Voice in the Wind, pp. 360-364
Decimus and Phoebe are finally moving to Ephesus. Marcus is horrified. “I can’t believe you’ve actually gone through its this,” he tells Decimus. Decimus is implacable.
Rome had taken more from him than she had given. The great and respectable Republic of Rome had long since passed away. For all the beauty and magnificence that remained, he found himself living atop a rotting corpse. He could no longer endure the stench or stand by and watch how the corruption and decay of the Empire affected his own son and daughter. Perhaps by leaving, he could draw them away as well.
I’m curious how this compares to declension narratives used at the time—because every society has its declension narratives. I’m also curious what Marcus has done so wrong in Decimus’ eyes. Marcus succeeds in business and works hard. Is the problem that he womanizes rather than finding a woman and settling down? If so, why haven’t we seen either Decimus or Phoebe trying to set him up with anyone, or urging him to marry?
Actually, this reminds me of something that happened earlier. Marcus was angry beyond belief that Julia slept with Anicetus in exchange for Anicetus erasing some of Caius’ debt. At the beginning of the book, though, rumors were rampant that Marcus had slept with Fannia, a senator’s wife. Marcus states that “Patrobus was so busy stuffing his mouth with goose livers he paid no attention whatsoever,” so the implication is that this dalliance happened at a party, as it did in Julia’s case. And when Arria chided him for it? “He didn’t like the proprietary look on her face.”
Now maybe Marcus’ objection to Julia’s act was to the cancelation of Caius’ debt, but I don’t think that’s enough to explain it. When Julia asks what Marcus has heard, he says “That you let him use you in order to cancel Caius’ debts.” So there’s the debts part—but also the “you let him use you” part. While I would like to know more, perhaps, about how the Romans talked about sex, this does fit with a patriarchal approach that prioritizes male pleasure. Marcus used Fannia. Julia allowed Anicetus to use her.
I still feel like we should have seen Phoebe trying to set Marcus up with available young women of his social class, if it is his womanizing that’s the problem.
We learn two things as Marcus and Decimus argue—that Decimus’ father was a shopkeeper near the docks in Ephesus, and that Phoebe is not Ephesian. Was she Greek? Her name would suggest so. Did she grow up with wealth or was it new to her? We know a decent amount about Decimus’ background, but nothing at all about Pheobe’s.
But then there’s also this:
“What of Julia?” he said, knowing he would have an ally in her. “What has she to say to this plan of yours? Or have you bothered to tell her yet?”
“She’s coming with us.”
Marcus gave a sardonic laugh. “Do you really think so? You’ll have to drag her to the ship. She’s struggling enough with having to be here under your roof again!”
“I spoke with your sister this morning and told her of my plans. She seemed almost relieved at the idea of leaving Rome. Her grief over Caius’ loss, I expect. She wants to be away from all reminders of him.” Or perhaps it was the result of a visit from that Fontaneus woman that had left Julia pale and reticent, and eager to leave Rome.
Marcus stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Speak with her for yourself if you don’t believe me,” Decimus said.
Do you know what I learned from this passage? I learned that Marcus hasn’t done a lick to listen to or try to understand his sister in recent months. I mean for gracious sake, she’s now living in the house with them. Marcus was so cocksure Julia would refuse to ever leave Rome. Has he even talked to her since her return? When Julia visited Caius’ tomb we learned that Marcus was so “distracted” when she took him with her that he was no help at all.
As I’ve already mentioned, Julia’s complaint later is going to be that her whole family replaced her with Hadassah. Remember, Julia’s complaint is supposed to be ridiculous, the product of a depraved, selfish mind. I don’t find it so. The actions she’ll eventually take in response to this are abhorrent, but her anger is real, and her complaint has merit.
Rivers tells us that “even more than his concern for Julia’s problems were his own feelings about his father’s decision,” and there she gets close to the truth—but not close enough. In this passage, after all, he appeals to Julia without ever talking to her to back up his own position that Decimus should not leave Rome—and when he learns that Julia actually wants to leave, he keeps right on arguing. Does he really care at all about Julia’s problems? Remember, last week he told his mother that Julia’s problems were mostly of her own making.
One last aside: Last week several readers argued that Julia’s lashing out at Hadassah actually read as realistic to them. Victims of trauma and abuse, they noted, may direct anger at those around them without necessarily knowing why; this response might be particularly strong toward someone who seems to always have it all together. Processing trauma is difficult, and can be messy.
Marcus, meanwhile, is acting like an angry teenager.
“What if I were to tell you that I have no desire to leave Rome? Would you postpone this decision you’ve made without consulting me?”
“Is it necessary for a father to consult a son about anything?” Decimus said, his face rigid. “I will do as I must without seeking your approval. You can make your own decisions. remain in Rome if it pleases you.”
Marcus felt the shock of abandonment.
For serious, Marcus? And it doesn’t get any better. Decimus gives Marcus a scroll and tells him that it’s his inheritance. Marcus is shocked. It is extremely unusually for a man to give his son his inheritance while he’s still alive, so Marcus works out that his father must be dying. Marcus concludes that Decimus has “given up on himself.”
Marcus is angry his father didn’t tell him that “this illness that’s plagued you isn’t passing,” and he’s angry with Decimus for not continuing to fight. He tries to get him to take the scroll back. Decimus stands firm, and tells Marcus that with his management Julia will be provided for for life, and that he has also arranged for Phoebe. Decimus tells Marcus that what he does is up to him, that he can manage his business Decimus built or sell it piece by piece.
“Ah, yes, Father, as always, you’ve seen to everyone. Julia’s estate in my hands, Mother’s life arranged to the moment of her death, and even my life all neatly tied up!” He held the scroll up. “In one breath, you tell me you’re dying and then strip away my freedom by handing me all you’ve built and worked for, handing me your life, in a document.” He crushed it in his hand. “And then you have the unmitigated gall to tell me I have a choice in what I will do!” He tossed the crumpled scroll on the desk among the others.
“What choice?” he said and left.
It’s absolutely true that ideas about honor and duty could bind even someone with as much money and as many connections as Marcus. Here is what confuses me, though—Marcus enjoys business, and I’m fairly sure he has always assumed that he would head his father’s business after him. This isn’t someone who has spent the first half of this book arguing that he doesn’t want to be in business, that he wants to be a poet. The only conflict we’ve seen between Marcus and Decimus over business has concerned whether the family business should ship in sand for the arenas; Marcus said sand, Decimus said grain. And now, Marcus can ship in as much sand as he wants. So why is he upset?
The only thing I can conclude is that Marcus is lashing out at his father because he’s angry at the confirmation that his father is dying. He does not want his father to die. And for him, Decimus leaving Rome, and giving him his inheritance now, signals that Decimus has given up and accepted his coming death. But Marcus has not.
I’m now convinced that everyone in this book needs counseling.