Cleopatra's nose
Women are more than just their bodies. Following International Women's Day, Stanley Borg sniffs out a 2,000-year-old nose that points in the right direction.
Only someone wearing a foggy pair of beer goggles could insist on placing bets that Cleopatra was as beautiful as Elizabeth Taylor. In fact, she looked more like Barbra Streisand's distant cousin. This, in case you are wondering, is not a compliment at all.
Some time before last Valentine's Day, a Roman denarius was exhibited at the archaeological museum at Newcastle University and soon found its way on the Today programme, and most of the British media. The reason was that, with one flash of ancient silver, the well-preserved coin busted the myth that Cleopatra, as it has always been argued, was the second most beautiful woman in the classical world.
For centuries, Cleopatra has been a fabled beauty who captured popular imagination. Chaucer, who in The Legend of Good Women, wrote that, "she was fair as is the rose in May", Shakespeare, innumerable painters, and Hollywood did their best to romanticise and portray the Egyptian queen as a great beauty. Historical accounts did not hold their horses, and dribbled at the mouth at fantasies of Cleopatra's looks and how she seduced Caesar by going commando and entertaining him dressed only in a rare Persian carpet.
Yet far from this mythical beauty, the Newcastle University denarius, which was coined in Antony's own mint to mark his victories in Armenia in 32BC, shows a middle-aged woman with thin lips, a strong, ugly chin and a nose which is so long and pointed that it could very well have been used as a murder weapon.
So, if she were this ugly, how did Cleopatra manage to bed Caesar and woo Antony away from his wife?
The thing is that it is only recent, male-dominated history that pits Cleopatra as a catwalk queen seductress with thick lashes and perfect eyeliner. Older texts focus on her intelligence and charisma. Arab writers also describe Cleopatra's court as a haven for intellectual debate rather than a swanky, bachelorette-styled spread with lashings of animal skins and massage oils on demand.
Also, no one is sure about what ancient world conventions were involved in the portrayal of a powerful woman. In fact, the earliest representations of Cleopatra show her as a man.
And anyway, Antony was not what you would call a looker. You only need to flip the coin to be faced with the Roman sporting a honker of a nose, bulging eyes and a complexion which looks like it is in dire need of a rejuvenating mud pack from the Nile. Is this the general who commanded the Roman army in the East and who presented himself as divine in the guise of Dionysus and Osiris?
The thing is, none of this should be of any importance. Why must a powerful woman, or indeed any woman, live up to the assumption that she should be beautiful while men can get away with cosmetic murder?
For centuries, women have carried the burden of living up to being the "fair sex". Presumably, it was not a woman who coined this label but rather, a man who came up with such a generalisation. Instead of seeing them as millions of individuals, men saw the opposite sex as an odd being who must be controlled. Menstruation was a disease and childhood a burden, or at best, a mystery. Infertility was always women's fault. And their only value in life was to sit pretty in the corner, away from the limelight or behind a man.
And women were expected to go to great lengths to adhere to this "fair sex" label. The ideal woman figure went from stick-thin to plump and back to stringy according to male preferences. In Victorian times, ladies had to wear corsets that prevented them from breathing. The sale of smelling salts soared. In Africa women lengthened their necks with hoops and stretched their lower lips with what looked like soup plates. And we all know the story of Chinese women's feet.
The "fair sex" label also suggested that women were weak, physically and mentally. They could not be trusted with a voting document or a driving licence and were shouted down whenever they dared raise their voice against gender pay gap and career segregation. They needed guidance, and were given housekeeping manuals, self-help books and miles of advice which nonetheless were all useless to prevent bosses taking one look at a pregnant employee and replacing her with someone less likely to harbour a penchant for increasing the world's population.
Ah, you say, but feminism is such an old word that has long gone out of fashion. Maybe. Feminism, as a word, ranks up there with the Raleigh Chopper and Happy Days as a reminder of past days when restaurants had shrimp cocktails on their menu and a bunch of crazy women with moustaches and hairy armpits burned their bras to change the world.
The term "feminist" has been loaded with so many negative connotations of man-hating and unshaved legs that, nowadays, no one in their right mind would call themselves a feminist. In short, the word has become extinct, mostly because feminism is wrongly associated with an Amazonian-ruled planet where men are banished underground, rather than with equality.
