Film Chronicle: Hercules Unchained by Pietro Francisci, and: Ben-Hur, by William Wyler, and: Quo Vadis by Mervyn LeRoy, and: The Fall of the Roman Empire by Anthony Mann, and: Spartacus by Stanley Kubrick, and: Rome: The Complete Series by Michael Apted, and: I, Claudius by Herbert Wise, and: The Sign of the Cross by Cecil B. DeMille, and: Cleopatra by Cecil B. DeMille, and Carry On Cleo

2019 ◽  
Vol 12 (2) ◽  
pp. 277-285
Author(s):  
Jefferson Hunter
2021 ◽  
pp. 60-73
Author(s):  
Dmitriy M. Abramov ◽  

Historical sources and evidence of the eyewitnesses of the 4th crusade in many respects reflect the complexity and sharpness of the contradictions between the Western and Eastern Christendom at the turn of the 12th – 13th centuries. The evidence and narrations proceed from the most direct participants in the military events, broke out on the shore of the Bosporus in 1203–1204. The authors of those materials belonged to the two opposing camps, and therefore the analysis of those sources represents a sufficiently complete and detailed picture of the occurred tragedy. A thorough analysis of the sources makes it possible to at least partially see and comprehend the causes of the military confrontation between the Western and Eastern Christians, who represented – just a while ago, in the first half of the 11th century – the united Ecumenical Church. The sources vividly reflect the mood that prevailed in the crusaders’ encampment in April, 1204, hesitation and doubt of the bulk of the Cross Warriors who were not sure of the rightness of their actions in the preparation for the assault of Constantinople. Many of them understood that they would have to raise the sword against their fellow believers – the Christians of the East. But the most tragic outcome of the 1202–1204 Crusade was the crushing defeat of Constantinople by the Cross Warriors. For the Romans (Byzantines) that became the reason for the disintegration of the Roman Empire. For all Eastern Christians it indicated the demise of the capital of the Orthodox Christendom.


2009 ◽  
Vol 55 (3) ◽  
pp. 295-314 ◽  
Author(s):  
L. L. Welborn

This essay explores the heuristic force of Alain Badiou's theory of ‘truth-processes’ for an understanding of the psycho-social effect of Paul's gospel upon first-century inhabitants of the Roman Empire, both elite and lower class. Badiou's analysis of the ‘situated void’ around which existence is constructed directs attention to figures of the subject as ‘living death’ in the literature of the first century, illuminating the process by which a new, liberated self came forth, in response to Paul's message of the resurrection. An immanent critique of Badiou's singular emphasis upon the resurrection as the Pauline ‘truth-event’ gives rise to an hypothesis regarding Paul's description of his gospel as ‘Christ crucified’ in his later epistles: Paul dared to name the ‘situated void’ around which the existence of slaves was constructed in order to redeem the oppressed, whose identities were submerged in shame, from the annihilating power of the cross.


Author(s):  
Ruth Scodel

The immense success of Quo vadis in the United States prompted widespread interest in both its most interesting character, Petronius, and in its account of the reign of Nero. Although Sienkiewicz mentions the Satyricon only briefly, in the period following the novel’s appearance new translations of the Cena Trimalchionis were published, along with editions intended for students of Latin, despite the Satyricon’s earlier reputation as decadent and its association with pornography. Sienkiewicz’s sympathetic portrayal of Petronius was probably responsible for making this reception of the Cena possible. The general educated public was also concerned about the historical basis of Quo vadis. Readers who found the novel too sensational, as many did, not surprisingly also questioned its historical accuracy. Debates about the novel also show the complex influence of Gibbon’s Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, which accepts Tacitus’s account of Nero’s persecution, but more generally argues that Christian accounts of persecutions are exaggerated. American critics of Quo vadis applied Gibbon’s arguments about Diocletian’s persecution to Nero’s. Academics who provided expert guidance seem uncritical compared to ancient historians today: while they point out that Tacitus did not have personal knowledge of Nero’s reign, they do not consider his sources or methods.


2018 ◽  
Vol 49 (2) ◽  
pp. 239-260 ◽  
Author(s):  
Alberto Bardi

Recent scholarship on a Byzantine astronomical handbook on how to use a set of astronomical tables stemming from Islamic tradition sheds new light on a transfer of knowledge that occurred in the fourteenth century between the Ilkhanate and Byzantium. As this source was so far unpublished, the present paper gives an outline of the main textual features, then discusses the source in the framework of the cross-cultural contacts between Byzantine and non-Byzantine scholars between the Eastern Roman Empire and the Ilkhanate.


