up a hill to a temple which, the Lar said, honored Jupiter. Arrayed along the porches of the temple were about two dozen men, most of whom wore white togas with a purple hem over purple tunics-richer garb than any living man was permitted to wear-but several were dressed differently; one wearing a lion's skin must have been the deified hero Hercules.
After the ceremony was finished, the Lar said that it was surely time for the boy to return home, and for his part, he too had other things he must do. When they had returned to the place from which the boy had entered the world, and found again the painting which showed the room in his house, the Lar enjoined the boy most strictly that he must not let go the former's hand until he was once again entirely in his own home or else he would be lost forever between this world and his own.[10] The boy promised to faithfully follow the Lar instructions and was thus returned to his home without incident. Once the boy was safely in the room again, the Lar bade him farewell for the present, but told him to keep an eye out in the future, for, having found the boy to be marvelous company, he would surely return again.
It was several weeks before the boy again saw the Lar. This time he was perched upon a rock in a fresco which showed the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, for there Thisbe fled away to a cave, while the lion tore apart her veil and Pyramus himself was just approaching the dismal scene. The Lar called out to the boy and invited the latter to join him in the painting, stretching out his hand for the boy to take it. The boy hesitated, looking at the lion, not a little frightened, but the Lar bade him be not afraid, for they were all characters in a story and would not harm him. With this, the boy took the Lar's hand and presently found himself also in the night time world. Behind him, the room the boy had just left appeared as a painted wall, but the Lar raised a fist to tap it and it disappeared.
The Lar led the boy away from the impending tragedy of the lovers, where the boy could now hear the lion growling as it rent the fabric and stained it with its bloody teeth and claws. Together, they passed by a shepherd sleeping quietly on a mountain-side, and the Lar said that this was Endymion whom the Moon had fallen in love with and caused to sleep forever where she might see him as she drove her chariot through the sky. The Lar and the boy strolled through a forest where they heard the song of a nightingale, and the Lar told the boy that this was Philomela who was most cruelly treated by her sister's husband and afterwards made into the nightingale. Continuing on, they came to a spring, and the Lar said that this was Arethusa, the young maiden who followed Diana and who, when pursued by the river god Alpheus, cried out to Diana to save her and was thus transformed into a spring.
As boy and Lar walked, they passed not only out of the wood but out of the night and came thus to a seashore in the daytime. Here they saw two birds building a nest upon the waves and the boy, who knew his Ovid, asked if these were Ceyx and Alcyone. The Lar smiled a the boy, pleased with his cleverness, and said that it was so. And so they wandered on, seeing Aeneas shipwrecked upon the shores of Carthage, Hercules leading the cattle of Geryon back to Eurystheus and many other heroes and heroic deeds.
At length, however, the Lar said that he had other things to which he must attend, and the boy himself had best return home, lest he be missed. They returned, therefore, to the moonlit scene of Pyramus and Thisbe, where Thisbe still fled, the lion still shredded her veil, and Pyramus still gradually approached the trysting-place. Here, the Lar raised his fist as if to knock upon the empty air, but struck instead the wall which showed the painted room of the boy's house, and the Lar again enjoined the boy that he not release the Lar's hand until he was wholly back in his own house, or else the boy would be lost forever between the two worlds. This the boy again promised to do, and he returned safely to his home. The Lar again bade him farewell for the time, but told the boy to keep an eye out, for he would surely return eventually.
Several weeks again passed before the boy next saw the Lar. The summer was well advanced and though the day was early yet, it would surely grow quite hot. This morning the boy was sitting upon the floor of the dining room which was painted to resemble an orchard full of fruit trees and little shrubs, with numerous birds hopping or flying about and a couple of fountains, which surely spouted cool water. The Lar found him here and offered his hand, inviting the boy to come into the orchard. This the boy readily accepted and presently he stood upon the cool grass and heard the splashing of the fountains. The Lar, as he had the previous time, rapped upon the wall which showed the painted room and it disappeared.