Yet the forces which gave rise to feminism are still in circulation. The old-boy network still has more shares in higher ranks. This is achieved by discrimination against women, preventing them from breaking through the glass ceiling and keeping them penned in in poorer-paid sectors. And women are still on the losing end in the family and career conundrum. Incidentally, there are still men who, during discussion programmes, insist that a woman's place is in the kitchen. If they do not stay at home, then they are blamed for the breakdown of the traditional family values. The other extreme expects women to multi-task and play too many roles to have it all - the job, family, children, self-sufficiency and independence.
All this is reflected in the media which presents us with statistics that, by showing how women make better teachers but are not that good for starting a business, keep women out of jobs that have always been traditionally done by men. Not to mention soap operas that revel in the clichéd scenes of the male boss with the female secretary or the husband with a career and the wife who stays at home to take care of the kids.
And women are still seen as beautiful objects; collectors' items which, if chipped or not exactly kind on the eye, are put aside. Models with legs that stretch to the horizon are still used to sell cars, bath salts and ice creams. We still get cellulite tips in lifestyle magazines and size zero, which for me means that a person is thinner than air and therefore does not exist, is glamorised. As to porn, that ultimate objectification of a woman's body, you only need to spend half an hour on the internet for a pop-up to tell you that right up your street, there is a desperate housewife who is "up for anything".
Despite feminism, sexism is still on the agenda. Of course, we have made some progress. Mother as the predominant carer with father the predominant earner pattern had to adapt to the fact that women are entering employment in greater numbers. According to Eurostat, until June of last year, 13 per cent of Maltese women aged 25-59 held a university degree, almost one percentage point more than men, who stand at 12.1 per cent.
Gender mainstreaming has also been put on the agenda. The Equality for Men and Women Act challenges attitudes about what work women and men should do; penalties have been introduced against sexual discrimination and harassment and family-friendly measures have been put forward.
Nonetheless, we still idealise the female body and use physical attributes, and the lack of, as a measuring stick for a woman's ability.
Yet in much the same way that not all men are the stuff of Men's Health cover shoots, so all women are not entrants in beauty contests, where they parade in bikinis and vow that their dream is to save the world. The truth is that women have talents other than domestic and maternal which they must be allowed to cultivate. Capable people should be allowed to prosper, regardless of their sex.
A body imperfect should not be the end of a woman's world. Just look at Cleopatra, that Reginae Regum Filiorumque Regum (Queen of Kings and the Children of Kings). She may have had a hooked nose, but she can still make the news.
Some time before last Valentine's Day, a Roman denarius was exhibited at the archaeological museum at Newcastle University and soon found its way on the Today programme, and most of the British media. The reason was that, with one flash of ancient silver, the well-preserved coin busted the myth that Cleopatra, as it has always been argued, was the second most beautiful woman in the classical world.
For centuries, Cleopatra has been a fabled beauty who captured popular imagination. Chaucer, who in The Legend of Good Women, wrote that, "she was fair as is the rose in May", Shakespeare, innumerable painters, and Hollywood did their best to romanticise and portray the Egyptian queen as a great beauty. Historical accounts did not hold their horses, and dribbled at the mouth at fantasies of Cleopatra's looks and how she seduced Caesar by going commando and entertaining him dressed only in a rare Persian carpet.
Yet far from this mythical beauty, the Newcastle University denarius, which was coined in Antony's own mint to mark his victories in Armenia in 32BC, shows a middle-aged woman with thin lips, a strong, ugly chin and a nose which is so long and pointed that it could very well have been used as a murder weapon.
So, if she were this ugly, how did Cleopatra manage to bed Caesar and woo Antony away from his wife?
The thing is that it is only recent, male-dominated history that pits Cleopatra as a catwalk queen seductress with thick lashes and perfect eyeliner. Older texts focus on her intelligence and charisma. Arab writers also describe Cleopatra's court as a haven for intellectual debate rather than a swanky, bachelorette-styled spread with lashings of animal skins and massage oils on demand.
Also, no one is sure about what ancient world conventions were involved in the portrayal of a powerful woman. In fact, the earliest representations of Cleopatra show her as a man.
And anyway, Antony was not what you would call a looker. You only need to flip the coin to be faced with the Roman sporting a honker of a nose, bulging eyes and a complexion which looks like it is in dire need of a rejuvenating mud pack from the Nile. Is this the general who commanded the Roman army in the East and who presented himself as divine in the guise of Dionysus and Osiris?
