The Aeneid Discussion Group

[Virgil]

Hey there. I am starting this thread to discuss Virgil's The Aeneid. It is one of the great epics of ancient times, and it is one of the most influential works in history. Written at the end of the first century B.C., it came at the end of the crises of the Roman Republic where Augustus firmly gained control of the empire and created the governing system of the Principate. Virgil (Publius Vergilius Maro), who had already established his greatness of Roman poetry through his previous works of The Eclogues and The Georgics, looked back at the chaos of that century and tried to make sense of it by creating an epic of the founding of Rome and linking the founding to his contemporary events. In addition, he looks back to Homer as a model for his epic, and while there are several parallels to Homer, it is quite different as well. I hope many will join me in this read.

I will be reading the relatively new Robert Fagles translation ( http://www.amazon.com/Aeneid-Virgil/dp/0670038032), but i have previously read the Robert Fitzgerald translation (http://www.amazon.com/Aeneid-Virgil/dp/0679729526). I will say that I loved the Fitzgerald translation but since Fagles did such a great job on translating both The Illiad and The Odyssey, I just had to check out how he does with a Latin text. So without further ado, post your thoughts as we go. I will try to post thoughts on each book of the 12 books, but do not feel constrained by that.

Finally here's an image of the Robert Fagles's translation:

http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/516NwkvrW3L._AA240_.jpg

The sketch on the book's cover is Aeneas, the hero of the epic, carrying his elderly father through burning city of Troy. That act tells us so much of the character of Aeneas.

[quasimodo1]

First lines of "The Aeneid" in Latin and translation..."ARMA virumque cano, Trojae qui primus ab oris/ Italiam fato profugus Lavinaque venit/ litora--multum ille et terris jactatus et alto/ vi superum, saevae memorem Junonis ob iram,/ multa quoque et bello passus, dum conderet urbem/ Inferretque deos Latio--genus unde Latinum/ Albanique patres atque altae moenia Romae." ...and the English translation....................................... ............"ARMS, and the man I sing, who forc'd by fate,/ And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,/ Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore./ Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore,/ And in the doubtful war, before he won/ The Latian realm, and built the destin's town;/ His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine, And settled sure succession in his line,/ From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome." .......This translation done by no less than John Dryden of a work he could read in the original text (the Aeneid written 19 B.C.E.) gives clear premise that the ancestors will be shown to be the aristocrats and gods of ancient Greece, society models for Virgil's Roman Empire.

[NickAdams]

I wanted to begin my reading this coming year with the ancient texts (Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Beowolf and so forth), but I bought a friend Invisible Man and read the introduction. Then the prologue. I am currently reading the second chapter. Maybe I will join you on Sundays, while I'm working at the book store; we have more than enough copies.

[NickAdams]

Wow! We're sold out. That's weird.

[quasimodo1]

Arms and the man I sing, who first made way,
predestined exile, from the Trojan shore
to Italy, the blest Lavinian strand.
Smitten of storms he was on land and sea
by violence of Heaven, to satisfy
stern Juno's sleepless wrath; and much in war
he suffered, seeking at the last to found
the city, and bring o'er his fathers' gods
to safe abode in Latium; whence arose
the Latin race, old Alba's reverend lords,
and from her hills wide-walled, imperial Rome.
.by Theodore C. Williams (Juno equals the Greek god, Hera, queen of the Greek deities)

[quasimodo1]

Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
the hallowed heights of Troy.
Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home.
But he could not save them from disaster, hard as he strove –
the recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all,
the blind fools, they devoured the cattle of the Sun
and the Sungod blotted out the day of their return. . . .

Translated by Robert Fagles (1996)

[stlukesguild]

I SING of deadly dolorous debate,
Stir'd vp through wrathfull Nemesis despight,
Betwixt two mightie ones of great estate,
Drawne into armes, and proofe of mortall fight,
Through prowd ambition, and hartswelling hate,
Whilest neither could the others greater might
And sdeignfull scorne endure; that from small iarre
Their wraths at length broke into open warre.

These are the opening lines of Spencer's M U I O P O T M O S: or THE FATE OF THE BUTTERFLIE... a mock epic that clearly recalls the opening lines of Virgil's epic setting up a tale of war between the spider and the fly (or the butterfly, as the case may be).

[Petrarch's Love]

Oh man, I'll certainly have to be in on a discussion that includes both the Aeneid and Muiopotmos (indeed I've spent the last week or so casually pondering whether I can find a way to write a dissertation on Muiopotmos somehow...alas thus far to no avail:p ). I've read the Aeneid more than once, and been through it recently for my exams, so I'm not going to re-read it along with the group but will happily join in whatever discussion emerges.

That opening line has got to be one of the most imitated, referenced and parodied in all of literature, with "to be or not to be" a possible close second. From Spenser, to Shaw, to the fellow in my first year Latin class who used to run around saying "Karma virumque cano," it seems as though no one can resist the impulse to make witty with the Aeneid's first three words.

[bluevictim]

Muses of LitNet, sing! of the famed lines written by Vergil,
Lines you preserved through the ages, a lasting witness of Roman
Glory, ambition, and pride, which endured the barbarians' fury,
Shadowy letterless times, and the whimsical errors of careless
Scribes, and became forefather to many a noble descendant,
Being itself a descendant of parents with fame everlasting.

:)

[Virgil]

Wow, what a great start. Quasi has graciously sent me a web link of Virgil's biography: http://quotes-of-wisdom.eu/en/author/virgil/biography. Also Wiki provides a good background to Virgil and to the Aeneid. I also forgot to mention that we have The Aeneid here on lit net as a electronic book: http://www.online-literature.com/virgil/aeneid/. This is the John Dryden translation.

[quasimodo1]

While re-reading the Aeneid's "book 1", especially a line like..."Besides, long causes working in her mind,/ And secret seeds of envy, lay behind;" this reader wonder's who made up Virgil's audience. The answer... mostly aristocratic citizens, senators, generals, tax collectors, regional governors, patricians of all stripes. Could this group be more than 5% of the Roman population? Probably not. Taking this into account, you can view this epic as what is called today an "open letter" to the present and future elite of Rome.

[Lioness_Heart]

omg I'm going to reread all my latin GCSE notes and then join in with this discussion; I Love the Aeneid!! We had to memorise huge chunks of latin and the English translation for our exam, and our teacher drew us a 'pictoral Aeneid' on the whiteboard nearly every lesson.

[Virgil]

While re-reading the Aeneid's "book 1", especially a line like..."Besides, long causes working in her mind,/ And secret seeds of envy, lay behind;" this reader wonder's who made up Virgil's audience. The answer... mostly aristocratic citizens, senators, generals, tax collectors, regional governors, patricians of all stripes. Could this group be more than 5% of the Roman population? Probably not. Taking this into account, you can view this epic as what is called today an "open letter" to the present and future elite of Rome.
Good point Quasi. I suspect it was even less than 5% of the population.



omg I'm going to reread all my latin GCSE notes and then join in with this discussion; I Love the Aeneid!! We had to memorise huge chunks of latin and the English translation for our exam, and our teacher drew us a 'pictoral Aeneid' on the whiteboard nearly every lesson.

Great Lioness. What's a pictorial Aeneid?

[Dori]

Excellent! I own The Aeneid in audio format (Robert Fagles's translation).

I'm not sure how useful this website will be, but virgil.org (http://virgil.org/) seems to be a good source to learn more about Virgil.

[Janine]

First off, let me say that I know nothing or little about this subject and I am sort of left in the dust....but, so far, what I have read interests me, and I will try to keep reading all of your posts. The poetry is grand. I am always hungry to learn new things, also.

Virgil, you did a fine job starting this thread. I like the way you posted the photo of the cover, of that particular translation...very helpful. Thanks for the knowledge that another translation is available on this site, also. :thumbs_up

I like the links to various sites, such as the biography of Virgil, thanks, Quasi, ....also very helpful. I will certainly read up on Virgil's biography, among other things and educate myself a little about this subject. Sadly, I greatly lack in my knowledge of Greek Mythology and history.



Excellent! I own The Aeneid in audio format (Robert Fagles's translation).

Now this interests me. I would be interested in listening to this in the near future and will look into it. Did you buy it recently...any thoughts on how to find it, Dori?




I'm not sure how useful this website will be, but virgil.org (http://virgil.org/) seems to be a good source to learn more about Virgil.

Thanks, Dori, I will read this site, as well.

[Dori]

Now this interests me. I would be interested in listening to this in the near future and will look into it. Did you buy it recently...any thoughts on how to find it, Dori?

I bought it about a year ago from Barnes and Noble. It was still available at the local (I should say nearest) Barnes and Noble not more than a week ago. Here's the link for it on Amazon.com: The Aeneid, audiobook (http://www.amazon.com/Aeneid-Virgil/dp/0143059025/ref=pd_bbs_sr_5?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1199309922&sr=8-5).

If my eyes serve me right, I think Virgil posted the picture of the audiobook (the one I own) rather than the hardcover copy of the book (found here (http://www.amazon.com/Aeneid-Virgil/dp/0670038032/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1199309922&sr=8-1)). I think I can make out "Unabridged ~ 10 CDs" at the top in the picture Virgil provided.

[Janine]

Thanks Dori, I have been reading the posts on Amazon - very interesting...I put the book into my "Wish List" and may buy it soon - really reasonable on there.

[Virgil]

Well, I read Book I and let me put out some thoughts on the first few stanzas. Virgil emphasizes a number of things in that very first stanza. Obviously war, but also fate, destiny, the difficulties Aeneas bears, the rage of Juno, the founding of Rome, and the bringing of his gods there. These are all the themes that will be expanded upon. And as a method of getting into the exposition, Virgil asks the muse several questions that I find interesting:

Tell me,
Muse, how it all began. Why was Juno outraged?
What could wound the Queen of the Gods with all her power?
Why did she force a man, so famous for his devotion,
to brave such rounds of hardship, bear such trials?
Can such rage inflame the immortals' hearts? (l.8-13)
First it re-emphasizes the difficulties that Aeneas will bear, but it also shows how much of a play thing of the gods we humans are, even for a devout person as Aeneas. Does being devout really provide anything? And the other observation is the last question: can human emotions be inside the gods. The answer obviously is yes, but Virgil takes the stance that he doesn't know.

The exposition follows from these questions, and we see another interesting thing. Yes there is the line of destiny that stemmed from the judgement of Paris that led to the Trojan war and the fall of Troy. But we now have an additonal line of "history" that the Greeks never had in their epics: Aeneas and his men will found the city of Rome and come into conflict and destroy Juno's city of Carthage. The line of destiny will now lead into real, not mythic, contemporary history.

And following the exposition, we see the whims of the gods creating chaos to the sailing ships.


With such thanks, swinging his [Aeolus] spear around he strikes home
at the mountain's hollow flank and out charged the winds
through the breech he made, like armes on attack
in a blasting whirlwind tearing through the earth.
Down they crash on the sea, the Eastwind, Southwind,
all as one with the southwest's squalls in hot pursuit,
heaving up from the ocean depths huge killer-breakers
rolling toward the beaches. The crews are shouting,
cables screeching--suddenly cloudbanks blotting out
the sky, the light of day, from the Trojan's sight
as pitch-black night comes brooding down on the sea
with thunder crashing pole to pole, bolt on bolt
blazing across the heavens--death, everywhere
men facing instant death. (l. 97-110)

And just as sudden, sixty lines later when Neptune realizes what has happened on his seas, he puts and end to the turmoil and brings stability:

Quicker than his [Neptune] command he calms the heaving seas,
putting the clouds to rout and bringing back the sun. (l.167-8)

[Dori]

I posted this on another site which also held a discussion of The Aeneid. Perhaps it will be of some use:

Below I will list some online texts which can either be used entirely (in other words, instead of actually buying it), or in part for reference purposes.

