I tried to pinpoint the exact year The Simpsons episode ‘I, Carumbus’ was set using Ancient Topography
The exercise brought up more questions than answers
Let me start by saying I really liked this episode of The Simpsons. Despite the obvious comments about quite how long the show has remained on the air (this episode hails from Season 32) and the quality of writing of late, I found the world of I, Carumbus highly engaging and packed with painstaking details. I often found myself pausing the episode simply to take in the grand establishing shots and look for specific buildings — many of which I was surprised to see had been represented in all their ancient glory despite the lack of obvious ruins like the Colosseum.
Once I had finished the episode, my first thoughts obviously turned to the fact I was incredibly jealous of whoever was asked to consult on the episode. A quick IMDB search later I discovered to my delight that it was Mike Duncan of The Storm Before the Storm and The History of Rome fame. So we’re in good hands. The second thought I had was chronological in nature. Since so many of the buildings represented in the episode are faithful reconstructions of real Roman buildings, we can use the topography (the study of a built environment) of I, Carumbus’ Rome to try and pinpoint the specific year (or span of years) during which the episode is set. Much like those satisfying antique globe videos you see on TikTok.
Let’s begin with my favourite wide shot from the episode. The camera pans down after a 10-year time jump to show the valley of the Colosseum in all its ancient glory with five identifiable monuments and buildings (below).
The most obvious one, and the setting for a number of scenes in the episode, is the Colosseum or Flavian Amphitheatre. Again, I cannot fault how it is depicted in the show. Of course, it is a great help that the Colosseum is still standing for the most part. But the inclusion of little details — such as the change from Tuscan to Ionic to Corinthian topped columns for the first to the third level of arches — really blew me away.
As the name would suggest, the Amphitheatre was commissioned by the Flavian emperor Vespasian and eventually opened by his son Titus in 80 CE with 100 days of games and the slaughter of some 5,000 animals. The arena remained in use until Late Antiquity and the final mention of games being hosted dates to 523 CE. Over that period it was repaired and restored numerous times after a series of fires and earthquakes (this will come up a lot) with the most significant being after 217, 250, 320, and 429 CE. By sight alone, it is impossible to determine which particular incarnation of the Amphitheatre is depicted in the show. But we can look for more context in the other buildings.
The statue beside the Flavian Amphitheatre is the Colossus of Nero. According to Pliny, it stood at some 35m in height and, incidentally is where we get the modern name ‘Colosseum’ for the arena. Modelled upon the colossal statue in Rhodes — one of the ancient wonders of the world — it was commissioned by Emperor Nero as a self-portrait and finished in bronze (not marble, as appears in the episode). Following Nero’s death in 68 CE, the likeness of the statue was changed to that of the Helios (the sun god) and later moved by Hadrian around 135 CE to its eventual location beside the Colosseum by a gang of 24 elephants. The pose and position of the statue (and its incredible scale!) are particularly well illustrated by a famous medallion depicting the arena and its environs during the reign of Gordianus III (238–244 CE).
We are told by Cassius Dio that, during the reign of Commodus, the statue was briefly changed to depict the emperor in the guise of Hercules (think club and lion skin) before being changed back upon his assassination. The statue in the show, however, clearly shows Helios (albeit with Quimby’s head) so we can at least discount the years 190–192 CE from the running. As with most ancient bronze statues, colossal or otherwise, it was likely melted down and turned into a series of church bells. The date of its disappearance from the record is somewhat disputed. The final antique reference comes from 354 CE but it has been argued that Bede’s famous 8th-century epigram noting that “when the Colossus falls, Rome will fall” referenced the statue rather than the amphitheatre. The only sure date we have, therefore, is post-135 CE — when Hadrian moved the statue to the location depicted in the show.
The massive temple depicted on the left side of the establishing shot is what blew me away the most when paying attention to the topography of the episode. This is undoubtedly the massive Temple of Venus and Roma, a unique double cellae temple with inner atriums which faced away from one another, creating two distinct back-to-back cult spaces. We can identify it based on three factors: [1] the immense scale of the temple, [2] its location to the West of the valley of the Colosseum (with both the Colossus and the Meta Sudans fountain between itself and the Amphitheatre), and [3] the two colonnades running parallel to the temple which enclosed the overall precinct.
The temple was inaugurated by Emperor Hadrian in 135 CE, replacing the atrium of Nero’s audacious Domus Aurea and necessitating the removal of Nero’s Colossal statue to nearer the Colosseum. Is there more we can use to pinpoint another date? Well, we know that the best-preserved bits — the two back-to-back cellae — are not the originals and date to a later restoration. Coarelli is certain that the surviving apsidal design with vaulted ceilings must have dated to a restoration effort undertaken in 307 CE by Maxentius following a devastating fire. He points to the obvious architectural parallels between the Temple and the Basilica of Maxentius and Diocletian’s Curia in the Forum.