The thing is, none of this should be of any importance. Why must a powerful woman, or indeed any woman, live up to the assumption that she should be beautiful while men can get away with cosmetic murder?
For centuries, women have carried the burden of living up to being the "fair sex". Presumably, it was not a woman who coined this label but rather, a man who came up with such a generalisation. Instead of seeing them as millions of individuals, men saw the opposite sex as an odd being who must be controlled. Menstruation was a disease and childhood a burden, or at best, a mystery. Infertility was always women's fault. And their only value in life was to sit pretty in the corner, away from the limelight or behind a man.
And women were expected to go to great lengths to adhere to this "fair sex" label. The ideal woman figure went from stick-thin to plump and back to stringy according to male preferences. In Victorian times, ladies had to wear corsets that prevented them from breathing. The sale of smelling salts soared. In Africa women lengthened their necks with hoops and stretched their lower lips with what looked like soup plates. And we all know the story of Chinese women's feet.
The "fair sex" label also suggested that women were weak, physically and mentally. They could not be trusted with a voting document or a driving licence and were shouted down whenever they dared raise their voice against gender pay gap and career segregation. They needed guidance, and were given housekeeping manuals, self-help books and miles of advice which nonetheless were all useless to prevent bosses taking one look at a pregnant employee and replacing her with someone less likely to harbour a penchant for increasing the world's population.
Ah, you say, but feminism is such an old word that has long gone out of fashion. Maybe. Feminism, as a word, ranks up there with the Raleigh Chopper and Happy Days as a reminder of past days when restaurants had shrimp cocktails on their menu and a bunch of crazy women with moustaches and hairy armpits burned their bras to change the world.
The term "feminist" has been loaded with so many negative connotations of man-hating and unshaved legs that, nowadays, no one in their right mind would call themselves a feminist. In short, the word has become extinct, mostly because feminism is wrongly associated with an Amazonian-ruled planet where men are banished underground, rather than with equality.
Yet the forces which gave rise to feminism are still in circulation. The old-boy network still has more shares in higher ranks. This is achieved by discrimination against women, preventing them from breaking through the glass ceiling and keeping them penned in in poorer-paid sectors. And women are still on the losing end in the family and career conundrum. Incidentally, there are still men who, during discussion programmes, insist that a woman's place is in the kitchen. If they do not stay at home, then they are blamed for the breakdown of the traditional family values. The other extreme expects women to multi-task and play too many roles to have it all - the job, family, children, self-sufficiency and independence.
All this is reflected in the media which presents us with statistics that, by showing how women make better teachers but are not that good for starting a business, keep women out of jobs that have always been traditionally done by men. Not to mention soap operas that revel in the clichéd scenes of the male boss with the female secretary or the husband with a career and the wife who stays at home to take care of the kids.
And women are still seen as beautiful objects; collectors' items which, if chipped or not exactly kind on the eye, are put aside. Models with legs that stretch to the horizon are still used to sell cars, bath salts and ice creams. We still get cellulite tips in lifestyle magazines and size zero, which for me means that a person is thinner than air and therefore does not exist, is glamorised. As to porn, that ultimate objectification of a woman's body, you only need to spend half an hour on the internet for a pop-up to tell you that right up your street, there is a desperate housewife who is "up for anything".
Despite feminism, sexism is still on the agenda. Of course, we have made some progress. Mother as the predominant carer with father the predominant earner pattern had to adapt to the fact that women are entering employment in greater numbers. According to Eurostat, until June of last year, 13 per cent of Maltese women aged 25-59 held a university degree, almost one percentage point more than men, who stand at 12.1 per cent.
Gender mainstreaming has also been put on the agenda. The Equality for Men and Women Act challenges attitudes about what work women and men should do; penalties have been introduced against sexual discrimination and harassment and family-friendly measures have been put forward.
Nonetheless, we still idealise the female body and use physical attributes, and the lack of, as a measuring stick for a woman's ability.
Yet in much the same way that not all men are the stuff of Men's Health cover shoots, so all women are not entrants in beauty contests, where they parade in bikinis and vow that their dream is to save the world. The truth is that women have talents other than domestic and maternal which they must be allowed to cultivate. Capable people should be allowed to prosper, regardless of their sex.
A body imperfect should not be the end of a woman's world. Just look at Cleopatra, that Reginae Regum Filiorumque Regum (Queen of Kings and the Children of Kings). She may have had a hooked nose, but she can still make the news.