The Aeneid, Theodore C. Williams translation, Verse (http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus:text:1999.02.0054:book=1:line=1)
The Aeneid, John Dryden translation, Verse (http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/cgi-bin/ptext?doc=Perseus:text:1999.02.0052:book=1:line=1)
The Aeneid, A. S. Kline translation, Verse (http://www.tkline.freeserve.co.uk/Virgilhome.htm)

The John Dryden trans. uses archaic language, and the A. S. Kline trans. reads the smoothest out of the three online translations. But the decision is up to whomever will decide to use the links.

Both David West's prose translation (if you want to read prose) and Robert Fagle's verse translation are the better choices, from what I've seen (both of which aren't available online).

[stlukesguild]

First it re-emphasizes the difficulties that Aeneas will bear, but it also shows how much of a play thing of the gods we humans are, even for a devout person as Aeneas. Does being devout really provide anything?

Intriguing theme... the notion of man... even the most devout man... as being nothing but a plaything for the gods/God. The most obvious parallel that comes to mind is the Hebrew book of Job... not that in anyway I expect Virgil would have been aware of this work. I further wonder whether this concept of the all powerful toying with their "underlings"... even the most loyal... might also be rooted in Virgil's knowledge or experience of how the politicians and rulers of Rome operated... especially if one considers the supposed appropriation of the lands belonging to Virgil's family near Mantua in order to pay off the soldiers who had supported the cause of the Second Triumvirate (including Octavian) against the Liberators (Julius Caesar's assassins, Brutus and Cassius).

[Virgil]

First it re-emphasizes the difficulties that Aeneas will bear, but it also shows how much of a play thing of the gods we humans are, even for a devout person as Aeneas. Does being devout really provide anything?

Intriguing theme... the notion of man... even the most devout man... as being nothing but a plaything for the gods/God. The most obvious parallel that comes to mind is the Hebrew book of Job... not that in anyway I expect Virgil would have been aware of this work.
I was abut to say I do to know the Book of job, but then I realized you meant the real Virgil. :lol:


I further wonder whether this concept of the all powerful toying with their "underlings"... even the most loyal... might also be rooted in Virgil's knowledge or experience of how the politicians and rulers of Rome operated... especially if one considers the supposed appropriation of the lands belonging to Virgil's family near Mantua in order to pay off the soldiers who had supported the cause of the Second Triumvirate (including Octavian) against the Liberators (Julius Caesar's assassins, Brutus and Cassius).
Interesting thought. But this notion of of humans as playthings of the gods goes back to even before Virgil. But it does have a parallel to the politicians, whether intended or coincidence.

[Petrarch's Love]

I was abut to say I do to know the Book of job, but then I realized you meant the real Virgil.

This could make things a tad confusing. :lol: I for one plan to address the lit. net Virgil only as Virg. on this thread, and the original Virgil as Virgil in an attempt to avoid confusion...that is unless our Virgil minds.



Intriguing theme... the notion of man... even the most devout man... as being nothing but a plaything for the gods/God. The most obvious parallel that comes to mind is the Hebrew book of Job... not that in anyway I expect Virgil would have been aware of this work. I further wonder whether this concept of the all powerful toying with their "underlings"... even the most loyal... might also be rooted in Virgil's knowledge or experience of how the politicians and rulers of Rome operated... especially if one considers the supposed appropriation of the lands belonging to Virgil's family near Mantua in order to pay off the soldiers who had supported the cause of the Second Triumvirate (including Octavian) against the Liberators (Julius Caesar's assassins, Brutus and Cassius).

I think Job makes for an interesting comparison with the Aeneid opening, though perhaps the parallels only go so far. Certainly both the book of Job and Virgil's epic are addressing the problem of the devout man who suffers and is helpless before forces greater than himself. The nature of the divine power, however, is rather different in the two texts. In Job he's supposed to accept that there is something about God that is unknowable, and that it is not his place to ask about God's motives, and the story is told in such a way that the reader also is in a position to be awed by the mystery of God's ways. I don't really get the sense that Job is necessarily God's plaything, as much as a sense that we don't really know what God's motives are. He may just be playing about and testing Job, or there may be some really good reason for Job's suffering related to some highly complex universal plan. We just don't really know.

I suppose one imagines that Aeneas himself is similarly in the dark about the gods' motives, but certainly the story is told in a way that makes the machinations of the gods clear to us. This is where I think you're right to bring up the parallel in human politics. These gods behave like immensely powerful men rather than like mysterious and unknowable higher beings. It seems perfectly right to characterize them as sometimes looking upon humans and their fates as playthings. As Virg. points out, certainly this view of the Gods was something Virgil was picking up from Homer and others, so the format wasn't solely inspired by political events of his own time. However, the idea of the Gods behaving in this manner from Homer on must surely have been inspired by the observation powerful men and their influence of those below them, which can be universal to any time. Certainly Virgil's own knowledge of these goings on would make him more effective writing in this traditional vein.

Thinking of the influence of Homer, it is interesting to note that Odysseus' troubles similar sea faring troubles in the Odyssey do at least start because actions of his own ticked off the gods. Virgil does change things by making Aeneas a much more personally blameless hero. His travails are not as much the cause of his bad actions in the present as they are the cause of the actions of those in the past, and the prediction of things that will take place in the future. This does indeed, bring us back to a Job-like parallel, as you pointed out.

[stlukesguild]

I was abut to say I do to know the Book of job, but then I realized you meant the real Virgil.:lol:

Yes... this could lead to some real problems. You might find yourself getting a swollen head when one of us makes some comment about Virgil's "brilliance" or "genius". On the other hand... you might imagine yourself the center of a personal attack when somebody suggests that Virgil is just far too pretentious... or a pompous windbag.:lol:

[stlukesguild]

Petrarch's Love... we could refer to THE Virgil by his full name, Publius Vergilius Maro... or Virgilius for short.:brow: Rather like your own dilemma in discussing Petrarch's Canzoniere.:rolleyes: Luckily, we're not likely to be reading anything by St. Luke in the near future.

[stlukesguild]

Petrarch's Love... I guess that the link I see between the way in which the Greco-Roman gods play with the mere mortals and that of the Book of Job lies more within the behind the scenes frame story. Ever since reading Stephen Mitchell's marvelous introduction to his translation of Job, I have been unable to ignore the almost Kafkaesque absurdity and cruelty. God calls all his minions together then brags, "did you notice my servant, Job?" The tempter (or the Accuser) cannot help but fall for the bait... and for the sake of a bet, if you will, he's given permission to do as he will. After the death and destruction of almost all that Job cares for the Lord then states (in a manner almost nauseating) "See? He's holding on to his wholeness even after you made me torment him for no reason." which is followed by the calm cruelty of "All right. He's in your power; just don't kill him." When the Lord eventually does deign to answer Job's question, "Why", the answer is an almost visionary splendor conveying the impossibility of ever fathoming God's intentions... but then I find myself wondering... how far removed is this from Kafka's tales of the unknowable... mysterious ways of the powers that be? Can we really expect the Lord to come out and admit, "Well Job, you see... it all began with this little bet..."? But I digress... Virgil... Virgilius...Publius Vergilius Maro... that's our man.:thumbs_up

[grace86]

Virg. I have been trying to post here since you started the thread!!! I am going to be optimistic and attempt to read the Aeneid....very slowly might I add because classes start Friday for me.

I've read the major parts of The Aeneid in my world literature course last year, and I loved all I read. Unfortunately I do not like the way it was discussed in class, so I am looking forward to participating.

Everyone here sounds so darn intelligent though grrrr...;) by the time I actually get around to posting on litnet my brain has already been fried for the day!!!! But I shall pursue...:D

stlukesguild I keep seeing the quotations in your signature and I keep wanting to say how much I love them!!!! Thank you for sharing them, they're great!

[Virgil]

Certainly both the book of Job and Virgil's epic are addressing the problem of the devout man who suffers and is helpless before forces greater than himself. The nature of the divine power, however, is rather different in the two texts. In Job he's supposed to accept that there is something about God that is unknowable, and that it is not his place to ask about God's motives, and the story is told in such a way that the reader also is in a position to be awed by the mystery of God's ways. I don't really get the sense that Job is necessarily God's plaything, as much as a sense that we don't really know what God's motives are. He may just be playing about and testing Job, or there may be some really good reason for Job's suffering related to some highly complex universal plan. We just don't really know.

Oh but Job is a plaything of God and we the reader do know what His motives are. As St Luke's quotes subsequent to your post, God is in a way betting with Satan on Job's faith. The difference is that Job as a character doesn't know why God is afflicting him, as opposed to Aeneas who certainly knows of his duty to found Rome and I believe he understands that Juno is set against him.


Thinking of the influence of Homer, it is interesting to note that Odysseus' troubles similar sea faring troubles in the Odyssey do at least start because actions of his own ticked off the gods. Virgil does change things by making Aeneas a much more personally blameless hero. His travails are not as much the cause of his bad actions in the present as they are the cause of the actions of those in the past, and the prediction of things that will take place in the future. This does indeed, bring us back to a Job-like parallel, as you pointed out.
Good point about the similarity and differences to The Odyssesy.

[Virgil]

Virg. I have been trying to post here since you started the thread!!! I am going to be optimistic and attempt to read the Aeneid....very slowly might I add because classes start Friday for me.

I've read the major parts of The Aeneid in my world literature course last year, and I loved all I read. Unfortunately I do not like the way it was discussed in class, so I am looking forward to participating.

Everyone here sounds so darn intelligent though grrrr...;) by the time I actually get around to posting on litnet my brain has already been fried for the day!!!! But I shall pursue...:D


Well, it would be nice to have you join us Grace. I think Janine is somewhat interested herself. I understand that school work must come first. What translation did you use in class by the way?

[quasimodo1]

Virgil, forgive the delay in this posting; it resulted from something that always seemed missing in the English translation (Dryden, in this case). First let me say that when making our own translation of many key parts of this Latin epic, back in the day, we were so busy trying to get the parts translated correctly that the impetus of the work was almost considered peripherally. There are variations on the theme for each deity, a concept that seems illusive because of common and present religious assumptions that most readers bring to this experience. The oft mentioned gods such as "the tyrant Aeolus", god of the winds and "the haughty Juno", overloard deity, should not be percieved as just a god among many others, but rather consider them active forces of nature in Virgil's world and like natural forces were fickle, fair and unfair, conspiring against or assisting Aeneas, his warriors and his enemies. The reader encounters so many deities as to dismiss them as the ravings of a primative religion. It is helpfull to look for a mindset that includes these entities as real to Virgil as earth, air, fire and water. Since the Latin text is so compressed compared to modern translations, alot of what we would call spin or connotation comes across somewhat watered down. Here is a usefull comparison........................................ ............ ["Aeolus haec contra: "Tuus, O regina, quid optes explorare labor; mihi jussa capessere fas est. / Tu mihi quodcumque hoc regni, tu sceptra Jovemque/ concilias, tu das epulis accumbere divum/ nimborumque facis tempestatumque potentem." ] lines 76 to 80 inclusive.... And the English translation (Dryden) ["To this the god: "'T'is yours, O queen, to will / The work which duty binds me to fulfil. / These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, / Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: / Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest, / I sit with gods at their celestial feast; / Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; / Dispose of empire, which I hold from you."] Note the length of the English compared to Latin; it shows at least that some intensity is lost in translation.