There is a problem, though, in determining exactly which iteration of the Temple of Venus and Roma is depicted in the show. Since the difference between the two periods concerns the insides of the building, we can’t tell which one is meant to be depicted in the show. All is not lost, however. The final monument depicted in this establishing shot settles the matter completely.
The triumphal arch in the bottom left of the frame is the famous Arch of Constantine, the largest surviving arch in Rome. The depiction in the show is achingly accurate in capturing the utter smorgasbord of spolia, inscriptions, and reliefs on the original (below). We know that the Arch was dedicated in 315 CE as a celebration of the Battle of the Milvian Bridge three years earlier which involved the defeat of Maxentius by Constantine. The Arch, therefore, confirms that the Temple of Venus and Roma must be the restored iteration of 307 CE and sets a new benchmark for the earliest possible date of the episode: 315 CE.
That’s pretty good going from just one establishing shot, but it is concerning that we’ve already been thrown into the fourth century CE and the age of Constantine. The heyday of the Senate and the relatively recognisable world of the Julio-Claudian and Antonine periods have been hijacked, morphed, and lost over the course of the Crisis of the Third Century. One-man rule in Rome may be experiencing a very brief new bloom but the centre of the Roman world is soon to be on the move. The foundation of Constantinople in the East, and, therefore, the further relegation of Rome’s political importance, is near on the horizon.
In this establishing shot taken from nearer the beginning of the episode we get a good look at the network of defences around Rome. The walls are vast and extend to the very edges of the city. By that fact alone we can identify them as the Aurelian Walls built in the 270s and doubled in height by Maxentius between 306 and 312 CE. The other candidate would have been the much earlier (4th-century BCE) Servian Walls quickly outgrown by the city’s burgeoning population. This establishing shot, then, is consistent with the inclusion of the Arch of Constantine in the other. Rome is under threat and has suffered because of its lack of walls. Not that these walls did Maxentius much good in the end.
However, there is yet another spanner thrown into the works. During a brief moment later in the episode, we are treated to yet another establishing shot, this time ostensibly of the Roman Forum.
There are more identifiable buildings which remain consistent with our previous theory of I, Caumbus having a 4th-century CE setting. The Arch of Septimius Severus (dating to 203 CE) — although lacking the detail of the Arch of Constantine — really helps to orientate us here. Despite the absence of the Rostra, I am confident that the building before Homer on his left is none other than the Curia Iulia, the Roman Senate House, in its final Diocletianic incarnation after a fire in 283 CE. In fact, I believe I have found the reconstruction on which The Simpsons based their version of the Curia on the Wikipedia page dedicated to the building (below).
The dates on the Arch and the Curia match well with our other findings and their accurate positioning and modelling lead us to our final monument. A monument which threatens to unbalance the whole thing! In the front-left of the frame, a celebratory fluted column stands on a marble pedestal. Given all of the above, I believe this particular column to be the Column of Phocas (below), a commemorative monument which, according to the inscription, was dedicated to the Eastern Roman Emperor Phocas in 608 CE (!!!) as a vote of thanks for the presentation of the Pantheon in Rome to Pope Gregory for use as a church. This monument has the unfortunate record as the final monument dedicated in the Roman Forum.
We’ve somehow landed in the Early Middle Ages, far beyond even the most optimistic chronological interpretation of Rome’s grandeur and political importance presented in The Simpsons. Perhaps it is a mistake on the part of the consultants and writers, an unfortunate inclusion of the only commemorative column still standing in the Forum today. It would certainly be a very minor mistake at that.
However, it is no mistake at all. The specifics on the Phocas inscription make reference not to a new column, but a new statue. It goes, “To the best, most clement, and most pious emperor, our lord Phocas, […] Smaragdus […] set this statue of his majesty, shining with the splendour of gold, upon this high column.” So the statue was dedicated in 608 CE, not the column itself. But then, how old is the column? Coarelli throws out a ballpark “second century CE” and leaves it at that. Satisfying? Certainly not. But it is sufficient for our present exercise. And, as the show does not reveal to us what is on top of the column (statue or no statue) we can assume that it is the pre-Phocas column.
So, to wrap all this up, we can be confident that, according to the topography of Rome in I, Carumbus, the episode took place post-315 CE in the Age of Constantine. Indeed, although much of the plot relies on earlier models of Roman government and social relations (pre-Crisis of the Third Century), any date later than the Constantinian Age would make no sense at all. Either way, I would thoroughly recommend the episode to anyone interested in ancient Rome or one of the longest-running sitcoms on TV.
If you’re interested in Roman Topography, there really isn’t a better place to start than Rome and Environs: An Archaeological Guide by Filippo Coarelli.
