Trier Part IV – The Amphitheater
I would be remiss in a series on Trier if I didn’t mention the Amphitheater. Seriously, this series could be really long as there are historical buildings and ruins all over the city. But I’ll finish with the arena. If I ever get the chance to see the Colosseum in Rome, I’ll jump at it because the one in Trier was a teaser.
It is, unfortunately, actual ruins and the seating was torn out during the Middle Ages for other construction, leaving behind grassy slopes that hint at the indentation of the tiered seating. The area is big enough to house around twenty thousand spectators.
Although the structure isn’t fully there, the feel and idea of the place still is. We were able to walk down into the cellar below the arena floor and see the lift technology the Romans used to change obstacles and scenery in the arena. The drainage system still drains mountain water and precipitation all year round. The cells, or carcer, still stand where the cages for animals surrounded the sands.
I stood in the middle of the arena and let my imagination run. Movies like Gladiator definitely gave me something to build off of but it’s different standing on the ground where they actually fought. It brings a quote to mind, one I’ve mentioned before but I don’t think I’ve actually posted in whole. It’s called Man in the Area, and was part of a speech given by Theodore Roosevelt:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
Although I could picture stories and scenes while standing on the sand in the amphitheater, envision the dented swords and throwing nets, the angry lions and bloodied slaves, contrasting strongly with the plays and the religious festivals also held there, this stuck with me more.
The day was warm, but I knew it could be hot, unbearably so until the sweat would trickle down my temples and spine. Visitors’ voices echoed, both subdued and carrying, due to the acrostics that work despite the place being in ruins.
I felt small.
It struck me that this is true many times when I strive for something. The environment feels against me and sweat will trickle with my effort. Noise will attempt to distract me. And overall, I’ll feel small as I strive to achieve something.
Every time I write a novel, I’m in the arena. It tests me. It’s uncomfortable and I’m easily distracted. I never feel up to the task. But time and again I find the effort worth the toil. For the Gladiators, sadly, the reward was death or survival and not much in between. For us, it’s different. Even if we don’t achieve the heights we want, we can still walk away knowing we tried. The sweat and dust and blood are our victory regardless of the outcome.
Right now, I’m working on Hidden Mythics III. That’s my arena. What’s yours?
Blessings,
Jennifer
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