Voice in the Wind: Does Julia Even Have Free Will?

Voice in the Wind, pp. 245-257

This section starts with a return to Atretes, who has become such a star that an inn keeper who knows Bato (the director of the lanista) has paid him to spend a night in his inn. Of the thirty aurei Atretes will be paid for spending the night, he will be able to keep ten aurei (the rest going to Bato and the emperor).

We learn that Atretes has now amassed 21 kills. It is unclear how much time has gone by, but it can’t have been more than a year, or two maximum, since Atretes’ first fight. According to historian Mary Beard, gladiators typically fought only twice a year, and only one in three matches resulted in a kill. Of course, Bato does tell Atretes that, as “the reigning king of the Roman arena,” he will “train constantly, but fight only four to six times a year.”

In this section, Bato encourages Atretes to use his fame and the money he can make off of it to create a life for himself, even as a gladiator. He tells Atretes that Celerus had his own house and slaves, even though he was still a gladiator and a slave himself. Atretes is encouraged to let go of his “bitterness” and enjoy his life.

This section ends in a riot as screaming women mob Atretes on his way to the inn, which has advertised Atretes’ coming.

“Get out of here or they’ll tear you to pieces!” Bato shouted, grabbing one woman by the hair and flinging her back. His swift action gave Atretes enough of an opening to escape.

Atretes never does spend the night at the inn, but he gets his aurei anyway, because of all the attention his almost-arrival brings the establishment. When he and Bato go the next day to meet with the innkeeper, Pugnax, we learn that he is a freed gladiator himself—and he speaks fondly of his days in the arena. “You’ll never be as alive as you are right now, Atretes, when you face death every day,” he says. Atretes doesn’t believe Pugnax, as he later tells Bato.

“Pugnax is a fool,” Atretes said. “He is free. Why doesn’t he return to his homeland?”

“He tried, but he no longer belonged in Gaul. His wife was dead, his children adopted and raised by others. … What is there for you in Germania? A young wife who holds your heart? Do you think she will wait ten years, maybe twenty, for you to return to her?”

“I have no wife.”

“A village then? What’s left of it? Rubble and ash? Your people dead? Taken as slaves? Scattered? There’s nothing left for you in Germania.”

All of this is a setup for later, of course, when Atretes is inevitably freed. What will he do? Stay and create a life for himself as a former gladiator? Or go back to Germania to find what is left for him, if anything? Beyond that, Rivers has taken the role of dispassionate enough narrator that I’m not sure whether there are any moral lessons to be found here. Is the lesson that material goods are unsatisfying? That even freedom is less fulfilling than having something to live for (whether that’s fighting, as for Pugnax, or God and religion, as for Hadassah)? Or is this simply setup?

I moved quickly through this section, though, because I want to get back to Julia.

Caius Polonius Urbanus was the most handsome man Julia had ever seen. The first time she met him at Calabah’s, he had done nothing more than smile at her and take her hand, but she had felt almost faint from the rush of excitement that raced through her blood.

Decimus relaxed the mourning restrictions he had set on Julia, on the condition that she not visit Calabah (this was Marcus’ suggestion, I don’t think Decimus even knows who Calabah even is). And so, of course, Julia is at Calabah’s. Julia can get away with this because Marcus is traveling on business.

With [Marcus] away, Father occupied with business, and Mother unaware of life beyond the walls of the villa, Julia could do as she wished.

Interestingly, this sentence presents Marcus as the one actually trying to control and regulate Julia’s interactions and friendships, not her parents. Also—why doesn’t Phoebe have a life beyond her villa? Wouldn’t she have had friends? Wouldn’t she have gone to parties or other events where individuals of her class mingle? Wouldn’t she have visited temples or have gone to the marketplace? Phoebe’s complete isolation from the world outside of her home is odd—and yet, it is never treated as though it is odd.

But Julia—Julia is smitten.

Caius was often at Calabah’s villa, and Julia was in awe of his powerful, viral presence. He had only to look at her and her mind turned to forbidden thoughts. Octavia told her he was Calabah’s lover, but that bit of unwelcome information only added to his charisma. What sort of man could satisfy a woman like Calabah? Surely one far more male than any other.

Far more male? What does that even mean?

Even now, his dark eyes teased and caressed Julia until she longed to escape the tumultuous feelings he aroused in her. She fanned herself and tried to concentrate on Calabah’s diatribe, but her mind kept wondering to the most sensuous thoughts. Caius rose from his couch. As he came toward her, her body flooded with warm tingling. Her heart beat so fast and heard she feared he would hear it.

At this point we enter Caius’ perspective, and it is instructive. While all Julia can think about is how aroused she is by Caius, Caius—and Calabah—are thinking about far more. Julia is nothing but a pawn in the games of others.

As they talked about Calabah’s ideas, Caius realized how little Julia really knew Calabah. He could tell Calabah’s young friend was limited in her perception of those outside her world, and, of course, Calabah only revealed what she wanted people to see. She was shrewd. Caius had no doubt Calabah had plans for the young Valerian, but he didn’t know what they entailed. He did know Calabah never groomed anyone without a purpose, and she was drawing Julia into her inner circle…

In a flashback, Rivers relates a conversation between Calabah and Caius:

“Julia’s family could be quite helpful to you.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Calabah? Did I frighten you the other day with my passion?”

“I’ve never been frightened of anything, Caius, least of all a man. But what excites you doesn’t excite me. I’m trying to be generous and think of what’s best for a dear, dear friend. I’m not the woman for you, Caius. I think Julia Valerian is.”

