Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Cithara: Music vs. Madness Myth
Transcript
- Lucas: So we’ve talked a lot about Nero's politics, his building projects, the fire. But one thing that keeps coming up in the sources is his obsession with music—specifically, the cithara. It was a large, seven-stringed lyre, not the little handheld thing you imagine. And for a Roman emperor, this was a huge deal. Luna: Wait, why? Plenty of Romans played instruments. Lucas: True, but not on stage. The cithara was associated with professional performers—often Greeks, often of low social status. For an emperor to perform publicly, in Greek style, was considered deeply undignified. Suetonius and Cassius Dio both mock Nero for it. But here's the thing: Nero didn't care. He actually believed he had genuine talent. Lucas: He started performing in private for small audiences, then moved to the public stage during the Neronia, the festival he founded in 60 AD. Later, during his tour of Greece in 67 AD, he competed in every major musical contest: the Pythian Games, the Isthmian, the Olympic—he even won them all, though some were rigged. Luna: He actually won? By talent or bribery? Lucas: A mix. The judges were terrified of him, but also, some Greeks genuinely admired him. He spoke fluent Greek, he respected their culture. In fact, when he performed at the Pythian Games, he personally swept the floor of the stage—an act of humility that shocked the audience. The Greeks loved him for it. Lucas: Now, his critics—especially later Roman historians—used his music to paint him as frivolous, as a man who neglected his duties. The famous image of Nero 'fiddling while Rome burned' comes from this, though the instrument was a cithara, not a fiddle. But the real question is: was his musical ambition just vanity, or was it a calculated political move? Luna: How could singing be political? Lucas: Because it connected him to the common people. In Rome, the elite despised public performance, but the masses loved it. By performing, Nero was bypassing the senatorial class and appealing directly to the plebs. He was saying, 'I am one of you, I share your pleasures.' Lucas: There's also the philhellene angle. Nero adored Greek culture. He even gave the entire province of Achaia its freedom in 67 AD, partly as thanks for their appreciation of his art. So his music was a bridge to the Greek East, which was crucial for his Eastern policy. Remember, his Armenian settlement had just been sealed with a grand ceremony in Rome. Luna: So he wasn't just an insecure artist? He had a strategy. Lucas: Exactly. But it backfired in the long run because the Roman elite wrote the history. Suetonius and Tacitus emphasize his stage appearances as evidence of his degeneracy. They even claim he forced noble children to perform, and that he once sang for three hours during a fire. But other sources suggest he actually performed quite well. Lucas: Take his death scene: according to Suetonius, as he was about to be killed, he reportedly said, 'Qualis artifex pereo'—'What an artist dies in me.' Even in his final moment, he saw himself as a performer. That phrase has become legendary, but it also shows how central his artistic identity was to him. Luna: So he really believed he was a great artist. Lucas: He did. And he wrote poetry too—a long epic called the Troica, about the Trojan War. None of it survives, but contemporaries mention it. Nero's artistic ambitions were genuine, but they were also a liability. They made him look un-Roman, too Greek, too soft. And when the rebellion came, that image cost him support. Lucas: Interestingly, the cithara itself became a symbol of Nero's tyranny in later Christian tradition. Some early Christian writers claimed he played it while Rome burned. But modern historians have been more sympathetic. They see his musical pursuits as part of a broader attempt to reshape imperial ideology—to make the emperor a cultural figure, not just a military one. Luna: Did any other emperor try that? Lucas: Hadrian did, to some extent. He was also a philhellene and a poet. But Hadrian was more careful. Nero pushed too hard, too fast. And he paid for it. But his music wasn't just a sideshow—it was central to how he saw himself and how he wanted to be seen. Lucas: So next time you hear that phrase 'fiddling while Rome burns,' remember the cithara. It wasn't a fiddle. It was a seven-stringed lyre, and Nero thought he played it beautifully. Whether he did or not is another story. But the politics behind it? That's the real tune.