From narrative to symbol: mythological imagery on Roman sarcophagi

written by Hallie Burke

Working on MANTO has been a fulfilling experience. With a limited knowledge of Pompeii, it was fascinating to explore the plethora of domestic wall art that existed within this ancient site. Most notably, the depictions of Greek myth. Despite countless encounters with Ariadne or Narcissus, the works that piqued my interest were the ones I would describe as macabre. These included scenes of Medea killing her own children or the brutal death of Actaeon. Why would a household choose to decorate their wall with such morbid tales? 

This question of taste further arose when I turned later in the internship to work on Roman sarcophagi and will be the focus of this post. Why did the deceased embellish their sarcophagi with a scene of murder? What did it symbolise? Working through Zanker and Ewald’s 2012 book Living with Myths: the Imagery of Roman Sarcophagi, one example I discovered was a sarcophagus at the Louvre (inv. MA 459).

Roman Marble Sarcophagus from the Louvre (inv. MA 459), depicting the myth of Actaeon and Artemis.

Image: Wikimedia. Used in accordance with CC license.

Created in 125-130 CE in Rome, this marble sarcophagus’ front panel shows the demise of the hunter Actaeon. Pictured from right to left, we see Artemis, in the middle of bathing, catching sight of Actaeon, who has stumbled upon her. As punishment, the goddess metamorphoses him into a stag, not depicted, and on the left of the panel, his dogs are shown devouring him. Actaeon is illustrated in human form in this scene for the viewer to recognise him, but there are antlers on his head, symbolising the transformation. Thus, a rather gruesome tale.

So, what did it mean? Often used to commemorate the life of the dead, the decoration on the Louvre sarcophagus puzzled me. How did the myth of Actaeon serve as a form of commemoration? I discovered my answer in Michael Koortbojian’s 1995 book Myth, Meaning, and Memory on Roman Sarcophagi: “the sarcophagi present analogies, not identifications” (p. 9). Moreover, the themes revealed in the ancient stories are significant, not the tale itself. In the case of the Louvre sarcophagus, Actaeon’s innocence and unfortunate fate may have been comparable to the deceased’s life. Perhaps even evoking memories of an unjust death.

This concept can further be seen in a sarcophagus from the Berlin State Museums (inv. SK  843b). Made in 140-150 CE, the relief on this marble sarcophagus illustrates the myth of Creusa and Medea. Starting from the left, Creusa, the bride of Jason and daughter of Corinthian King Creon, is depicted receiving a diadem and robe as a wedding gift. It is handed to her by the children of Jason and Medea, his former spiteful lover. In the centre, Creusa is in evident pain due to the diadem and robe given to her, which were laced with a poison that burnt her alive. Medea, the instigator of Creusa’s death, is pictured on the right of the relief. In chronological order, she ponders the death of her children, who are depicted playing before her, as revenge for Jason deserting her. Then, after committing the act, she is shown fleeing in a chariot. Once again, a morbid narrative of murder.

Roman Marble Sarcophagus from the Berlin State Museums (inv. SK  843b), depicting the myth of Creusa and Medea.

Image: Wikimedia. Used in accordance with CC license.

Similar to the Louvre sarcophagus, the depiction of this tale on the sarcophagus in Berlin may symbolise the life of the dead. Through Medea’s actions, namely killing her own children and Creusa, the viewer can see she is a slave to her passion for revenge. This immense desire could symbolise a prime aspect of a woman’s nature, or so the ancients believed, which was amor (Koortbojian, 1995, p. 9). In other words, love and passion. Therefore, the deceased may have wanted these emotions to be associated with them in their commemoration.

From these findings, it is evident there is still much to learn about Roman sarcophagi. I quite enjoyed examining them as part of my work for MANTO and marvelling at the unusual and morbid depictions of Greek myth. It was definitely an unforgettable experience!

  This is the fifth in a series of blog posts from students at Macquarie University who are participating in this semester’s PACE internship.