Sphinx

You’re going to go far? Well, no. I have long since resigned myself to the fact that I am not suddenly going to embark on the sort of media career that allows one to produce a calendar of swimsuit shots in exotic filming locations or be interviewed for a weekend supplement about my favourite recipes or (sob) get invited onto Strictly Come Dancing or Desert Island Discs. Am an attendant lord, fit to sneak onto the occasional In Our Time when everyone else is busy.

But I remain wholly susceptible to the thought that someone in the Real World has actually noticed me, and that I might get to do something that friends and relatives might stumble across, and so I am a very easy mark for anyone wanting some free research. In fact, my willingness to ramble on about different aspects of ancient history at the drop of a hat is an even bigger weakness; I’ve just recalled that I spent half an hour last week writing a reply to a random stranger who’d sent me an email with some questions about Pericles. A production company wouldn’t need to dangle the carrot of a brief screen appearance with their celebrity presenter, they’d just have to pose as an ordinary person and express an interest in my thoughts. Because if they do mention that they’re a production company, I have now taken on board the need to insist on proper remuneration for providing expertise, less for my own sake than for the sake of those who need to make a living out of this. However much it makes me deeply uncomfortable having to broach the subject of money.

And I am very glad that I did – yes, let this be a lesson to me – because I’ve now had an email to say that the interview I recorded last year will not be used after all. If I had taken half a day to travel to the location, having previously spent time talking, exchanging emails and doing some extra research, without any sort of fee, and then been cut, I’d be deeply pissed off.

As it is, I’m simply miffed – and busy speculating about an explanation that is less depressing than “you’re ugly and tedious”. The stated reason was that they “simply have too much great material”. Not impossible, but a little odd; one assumes that they asked me questions that needed answering for the purposes of the programme, so did they ask someone else the same questions and go with whoever was more decorative?

Or, whoever gave them the answers they wanted – the topic was the life of an enslaved woman under the Roman Empire, and I was determined not to let them sugar-coat it. I mean, they didn’t tell me not to talk about sexual exploitation and the threat of violence… But perhaps they then decided to get someone to offer a less negative view – or, they’ve given all the material they got from me to the presenter, so they can pretty it up a bit without having to worry about awkward academics. Or, they’ve decided that this is too much of a minefield, and will be focusing on the more cheerful aspects of Roman imperialism…

Which would be a shame, as I really could see the potential in their idea, if done properly. True, there is (and was at the time) the fear that they could have edited my contribution so as to appear to support a version of Roman enslavement that would have called down a storm of condemnation. But, hey, getting cancelled by a bunch of woke SJWs seems to be the only route left to me for a career as a public intellectual, so it could still have been my break-out moment…