[grace86]

Well, it would be nice to have you join us Grace. I think Janine is somewhat interested herself. I understand that school work must come first. What translation did you use in class by the way?

I used the Robert Fagles Translation and I loved it!

If I can't find that translation at the library I will cave and buy it (I've been wanting to buy it since it came out anyway). Turns out they are going to have a paperback edition of the Fagles translation coming out at the end of this month.

[Virgil]

Virgil, forgive the delay in this posting; it resulted from something that always seemed missing in the English translation (Dryden, in this case). First let me say that when making our own translation of many key parts of this Latin epic, back in the day, we were so busy trying to get the parts translated correctly that the impetus of the work was almost considered peripherally. There are variations on the theme for each deity, a concept that seems illusive because of common and present religious assumptions that most readers bring to this experience. The oft mentioned gods such as "the tyrant Aeolus", god of the winds and "the haughty Juno", overloard deity, should not be percieved as just a god among many others, but rather consider them active forces of nature in Virgil's world and like natural forces were fickle, fair and unfair, conspiring against or assisting Aeneas, his warriors and his enemies. The reader encounters so many deities as to dismiss them as the ravings of a primative religion. It is helpfull to look for a mindset that includes these entities as real to Virgil as earth, air, fire and water.
Very good point Quasi. But it is interesting in the first book that while the winds destroys and sinks the ships Neptune (or was it Venus) reconstructs them and undos the damage, presumably bringing back to life drowned sailors. That's actually beyond just natural forces.


Since the Latin text is so compressed compared to modern translations, alot of what we would call spin or connotation comes across somewhat watered down. Here is a usefull comparison........................................ ............ ["Aeolus haec contra: "Tuus, O regina, quid optes explorare labor; mihi jussa capessere fas est. / Tu mihi quodcumque hoc regni, tu sceptra Jovemque/ concilias, tu das epulis accumbere divum/ nimborumque facis tempestatumque potentem." ] lines 76 to 80 inclusive.... And the English translation (Dryden) ["To this the god: "'T'is yours, O queen, to will / The work which duty binds me to fulfil. / These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, / Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: / Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest, / I sit with gods at their celestial feast; / Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; / Dispose of empire, which I hold from you."] Note the length of the English compared to Latin; it shows at least that some intensity is lost in translation.
Yes I see. I wish I could really read Latin. It's a shame we have to rely on translators so desperately. I don't have my editions handy (I'm at work right now) but I wonder how Fagles and Fitzgerald handle that section. I will check when I get home.

[quasimodo1]

http://www.unrv.com/culture/major-roman-god-list.php and this paragraph about Roman Religion circa 600BC, just about the time the Aeneid Epic was placed. "The gods of the Roman pantheon began taking on the forms known today during the dynasty of the Etruscan kings in the 6th century BC. These gods, Jupiter (Zeus), Juno (Hera), and Minerva (Athena), were worshiped at the grand temple on the Capitoline Hill. As Rome's power grew and expanded throughout the known world, the Roman Empire came into contact with the cultures and religious beliefs of many cultures. The Romans, happy to absorb and assimilate any culture they encountered thereby reaping the benefits of both its wealth and religious influence, were a mosaic of belief systems. Foreign gods and customs not only played major roles but were also given temples and priesthoods within Rome itself. The goddess Cybele, a Phoenician god was adopted during the Second Punic War to counteract any benefit that Hannibal may have gained. Even after his defeat, Cybele remained an integral part of the Roman system. Another very popular foreign god was the Persian god Mithra. Overwhelmingly supported in the Legions, this deity offered eternal salvation for the immortal soul and its popularity helped pave the way for the later Christian cult whose similarities made its adoption less difficult."

[Lioness_Heart]

What's a pictorial Aeneid?


Well, basically he'd just illustrate as we translated. And if we got stuck, we'd have a bit of a pictionary session to try to work it out. It was very fun, and meant that we all knew the story really well! Except he was the worst artist I've ever seen (Dido was basically a squiggle with a crown on top)

[Dori]

My English teacher just assigned 1984 by G. Orwell, so I will have to postpone The Aeneid until next week at least. I also started reading Those Who Love by Irving Stone which is 700+ pages long.


Everyone here sounds so darn intelligent though grrrr...;) by the time I actually get around to posting on litnet my brain has already been fried for the day!!!! But I shall pursue...:D

:lol: I don't think I could justifiably make this claim (of sounding intellegent, that is). This is largely a learning experience for me (I hope ;) ).


stlukesguild I keep seeing the quotations in your signature and I keep wanting to say how much I love them!!!! Thank you for sharing them, they're great!

Seconded. :)

[Janine]

My English teacher just assigned 1984 by G. Orwell, so I will have to postpone The Aeneid until next week at least. I also started reading Those Who Love by Irving Stone which is 700+ pages long.

Wow, how school can interfer with such fun reads! :bawling: :lol: I must also refrain because I decided I am loading myself up with too much again this month and I really do need a bit of a rest or to proceed with my own direct interests, at my own leisurely pace.

Dora, you will enjoy reading those books, most likely.
I want to check out more Irving Stone, eventually. Which ones did you particularly like? You said your mother owns a number of them. I only read "The Agony and the Ecstasy" years ago, when a friend gave me a copy. I loved it! Can you tell me - didn't Stone write a similar book on "Van Gogh"? However, I may be mixing up authors. I thought it was called "Lust for Life" but not at all sure - that just popped mysteriously into my feeble brain.;)



:lol: I don't think I could justifiably make this claim (of sounding intellegent, that is). This is largely a learning experience for me (I hope ;) ).

Yeah, really, there are some on the forum that seem to think they are intelligent (not talking about anyone here so you can all be relieved), but their intelligence may be questionable. Anyway, we are all intelligent in our own way....
Grace, you are smarter than you give yourself credit for!

I like those signatures, too.

[bluevictim]

It might be fun/interesting/useful to discuss some of the legends that are mentioned in Book 1 which also occur in Homer. When I first read the Aeneid, I found myself often stopping and trying to remember the relevant passages in Homer, so maybe this will help if someone has the same tendency.

Lines 39-45, Ajax son of Oileus -- See Odyssey, Book 4, lines 499-511 for a description of how Ajax the lesser (not to be confused with Telamonian Ajax) died. Homer doesn't relate the reason behind Athena's anger. According to legend, Ajax tore Cassandra from Athena's temple (she had run to it for refuge) so forcefully that he broke the wooden image of Athena which she was clinging to; according to later legend, he raped Cassandra in front of Athena's image.

Lines 96-97, son of Tydeus (ie Diomedes) -- See Iliad Book 5, lines 297-351. Aeneas is referring to the episode where Aeneas fights Diomedes, and is overcome (Diomedes was on a streak at the time) but miraculously rescued in the nick of time by Aphrodite (Venus) and Apollo. This seems to be a common experience for Aeneas. Later (Iliad Book 20), Poseidon miraculously rescues him from Achilles in the nick of time. While Poseidon is debating whether or not he should save Aeneas from death, he prophecies that Aeneas will "escape" and that he and his sons will rule the Trojans. Poseidon's prophecy may be one of Virgil's reasons for choosing Aeneas to be his hero.

Line 99, son of Aeacus (ie Achilles) and Hector -- Hector's death at the hands of Achilles is described in Book 22 of the Iliad.

Line 100, Sarpedon -- Patroclus kills Sarpedon in Iliad Book 16, lines 419-507. In this account, there is a debate between Zeus (Jupiter) and Hera (Juno) that receives a lot of attention, about whether or not he should defy fate and save Sarpedon. One of the most famous passages in all of Homer is Sarpedon's speech in Book 12 of the Iliad (lines 310-328). In it he urges his fellows to fight because that (he asserts) is the obligation of kings to their subjects. He also uses the certainty of death as a reason to fight: since you can't escape your fate, you might as well go out and die gloriously.

Lines 469-473, Rhesus -- The story of Odysseus and Diomedes raiding the Thracian camp at night and killing Rhesus and stealing their horses is in Book 10 of the Iliad.

Lines 474-478, Troilus -- Homer only makes passing mention of Troilus. In Greek sources, he is a boy killed early in the war by Achilles either on Apollo's altar or in an ambush.

Lines 479-481, Trojan women -- This is described in Iliad Book 6, lines 286-311. The Greeks were getting the better of the Trojans so Helenos, a seer, addressed Aeneas and Hector, instructing Hector to go to the city, as Aeneas takes over the fighting, to instruct the women to make sacrifices at Athena's temple and lay robes on her idol's knees. This is the reason why Hector left the fighting to have his famous moment with his wife and son at the end of the book.

Line 482, the goddess just turned away and held her eyes fixed -- Maybe this detail was suggested by a remark by Homer (line 311, Book 6, Iliad): "but Pallas Athena turned her head up ".

Lines 483-484, three times around the Trojan wall he had dragged Hector -- After Achilles kills Hector, he ties his body to his chariot by the ankles and drags his body behind it, but in modern editions of Homer, there is no mention of Achilles dragging Hector [i]around Troy's walls three times. Homer does describe Achilles dragging Hector in front of Troy's walls (where he killed him) back to the Greek camp (Book 22), and around Patroclus' body three times in Book 23, and around Patroclus' tomb three times in Book 24 of the Iliad.

Line 484, sold the corpse for gold -- That is, Achilles allowed Priam to ransom Hector's body back (Iliad Book 24).

For many of the legends that do occur in Homer, Virgil's main source was probably Homer, but he also drew on a lot of traditional stories. Anyways, since probably no one found my hexameters very amusing, I thought I'd post something that might be a little more useful, especially to people who like Homer's epics. :)

[Dori]

Wow, how school can interfer with such fun reads! :bawling: :lol: I must also refrain because I decided I am loading myself up with too much again this month and I really do need a bit of a rest or to proceed with my own direct interests, at my own leisurely pace.

Yeah, school does have a way of putting a knot in things... I have been looking forward to reading 1984, despite any comments I've picked up from this side (that is, those concerned with the "overratedness" of the book), so it is not hard to postpone any other reading. :)


Dora, you will enjoy reading those books, most likely.
I want to check out more Irving Stone, eventually. Which ones did you particularly like? You said your mother owns a number of them. I only read "The Agony and the Ecstasy" years ago, when a friend gave me a copy. I loved it! Can you tell me - didn't Stone write a similar book on "Van Gogh"? However, I may be mixing up authors. I thought it was called "Lust for Life" but not at all sure - that just popped mysteriously into my feeble brain.;)

:lol: It's Dori, not Dora.

My friend's mother owns a lot of them. I've only read The Agony and the Ecstasy, but after I finish Those Who Love, I will be moving onto The Origin, a book about the life of Charles Darwin. And yes, you are correct; Stone wrote a book about Van Gogh called Lust for Life. My friend's parents are the sort of people who have boxes upon boxes of books, and therefore if they own any of his other works, they are lost among them.

I enjoy our discussions, Janine, so perhaps we could continue via PM? I'm not one for getting too off-topic, although, as you've seen, it does seem to happen. :p :lol:

[Janine]

Yeah, school does have a way of putting a knot in things... I have been looking forward to reading 1984, despite any comments I've picked up from this side (that is, those concerned with the "overratedness" of the book), so it is not hard to postpone any other reading. :)



:lol: It's Dori, not Dora.

