We have only fragments of The Satyricon by Titus Petronius (AD 27–66). The centerpiece of the narrative that survives is the so-called “Cena Trimalchionis,” the banquet of Trimalchio in which a dazzling array of exotic foods and rare wines are paraded before a handful of gratefully stupefied guests. While the host of this feast was the aforementioned Trimalchio, the narrator was a young buck called Encolpius. He is appropriately amazed by the delicacies and potations that appear one after the next before him.

The Satyricon is a work of satire (Menippean satire for those keeping track). The antics recounted are recited partly tongue in cheek. Everything is turned up to eleven. The point is parody. I’d say Federico Fellini captured the excesses more than the satire in his 1969 film taking off from the book. F. Scott Fitzgerald should thank his editors: they convinced him to change his title Trimalchio in West Egg to The Great Gatsby, much better (though it’s nice knowing what Fitzgerald had in the back of his mind).

The ‘drink window’ for the wine was 2024-2064. That saddened me. I had better get going

The ‘drink window’ for the wine was 2024-2064. That saddened me. I had better get going

Just as caricature, in exaggerating, reveals something essential about its subject,........

© The Spectator