1994 ◽  
Vol 87 (4) ◽  
pp. 421-433 ◽  
Author(s):  
Mark Gustafson

Lactantius, in his shrill polemical pamphlet De mortibus persecutorum, made the following observation while attacking his principal adversary, the emperor Galerius: “There was no mild punishment with him, not islands, not mines, not prisons; but fire, the cross, and wild beasts were daily and ready at hand.” More than a sign of the times, it is also a measure of his fury that Galerius could make exile, hard labor, and imprisonment seem to be lenient sentences. While one must resist succumbing immediately to credulity, one also must admit that even such hyperbole may have a kernel of truth in it. Lactantius probably assumed—as did many others—that the myriad adjustments to the complex relations between the church and the empire, which were in the process of being engineered by Constantine and his associates, would eliminate the need to inflict such punishments on Christians for religious reasons.


Author(s):  
Elżbieta Ostrowska

Made in 2001 by Jerzy Kawalerowicz, the Polish film Quo vadis represents a vernacular variant of ‘heritage cinema’ which has flourished in the country since 1989. Mostly consisting of adaptations of Polish literary classics, whose action takes place in a relatively distant past, they feature protagonists who are preoccupied by matters such as love, honour, and patriotism that are always linked with Catholicism. As demonstrated in this chapter, Kawalerowicz’s film also condones regressive gender norms, patriarchal order, and the hegemonic discourse of Catholicism. Most importantly, the chapter will argue that Quo vadis follows other novels by Sienkiewicz in developing a vernacular colonial fantasy. In Kawalerowicz’s Quo vadis colonial fantasies merge with contemporary discourse about Poland’s Europeanness. Arguably, Lygia’s romance with Marcus Vinicius, who decides to convert to Christianity, implies a symbolic union between (Eastern European) Poland and the (Western European) Roman Empire. Kawalerowicz’s decision to frame the ancient story with two contemporary images of the Roman Colosseum seems to suggest that, ultimately, Poland has ‘returned to Europe’—as the post-communist slogan claimed. The chapter will also pay special attention to the film’s melodramatic mode of representation and its affective power, as well as to its potential to present a utopian world of moral potency and transparency. Melodrama in Quo vadis provides a textual space through which viewers could channel the emotions they had experienced during the stark time of transition.


Author(s):  
David Mayer

In contrast to the applause and attendance figures generated by the several film adaptations which followed from 1913, theatrical renderings of Quo vadis were ridiculed, and stage runs were conspicuously brief. Theatre was not able to realise the strongly physical episodes the novelist had imagined and that motion pictures could supply. Although posters advertising the play depicted Lygia’s ordeal in the arena and her rescue by the strong-man Ursus grappling with a maddened aurochs, this crucial ‘sensation scene’ was never brought before theatre audiences. At best, stage versions of Quo vadis were disappointing, at worst they were dismal failures. On the English-speaking stage, three separate iterations of Quo vadis, not adapted until 1900, followed Wilson Barrett’s 1895 play The Sign of the Cross by five years and followed William Young’s theatrical version of Ben-Hur by a year. It wasn’t merely that these earlier plays had consumed the oxygen that might have given life to Quo vadis, it was also that stage versions of Quo vadis relied on similar configurations of characters found in The Sign of the Cross, of Christian-Pagan conflict, and of plots of martyrdom at the whims of despotic Roman emperors and their lubricious wives. Even Wilson Barrett’s adaptation failed to generate much enthusiasm and was readily replaced by his money-spinning biblical dramas and toga-plays. This study will consider adaptations by Jeanette L. Gilder, by Stanislav Stange, and Wilson Barrett. It will account for more successful stage versions of the novel performed in the Roman Catholic countries Italy and France.


1932 ◽  
Vol 22 (1) ◽  
pp. 9-23 ◽  
Author(s):  
Andreas Alföldi

The final settlement which began in A.D. 300 between the menacing power of Christianity and the forces of the state, was the unavoidable consequence of a long and slow development. The men who then stood at the head of the Roman Empire were compelled to become the protagonists in the last act of this great drama and, clearly as its final issue may have been indicated from the first, by the positions they adopted materially affected the course of the drama.As all know, the climax was reached with the conversion of Constantine. Quite recently, however, so eminent a Byzantine scholar as H. Grégoire has disputed the belief that the Battle of the Mulvian Bridge was won in the sign of the Cross, and, as more than one serious student has accepted his view, we shall have to follow in rather closer detail his brilliant description of the political developments of these years. We shall readily admit with him that the account of Eusebius in the Vita Constantini, i, 28–30, is a highly-coloured romance and panegyric, marred by rehandling and later interpolation, and quite inconsistent with the information of Lactantius: yet, despite all this, it has a definite kernel of history in it, as I hope soon to show.


Sign in / Sign up

Export Citation Format

Share Document