My friend's mother owns a lot of them. I've only read The Agony and the Ecstasy, but after I finish Those Who Love, I will be moving onto The Origin, a book about the life of Charles Darwin. And yes, you are correct; Stone wrote a book about Van Gogh called Lust for Life. My friend's parents are the sort of people who have boxes upon boxes of books, and therefore if they own any of his other works, they are lost among them.

I enjoy our discussions, Janine, so perhaps we could continue via PM? I'm not one for getting too off-topic, although, as you've seen, it does seem to happen. :p :lol:

Yeah, Dori - oh geez, sorry, now Dora definitely sounds like a girl, sorry, slipped when typing...
We will definitely communicate via PM (I will answer this one in there...I will write you first)...give me a evening to clear out my PM box; it is now 99% full...eek! They might ban me from emails; horrors!:bawling:

[bluevictim]

I always have to fight my tendency to dismiss the Aeneid as merely derivative of Homer. One thing I enjoy in the Aeneid that is absent from Homer is the intimate connection with the present time (present, that is, with respect to Virgil). For example, I really enjoyed the prophecy by Jupiter in Book 1 recounting the sequence of events that will lead from Aeneas' son Iulus to Julius Caesar. Also, the interaction between the Trojans and Dido brings to mind the eventful history between Rome and Carthage. There is some minor aetiology in Homer, but the events in the Homeric epics have little connection with current events. In the Aeneid, on the other hand, the central focus of the narrative is on the events that established the current state of affairs. The Iliad was about how the wrath of Achilles nearly brought the Greeks to ruin and the Odyssey was about how Odysseus returned home and restored order, but the Aeneid is about how Rome was founded. I think this focus sets the Aeneid apart from the Homeric epics.

[Petrarch's Love]

Petrarch's Love... we could refer to THE Virgil by his full name, Publius Vergilius Maro... or Virgilius for short. Rather like your own dilemma in discussing Petrarch's Canzoniere. Luckily, we're not likely to be reading anything by St. Luke in the near future.

:lol: Hmm. maybe I'll try switching to Virgilius for the real Virgil. Would make it more abundantly clear. Maybe I'll also start up a thread on the Canzoniere simultaneous to our discussions here, just to drive everyone crazy. :D


Petrarch's Love... I guess that the link I see between the way in which the Greco-Roman gods play with the mere mortals and that of the Book of Job lies more within the behind the scenes frame story. Ever since reading Stephen Mitchell's marvelous introduction to his translation of Job, I have been unable to ignore the almost Kafkaesque absurdity and cruelty. God calls all his minions together then brags, "did you notice my servant, Job?" The tempter (or the Accuser) cannot help but fall for the bait... and for the sake of a bet, if you will, he's given permission to do as he will. After the death and destruction of almost all that Job cares for the Lord then states (in a manner almost nauseating) "See? He's holding on to his wholeness even after you made me torment him for no reason." which is followed by the calm cruelty of "All right. He's in your power; just don't kill him." When the Lord eventually does deign to answer Job's question, "Why", the answer is an almost visionary splendor conveying the impossibility of ever fathoming God's intentions... but then I find myself wondering... how far removed is this from Kafka's tales of the unknowable... mysterious ways of the powers that be? Can we really expect the Lord to come out and admit, "Well Job, you see... it all began with this little bet..."? But I digress... Virgil... Virgilius...Publius Vergilius Maro... that's our man.:thumbs_up

Yes, of course you're right about the framing story. For some reason the speech from the whirl wind is always what really sticks in my mind from Job and I sort of forget about the opening, which probably just goes to show that God has a wicked PR man.:lol: So yes, of course both you and Virg. are right that God is on some level toying with Job. All the same, I think there's a very different sense about the God in Job versus the gods of the Aeneid. Even if you're focusing on the undoubted senseless cruelty of God in Job, or have a bit of trouble swallowing His answer (which I'm sure nearly all readers do, at least from time to time) I still think there's more of a sense that God is acting in a somewhat enigmatic or, to phrase it another way, an irrational fashion. Perhaps the difference that I'm really dancing around here, though is the nature of the relationship between man and the almighty. The God of Job is a creator, and as such there's this move to hold himself lofty and apart and unknowable, but at the same time he's really closer, more invested in man because it is His creation. The whole story is about hammering out this relationship between Creator and Created, and even the bet--though it could be attributed to God's ego--is caught up in proving something about the nature of man, which I think in some perverse way says something about His level of investment in man.

The gods of the Aeneid, on the other hand, do not make as much of an attempt to be so aloof or mysterious in their actions. They come down to earth, mingle with men, and are sometimes even the fathers and mothers of men. At the same time, however, the Virgilian gods, though they appear closer, also seem less invested in mankind in the way that God in Job is. Yes, they have their favorite cities and their favorite heroes etc., but there's more a sense that they have a whole social thing of their own going on around Olympus and that they mess around with human affairs like a game of chess. It’s clearer to everyone involved I think, what kind of relationship the gods have to man. By this I don't mean to say that the gods aren’t unpredictable and flighty, or that Aeneas might not be just as frustrated as Job, but that it’s fairly open that the gods do have this unpredictable toying relationship with men, whereas in Job there’s a lot more questioning going on about what exactly the relationship is. I think that’s probably more along the lines of what I was thinking when I said that Job doesn’t strike me as much as a plaything. Anyway, I’ll stop rambling so that we can go back to discussing the Aeneid.


he oft mentioned gods such as "the tyrant Aeolus", god of the winds and "the haughty Juno", overloard deity, should not be percieved as just a god among many others, but rather consider them active forces of nature in Virgil's world and like natural forces were fickle, fair and unfair, conspiring against or assisting Aeneas, his warriors and his enemies.

Yes, doubtless the gods of the Aeneid (and Homer, and other Greco-Roman epics) are often personified natural forces. I think what gives these stories their enduring power is that the gods are inspired by a combination of the powerful and unpredictable forces of nature and--as St. Luke's suggested earlier--of the powerful and unpredictable forces of human nature in the high and mighty.


Very good point Quasi. But it is interesting in the first book that while the winds destroys and sinks the ships Neptune (or was it Venus) reconstructs them and undos the damage, presumably bringing back to life drowned sailors. That's actually beyond just natural forces.

Could you give me some line citations for the passage you're thinking of, Virg.? I don't remember a point when Neptune miraculously reconstructs ships or brings people back to life. I thought he just calmed the seas and helped the remaining ships and survivors to shore. Maybe I'm forgetting though.


It might be fun/interesting/useful to discuss some of the legends that are mentioned in Book 1 which also occur in Homer. When I first read the Aeneid, I found myself often stopping and trying to remember the relevant passages in Homer, so maybe this will help if someone has the same tendency.

Thanks for the handy footnotes, blue. By the way, I appreciated your hexameter. The muses of Lit. Net don't get invoked nearly enough. ;)


Everyone here sounds so darn intelligent though grrrr... by the time I actually get around to posting on litnet my brain has already been fried for the day!!!! But I shall pursue...

Do hope you join in, Grace. You're just as intelligent as the rest of the bunch, it's just that some of us have a head start having read the Aeneid a few times already.

[bluevictim]

I don't really get the sense that Job is necessarily God's plaything, as much as a sense that we don't really know what God's motives are. He may just be playing about and testing Job, or there may be some really good reason for Job's suffering related to some highly complex universal plan. We just don't really know.


Oh but Job is a plaything of God and we the reader do know what His motives are. As St Luke's quotes subsequent to your post, God is in a way betting with Satan on Job's faith. The difference is that Job as a character doesn't know why God is afflicting him, as opposed to Aeneas who certainly knows of his duty to found Rome and I believe he understands that Juno is set against him.

It seems to me that it is more appropriate to describe Job as a "plaything" of the gods than Aeneas. In the case of Aeneas, the motivations of the gods are clear and human. Venus loves Aeneas because he is her son, so she makes efforts to help him. Juno hates Aeneas because he offended her, so she makes him suffer. In Job's case, on the other hand, God just kind of sits back and sees what will happen. When Job asks why he is being afflicted, God's response is, basically, "it's not for you to know" -- something a father would say to his young child or a general would say to a private.

[stlukesguild]

Petrarch's Love- Yes, of course you're right about the framing story. For some reason the speech from the whirl wind is always what really sticks in my mind from Job and I sort of forget about the opening, which probably just goes to show that God has a wicked PR man.:lol:

I agree. There is such a contrast between the almost "primitive" frame story and the brilliantly poetic and visionary rant of Job... and God's reply from the whirlwind, that Stephen Mitchell went so far as to suggest that the author was playing with the contrast intentionally... perhaps drawing upon an older existing narrative and presenting it in a one-dimensional manner... ala a puppet show or bit of German Expressionist theater... and then contrasting it so dramatically with the brilliant visionary poetry.

So yes, of course both you and Virg. are right that God is on some level toying with Job. All the same, I think there's a very different sense about the God in Job versus the gods of the Aeneid. Even if you're focusing on the undoubted senseless cruelty of God in Job, or have a bit of trouble swallowing His answer (which I'm sure nearly all readers do, at least from time to time) I still think there's more of a sense that God is acting in a somewhat enigmatic or, to phrase it another way, an irrational fashion. Perhaps the difference that I'm really dancing around here, though is the nature of the relationship between man and the almighty. The God of Job is a creator, and as such there's this move to hold himself lofty and apart and unknowable, but at the same time he's really closer, more invested in man because it is His creation. The whole story is about hammering out this relationship between Creator and Created, and even the bet--though it could be attributed to God's ego--is caught up in proving something about the nature of man, which I think in some perverse way says something about His level of investment in man.

The gods of the Aeneid, on the other hand, do not make as much of an attempt to be so aloof or mysterious in their actions. They come down to earth, mingle with men, and are sometimes even the fathers and mothers of men. At the same time, however, the Virgilian gods, though they appear closer, also seem less invested in mankind in the way that God in Job is. Yes, they have their favorite cities and their favorite heroes etc., but there's more a sense that they have a whole social thing of their own going on around Olympus and that they mess around with human affairs like a game of chess. It’s clearer to everyone involved I think, what kind of relationship the gods have to man. By this I don't mean to say that the gods aren’t unpredictable and flighty, or that Aeneas might not be just as frustrated as Job, but that it’s fairly open that the gods do have this unpredictable toying relationship with men, whereas in Job there’s a lot more questioning going on about what exactly the relationship is. I think that’s probably more along the lines of what I was thinking when I said that Job doesn’t strike me as much as a plaything.


Yes... I certainly see this. The God of Job is surely playing with Job... and yet far closer to him in the sense that he is his creator... and he basks in Job's loyalty... but this almost makes his cruelty more disturbing... unless we can fully accept the notion that God's ways are unfathomable... that he has the concerns of the entire universe... a universe almost completely unknown (unknowable) to man at hand... and as such how dare we question him? But then that frame story pops into my mind again... and I see God allowing for the destruction of this man who so loves and honors him... all for the sake of a bet... a very disturbing dichotomy.

The gods of the Aeneid on the other hand are indeed more "human" in their comings and goings... their favoritism... their seductions and love affairs... and yet... as you point out... mankind as a whole does indeed have less of a relationship with them... they are rather like pets... or a chess game... to be played with at will. Or left to their own devices when they become bored.

[grace86]

I accidentally lied Virg. the translation I read in my literature book was Robert Fitzgerald. That translation I noted in the margins loses a little bit of poetry in favor of more recent/understandable English.

