A stroppy pre-teen in Roman Egypt

Some of our best evidence for everyday life in the Roman Empire comes not from Italy or even Europe, but from Egypt. Thanks in no small part due to the conditions there, we have an amazing cache of organic material that still survives which includes, among many other things, papyri.

As a result, we are able to read real-world documents to understand ‘normal life’, as opposed to relying on highly crafted pieces of literature. These documents include tax returns, receipts, legal documents, complaints to local officials, census returns – which allows us to understand living arrangements and local demography – and more besides.

But perhaps the most interesting form of evidence comes from personal letters which survive. These offer us a snapshot of personal relationships, of the highs and lows of life in Roman Egypt. Some of them offer insight into the real-world experiences of ancient people, others highlight the stark and harsh reality of the Roman world. But some of my favourites are those that show how life has not always changed as much as we think in the interceding 2,000 years.

The letter that survives today. See the first 4 letters at the start of the letter: ΘΕⲰΝ, which spells Theon. Bodelian Library, University of Oxford.

Take this letter (2nd-3rd century CE), for instance, found at the site of Oxyrhynchus, between a young boy and his father. The boy, Theon, is writing to express his utter disgust (the sarcasm just oozes from the page!) at his father’s decision to head north to the big city of Alexandria without him (translation from P. Oxy. 1 119):

Theon to his father Theon, greetings. A nice thing to do, not taking me with you to the city. If you refuse to take me with you to Alexandria, I shall not write you a letter or speak to you or wish you good health. So: if you go to Alexandria I shall not take your hand or greet you ever again. If you refuse to take me, this is what happens. And my mother said to Archelaos, “He’s upsetting me, take him away!” A nice thing to do, sending me these grand presents, a hill of beans. They put us off the track that day, the 12th, when you sailed. Well then, send for me, I beg you. If you don’t send for me, I shan’t eat, I shan’t drink. There! I pray for your health. [Address] Deliver to Theon from Theonas his son.

The young Theon does not give his age, but the fact that he is literate yet unable to travel on his own suggests that he was around the age of 10-13. The young age is also emphasised at the end of the letter, when he signs off with his pet name: Theonas. With this in mind, we see some very familiar behaviours in our ancient pre-teen.

The latent sarcasm that runs though the letter, along with the correct formalities of the letter (the greeting and the sign off all follow correct protocols) would perhaps allow us to mistake this for an older writer. But his dismissal of previous gifts sent to him, and the threats he offers if he does not get his way are as petulant as they come – he will not speak to his Dad again, he is already upsetting his mother, and he will stop eating or drinking.

It seems stroppy, hormonal young people have been the cause of many a parental eye-roll over the millennia! Hopefully he got to visit the big city when he was older.