Birthing Romans: Childbearing and its Risks in Imperial Rome offers an in-depth analysis of how pregnancy and childbirth were understood in the Roman Empire. In doing so, Freidin addresses the issue of procreation and the social conception of women’s bodies. The author also goes beyond these issues to discuss the human and non-human networks around childbearing. With this intention, the author divides her work into five chapters, a concluding section and an extensive bibliography. The five chapters of the book offer different thematic approaches. However, there is a strong internal coherence to the chapters and there are many cross-references to other parts of the work throughout.
Freidin uses literary and epigraphic sources from the Latin-speaking West but also incorporates some material from the Greek-speaking half of the empire. This includes references to medical texts, legal documents, poetry and funerary art, among other things. The author nevertheless points to the diversity and multiculturalism of a Mediterranean empire, while attempting to identify the dominant elements in this diverse discourse. The work deals with a subject that has been of interest to the world of Roman studies for decades. Motherhood in ancient Rome has been a growing topic in the academic world with works such as Dixon (1984), Todman (2007) Petersen and Salzman-Mitchell (2012); Sánchez Romero and Cid López (2018). Most recently, attention has switched to fertility and the culture of reproduction, considering the impact of fertility as a concept into Roman social history (Hug, 2023). However, the author’s work is innovative in its approach to the subject, particularly when considering the concept of risk, how that risk was approached and how it could affect physically and mentally both women and the networks of contacts that were formed around pregnant women.
The first chapter presents the main narrative thread of the work: a funeral inscription detailing Veturia’s lifeline. The inscription reveals the names of her husband and father (but not her mother), that she had only one husband, and that she died after giving birth to six children, leaving only one. Veturia’s life experience is used to illustrate the main themes of the book. The narrative of her life is representative of the experience of Roman women, illustrating common themes such as family relationships, underage marriage, marriage within the military, infant mortality, breastfeeding and childbirth. The author uses the reconstruction of Veturia’s life cycle to demonstrate the centrality of marriage and childbearing in the lives of Roman women, even in remote areas of the empire. In this context, the author discusses the impact of the lex Iulia de adulteriis, the lex Iulia de maritandis ordinibus and the lex Papia Poppaea on everyday life. The study considers the social and legal significance of childbearing for freeborn women, freedwomen and slaves. The analysis also explores motherhood and childbearing from the perspectives of the women themselves and their families. Freidin emphasises the role of mothers in Augustus’ policies, highlighting their importance as a barometer of the health of the state. Childbirth was important to many, including Augustus, as he faced challenges to his succession. Furthermore, fecunditas was closely associated with the imperial family, due to the paramount significance of birth and birthright in securing political succession.
Chapter two discusses how women and girls view their bodies during pregnancy and childbirth. To achieve this, the author examines two domains: the landscape, which juxtaposes women’s bodies with the earth, and the waterscape, which links pregnancy and bodily intimacy with the sea. These concepts are illustrated through the iconographies of Fortuna or Tyche, and the cornucopia or rudder. Images of cultivation and harvesting are linked to human reproduction. Plant life offers a versatile, if limited, way of describing human vulnerability. Metaphors about plants feature in many fields, especially in Greek and Roman literature and art, where growth symbolises both cultural and social stability and vulnerability. In Soranus’ work, for instance, he made the case that women were to be viewed as a resource to be chosen like a plot of fertile land. In waterscapes, the author links the concept of pregnancy with language from sailing and the sea. This association evokes imagery of maritime activity and danger, while also alluding to moisture and female anatomy (wombs and vaginas). The notion of pregnancy emerges in tandem with discourses of risk and responsibility.
Tyche/Fortuna, cornucopia and the rudder are symbols representing connections between pregnancy, women’s bodies, landscapes and waterscapes. Together, they explore themes of gain, loss, fertility and danger. Fortuna is associated with Roman imperial power and human generation, despite not being a deity connected directly to birth. The symbols of the cornucopia and rudder also took on imperial significance. The cornucopia represented control over the empire’s resources or fertility, and the rudder symbolised Rome’s naval power. Fortuna’s ambivalence encompasses the human generation process. Fortuna also presided over dynastic succession as kingmaker and was linked to Rome’s monopoly over resources and landscapes, women’s bodies being linked to the territories and resources controlled by Rome.
In the third chapter, Soranus’ Gynaecology is used as a case study to delve into the question of how conceptions and ideals on women’s bodies were applied to the care of childbearing patients. Risk and risk management are here key concepts used by Freidin to read Soranus’ work. Freidin understands that Soranus conceptualises human generation as the fundamental basis for the structure of society. Thus, the work is regarded as a comprehensive manual on women’s healthcare, with a focus on optimal pregnancy outcomes underscoring its relevance in contemporary risk management strategies. It also explores a “larger project of social regulation”, emphasising the importance of reproduction in maintaining social order. The Gynaecology revolves around the concept of procreation, which is essential for the survival of the human race. However, this practice can have a negative impact on women’s health. Soranus’s work addresses this issue by proposing the development of his techne, which he sees as a necessary alternative to the suffering of women’s bodies. Freidin suggests that Soranus wrote a series of recommendations in the best interest of the community in relation to individual bodily well-being, with the aim of enhancing the elite in body and soul. The text is not solely concerned with childbearing, but rather with producing the strongest and most robust children who in turn can contribute to the perpetuation of the innate superiority of the elite, Soranus’ audience.
