Festival Manager Charles Haynes caught up with his namesake, comedian and author Natalie Haynes, for a chat about all things classical, and what we can look forward to at the festival...
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Comedian and author Natalie Haynes |
Natalie: I think plenty of Classical authors go unread, even by me. Can't pretend I've ever ploughed through Statius for more than about a page. But authors I wish people read more of: ancient comedians. Especially Juvenal, who wrote satires (or, more probably 'scurrae' - rants) during the reign of the emperor Domitian. Juvenal is the earliest stand-up comedian we know of - read his satires (the Penguin translation is very good) and you can see all the techniques stand-ups still use today - rule of three, bathos, alliteration, hyperbole, litotes, the lot. He is, I should warn you sexist, racist, homophobic and generally a dreadful person. But try to forgive him these sins, as he is immensely, scabrously funny, and pre-dates political correctness by about 1900 years, so deserves a little latitude. He is also so vile about dinner parties, rich people, the banes of city living and more that he feels painfully current.
Charles: Do you think that Juvenal has informed your own modern sense of humour?
Natalie: Oh sure. I owe it all to Juvenal. Actually, that might be true, even if I am more socially liberal than Juvenal. But Juvenal has the perfect comedian's perspective: he is always an outsider, watching society function (not always in a way he appreciates), and criticising it. He is observational, like most stand-up now, with a tendency to go for exaggeration to drive the laugh from the observation. He also uses a tactic I loved to use when I was doing stand-up - setting up a situation which seems funny, and then suddenly turning serious. He does a brilliant one on the perils of poor housing in Rome - he talks about how the tenant at the top is protected from the weather only by roof tiles. Then he starts worrying about fires, and how they always begin at the ground level, and the lower-dwelling (richer) tenants are getting their stuff out of the building before the guy at the top even knows he's in danger. Suddenly, says Juvenal, you're on fire, but tu nescis - you don't know it. It's a really shocking jolt - I never get tired of seeing comedians mix humour and seriousness.
Charles: If Juvenal was around today, what kind of event do you think he'd be doing at Cheltenham this year?
Natalie: Juvenal at Cheltenham? Are you trying to get sacked? Well, ok, if you insist. Juvenal would have no fun at Cheltenham. Very tricky to work out who he could hang out with without getting into trouble. His first satire is all about how it is harder not to write satire given how awful everything is. And the very worst thing he can think of? Poets reciting their work at him. So let's count him out of a performance poetry event. And then there's his relationship with other (non-poet) writers. Juvenal puts his words into a friend's mouth in one satire. His friend explains that one reason why he's so unpopular in Rome is that he can't ever bring himself to be nice about his patron's awful books. 'I never learnt how to lie,' says Umbricius. 'If a book is bad, I can't praise it and ask for a copy.' Definitely ill-prepared for dealing with other neurotic writers…
Charles: If you could go back to Ancient Rome , what do you think you'd be doing?
Natalie: If I could go back in time to Ancient Rome, I hope against hope that I am rich there. Being poor at pretty much any point in history really sucks, I'd like to be a wayward daughter of a senator, I think (exactly the kind of woman Juvenal hates so much in Satire 6, actually, for being over-educated, low-moraled and dreadful). I imagine I would read lots of Euripides and Aristophanes and Plato, having been taught to read Greek by some handsome tutor, and scandalise the neighbours. I would skip the Games (don't fancy all those gladiator battles and wild animal hunts), and I would holiday in Baiae. I might also solve the odd crime, since that always looks fun in historical novels.
Charles: Ultimately, which do you think is stronger, tragedy or comedy?
Natalie: Tragedy is stronger. I love comedy, made my living at it for a decade (and still can't resist a cheap gag now), but my heart is with tragedy. I think there's a reason why Greek tragedy is performed so often even now, 2500 years after it was written. It's because it speaks to universal truths about people. Comedy is often dependent on a working knowledge of the butts of jokes for them to be funny (imagine trying to explain a joke about David Cameron, say, to someone who didn't know who was the Prime Minister of the UK. Or, harder still, who didn't care). Comedy like Juvenal, which is a furious lament about the state of the world he lived in, travels through time a little better (he could be Tony Hancock speaking sometimes, or indeed Bill Hicks). But tragedy needs no context - we all understand why Oedipus' story is a terrible one. Find out more about Natalie's events in Cheltenham on the festival website
Natalie's newest book, The Ancient Guide To Modern Life, published by Profile Books, is available now. Find out more on Natalie's website
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