Rome Unearthed: An Interview with Mary Beard on Pompeii and the Ancient World

Randall Stephens: Do you remember your first visit to Pompeii?

Mary Beard: I have a very vivid memory of my first visit. I went with a friend. I'd been studying Pompeii at Cambridge as an undergraduate, and she hadn't. I was going to be the guide. I was devastated when we got there. So much of what I'd learned, particularly about the art and the wall decorations, had been made to seem so clear and so important and so sort of fixed. But none of the stuff I saw in Pompeii matched what I'd learned. There seemed to be a huge gap between people's desire to explain it and systematize it and what you actually saw when you walked around.

Stephens: In The Fires of Vesuvius you write, "The fact is that we know both a lot more and a lot less about Pompeii than we think." Could you say a little about what you mean here?

Beard:What is amazing about Pompeii is that you can walk around and try to reconstruct the life of the town. I remember walking down the street a few years ago and noticing little holes drilled in the curbstones, often outside houses, but not always. I'd never seen these mentioned in books. My husband and I started trying to hash this puzzle out, and we decided that they must be where they tied up animals. There had to be tethering posts because there were loads of mules and other animals going through the city. I eventually found a few articles debating what they were. So all you need to do is go to Pompeii with your eyes open and say: "I wonder what that was."

Stephens: Even ancient graffiti, which you point out is so ubiquitous at Pompeii, gives us a more complex picture of this world than one might think.

Woman playing kithara with servant at the villa of P. Fannius Synistor, buried after the Vesuvius eruption. From Felice Barnabei, La Villa Pompeiana di P. Fannio Sinistore Scoperta Presso Boscoreale (Rome, 1901).

Beard: You can go into a house and, even if you don't read Latin, you can see that some of the graffiti scrolled on these walls is about three feet high. Well, that's obviously someone kneeling down, or it's a child—much more likely a child. I think there's an enormous amount of fun in trusting your innate powers of observation and going from there.

Stephens: The layers of interpretation and the layers of ruins that you've uncovered in the book are intriguing. How much of what we know of Pompeii is shaped by what happened after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius?

Beard: It has an interesting history after the eruption—in the period, that is, when we think of Pompeii as happily asleep, waiting for rediscovery. While I'm suspicious of the view that the Romans undertook an enormous and systematic rescue operation soon after the eruption, it seems extremely likely that salvagers came to get the really valuable stuff—statues from the forum, and so on. It must have been frightfully dangerous, and some of them almost certainly died in the attempt because the tunnels would have collapsed. Some of the bodies that you can now see—casts of bodies made where their remains left a vacuum in the lava—are almost certainly bodies of looters, not those of the unfortunate Pompeii victims.

Stephens: Was there a great deal of damage done in the 18th century with the first excavations?

Beard: 18th-century excavations were pretty brutal. Early excavators wanted Roman art. Looking only for paintings and other precious things, they simply cleared everything else away. The bits they particularly prized were often in the center of a wall where there would be a landscape scene or a mythological scene, something that fit into their idea of what a painting was. The 18th-century excavators hacked them out and took them to the museum in Naples. And they turned them, in a sense...