I read once that Rome had a population of 1 million at its height (wikipedia reports 3.5 million as the high estimate). If you took every story set in the city, you could probably account for every citizen in the republic at its height. How many new citizens walk through words each year to the fulcrum of the Western mythos? If turned Cesear into al the manifestations of him he would be schizophreniac. And note that Cesear is present tense. We, in many ways, contain the etthnic Roman inside us, the myth perpuates the way we regulate our identities, but is this obsession mostly an American past time?
Is the use of history incredibly male?
Is the identity that history produces a strange worm inside us? Is history’s overt masculinity disclude the feminite? Is feminity produced by a different means than history? Does feminity therefore arise from a differing place?
If we check the citizens on time bridge’s those waiting their turn to be gobbled into history, it is primarily male. Women though are very visible in roman literature and especially in our casts back to that time. Women are certainly in line for the republic, but they arrive passengers in another’s vechile.
History is a great fiction. One of several memories we carry around communally. A city being rendered by the collective imaginaion in random spurts and bursts. But its archecture rattles through society unevenly, unable to conjure equality. History is perhaps the most permeble on the precepts that form ethnicity, but when accepted as is, it feels like the most ancient of things.