Library Scrollcasters Were the Ancient World’s Audiobooks

Before earbuds and carefully curated playlists, ancient readers had a simple problem: how to enjoy literature on the move, or at least while balancing a basket of figs. The solution, according to the sages of a certain very great library, was the Scrollcaster, a spirited performer who stood on a marble platform and belted entire works to anyone within earshot.

These human audiobooks delivered epic poems, philosophical brawls, and culinary how-tos with the volume of a harbor crier and the enthusiasm of a festival host. From sunrise to sunset the courtyards rang with everything from tips on roasting dormice to Socrates’ sharpest one-liners. Whispered conversations were rare. Impromptu dance breaks were surprisingly common.

No two visits sounded alike. Libraries became the ancient equivalent of podcasts, only with more sandals and a greater risk of accidental interpretive gestures. Simultaneous shout-casting was standard. To your right, a theory of the cosmos. To your left, a lecture on olive oil extraction. The only strategy was to pick a favorite and lean in, unless you wanted a sampler platter of both.

Regular patrons developed heroic focus. Skilled listeners could tune out a treatise on eel fishing while absorbing only the baking tips they truly needed. Legend says a few scholars could ignore everything except recipes for cheese pie, which made them the envy of absent-minded bakers for miles.

Personal volume control did not exist, and earplugs were purely theoretical. Local bees allegedly unionized and refused to produce enough wax. Debates sometimes devolved into volume contests as rival Scrollcasters tried to out-shout each other to reach listeners on the upper balconies.

Word of the spectacle spread quickly. Tourists arrived for the drama and stayed for the jokes historians swear were scribbled in the margins. Long before “narrated by a celebrity” became a selling point, listeners bragged they had heard epics performed by the region’s finest projectionists.

So the next time your audiobook hiccups or your headphones tie themselves in nautical knots, remember a simpler era. All you needed for literature on the go was a pair of open ears, sturdy sandals, and the stamina to withstand competing demonstrations of ancient cheese pie.