We can work on A Day at the Games

In this assignment, you will write a fictional story describing a visit to a gladiatorial event at a Roman amphitheater. You
will write this from the perspective of a Roman spectator (male or female) visiting the games for the first time. You are
free to adopt a Roman persona with any attitude toward the games (positive, neutral, negative).
NOTE: Please view the grading rubric below for specific grading criteria and point values.
Content Requirements

  • Your story must be written from the Roman perspective. It can be written in the first or third persons. It must
    not be a descriptive essay from a modern perspective.
  • Your story must be at least 500 words. It can be longer than 500 words without a penalty.
  • Briefly describe what the amphitheater looks like at the start of your story (perhaps in conjunction with your
    character’s arrival).
  • Mention how your character found out about the games and how he/she knows what will happen at the event.
  • Include a description of at least one event for each of the three major parts of the games (morning show, lunch
    show, afternoon/evening show); be as descriptive (and accurate) as possible with the details of the events. Be
    sure to describe a specific event rather than try to describe every event that took place over the course of the
    whole day.
  • You must describe events in chronological order.
  • Your descriptions must be accurate. Accuracy will be evaluated based on the material in the narrated lecture
    presentations.
  • End your story with a brief analysis of the impression the whole day left upon your character.
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Sample Answer

The morning sun warmed my face as I approached the colossal Flavian Amphitheatre, its imposing silhouette filling the horizon. The air thrummed with anticipation, a symphony of excited voices and the rhythmic chants of street vendors selling their wares. Today was the day I would finally witness the legendary gladiatorial games, a spectacle I had only heard whispered about in hushed tones throughout my life.

My curiosity had always been piqued by the whispered tales of brave gladiators and savage beasts, of blood and glory spilling onto the arena floor. Now, standing before the amphitheater, I could feel the tremors of the looming spectacle in my very bones. It was a mixture of excitement and trepidation, a yearning to witness the raw power and drama of the games tempered by an underlying unease.

I had learned about the games through the stories of my father, a seasoned veteran who had witnessed countless battles in his years as a legionary. He spoke of the gladiators with a mixture of awe and respect, praising their courage and athleticism. He also spoke of the brutality of the games, the pain and suffering that unfolded beneath the watchful eyes of the crowd.

Full Answer Section

With a deep breath, I entered the amphitheater, joining the throngs of eager spectators pouring through the gates. The sheer size and grandeur of the arena stunned me into silence. Rows upon rows of stone seats cascaded upwards, converging on the central oval of sand that pulsed with an anticipation that mirrored my own. The air was thick with the scent of dust, sweat, and the pungent aroma of animal dung, a potent mixture that spoke volumes about the drama waiting to unfold.

The morning show began with the thrilling spectacle of the venatio, a display of animal hunts. From towering elephants and fierce lions to nimble leopards and cunning bears, a diverse array of creatures were unleashed onto the arena floor. The crowd roared their approval as the hunters, armed with spears and nets, tracked and subdued their prey. The struggle was fierce, filled with moments of both awe-inspiring strength and heartbreaking vulnerability.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the air grew heavy with anticipation. The midday was reserved for the most gruesome part of the games – the executions. Condemned prisoners, from petty thieves to political adversaries, were brought into the arena to face their deaths. The methods of execution varied, from the swift brutality of the sword to the agonizing torture of the stake. The crowd watched with morbid fascination, their faces etched with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity.

I found myself torn between the morbid fascination and the overwhelming sense of unease that gnawed at my conscience. While part of me marveled at the gladiators’ skill and the sheer spectacle of the games, another part felt a growing sense of disquiet at the casual violence and the dehumanization of the participants.

The afternoon brought the culmination of the event – the gladiatorial combats. Pairs of warriors, armed with swords, shields, and nets, entered the arena to battle to the death. Each fight was a dance of life and death, a display of raw courage and brutal efficiency. The crowd roared with excitement, their bloodlust ignited by the clash of steel and the sight of spilled blood.

As the day drew to a close and the final gladiator stood victorious, the amphitheater erupted in a thunderous roar. Yet, I left the arena with a heavy heart. The spectacle had been undeniably captivating, but the lingering images of violence and suffering left a dark stain on my soul.

The experience had been a stark reminder of the duality of human nature – the capacity for both incredible skill and brutal savagery. It was a day that would forever be etched in my memory, a day that challenged my perceptions and forced me to confront the darkest corners of the Roman world.

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