Tuesday, 14 June 2011

Another thing...


In the previous post I wrote about a thing. Although it was very good at what it was supposed to do, to be honest the Philips TRESemmé HP4882/07 Salon Control Ionic Hairdryer 2000w was not a particularly outstanding ‘thing’. To be a great thing something needs to have not only functionality but style and awesomeness (in the original context of the word) too - a wow factor of some sort - and no hairdryer can have the last unless it is a hairdryer that doubles as a heat-seeking rocket launcher. You need to walk away from that thing thinking “Incredible! That is certainly something that I shall remember for a while yet.” Or if (unlike me) you are not a pretentious git, thinking “wow, I’m gonna remember that!” will also be acceptable.

This brings me on to my next thing. This thing definitely has a wow factor, and not just because of its cool Latin name. I’ll bet you’ve never heard of this thing before, but after this you’ll never forget about it. The thing that I am talking about is a thing called ‘naumachia’, and it is basically the Roman version of the board game ‘Battleships’, but played with real ships and real people on a really, really big board.

Essentially, this immense naval version of ‘Gladiator’ pits two (or more) teams of prisoners of war against each other in a giant water-filled pit. These teams (of a thousand plus fighters) mash it out in boats ranging from small scaphas to monstrous triremes and quinqueremes. Smaller versions could be held in modified amphitheatres (such as the Coliseum), but for the most part these vast spectacles of death and terror occurred in specially dug basins, few of which remain even slightly intact today.

As you can imagine, these events were not particularly easy to organise. Even an emperor of Rome would have had difficulty gathering a couple of hundred warships and several thousand prisoners in the middle of a densely populated city. As such the naumachia were not given (sic) very frequently. After the first one, given by Julius Caesar (that arrogant bastard whom Brutus and his boys considerately rid us all of), 50 years passed before a subsequent was organised.

Once a naumachia had begun, the unfortunate condemned-to-die would attempt to stay the inevitable outcome for as long as possible. In the unlikely event that there was enough manoeuvring space in the glorified bathtub for two fleets, the ships would ram into each other, fire arrows and generally employ basic naval warfare tactics to disable and sink the other team’s boats. If, as was usually the case, the tub was too crowded for the ships to do anything other than sit around being tactically useless, the audience would be ‘treated’ to a tremendous scene of hand-to-hand combat. Either way, there was a lot of blood, gore and death.

You might remember I mentioned that a thing needs three features to be considered great: functionality, style and a wow factor. Even though I don’t particularly condone it, in this regard naumachia is pretty remarkable. It undoubtedly has the wow factor, in that its scale and apparent inhumanity are almost incomprehensible.  Aside from the unfathomable cruelty and scope, it does hold a certain amount of prestige that is inherent to things associated with Roman emperors (laurel wreaths, the Coliseum, etc) and this accounts for its style. It is in functionality that a dispute breaks out:

A lot of people may argue that the slaughter of thousands of lives for pure and fleeting amusement cannot be productive in any way, and that it is simply a long lost mistake from a long lost civilisation. My opinion however, is different. To me, naumachia really seems like the Roman version of going to the movies, except in HD, surround sound, 3D, IMAX, and without any restrictions on bringing your own snacks. Now what could possibly be more useful to the ancients’ entertainment industry than that?