It always amazes me where ideas come from - I mean, most of mine come from dreams or weird thoughts (which is probably normal), but inspiration can strike at any time, even watching a documentary about Roman roads – I know, rock and roll lifestyle.
(Please note I talk about infant mortality, so skip this week if needed.)
Anyway, they were discussing infant bones dug up near a site of Roman settlements. These bones were basically dumped on a rubbish pile, not buried, and it went on to mention how Romans didn’t think of a child as really alive/human until around its first birthday.
I found this quite grizzly - they didn’t go into any details, and it only took a few seconds of wondering why to figure it out; plus, a quick Google search confirmed my thoughts along with some truly horrid notions of how easily it was to discard a baby back then - some kind of deformity, a slaves child, a girl just throw it away – horrid, I mean with the fact giving birth in the first place could often be fatal for the mother I couldn’t understand why a child wasn’t treasured if it was born alive, any child. But you know bloody Romans.
One person on Reddit mentioned a passionate love letter from a husband to a pregnant wife that still ended -Oh, and if it’s a girl, chuck it out the window… lovely. The Romans also didn’t give a child a name for a week or so - again, I fear this was to stop the pain of attachment if it didn’t survive, but to us now, this probably seems quite harsh and barbaric. I couldn’t imagine how hard losing a child would be. It’s been bad enough losing pets (my little furbabies), and I know when we brought our last kitten home, it took me a while to let my guard down; the fear of losing another pet kept me from opening up completely, so maybe that was just how it was back then, easier not to get attached. But I imagine even with that attitude, attachment would have formed, the bonds of motherhood are a natural effect of hormones driving women to protect their young, but again I guess being a woman any agony they faced was irrelevant.
While this is a gloomy tale today (apologies), it did give me an idea for a bit more back story for my dystopian WIP ‘When the Dust Settled’ I’ve not been working on that one, but I had to get down this idea for it. Normally, my favourite way to do this isn’t just to add a side note entry but instead write out a conversation. No details are added, just the back and forth, and I prefer making notes like this as it’s easier to flesh out later on and find the right point in the story to drop in. This one is between Silver and a guy she met topside called Dev. I don’t know yet if I'll even use this conversation or keep the style of language; I do like the use of duck as a swearword - small tunnel entries might allow for the evolution of it as a curse, but having more understanding of the world they now live in, whether the reader will ever know this or not helps me down the line.
‘Hey is Jen’ coming? Silver asked.
‘No, she’ll still knackered with the baby.’
‘Oh yeah, forgot she had one, but she’s recovered right?’
‘Yep, the new medi-centre sorted her out, great bill of health and babies about five months now too.’
‘Wow, that went fast, surprised she can’t make it tonight though, get someone to look after it.’
‘Well, she was going to, but the neighbour pissed her off, so she’s avoiding her, only one who would have helped too.’
‘What she do?’
‘Gave the baby a gift and kept asking its name.’
‘Duck, that must have been hard for Jen. Why the hell would she do that?’
‘Old Worlder mentality, but apparently still can’t wrap her head around that it’s too ducking hard to get attached and lose one. Surprised the old rat survived a tunnel with that kinda of cray’
‘Maybe with the medi-centres now, it’ll change again? I kind of remember what it was like before, but it’s all fuzz.’
‘I remember well enough, but doubt with what we’ve been through it’ll change in our lifetime. Anyway, enough sad face talk, let’s get you a drink.’
Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed this snippet - now I’m back to my other WIP and the garden is calling. Have a good weekend.
One sees similar patterns in societies well into the Middle Ages. I believe you are correct in identifying high infant mortality rates as the cause. Thankfully, we have better medical care and more options to help infants to live and prosper.
Ancient literature shows us both the actual practice but also, peeking out from behind, more humane attitudes that were always there but that didn't have the opportunity to flourish.
For instance, Greek myths show the practice of exposing unwanted infants--but in those myths, it backfires every single time. The infant survives and flourishes (wish fulfillment). The people responsible for the exposure suffer as a result of it (deferred justice). Oedipus ends up killing the parents who tried to kill him (though without knowing what he was doing). Perseus accidentally kills the grandfather who tried to kill him. In both cases, the guilty parents were trying to avoid a dire fate but ended up bringing it about instead. In the end, Oedipus (who had tragic flaws of his own) suffers as well, though he ends up as a saintly figure who is forgiven by the gods at the end. However, Perseus becomes one of the very few Greek heroes not to die tragically. There are many other stories of the same type, suggesting that people knew in their hearts throwing out unwanted infants was wrong.
One notices other instances where literary outcomes vary from societal norms. The Greeks treated women as property, yet if one reads their love stories, women certainly don't sound like property. Women do things in stories they generally can't in real life (Amazons, Atalanta) and many of the goddesses are bad asses, Athena in particular.
Speaking of pets, I ran across a Roman poem written to a dead dog. I can't quote it exactly, but it was something like, "As with joy I carried you into my house, so now, with sorrow, I carry you out of it."
Literature may reveal life as it really is, but it also reveals what we want it to be.