Chapter four examines the use of amulets and other symbolic tools as a means of mitigating the risks associated with childbirth. The amulets form part of a birthing network comprising human and non-human actors. The author examines the dynamics and logics underpinning birthing and gynaecological amulets, including how they were applied, by whom and the reasons for their efficacy. Discussion also extends to some of the tools used by women for self-care.
Amulets were used as tools of hope, drawing together several agencies such as divine powers, natures and human actors. The author examines this subject through the lenses of hope, efficacy and miniaturization. Formulae and prayers by family members and midwives, along with the use of amulets, were believed to generate collective or communal hope. Amulets were considered particularly useful in situations where other strategies had failed, and people were grappling with fear and despair. Following a detailed study of amulets in archaeological remains and texts, the author concludes that their efficacy derives from the interconnections they establish, both material and symbolic, among and within human and non-human bodies. Amulets have the capacity to bring together diverse agencies to safeguard individuals giving birth and their offspring. Miniaturization is the process of reducing the size of processes to a more manageable level, thereby creating a sense of control. Examples of this include inscribed gems, minerals, and pregnant dolls, which, due to their three-dimensional nature combined with miniaturization, could have offered a sense of intimacy to the user. The transition from oral invocations to written forms also expanded the potential of intimate objects, as inscriptions on papyrus or gold leaf could also serve as amulets.
Finally, the author discusses a series of uterine amulets, analysing their materials, shapes and functions. The author concludes that not all uterine amulets were birthing amulets, but rather that they served a variety of purposes. These amulets were not only useful tools that carried hope but also reminded women and girls of the support network available to them if needed. They also helped manage the anticipation of pregnancy. In this context, the materiality of the amulet becomes inseparable from its affective power, and it could even offer support for the person offering care, and not only for the patient. The author’s analysis therefore suggests that amulets were used by women to regain control over their bodies.
Chapter five explores the consequences of adverse outcomes, including the loss of a baby and/or mother. Death, especially among the very young, was a constant threat, and funerary inscriptions usually invoke the cruelty of the Fates or Fortune. The author focuses on Latin epigraphy and funerary art for their articulation of metaphysical ideas about the human cycle, shaped by non-human forces and divine energy. The aim of this chapter is to explore the interconnections between birth and death, fate and chance surveying attitudes that allowed people to see survival and loss as part of what it meant to live in an interconnected world. This section illustrates how preparing for birth required the securing of divine favour and protection but vows also raised the spectre of failure or rejection, since the gods could withhold support. Most interestingly, the chapter offers a theory on how blaming the Fates could be used to shift responsibility from human to non-human actors after early death. These deities embodied the idea that one’s chances in life were bound up with the timing of birth, when one’s death was also set. Meanwhile, Fortuna is represented in funerary epigraphy as a complementary force, suggesting the unexpected twists life can take. The combination of Fate and Fortuna provided a medium for articulating anger and disappointment without blaming human actors. Thus, vows made for the successful delivery of children demonstrate the belief in people’s ability to connect with the divinity for a better future and to deflect accountability. Successful vows in the form of altars showed one’s positive relationship with the divinity, linking human and divine communities, participating in a hierarchical, divine-human economy or network.
In sum, the book is of particular interest as it addresses not only the Roman birth process and the associated risks, but also the way societies confronted these risks and uncertainties. The emphasis on danger, risk management and the implications for the communities and hierarchies surrounding the birthing mother provides a unique perspective on all aspects of childbearing in premodern medical cultures. The author makes excellent use of the abundant sources at her disposal, bringing them into the discourse in an illustrative way. The author also provides information on modern debates on the subject. To this end, she also uses specially selected images to add depth to her arguments. The only downside is the book’s occasional overuse of scientific terms, with a lack of clarity on how these concepts are integrated into the overarching thematic framework, making it slightly difficult to read. Nevertheless, this book presents a cohesive argument of sufficient weight to become a key work in discussions of pregnancy, childbirth and risk management in ancient societies.
References
Dixon, S. (1988). The Roman Mother. Croom Helm / University of Oklahoma Press.
Hug, A. (2023). Fertility, Ideology, and the Cultural Politics of Reproduction at Rome. Brill.
Petersen, L. H., & Salzman-Mitchell, P. (2012). Mothering and Motherhood in Ancient Greece and Rome. The University of Texas Press
Sánchez Romero, M., & Cid López, R. M. (2018). Motherhood and Infancies in the Mediterranean in Antiquity. Oxbow Books.
Todman, D. (2007). Childbirth in ancient Rome: from traditional folklore to obstetrics. Aust N Z J Obstet Gynaecol, 47(2), 82-85. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1479-828X.2007.00691.x