Classicist digs deep for truth about latrines, hygiene habits of ancient Romans
By Donna Desrochers
Media Relations Staff
Summer 1992 -- It began with a whisper in the bowels of the library at the American Academy in Rome. Roman scholar Nicholas Horsfall noticed Brandeis classicist Ann Olga Koloski-Ostrow browsing in the stacks and summoned her: "Latrines," he whispered. "Roman latrines.No one has done them properly."
For Koloski-Ostrow, teacher of Latin, ancient literature, Greek and Roman art, and archaeology at Brandeis for the past 15 years, a study of latrines seemed a logical extension of her earlier work. She had already published a book about an important bath building at Pompeii, The Sarno Bath Complex: Architecture in Pompeii's Last Years.
"I guess you could say my interests sank lower and lower," muses Koloski-Ostrow about the unusual research that drew her to the ancient sewers and latrines of Roman Italy.
Scholars have long believed the mere presence of sewers and public latrines in ancient Rome demonstrates an unparalleled sanitary ideal for the time. Indeed, even after the Decline, it would be centuries before Europe would return to such high levels of hygiene. But as Koloski-Ostrow learned, the latrines of the great Empire were not as pristine as originally thought. In fact, they were a health care nightmare.
"Here we had 12 to 60 people at once, going to the bathroom sitting next to each other. There were no dividers. There was no toilet paper. And there was one sponge stick for everyone to dip into the water and pass around."
In her research of the largely unstudied world of Roman latrines, Koloski-Ostrow had to dig deep and wide, sifting through medical, philosophy, and literary texts and art, and spending countless hours trudging through "some dark and unsightly places."
"There are no ancient sources where you can really learn about daily life," she says. "You have to come upon information almost by chance."
Come upon it she did, and in the process, Koloski-Ostrow unearthed important new information about Roman daily life. "The first and second centuries were tremendous steps forward in latrine culture," says Koloski-Ostrow.
"This was a time when the contents of chamber pots were being thrown out of windows or into trenches. It was dangerous to walk at night in Rome. You could be hit in the head. And civic leaders were thinking about how to stop the underclass from doing such things. So they sank their patronage and imperial money into public latrines as a way of getting filth off the streets."
The ancient Romans had other methods for dealing with human waste. Excrement was used for growing food, and urine was used for dying clothes. "People could make money from selling their urine," says Koloski-Ostrow. "Buyers would walk up and down the streets. 'Urine! Sell your urine!' they'd call out." Koloski-Ostrow says she has always been fascinated by fringe texts that shed light on such matters. And it's clear she wants to reach a broad audience. "I tried to write a book that is heavily documented to satisfy scholars, but whose prose is interesting to the lay person as well," she says.
Recipient of two Brandeis awards and a national teaching award from the American Philological Association, Koloski-Ostrow is also involved with a program designed to reinvigorate ancient Greek studies at the high school level. Her volume, Water Use and Hydraulics in the Roman City, was published in the Colloquium and Conference papers Series of the Archaeological Institute of America. She's working on another book, tentatively titled, The Archaeology of Sanitation in Roman Italy: Water, Sewers, and Latrines.