Rome, a city of layers, is a captivating place that draws you in with its rich history and captivating stories. This ancient city is a testament to time, showcasing the remnants of empires and the traces of forgotten lives. As I explore its streets and uncover hidden gems, I am struck by the layers of memory, both cherished and discarded, that form the fabric of Rome’s identity.
A City’s Memory: Remembering and Forgetting
I’ve been captivated by Rome’s charm since starting my fellowship at the British School at Rome (BSR). My days are filled with walking through its historic center, visiting churches and museums, and discovering remnants of the medieval city. It’s a quest to understand the city’s soul, to grasp the essence of what makes it tick.
Rome is a palimpsest, a canvas layered with memories. Each layer, like a parchment rewritten countless times, tells a tale of the city’s evolution. Just as Freud used Rome’s layered structure to explain human memory, we see the layers of history unfold before our eyes. Unlike other European cities, these layers are exposed, palpable, and visible to anyone willing to look.
Erasing Existence: The Power of Oblivion
My colleagues at the BSR, Drs. Charlotte Mann and Ellen O’Gorman, revealed a profound truth about ancient Rome: “damnatio memoriae,” the obliteration of memory, was the ultimate punishment. This act of silencing, reserved for traitors and enemies, aimed to erase an individual’s existence from the world.
The concept of “damnatio memoriae” seems to have seeped into the very fabric of Rome. Throughout the city, if you know where to look, you’ll find walls adorned with memories and plaques, each telling a story. Some celebrate Roman imperial triumphs, others mark devastating floods or tragic events. One plaque, dated 1723, even begs locals to refrain from turning the street into a “dunghill or muck heap.”
Architectural Relics: Echoes of the Past
Architecture itself serves as a memorial in Rome. Remnants of gateposts from the Jewish ghetto stand as silent reminders of the past. Ancient Roman monuments, reused as building materials for homes and churches, speak to the classical aspirations of their medieval owners. Even the streets and parks are choked with statues and buildings inscribed with deeds of past owners, both real and imagined.
A City in Constant Reinvention: Remembering What Suits Us
This constant reinvention continues today. Dr. Luca Peretti, an associate fellow at the BSR, guided us through the Jewish quarter, pointing out “Stolpersteines,” brass cobblestones that mark the homes of Holocaust victims. This project, originating in Germany, serves as a poignant reminder of the atrocities of the past.
This leads us to a crucial question: in a city so continuously inhabited, who decides what is worthy of remembrance and what we have the right to forget? The answer is complex. Throughout its history, Romans have ruthlessly reshaped their city, embracing memories that served their purposes and erasing those that didn’t.
From Hadrianic Villa to Fascist Erasure: A City Undergoing Transformation
One site we visited showcased this cycle of reinvention. A Hadrianic villa was demolished to make way for a Severan army barracks, only to be replaced by a Constantine cathedral, which itself underwent extensive renovations in the late 17th century. Each layer, visible to those who know where to look, testifies to the city’s constant transformation.
The Fascist regime of the 1930s took this process of reimagining Rome to new extremes. They cleared acres of medieval and post-medieval structures in central Rome, creating processional routes and “restoring” classical monuments. By erasing centuries of subsequent inhabitation, they sought to align themselves with the great rulers of Rome’s past, creating a narrative of continuity and imperial grandeur.
The Burden of History: A Question of Memory and Erasure
While we may be appalled by the Fascist regime’s actions, we must ask ourselves if future historians will view our own time with the same level of judgment. We too selectively choose which aspects of history we wish to remember, often favoring those that align with our current values and perspectives.
A Cautious Approach to Preservation: Striking a Balance Between Past and Present
In the aftermath of World War II, Italy adopted a more cautious approach to development. Alessandro Alici, an Italian architect and academic, shared with me the postwar restrictions, only recently eased, on building at historic sites. For decades, new construction in central Rome was severely limited.
While my emotional instincts tell me this cautious approach is best – preserving the city’s soul and ensuring it doesn’t become a mere tourist attraction – the pragmatist within me recognizes the challenges it poses. This approach risks pushing modern life to the fringes, potentially “disneyfying” the city and hollowing it out.
The Challenge of Remembering and Forgetting: Finding the Right Balance
There are no easy answers. To preserve the city’s history and honor its memories is vital, but it’s equally important to allow ourselves to forget certain things. This is crucial for making space for our own age, for shaping the future. However, the question remains: who decides what we are allowed to forget, and on what basis?
Rome’s story is a complex tapestry woven from threads of memory and oblivion. It serves as a powerful reminder that the act of remembering is not simply about preserving the past; it is also about shaping the future. As we grapple with the legacy of our own history, Rome’s layered past offers us a powerful lens through which to explore the delicate dance between remembering and forgetting.