Janine thanks for the compliment! :)

Petrarch I am definitely going to try and join in, it is an exciting read and I would love to read fully through it. My first day of class starts tomorrow and I think what I will have to do is figure out some time management ideas...because I must be some sort of sucker for pain. I took three courses last quarter and was so stressed out, this quarter I am taking five. Will I ever learn? :D

But I am going to see what I can get through tonight in terms of recreational reading. Looks like it will be a quiet night....hopefully I won't spend all of my time here on litnet!

[Quark]

I was stranded computer-less in San Deigo, and it looks like I missed the beginning of the discussion here. I'm glad Virgil got it started, though. The Aeneid is one of my favorites. I studied it for a while in college, and it is everything the eighteenth-century critics praised it for being. That is, the poem is a very compelling and well-designed epic. Yet, it's so much more than that. It's also incredibly imaginative. Everything in the story seems alive and is described with organic or personifying language. Unlike in the novels or poems we're used to, man, hero, and God make up three separate forms of characterization. Some of these more fantastic elements are lost in translations; but, even with the most sterilized versions of the story, the creativity of the poet comes through.

As for Book I, what most strikes me is how emotionally-driven it is. Compare the tearful opening of this book to the action of the Iliad or the Odyssey. Even though there is action in Book I, you really don't feel scared or thrilled by it the way you do in Homer's epic. No, what captivates interest is Aeneus' despondency, Juno's anger, or Venus' concern. It's odd that in an epic, Virgil seems more interested in playing on my sympathy than he does on forming a exciting story.

Before I go any farther, I think I'm going to read back over some of the other points people have made. I want to make sure I'm not repeating something or going off on too much of a tangent.

[Virgil]

Could you give me some line citations for the passage you're thinking of, Virg.? I don't remember a point when Neptune miraculously reconstructs ships or brings people back to life. I thought he just calmed the seas and helped the remaining ships and survivors to shore. Maybe I'm forgetting though.


I couldn't find it by flipping through. I will have to re-read the book, which I had intended to do. So I'll get back to you on that.


I always have to fight my tendency to dismiss the Aeneid as merely derivative of Homer.
I always bristle when I hear that the Aeneid is merely a derivative. First of all, Homer was also working in a tradition of epics and because the others have not survived we don't know what Homer picked up from other epics and how much he derived. Second, there may not be a single Homer. It may be a conglamoration of oral poets, each aiding in the creation of masterpieces. Virgil is writing alone, not one to smooth out or edit rough spots. Third, Virgil is consciously using Homer as an allusion to add and contrast his epic, so there are reasons for paralleling Homer. Fourth the epic was the novel genre of their time. Just like today, we have a novel form, and centuries from now people will look back and see how similar our novels are, but we here today find it undiscernable.

[Virgil]

For example, I really enjoyed the prophecy by Jupiter in Book 1 recounting the sequence of events that will lead from Aeneas' son Iulus to Julius Caesar. Also, the interaction between the Trojans and Dido brings to mind the eventful history between Rome and Carthage.

Actually you read my mind. I wanted to focus in on this section. Let me put my typing skills to work and type out that section:


The Father of Men and Gods, smiling down on her [Venus]
with the glance that clears the sky and calms the tempest,
lightly kissing his daughter on the lips, replied:
"Relieve yourself of fear, my lady of Cythera,
the fate of your children stands unchanged, I swear.
You will see your promised city, see Lavininum's walls
and bear your great-hearted Aeneas up to the stars on high.
Nothing has changed my mind. No, your son, believe me--
since anguish is gnawing at you, I will tell you more,
unrolling the scroll of Fate
to reveal its darkest secrets. Aeneas will wage
a long, costly war in Italy, crush defiant tribes
and build high city walls for his people there
and found the rule of law. Only three summers
will see him govern Latium, three winters pass
in barracks after the Latins have been broken.
What I find interesting in that section is that Vrgil actually tells us the ending and projects into the future of Aeneas' after the epic, even though it's early in the first book. I don't recall Homer doing that in either epic, although I could be wrong. In effect Virgil has created a circle.

Let me continue that section. Jupiter is still speaking:


But his son Ascanius, now that he gains the name
of Iulus--Ilus he was, while Illium ruled on high--
will fill out with his own reign thirty soveriegn years,
a giant cycle of months revolving around and around,
transferring his rule from its old Lavinian home
to raise up Alba Longa's mighty ramparts.
I have always been confused with the name changes that Aeneas's son goes through. Why? I understand that Iulus becomes Julius, of the Julius Ceasar clan, but why doesn't he just start with that name and why is there the intermediate name of Ilus? Anyone understand that?

Jupiter continues:


There, in turn, for a full three hundred years
the dynasty of Hector will hold sway till Ilia,
a royal priestess great with the blood of Mars,
will bear the god twin sons. Then one, Romulus,
reveling in the tawny pelt of a wolf that nursed him,
will inheret the line and build the walls of Mars
and after his own name, call his people Romans.
What's interesting here as I think bluevictim said that Virgil links the Aeneid events with the legend and history of Rome. Interesting that Virgil refers the lineage as the dynasty of Hector. I had to look up that Aenaes's first wife Creusa, the mother of Iulus, is Hector's sister. But Virgil doesn't say the dynasty of Priam, their father and Troy's King, as I would have expected, but of Hector, the warrior.

Jupiter continues:


On them I set no limits, space or time:
I have granted them power, empire without end.
Even furious Juno, now plaguing the land and sea and sky
with terror: she will mend her ways and ways and hold dear with me
these Romans, lords of the earth, the race arrayed in togas.
This is my pleasure, my decree. Indeed, an age will come,
as the long years slip by, when Assaracus' royal house
will quell Achilles' homeland, brilliant Mycenae too,
and enslave their people, rule defeated Argus.
From that noble blood will arise a Trojan Caesar,
his empire bound by the ocean, his glory by the stars:
Julius, a name passed down from Iulus, his great forbear.
And you, in years to come, will welcome hm to the skies,
you rest assured--laden with plunder of the East,
and he with Aeneas will be invoked in prayer.
And Virgil brings it full into the present time and actually have the heirs of the Trojans revenge the fall of Troy by the Roman conquest of Greece. What is also interesting is that Aeneas and his son become gods in the heavens, as the emperors were to be, and as Augustus was considered a living god. We see here also the Roman devotion to their ancestors, the fore-fathers "invoked in prayer."

Jupiter concludes:


Then will the violent centuries, battles set aside,
grow gentle, kind. Vesta and silver-haired Good Faith
and Romulus flanked by brother Remus will make the laws.
The terrible Gates of War with their whicked iron bars
will stand bolted shut, and locked inside, the Frenzy
of civil strife will crouch down on his savage weapons,
hands pinioned behind his back with a hundred brazen shackles,
monstrously roaring out from his bloody jaws."

And so Virgil projects that all the wars and battles is a working toward a peaceful, lawful time. His day. It's a way to make sense of history and his own tumultuous times.

[stlukesguild]

I always bristle when I hear that the Aeneid is merely a derivative. First of all, Homer was also working in a tradition of epics and because the others have not survived we don't know what Homer picked up from other epics and how much he derived. Second, there may not be a single Homer. It may be a conglamoration of oral poets, each aiding in the creation of masterpieces. Virgil is writing alone, not one to smooth out or edit rough spots. Third, Virgil is consciously using Homer as an allusion to add and contrast his epic, so there are reasons for paralleling Homer. Fourth the epic was the novel genre of their time. Just like today, we have a novel form, and centuries from now people will look back and see how similar our novels are, but we here today find it undiscernable.

OK Virgil... I'll take your word for it. Just kidding.:D Seriously... I think that a large part of the problem with Virgil is that his book is often read quite soon after one has read Homer in most World Literature Surveys. I think that someone listening the Brahm's 1st Symphony immediately after Beethoven 9th Symphony might feel a similar sense of the work being "derivative". But then Brahm's 1st is a brilliant work of original music and not a poor man's Beethoven. The same holds true of Virgil. In all honesty, most art builds upon the examples of the artist's predecessors. In some cases these borrowings are obvious... in other instances they are far more oblique. Perhaps we might ask why Virgil would think to structure his masterwork so closely upon such a well-known and honored example. If Virgil is building upon Homer perhaps it may be of some worth to examine just why and where these borrowings take place (beside the obvious)... and where and why Virgil deviates from this model? Of course... as a painter... I might add that I don't know if I would be all that offended if someone started comparing my paintings to Rembrandt's:goof:

[grace86]

Goodness I am learning so much just by reading the posts, I haven't even begun to re-read it either!

[bluevictim]

By the way, I appreciated your hexameter. The muses of Lit. Net don't get invoked nearly enough. ;)Thanks! Now I'm eagerly waiting for an opportunity to start a thread with "Sing, siliconian Muses..." :)


I always bristle when I hear that the Aeneid is merely a derivative. First of all, Homer was also working in a tradition of epics and because the others have not survived we don't know what Homer picked up from other epics and how much he derived. Second, there may not be a single Homer. It may be a conglamoration of oral poets, each aiding in the creation of masterpieces. Virgil is writing alone, not one to smooth out or edit rough spots. Third, Virgil is consciously using Homer as an allusion to add and contrast his epic, so there are reasons for paralleling Homer. Fourth the epic was the novel genre of their time. Just like today, we have a novel form, and centuries from now people will look back and see how similar our novels are, but we here today find it undiscernable.Thanks for your thoughts on this. Just to clarify a little, I agree that the derivative nature of Virgil doesn't mean that one should dismiss it (which is why I fight my tendency to dismiss it :)). Also, by "Homer", I just mean the two epics, Iliad and Odyssey, whoever or whatever the composer or composers of those poems were. When I say I tend to dismiss the Aeneid as derivative, I'm not talking about Virgil the writer, but the Aeneid itself; it's a statement about my opinion of the poems themselves, not a judgment of the achievement of the poets.

In my opinion, Virgil's dependence on Homer goes deeper than just some parallels and allusions. Sometimes I even get the feeling that Virgil is trying to out-Homer Homer (but that's probably just me). I agree that it was deliberate, and that it doesn't mean that Virgil was not creative. It seems like parodying the Greeks just appealed to the taste of the Romans in general.

[Virgil]

Originally Posted by Petrarch's Love
Could you give me some line citations for the passage you're thinking of, Virg.? I don't remember a point when Neptune miraculously reconstructs ships or brings people back to life. I thought he just calmed the seas and helped the remaining ships and survivors to shore. Maybe I'm forgetting though.

I couldn't find it by flipping through. I will have to re-read the book, which I had intended to do. So I'll get back to you on that.


Petrarch I was wrong. I misread. I had thought all the ships were destroyed in the storm and when I saw that seven ships still sailing I jumped to the conclusion that they had been reconstituted. But no. Actually 20 ships are making the voyage and seven survive the storm. So apparently 13 ships are destroyed. Sorry about that.

[Quark]

I think that a large part of the problem with Virgil is that his book is often read quite soon after one has read Homer in most World Literature Surveys. I think that someone listening the Brahm's 1st Symphony immediately after Beethoven 9th Symphony might feel a similar sense of the work being "derivative".


In my opinion, Virgil's dependence on Homer goes deeper than just some parallels and allusions. Sometimes I even get the feeling that Virgil is trying to out-Homer Homer (but that's probably just me). I agree that it was deliberate, and that it doesn't mean that Virgil was not creative. It seems like parodying the Greeks just appealed to the taste of the Romans in general.

