#fufluns

Etruscan bronze mirror, ca. 350-325 BC. Found in Chiusi Sienna. British Museum:

Areatha (Ariadne), Fufluns (Dionysos), Semla (Semele), while and a satyr named Sime

So yesterday I went to the Etruscan necropolis at Baratti in Italy and… it was absolutely beautiful. Through picked clean by grave robbers before being properly excavated by archeologists, the Necropolis still stands in solemn, ancient beauty.

Meant for the ancient Etruscan city of Fufluna (later Pupluna, then latinized to Populonia), the Necropolis is where the dead of the city were kept and buried. Massive tombs dedicated to powerful families, surrounded by smaller sarcophagi, all (save a few smaller items) were made of local limestone and built without mortar.

The city was originally named after the Etruscan deity of Fufluns- often equated to the Greek Dionysos or the Roman Bacchus, and the city was likely named this for the vineyards.

We were allowed to enter the largest of the tombs- known as the Tomb of the Chariots (Tomba dei Carri)- and you can see that these massive tombs were created prior to the technology to make a proper dome (they’ve seen dated as far back as 7th Century BCE). Instead, rocks were carefully stacked atop one another to create an illusory dome- which you can see being built up in the corners. Unfortunately, this dome was partially compromised due to grave robbers in the past, so the archeological staff at the site have since reconstructed it (which you can see in the black portion at the top in the video).

As an ancient art history nerd, I was absolutely blown away by this site. Though it may seem humble and maybe not as cool as something like the temples in Sicily or the Colosseum in Rome, this site predates them by hundreds of years. To walk through- touch- see- interact with- something so ancient was absolutely breath taking. These people were living and breathing and waking around, honoring their dead and burying their loved ones alongside beautifully crafted grave goods and precious objects.

When in sites like this I always find myself wondering what these people were thinking. Did they wander this as I did, placing their hands upon the stone and praying for those who had passed on? Did they enter the small temple at the foot of the hill and leave offerings? What did they wear? Did they too come to this place despite the heat of the sun and the biting bugs? Did they contemplate their future as I contemplate their past?

Some pictures of bronze hand-mirros from the Etruscan exhibit at the Penn Museum last summer!

Picture 1, middle: the Tiniasclenar (Greek Dioskouroi). Right, cut off: Urste (Orestes) with Aplu (Apollo), Metva, and Vanth.

Bacchus can take one sip of wine and tell me where exactly the grapes came from, even the shittier stuff. It’s the best when the grapes came from multiple places. The face he makes is hilarious. Once, he got an impossibly soft look on his face, and told me quietly, “I planted this one. I didn’t think anyone still grew grapes in that part of the world.”

He’s a giggly drunk, and is more than happy to dish the dirt on any deity but himself. He talks about the Heights like they were his home and not where he actually came from. He helps me with writer’s block and definitely inspired a couple of the characters they run into. My apartment is always covered in vines after. He leaves grapes in my freezer.

“I still regret Hestia giving up her seat for me,” he told me one night. It was late, so late that Aurora was about to get up. “I don’t think I deserved it. I still don’t.”

I poured him another glass from the fourth kind. He thought about it, then nodded. “Yeah, definitely West Virginia.”

I looked at the bottle. “This says Southern Italy.”