Caius knew Calabah never did anything without ulterior motives, and he wondered now why she was so ready to hand him one of her lovely young followers like an offering on an altar. He was intrigued.

“What do you know about her?”

“Watch her at the games. She has depths of passion no one even suspects. Not even Julia herself. For you, she is unbroken ground just waiting for the till. She’s hungry for life. Plant whatever seeds you desire, Caius, and watch them grow.”

Calabah was never wrong about people.

Everything in this story is being done to Julia. Julia was married off to Claudius against her will, and now that she is exerting some independence, she’s about to be unwittingly married off by others again, a pawn in a game she doesn’t realize she’s playing. Her first marriage was arranged by her father; her second marriage will be arranged by Calabah.

Decimus and Phoebe have managed to raise an incredibly naive, innocent child—and in doing so they have put her in danger. She doesn’t know how to watch out for herself, because she has never been taught how to. Visiting gladiator training schools and buying crystals in the marketplace are harmless. Falling in with bad friends—now that is going to cause her problems. But it’s also in a very real way not her fault. Her parents gave her zero preparation.

And Calabah—what is she, exactly? She talks a good talk about women being independent, while secretly and through backroom dealing arranging a marriage for one of her female acolytes. She’s not actually encouraging Julia to be independent, she’s manipulating her like a pawn. Calabah uses people, and words, to her own advantage. Does she actually believe in female independence and power, or only in doing whatever elevates her position?

As for her grand plan—what is it she wants for Julia, anyway? Rivers does not tell us why she is giving Julia to Caius. She tells us that Caius knows she does nothing without a reason, but gives no hint of what that reason is. And if you want to know how well Julia’s about-to-be marriage to Caius is—well. I’ll just leave you with this. Trigger warning for sexual assault.

When Caius took her in his arms [in the privacy of Calabah’s garden], Julia stiffened instinctively. Then he kissed her and the rush of pleasure drowned all resistance. His hands were strong, and she melted against him. When he drew back slightly, she was weak and trembling.

“With me, you’ll feel things you never dreamed you could feel,” Caius said hoarsely and grew bolder. Some small cry of conscience rose within her at the liberties he was taking.

“No,” she gasped softly. “You mustn’t touch me like that.”

Caius only laughed softly and pulled her back. He kissed her again, silencing her protest and inflaming her passion.

Julia spread her hands against the fine wool of his toga and felt the firm ridges of muscles beneath. The brush of his spice-scented breath raised goos bumps along the curve of her neck. She moaned softly, helplessly, and he kissed her again.

He was hurting her, but Julia didn’t care.

“Did Claudius Flaccus make your heart race like it’s racing now?” Caius asked. Julia thought she would faint with the intensity of what she was feeling. “If he were alive now, I’d take you from him, even if it meant killing him,” he rasped. The tone in his voice both thrilled and terrified her.

Julia knew as she looked up into his dark, glowing eyes and felt the fever in her blood that she had to be with him, whatever the cost. “Oh, Caius, I love you. I’ll do anything you want, anything…”

With that, Caius had his answer of how far Julia would go. Of course, he wouldn’t push her know. Time enough for that when she was within his full power and retreat was impossible.

He smiled. Calabah was right about Julia Valerian. This girl was made for him.

Oh yeah, this is going to go great.

Calabah isn’t just arranging Julia’s next marriage. Calabah is arranging for Julia to marry a man she has to know is abusive. Calabah has know Caius for a long time. She and Caius have been lovers. Remember her comment to Caius that “what excites you doesn’t excite me”? She knows. Add to this that Calabah told Caius Julia was the right woman for him because Julia is “unbroken ground just waiting of the till” in which he could plant “whatever seeds you desire.” So much for female empowerment.

At some point during the course of Downton Abbey, I got mad at the show’s writers for torturing Edith. The constant string of setbacks and problems and insults Edith faced didn’t feel natural. It felt like something the writers were dreaming up. “OMG, STOP TORTURING EDITH,” my friends and I would say to each other while watching. This feels similar. It doesn’t feel like a natural. It feels like Rivers is throwing all this at Julia in order to torture her.

And what, pray tell, are Calabah’s ulterior motives? We learned from Caius that Calabah never does anything without reason. Toward the end of the book there is some suggestion that Calabah wanted Julia for herself, perhaps as a lesbian lover—but how exactly does throwing Julia at Caius further that?

Last week a commenter who has read the book to its end suggested that perhaps Calabah is trying to turn Julia off of men by throwing her in the way of men she knows are controlling and abusive, so that ultimately heterosexual Julia will consent to be her lover (having decided that men were not worth the trouble). That is plausible, but it is frustrating that in a book where is much is stated outright rather than inferred, this is not.

The first part of this book is about Julia struggling to be free of her father; the second part of the book is about Julia blindly following Calabah. Perhaps that is the central conceit of this book—women cannot actually be free, Rivers suggests. Even when women think they are free, they are not—they are blindly following someone. Their decisions are not truly their own. Only women like Hadassah, who may be a slave but is devoted to joyfully serving Jesus, are truly free.

Also—literally none of the sexual encounters in this book are consensual. Well, almost none. Julia’s later affair with Atretes is arguably consensual, though Atretes’ ability to consent is perhaps compromised by his status as a slave. Julia’s encounters with Claudius were not consensual (she is a 15-year-old child bride who trembles at his touch), and her encounters with Caius will be constantly laced with the sorts of consent violations we see above. And Marcus and Hadassah—well, let’s just say that there’s more sexual assault coming.