Is the poem really that unoriginal? In what ways do you think it's a copy? Both The Aeneid and The Odyssey have a similar plot. In The Odyssey people are on their way home, and in the Aeneid people are going to their homeland. So, I guess both are seafaring adventures with similar goals. And, it's true that both stories exist in the same universe with gods and the fall of Troy. But, the cast of characters is almost entirely different. The plot is also different because they don't know where there home is. Every time they land we're not sure whether this is where they will stay or not. I already pointed out one style difference between the Aeneid and Odyssey: one is more suspenseful and the other is much more sympathetic. Beyond this, The Aeneid has themes which bind the separate books together--whereas Homer's stories are more episodic.

[Virgil]

Is the poem really that unoriginal? In what ways do you think it's a copy? Both The Aeneid and The Odyssey have a similar plot. In The Odyssey people are on their way home, and in the Aeneid people are going to their homeland. So, I guess both are seafaring adventures with similar goals. And, it's true that both stories exist in the same universe with gods and the fall of Troy. But, the cast of characters is almost entirely different. The plot is also different because they don't know where there home is. Every time they land we're not sure whether this is where they will stay or not. I already pointed out one style difference between the Aeneid and Odyssey: one is more suspenseful and the other is much more sympathetic. Beyond this, The Aeneid has themes which bind the separate books together--whereas Homer's stories are more episodic.

Great points Quark. Right on as far as The Aeneid. I agree with everything you say except for that very last statement: "whereas Homer's stories are more episodic." Yes, The Odyssey is very episodic, but The Illiad is not. The Illiad is as complex a plot as any modern novel. I don't believe we will get as complex a plot as the Illiad well into the 18th or 19th centuries. As a structure it is quite remarkable.

[quasimodo1]

At the end of Book One, the reader in my opinion gets the sense that all has happened as was intimated by the text, man's and god's comments. This Pygmalion effect (something that is discussed today for the purpose of motive and method in corporate management) is in plainer terms called "the self-fulfilling prophecy". In many ways, the Aeneid becomes the blueprint for future Roman accomplishments and events; it is in many ways an epic that seems to make of itself the self-fulfilling prophecy but in a monumental way. I think you get of sense of this from these passages...[English trans. by Dryden...."Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate.
They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find;
Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind.
The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea
With prosp'rous winds; a woman leads the way.
I know not, if by stress of weather driv'n,
Or was their fatal course dispos'd by Heav'n;
At last they landed, where from far your eyes
May view the turrets of new Carthage rise;
There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa call'd,
From the bull's hide) they first inclos'd, and wall'd.
But whence are you? what country claims your birth?
What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth?"
To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes,
And deeply sighing, thus her son replies:
"Could you with patience hear, or I relate,
O nymph, the tedious annals of our fate!
Thro' such a train of woes if I should run,
The day would sooner than the tale be done!
From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came-
If you by chance have heard the Trojan name.
On various seas by various tempests toss'd,
At length we landed on your Libyan coast.
The good Aeneas am I call'd- a name,
While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame." ]
[http://classics.mit.edu/Virgil/aeneid.1.i.html] And the first part of this in the Latin .......... Book One, lines 361 to 380 approx. ["........Conveniunt quibus aut odium crudele tyranni/ aut metus acer erat; navis, quae forte paralae, / corripiunt onerantque auro. Portantur avari/ PYGMALIONIS opes pelago; dux femina facti. /Devenere locos ubi nunc ingentia cernes/ moenia surgentemque novae Karthaginis arcem, / mercatique solum, facti de nomine Byrsam, / taurino quantum possent circumdare tergo. / Sed vos qui tandem? Quibus aut venistis ab oris? / Quove tenetis iter? / Quarenti talibus ille / suspirans imoque trahens a pectore vocem: ...."]
The questions at the end of this Latin segment give a sense of Virgil's style not evident in the English. quasimodo1

[quasimodo1]

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/11/arts/11conn.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

[Quark]

Alright, I'm starting to catch up with the discussion now.


All the same, I think there's a very different sense about the God in Job versus the gods of the Aeneid. Even if you're focusing on the undoubted senseless cruelty of God in Job, or have a bit of trouble swallowing His answer (which I'm sure nearly all readers do, at least from time to time) I still think there's more of a sense that God is acting in a somewhat enigmatic or, to phrase it another way, an irrational fashion. Perhaps the difference that I'm really dancing around here, though is the nature of the relationship between man and the almighty. The God of Job is a creator, and as such there's this move to hold himself lofty and apart and unknowable, but at the same time he's really closer, more invested in man because it is His creation. The whole story is about hammering out this relationship between Creator and Created, and even the bet--though it could be attributed to God's ego--is caught up in proving something about the nature of man, which I think in some perverse way says something about His level of investment in man.

The gods of the Aeneid, on the other hand, do not make as much of an attempt to be so aloof or mysterious in their actions. They come down to earth, mingle with men, and are sometimes even the fathers and mothers of men. At the same time, however, the Virgilian gods, though they appear closer, also seem less invested in mankind in the way that God in Job is. Yes, they have their favorite cities and their favorite heroes etc., but there's more a sense that they have a whole social thing of their own going on around Olympus and that they mess around with human affairs like a game of chess. It’s clearer to everyone involved I think, what kind of relationship the gods have to man. By this I don't mean to say that the gods aren’t unpredictable and flighty, or that Aeneas might not be just as frustrated as Job, but that it’s fairly open that the gods do have this unpredictable toying relationship with men, whereas in Job there’s a lot more questioning going on about what exactly the relationship is. I think that’s probably more along the lines of what I was thinking when I said that Job doesn’t strike me as much as a plaything.

Yeah, I agree that the Judeo-Christian God of the Job story is a little different from the Pantheon of Gods in The Aeneid. The God of the Bible tests his prophets and tries to gradually enlighten them, whereas the divine cast of The Aeneid is interested in man as a tool to play out their own rivalries with other Gods. Though, I don't know if that makes the monotheistic one more distant from man than the polytheistic group. It seems like it's quite the other way around. Estrangement, distance, and hope for togetherness are major themes in The Aeneid, and this is played out in the Romans relationship with their Gods. Book I explains Aeneus' own separation from his mother, and Book II describes Troy being abandoned by its Gods. Compared to this, Job's God is pretty hands-on. This is one of the differences between Virgil's epic and the Bible. The characters in The Aeneid actively pursue and hope for contact with their Gods--who are elusive--and the people of the Bible are constantly sinning and forsaking their God, and God has to come down every other day setting things straight.


Yes, The Odyssey is very episodic, but The Illiad is not. The Illiad is as complex a plot as any modern novel. I don't believe we will get as complex a plot as the Illiad well into the 18th or 19th centuries. As a structure it is quite remarkable.

The Iliad is certainly intricate, but I don't think it's particularly thematic. The interest of the story is more on plot, action, mythos, or whatever you want to call it. In the last forty years, there has been a lot of criticism trying to discover some consistent themes in The Iliad, but I don't know if any of them have really been successful. None of this is an attack on the Iliad or anything pejorative, because (between you and me and everyone on LitNet) The Iliad is a way cooler story.


At the end of Book One, the reader in my opinion gets the sense that all has happened as was intimated by the text, man's and god's comments. This Pygmalion effect (something that is discussed today for the purpose of motive and method in corporate management) is in plainer terms called "the self-fulfilling prophecy". In many ways, the Aeneid becomes the blueprint for future Roman accomplishments and events; it is in many ways an epic that seems to make of itself the self-fulfilling prophecy but in a monumental way.

Much of Zeus' prophecy is actually history to Virgil. This is after much of Rome's conquest and expansion--they're 3-0 vs. the Carthaginians and almost perfect in their conference. The real forward-looking part of Zeus' vision is the claim that peace will follow Rome's wars. This actually turns out not to be so prescient. So, I'm not sure really if we can say this is a self-fulfilling prophecy since we can't even say that it's a fulfilled prophecy.

[Virgil]

The Iliad is certainly intricate, but I don't think it's particularly thematic. The interest of the story is more on plot, action, mythos, or whatever you want to call it. In the last forty years, there has been a lot of criticism trying to discover some consistent themes in The Iliad, but I don't know if any of them have really been successful. None of this is an attack on the Iliad or anything pejorative, because (between you and me and everyone on LitNet) The Iliad is a way cooler story.


What? :eek2: The themes of life and death and man's relationship to man and man;'s relationship to the gods is thematic throughout The Illiad. That commentary goes back centuries. And that's not even mentioning the themes of honor, leadership, and maturity. I don't know what commentary you're reading, but you might as well throw it out if it doesn't understand that. The Illiad is definitely thematic and consistant and a complete work of art. It is one of the greatest works of literary art ever composed.

[Quark]

What? :eek2: The themes of life and death and man's relationship to man and man;'s relationship to the gods is thematic throughout The Illiad. That commentary goes back centuries. And that's not even mentioning the themes of honor, leadership, and maturity. I don't know what commentary you're reading, but you might as well throw it out if it doesn't understand that. The Illiad is definitely thematic and consistant and a complete work of art. It is one of the greatest works of literary art ever composed.

We're dangerously close to getting into one of those semantics arguments again. I don't mean to say that The Iliad is a poor work of art, or that it doesn't have themes at all. The Iliad is perhaps the best epic ever, and it does have some important themes. When Agamemnon and Achilles have their conflict in Book I, we obviously are dealing with themes like loyalty to a group and personal needs. It's definitely a theme; but, once the conflict between the two characters is done, the theme is abandoned. In The Iliad, you're right there are themes, but they come and go with the action. This isn't a weakness of Homer--it's just what he does. In The Aeneid, themes recur and the reader is brought back to them. That's why I say that The Aeneid is thematically more "consistent". The isolation of the wander vs. the togetherness of a community is a theme in The Aeneid which keeps being brought up. It's originally triggered by the fall of Troy and Aeneus' search for a new home, but we're reminded of in many other ways. Aeneus' relationship with his mother, the contrast with Carthage, the separation Aeneus feels when he's in the cloud Venus gives him each bring back the theme. It isn't tied to a single event, but made into a running theme. This doesn't make Virgil superior to Homer. No, it's just how Virgil happens to write.

[Virgil]

We're dangerously close to getting into one of those semantics arguments again. I don't mean to say that The Iliad is a poor work of art, or that it doesn't have themes at all. The Iliad is perhaps the best epic ever, and it does have some important themes. When Agamemnon and Achilles have their conflict in Book I, we obviously are dealing with themes like loyalty to a group and personal needs. It's definitely a theme; but, once the conflict between the two characters is done, the theme is abandoned. In The Iliad, you're right there are themes, but they come and go with the action. This isn't a weakness of Homer--it's just what he does. In The Aeneid, themes recur and the reader is brought back to them. That's why I say that The Aeneid is thematically more "consistent". The isolation of the wander vs. the togetherness of a community is a theme in The Aeneid which keeps being brought up. It's originally triggered by the fall of Troy and Aeneus' search for a new home, but we're reminded of in many other ways. Aeneus' relationship with his mother, the contrast with Carthage, the separation Aeneus feels when he's in the cloud Venus gives him each bring back the theme. It isn't tied to a single event, but made into a running theme. This doesn't make Virgil superior to Homer. No, it's just how Virgil happens to write.

Well, I disagree about your assessment of The Illiad. But let's put that aside for another day. This thread is about The Aeneid.

[Janine]

Well, I disagree about your assessment of The Illiad. But let's put that aside for another day. This thread is about The Aeneid.

Yeah, is there really any need to compare these two great works? I think you should all stick to the story at hand, as you said Virgil, the Aeneid.

