every now and then i have to think of the roman family from two thousand years ago that buried their little daughter in a boy’s athletic-themed sarcophagus and i weep a little because that’s the softest declaration of love i can possibly imagine
i am once again emotional and sleep deprived so let me elaborate to make myself feel better.
octavia paulina was a six year old girl whose sarcophagus was found in her family’s tomb at via triumphalis in rome, dated roughly around the third century a.d. her parents mourned her mors immatura, her premature death, by having the wall behind her sarcophagus painted with the image of a giant meadow with children and a chariot pulled by doves accompanied by hermes leading an unconscious girl into afterlife. (to my knowledge, the doves and the fact that they were led by hermes was a symbol for hope.)
the sarcophagus itself shows athletic competitions between girls and boys alike, and in the most important one on the front, octavia paulina appears as the winner (a palm branch in her hand, which is meant to symbolize her strength and honor, her virtus). her opponent is sitting on the floor, upset. what really stands out is that octavia paulina’s parents ordered a common sarcophagus that was usually used to bury boys with athletic interests or futures but then proceeded to have it remodeled — smaller heads and genitalia cut off etc — to include girls in the relief.
i just get very soft when i think about parents ordering a sarcophagus for their little daughter who think it’s perfect for her and who remodel it to make it even more accurate for her. the thought of parents more than 1.700 years ago thinking their six year old daughter deserves a sarcophagus that fits her personality (rather than what was expected of her as a young girl of the time) despite none being available and then ordering for it to be altered makes me wanna scream because it’s such a human and caring thing to do. maybe octavia paulina even had a say in this because it took weeks to months to make a sarcophagus this detailed.
disclaimer: a lot of this messy little thing was transcribed from what my professor has told us in his sarcophagus class and this article; this is just a rambling post, it isn’t detailed or well put or structured properly, and not fit for scientific research.
In 2000 a Roman tomb from the first century DC was found in Grottaferrata, near Rome. Inside there were two sarcofagi in white marble identifying their occupants. Both people had died in summer, albeit years apart from each other, and had been preserved (an unusual detail that suggests they might have been followers of the cult of Isis). They were mother and son, other inscriptions tell us the tomb had been commissioned by the woman’s younger daughter (the half sister of the man) Antestia Balbina.
The young man, Carvilio Gemello, was around 18 when he died, likely as a consequence of a bone fracture in his leg. The woman, Aebutia, was around forty forty-five when she died and was buried wearing this ring (now housed in the Palestrina Archeological museum)
Behind the quartz window we can still see the face of Carvilio Gemello engraved in a golden miniature that his mother commissioned.
In a way, Aebutia and the parents of Octavia Paulina, succeeded in defying death with their acts of love. After thousands of years we can still see the face of Carvilio Gemello like his mother last saw him, know that Octavia Paulina was an athletic little girl beloved by her family. Life was unkind to both so those who loved them tried to make sure memory wouldn’t be.