Together the two of them climbed trees and chased little lizard in the grass, for the Lar was disposed today to act like a child himself, and so they played throughout the day. By the evening, the boy had grown rather hungry but was reluctant to leave his friend if there was no business calling the Lar away. Perceiving this, the Lar offered the boy an orange from one of the trees. The boy was wary and asked if he would have to stay there forever if he ate it. The Lar laughed and answered that he need have no fear-this was not the underworld and eating would bring him no harm. Reassured, the boy took the fruit and found it to be of excellent flavour, and thereafter the two wandered further afield, gathering olives from trees, grapes from vines and milk fresh from a goat. There was no bread or cheese to be had, nor yet any relish,[11] but they made a pleasant repast nonetheless.
As evening drew on, the stars emerged. These were arranged in very different patterns than any the boy had ever seen, but the Lar pointed out the different constellations and named them and told their stories. Now the boy grew sleepy, but as the Lar did not press him to leave, he determined to remain still in the world of the painting. Since the birds continued to sing despite the darkness, the Lar offered to fetch the dragon of Lepidus,[12] but the boy had fallen asleep before he had finished speaking.
When the boy awoke in the morning, he and the Lar again ate the food of the orchard world. The boy, however, had now become anxious to return home and even asked the Lar that he might do so. The Lar endeavoured to dissuade him, but the boy persisted and so he at last acquiesced. They returned to the place where the boy had entered the world, and as before the Lar raised his hand as if to knock upon the empty air but struck instead the wall which appeared, bearing the painted room. For the third time,[13] he warned the boy not to let go his hand until he had crossed entirely into his own house, lest he be lost forever between the two worlds. This the boy promised to do and began to enter the wall. But when he had passed only partway through, enough to see the room itself, he let out a cry of horror at the sight. For the day was 25th of August of the year 79,[14] the second day of the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The boy, half-way between the orchard world and his home, dropped the hand of the Lar and vanished. Whatever became of him, it is certain that he neither lives in the world of the painting nor died in our own.[15]
This is the story as it was told to me. I am particularly anxious to know whether you find it at all plausible. Would it be possible, by some perhaps magical means, to enter a scene depicted in a painting? If one were to do so, would one then encounter a world of Lares? Supposing both of these, and further that some sort of interaction, at least, was once a common practice, would it be feasible to posit that the much declined state of our modern time is due in no small part to the degradation of our domestic art, which, consisting as it now does of architectural impossibilities on the rare occasions it even depicts entire scenes, could not be inhabited by any person and therefore no longer allows communication between a patriarch and his Lar? Farewell.
[1] Halley: 'The hero and all other characters are nameless; they are referred to solely by epithets, in this case ones describing what they are (though other stories describe qualities such as virtues or vices).'
[2] Latin equites, the lesser of the two orders of Roman nobility, the greater being the Senatorial order.
[3] Pliny, of course, would not have identified the year by Anno Domini, but the names of that year's consuls.
[4] Halley: 'Fairy can only be seen by a child; adult is explicitly unable to do so. Common motif in European lore.'
[5] The Latin pietas conveys not only religious reverence but also familial and patriotic duty.
[6] A lar was a minor god associated with a family. All families, rich and poor, had a lar to whom offerings were left at a small shrine that also honored the family's ancestors. The word lar is sometimes also understood to apply to the various localized gods of the Romans, such as the god of the River Tiber or the goddess of some tree. In modern practice, of course, Lar (usually capitalized) is the accepted translation from English to Latin of 'fairy'.
[7] From what follows, it is clear that this city is not some variation of Olympus, which might be inferred from Urbs Deorum, but rather an Urbs Divorum-a city of lesser gods and of deified men, notably the deceased emperors.
[8] Halley: 'Ancient Roman Lares display as much fondness for ceremony as more recent English fairies. The single event described here is not conclusive, however the parallel to the ceremonies of English fairies is apparent in its similarity to human celebrations which are carried out by the fairies on a grander, more elaborate scale.'