[bluevictim]

Is the poem really that unoriginal? In what ways do you think it's a copy? Both The Aeneid and The Odyssey have a similar plot. In The Odyssey people are on their way home, and in the Aeneid people are going to their homeland. So, I guess both are seafaring adventures with similar goals. And, it's true that both stories exist in the same universe with gods and the fall of Troy. But, the cast of characters is almost entirely different. The plot is also different because they don't know where there home is. Every time they land we're not sure whether this is where they will stay or not. I already pointed out one style difference between the Aeneid and Odyssey: one is more suspenseful and the other is much more sympathetic. Beyond this, The Aeneid has themes which bind the separate books together--whereas Homer's stories are more episodic.I agree that Virgil did not merely copy Homer, and thanks for pointing out some important differences between the Aeneid and the Odyssey. I know I've already said this, but since it seems I'm being taken the wrong way, let me emphasize again that I don't mean to accuse Virgil of being an unskilled copycat.

I do think that he used a lot of Homeric material; he took that material and transformed it to serve his own purposes, but it was Homeric material nonetheless. I don't think this is just an illusion of schoolboys reading the Aeneid for the first time after having just read Homer, and I don't think the dependence is merely due to being in the same genre (unless the genre being considered is precisely "works that are like Homer"), or to the typical interaction between works of art. Throughout the whole poem, Virgil begs the reader to compare the Aeneid with the Homeric epics.

To answer Quark's question, I'll start with some higher level examples. The Aeneid is organized in two parts. The first half (Books 1-6) relates the sea-faring journey of Aeneas and corresponds with the Odyssey. This is balanced by the second half (Books 7-12), whose main concern is fighting, corresponding to the Iliad. The plot incoporates many of the famous Homeric set pieces -- funeral games (Aen. 5 and Il. 23), a visit to Hades (Aen. 6 and Od. 11), an extensive list of combatants (Aen. 7 and Il. 2), an elaborate shield made by Vulcan for the hero (Aen. 8 and Il. 18), a night raid (Aen. 9 and Il. 10). Some examples of how the style is also often imitative of Homer are the long speeches, the use of epithets (like "faithful Orontes" in Book 1 line 113) and the occurrence throughout the poem of striking and elaborate similes (like Book 1 lines 430-436) after the pattern established by Homer.

Besides these more obvious examples, the Aeneid is full of plot parallels, verbal echoes (or direct quotes), and allusions to Homer (to the extent that finding these parallels is basically an industry in itself). I'll give some examples from Book 1 (since most people have probably read that far by now):

The reminiscence of the opening of the Odyssey in the opening lines of the Aeneid has already been pointed out earlier in this thread.

The poem begins in the middle of the action, as do both the Iliad and the Odyssey.

In lines 37-156, Juno gives an angry soliloquy and then causes a storm to wreak havoc on the Trojans. This makes Aeneas wish he had died in the Trojan war, calling those who did "three and four times blessed". Finally, Neptune calms the storm. In Book 5 of the Odyssey (lines 286-387), Poseidon gives an angry soliloquy and then causes a storm to rage against Odysseus. This causes Odysseus to wish he had died in the Trojan war, calling those who did "three and four times blessed". Eventually, Athena calms the storm.

Line 198 is a translation of line 208 of Book 12 of the Odyssey.

In lines 314-368, Aeneas meets the goddess Venus disguised as a huntress and Venus tells him the story of the people of the land he is in. In Book 7 of the Odyssey, Odysseus meets the goddess Athena disguised as a girl carrying a pitcher and she tells him the story of the people of the land (lines 18-77).

In lines 411-508, Aeneas walks through Carthage enveloped in a mist, amazed at the sights. In lines 81-141 of Book 7 of the Odyssey, Odysseus walks through Phaeacia enveloped in a mist, amazed at the sights.

At the end of Book 1, Dido asks Aeneas to tell the story of his wanderings, which he does as she listens, just as King Alcinous asks Odysseus to tell the story of his wanderings at the end of Book 8 of the Odyssey, which Odysseus does as King Alcinous listens.

[bluevictim]

Yeah, is there really any need to compare these two great works? I think you should all stick to the story at hand, as you said Virgil, the Aeneid.I guess I'm one of the main culprits. Like I said, I think that the Aeneid invites comparison with the Homeric epics, so I think these comparisons are relevant in a discussion about the Aeneid. Hopefully there are others who find these remarks useful, as well.

I understand that this is by no means the only approach to the Aeneid, and that some people would prefer to take the poem on its own terms. I sincerely hope that no one feels crowded out by the posts making comparisons with Homer, but I also hope that this line of discussion can continue.

[Petrarch's Love]

I always bristle when I hear that the Aeneid is merely a derivative. First of all, Homer was also working in a tradition of epics and because the others have not survived we don't know what Homer picked up from other epics and how much he derived. Second, there may not be a single Homer. It may be a conglamoration of oral poets, each aiding in the creation of masterpieces. Virgil is writing alone, not one to smooth out or edit rough spots. Third, Virgil is consciously using Homer as an allusion to add and contrast his epic, so there are reasons for paralleling Homer. Fourth the epic was the novel genre of their time. Just like today, we have a novel form, and centuries from now people will look back and see how similar our novels are, but we here today find it undiscernable.


OK Virgil... I'll take your word for it. Just kidding. Seriously... I think that a large part of the problem with Virgil is that his book is often read quite soon after one has read Homer in most World Literature Surveys. I think that someone listening the Brahm's 1st Symphony immediately after Beethoven 9th Symphony might feel a similar sense of the work being "derivative". But then Brahm's 1st is a brilliant work of original music and not a poor man's Beethoven. The same holds true of Virgil. In all honesty, most art builds upon the examples of the artist's predecessors. In some cases these borrowings are obvious... in other instances they are far more oblique. Perhaps we might ask why Virgil would think to structure his masterwork so closely upon such a well-known and honored example. If Virgil is building upon Homer perhaps it may be of some worth to examine just why and where these borrowings take place (beside the obvious)... and where and why Virgil deviates from this model? Of course... as a painter... I might add that I don't know if I would be all that offended if someone started comparing my paintings to Rembrandt's



Thanks for your thoughts on this. Just to clarify a little, I agree that the derivative nature of Virgil doesn't mean that one should dismiss it (which is why I fight my tendency to dismiss it :)). Also, by "Homer", I just mean the two epics, Iliad and Odyssey, whoever or whatever the composer or composers of those poems were. When I say I tend to dismiss the Aeneid as derivative, I'm not talking about Virgil the writer, but the Aeneid itself; it's a statement about my opinion of the poems themselves, not a judgment of the achievement of the poets.

In my opinion, Virgil's dependence on Homer goes deeper than just some parallels and allusions. Sometimes I even get the feeling that Virgil is trying to out-Homer Homer (but that's probably just me). I agree that it was deliberate, and that it doesn't mean that Virgil was not creative. It seems like parodying the Greeks just appealed to the taste of the Romans in general.

Thought I'd jump in on this exchange. I'm responding to all similar posts on the topic, but only quote the above due to space concerns. I think (if Janine will forgive us ;) ) that everyone's zeroing on an important and interesting question about the relationship between Virgil and his most famous predecessor, Homer. One of my advisers, who is a fairly well known scholar of epic literature, likes to start out his lectures on the Aeneid by saying that the first half is a replay of the Odyssey, and the second half is a replay of the Iliad. Of course my adviser is intentionally simplifying things a bit for effect, and of course there are many ways in which the Aeneid sets itself apart from the Homeric epics, but this is not actually such a bad way to begin thinking about it. (Before going further, since I know on these forums there are a wide range of ages and levels of reading experience I thought it might be helpful to quickly start off by pointing out that Homer's Iliad and Odyssey are primary or oral epics, which are generally considered to have emerged from an oral story telling tradition. By contrast Virgil's Aeneid is a secondary or literary epic, which means that it is a work that both comes after and is responding to an established written tradition. It's possible that we're touching a little here on a topic of debate that was rather popular among scholars near the turn of the 20th century as to whether there was something possibly more "authentic" about the primary epic. At any rate, just thought I should float those terms out there for people who may be reading and not have come across them before.)

One thing that may be going on in the discussion here is that our current age is one that tends to place a value on art relative to its originality. Our discussion about Virgil's use of Homeric material is starting out with the use of words like "copy" or "derivitive" that are making our Virg. bristle.:p I think for our culture there is a general sense that "copying" rather than inventing material from whole cloth is a negative thing, and so it is pretty common that people will see the type of adaptation that Virgil is doing in the Aeneid and feel there is something negative about the "copying" going on that needs to be either attacked or defended against. As I say, I think this is partly to do with a certain modern sensibility of art and creativity linked with originality. For example, I frequently find that people are surprised, and often even dismayed when they first discover that Shakespeare copied the stories and plots of most of his plays from other sources because it doesn't really align with a contemporary post romantic concept of originality being the defining feature of a great artist.

Both Virg. and St. Luke's talked a little bit above about Virgil referring back to Homer as a part of a tradition which he is adapting and changing in his own work. I certainly think this is a nice summation of what is going on, and there is no doubt that Virgil is doing something new of his own in a breathtaking fashion rather than just regurgitating Homer. However, I would like to take it one step further from simply saying that Virgil is alluding to the past example of Homer. BlueVictim makes an excellent point when he points to a sense that Virgil is trying to "out-Homer Homer." I think there is little doubt that Virgil was making a conscious effort both to imitate and to surpass Homer. He set out to do a version of both the Odyssey and the Iliad streamlined into a single work, rendered in the most elegant possible Latin verse, and aimed at illustrating the glory of both the Latin language and Rome itself. One reason for this was as a way of establishing that Latin literature could do as well as the illustrious Greeks. The Romans in general were very interested in both adapting and improving the strengths of the previously successful Greek culture and arts, and Virgil was certainly no exception to this.

Indeed, it was this aspect of Virgil that scholars and critics of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance were most interested in. The medieval terms translatio imperii (transfer or translation of empire) and translatio studii (transfer or translation of knowledge or culture) are useful for describing the Medieval/Renaissance view of Virgil. Translatio imperii refers to the theory that empire was transferred in a linear fashion through history beginning with the transfer of power from Greece to Rome. Closely associated with, and vitally important to this transfer of power was the transfer of culture or study (translatio studii). The idea is that one part of a successful empire is the successful translation of the artistic triumphs of the previous empire into the current empire (in the case of literature sometimes literally translation in the modern sense). In accordance with this view of history, scholars of the Renaissance saw one of Virgil’s great achievements being the way he copied Homer or, more precisely, the way he imitated Homer. Imitation, or the Latin term imitatio (which has slightly stronger connotations than the English term) was seen as a key component of artistic production. Rather than viewing imitation as a potential charge for lack of originality, Late Medieval and Renaissance scholars tended to view this as a successful transference of the power of Homer to the Latin language. Indeed, in the same way that Italy, France and England each vied to establish themselves as the next in the line of translatio imperii to inherit the power of the glory that was Rome, so the epic poets writing in Italian, French and English all did their best to imitate the Aeneid as a way of placing both themselves and their homeland as next in the line of translatio studii to inherit the glory that was Latin poetry. A significant portion of the amazing production of literature in the Renaissance period was spurred by the desire to out-Virgil Virgil in the same way that he had out-Homered Homer. Thus, in a previous time there was a deeply felt sense that successful art was not only unhindered by a direct imitation of previous works, but that on a profound level the success of art hinged on it being an imitation, sometimes even a near copy of a previous work, but translated (and if possible improved upon) for a new place and purpose. As I said above, I think this is a rather different philosophy about art and originality than the one we see most frequently in our own culture.

