Ancient & modern
A BLIND clergyman has opened a restaurant in Zurich, staffed by the blind and operating in total darkness, to help the sighted realise what it is like to be blind. The Roman emperor Domitian (AD 51-96) would have applauded the concept, though his aim was slightly different — to make his top civil servants and senators realise what it was like to be dead.
The historian Cassius Dio (c. AD 150-235) reports the occasion. Domitian had a room painted pitch-black and fur- nished it with bare couches of the same colour. Guests came at night, without their attendants. Beside each of them was set a slab shaped like a gravestone. The food was served by beautiful boys, quite naked and painted black, too. They entered like phantoms, encircled the guests in a terrifying dance and then took up their positions by their feet. Here they served the guests with black food, from black dishes — the food consisting of things that were commonly offered at sacrifices to departed spirits. The meal was conducted in total silence, as if the participants were already in the realms of the dead, with the exception of Domitian who conversed on topics relating to death and slaughter. Domitian laid on this funeral dinner immediately after he had crushed a revolt, and no doubt its purpose was to remind Rome's top men of who was in charge. There was something of the night about Domitian. He laid on din- ners for the populace during the night, and even animal fights and gladiatorial combats, which had to be lit by torches. At the beginning of his reign as emperor he was said to spend long periods closet- ed on his own, doing nothing but catch- ing flies and impaling them on a very sharp writing implement.
The instigator of the Zurich restau- rant reported of the experience: 'The sighted guests said it made them con- centrate on the food and made them listen to the conversation around them. There could be no distraction, only intense concentration.' One rather imagines Domitian's guests experienced the same sort of reaction, with a good deal of sweating thrown in. Perhaps M. Gerbeau should lay on such a dinner- party for Lord Falconer and his chums to celebrate the last night at the Dome.
Peter Jones
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