[9] Vespasian was Roman Emperor from October 69 to June 79. Shortly before he died, Vespasian is reported to have said Vae, puto deus fio, 'Alas, I believe I am becoming a god.'
[10] Halley: 'Rule given to hero concerning travel in Faerie. Simple, as in other stories with imposed rules, but is inevitably broken.'
[11] This is probably garum, a seasoned paste made predominately from fish intestine, which was the staple condiment of the Roman world.
[12] Pliny the Elder, uncle and adoptive father to Pliny the Younger, offers a brief anecdote in his Natural History in which Lepidus (who, with Octavian and Mark Antony, was a member of the second triumvirate in the latter 40s and early 30s BC), while visiting the house of a magistrate, complained that he was unable to sleep because of the chirping of the birds. Thereupon, an enormous dragon was painted upon several sheets of parchment which so frightened the birds that they fell silent.
[13] Halley: 'Adventure in three parts with significant event in the last-extremely common motif. Three stages here represent progression away from human (Roman) civilization:
1. City of the Gods: fairy rendition of Roman city life
2. Mythological painting: sojourn through major stories of Roman culture
3. Orchard: accoutrements of civilization absent. Manufactured foods explicitly not available: bread (in which grain must be milled, combined with other ingredients, allowed to rise, and baked), cheese (for which whey must be separated out, curds repeatedly drained and pressed) and relish (product manufactured from several ingredients); raw foods (fruit, olives, milk) are still available.
Third stage lasts longest time; fairy does not insist upon boy's return, as previously.'
[14] Again, Pliny would have named the year by its consuls rather than a number.
[15] Halley: 'Exact consequence of broken rule is unclear. Fairy's warning implies that boy might become somehow lodged in the wall but story's conclusion suggests that boy entirely vanished. Regardless, story source perhaps questionable; possibly (as some modern cases attest) originates from someone under some form of fairy curse.'

DISCLAIMER: Read below, whether authentic or not, it is interesting
On Ancient Fairies
from a Latin Text translated by
Edward Halley
Annotated by Lacy Neuland
The Famulus, reestablished 1817, volume viii, issue iv
The body of text presented here is Halley's translation of a letter by Pliny the Younger (61-112) to Licinius Sura (d.~108), from whom Pliny appears to have been accustomed to seek explanations of curious, indeed supernatural, matters. The text is otherwise unknown in any of the published volumes of Pliny's letters which survive, and Halley's papers contain only this clean copy of the translation, written in his hand. It is possible that Halley was aware that the document existed in the possession of some private collector and obtained access to it under the condition that Halley take away with him only the English translation he made and none of the Latin text itself. Halley's translation is certainly not a literal one, although there is no reason to assume that it greatly distorts the story Pliny relates in the letter. In addition to the letter itself, however, Halley's papers contain several pages of notes which he wrote with the intent of eventually composing an essay concerning fairies in Antiquity; Halley was evidently still in the process of gathering material for this essay at the time of his death. Halley's principle argument, at least with regard to this document, concerned the similarities between this account from Ancient Rome and fairies and fairy stories of recent centuries. He also, however, made note of the apparent strangeness-or distinctly non-human qualities-of fairies as recognized in the story.
My annotations fall into two major categories. Those of one incorporate Halley's preliminary notes for the planned essay, so that the reader may apprehend Halley's argument in as near to his own words as is possible. The second set of notes clarifies some terms in the translated letter whose full implications may be unfamiliar to those readers whose acquaintance with Latin may be scant to nonexistent; however, without the original Latin text I can only offer commentary with any surety upon a mere handful of phrases. Together, these annotations have, I hope, embraced Jonathan Strange's wish that magic be made more accessible to the general public.
Lacy R Neuland

Addendum/LIA:Just an aside, nymphae (oreads, dryads, naiads, nereids etc), fata, penates and demi-gods have been ascribed as "Roman Fairies or Fae") The word Fae comes from the Latin Fata.