[Janine]

Petrarch's Love, I applaud your excellent explanation of this idea of one work suggesting another work, one work being basically derrived from a preceeding work; this whole notion of originality verses copying, as a concept looked on much differently in early literary works than it is in today's society. You layed out these ideas very well, making this concept clear, backing it up historically with examples such as Shakespeare's plays, and giving the contraversy full consideration, in order to put things into their proper perspective. Thanks so much for taking the time to write this very helpful post.

[Virgil]

I agree that Virgil did not merely copy Homer, and thanks for pointing out some important differences between the Aeneid and the Odyssey. I know I've already said this, but since it seems I'm being taken the wrong way, let me emphasize again that I don't mean to accuse Virgil of being an unskilled copycat.

I do think that he used a lot of Homeric material; he took that material and transformed it to serve his own purposes, but it was Homeric material nonetheless.

Blue, like i said before perhaps differently, Homer had a lot of "Homeric" material at hand. You assume that Homer's epics were the first, and mostly likly that is untrue. Such epics were the "novel" of its day, hundreds of these oral epics. And from what we've gathered they were all similar in nature. This is similar to how blues songs all work with similar material today. Virgil was working within the tradition of epic. Yes he's alluding to Homer, but there are other similar epics that constitute a form from which all epics are to be shaped. A great book on the subject is The Singer of Tales, by Albert Lord. Also check out studies by Milman Perry.

edit: I wrote the above before reading Petrach's post, and yes she presents a good literary understanding of Virgil and his tradition. What I find sometimes missing from the established literary critical approach is an understanding of how oral folklore, from which Homer was a part of and presumably not the first in that tradition, established the tradition and how it sythesized into a form. The Homeric epics were exclusively oral works. And the major distinction between Homer and Virgil is that Virgil is consciously writing an epic rather than singing one. The nature of constituting art from an illiterate, as Homer probably was, to a literate is dramatically different. Virgil has a synthesized form at hand and in the act of writing rather than singing uses and veers from the form as he consciously can, in the process of editing, do. Plus the epics of Homer were undoubtedly a reworking of other people's epics, even if Homer was a single person, which we don't know. If anyone has the opportunity to take a class roughly called Folklore and Literature, I highly recommend it. It completely changed the nature of how I look at literature and writers and writing. If not check out the works of Lord and Perry and other folklorists. I did two excellent papers (I got "A's" on them ;) ) for that class, now that I remember. One on the evolving role of the hero and another on the evolving nature of Scotish oral ballads, in particular, "Sir Patrick Spence." Unfortunately those papers were before personal computers and I don't have them digitally to share.

[Virgil]

Let's get back to Book 1 of the Aeneid. There's one more thing I find interesting here, and that is Dido. We are first introduced to her. Venus, in disguise, tells Aeneas of Dido's history:


"What you see is a Punic Kingdom, people of Tyre
and Agenor's town, but the border's held by Libyans
hard to break in war. Phoenician Dido is in command,
she sailed from Tyre, in flight from her own brother.
Oh it's a long tale of crime, long, twisting, dark,
but I'll try to trace the high points in their order..."(l. 411-7)
And Venus goes on to tell the story of Dido was married to Sychaeus, "the richest man in Tyre" and how her brother Pygmalion, "a monster, the vilest man around" slaughtered Sychaeus for "lust [of his] gold". And Sychaeus comes back in a dream to Dido to warn her of her brother and to take flight.

"Driven by all this,
Dido plans her escape, collects her followers
fired by savage hate of the tyrant or bitter fear.
They seize some galleys set to sail, load them with gold--
the wealth Pygmalion craved--and they bear it overseas
and a woman leads them all. Reaching this haven here,
where now you will see the steep ramparts rising,
the new city of Carthage--the Tyrians purchased land as
large as a bull's-hide could enclose but cut in strips for size
and called it Byrsa, the Hide, for the spread they bought. (l. 437-48)
Two things I find interesting there. One that a woman can have such leadership ability in an ancient text. It's interesting to note that Roman women, while they did not hold office or command an army, had much more freedom than their Greek counterparts. And Virgil doesn't feel uncomfortable creating a strong female character. Second and more important is the parallel histroy that she has with Aeneas. Both are fleeing their home lands, albeit for dfferent reasons, and where some injustice has occured to them. Both have lost a spouse and are probably around middle age. And both have voyaged out searching for a new homeland. Another interesting thing that we keep coming across is the walls of a city. It seems as if Virgil is obssessed with it. The walls of Carthage, the walls of Alba Longa, the walls of Rome. And of course the torn walls of Troy.

Prior to meeting Dido, Aeneas comes across Dido's temple to Juno, where is spread in what I assume are reliefs a pictorial of the events of the Trojan War. Aeneas sees Achilles and Priam and Hector and even himself in various scenes. I find this interesting too. What's usually made of this is that the Trojan War has entered mythic history. What I find interesting is the pictorial representation. In the Illiad there is Achilles's shield that has a series of pictorial representations, but this sequence of reliefs (the pictorial history of a war or important event) seem much more a Roman art form rather than Greek. Perhaps someone can correct me there. This sort of representation would find it's most famous example in the pictorial representation of Trajan's victories over the Dacians, sculpted on Trajan's Arch of about a hundred years after Virgil.

And finally the first meeting of Dido and Aeneas is most interesting. Yes, Venus has Cupid induce her with love for Aeneas. But what I find interesting is that what she finds endearing of Aeneas is how he has suffered, the defeat at Troy and the burdens he has endured, not so much his triumphs or good looks. This strikes me as a very mature sort of love, where she sees the humanity inside him. I also find interesting that when she asks him to recite his history and that of Troy:

...So Dido, doomed,
was lengthening out the night by trading tales
as she drank long draughts of love--asking Aeneas
question on question, now about Priam, now Hector,
what armor Memnon, son of Morning, wore at Troy,
how swift were the horses od Diomedes? How strong was Acilles?
"Wait, come, my guest," she urges, "tell us your own story,
start to finish--the ambush laid by the Greeks, the pain
your people suffered, the wanderings you have faced.
For now is the seventh summer that has borne you
wandering all the lands and seas on earth." (l. 898-908)

What i find interesting there is that all she mentions are things that men would be interested, of armor and horses and ambushes and wanderings. No question of how beautiful Helen was or what type of dress she wore, or Andromache's love for Hector. The only femine question is that of the pain of suffering, but that's not necessarily femine. Is this Virgil losing sight of a female character or is Dido so masculanized by the fact that she is a leader of a city that she has masculine interests? I don't know. I tend to think Vigil misses it here, but we the reader must accept what the author creates as if he were perfect.

Next onto Book 2 for me. Let me just say that Book 2 is my favorite of all The Aeneid. In the past it has literally brought tears to my eyes, and I don't tear very easy from literature. And I just glanced into Fagles's Book 2 and already my eyes were watering. ;) So stay tuned.

[bluevictim]

Blue, like i said before perhaps differently, Homer had a lot of "Homeric" material at hand. You assume that Homer's epics were the first, and mostly likly that is untrue. Such epics were the "novel" of its day, hundreds of these oral epics. And from what we've gathered they were all similar in nature. This is similar to how blues songs all work with similar material today. Virgil was working within the tradition of epic. Yes he's alluding to Homer, but there are other similar epics that constitute a form from which all epics are to be shaped. A great book on the subject is The Singer of Tales, by Albert Lord. Also check out studies by Milman Perry.

edit: I wrote the above before reading Petrach's post, and yes she presents a good literary understanding of Virgil and his tradition. What I find sometimes missing from the established literary critical approach is an understanding of how oral folklore, from which Homer was a part of and presumably not the first in that tradition, established the tradition and how it sythesized into a form. The Homeric epics were exclusively oral works. And the major distinction between Homer and Virgil is that Virgil is consciously writing an epic rather than singing one. The nature of constituting art from an illiterate, as Homer probably was, to a literate is dramatically different. Virgil has a synthesized form at hand and in the act of writing rather than singing uses and veers from the form as he consciously can, in the process of editing, do. Plus the epics of Homer were undoubtedly a reworking of other people's epics, even if Homer was a single person, which we don't know. If anyone has the opportunity to take a class roughly called Folklore and Literature, I highly recommend it. It completely changed the nature of how I look at literature and writers and writing. If not check out the works of Lord and Perry and other folklorists. I did two excellent papers (I got "A's" on them ;) ) for that class, now that I remember. One on the evolving role of the hero and another on the evolving nature of Scotish oral ballads, in particular, "Sir Patrick Spence." Unfortunately those papers were before personal computers and I don't have them digitally to share.

I'm sorry that I did not make this clear, but I did not mean to make any assertion about the originality of the Homeric epics (and I'm unable to figure out where you think I made the assumption that the Homeric epics were the first). For my part, I seem to be misunderstanding what you mean with your comparison to novels and the tradition in which Virgil was working in. At first I thought that you were saying Virgil's similarities to Homer are not much more significant than one novel's (say War and Peace) similarities to another (say Les Miserables), but maybe what you meant to say was that Virgil was borrowing from the whole tradition of which the Homeric epics were merely one (or two) of hundreds, so saying that Virgil is derivative of Homer would be like saying Steinbeck is derivative of Dickens when Steinbeck is no more derivative of Dickens than of Austen.

In any case, I thought I'd expand a little on these thoughts to try to make them clearer, and maybe there are actually other people besides me who are interested in these things (you never know :)).

First, here's an oversimplified summary for those who are unfamiliar with the work of Lord and Parry. For a while, it was popular to explain some of the problems in the Homeric epics by postulating that they were the result of sewing together many smaller existing poems, like a quilt. In the '30s, Parry found that the problems were better explained by understanding the Iliad and the Odyssey to be composed of pre-made formulas, phrases of various length designed to fit the metrical structure, kind of like a model made of Lego. He also reasoned that these formulas (the Lego bricks) were so numerous and well developed that they could not have been produced by any one poet, but they must have been the result of a well established oral tradition. Thus, the Homeric epics were not "original" because the basic formulas were pre-made, and longer passages were probably reused as well (in the Lego analogy, "Homer" may have made the tires of his Lego car the same way that others made their tires). Parry later studied living Serbian oral poets and found a lot of further evidence to support his theory and also some additional insights. His work was continued by Lord, and their results have influenced Homeric studies ever since.

So, that's a basic picture of the situation around the 8th century BC (poets composing orally from a body of pre-made formulas). In the 7th and 6th centuries, the oral tradition from which the Homeric epics sprang basically died out. By the 5th century, the Homeric epics had been recorded in writing, and Homer was The Poet (definitely not one of hundreds all alike), and from that point on, every Greek poet was influenced by Homer. Other epic poems were preserved, but none of them came close to the Homeric epics in reputation.

All of this is to say that there is a real sense in which the Aeneid, which wasn't written until the first century BC, is derivative from the Homeric epics. Virgil was definitely not working in Homer's epic tradition, and I highly doubt that Virgil's Homericisms were meant to recall any other than the Homeric epics (but of course the Aeneid borrows from other sources as well, to a much lesser degree). The borrowing from Homer of Virgil was completely unlike the borrowing of Homer from the oral epic tradition. In fact, Parry explicitly ruled out the kind of deliberate borrowing that Virgil engaged in from his definition of 'formula'. Like I said, every Greek poem was borrowing from Homer as well, but in my opinion, the Aeneid's imitation was even more blatant than those.

Anyways, I'm sorry that this post was more about Homer than about the Aeneid. Since the topic of Homer's oral tradition came up, I thought I'd give it a fuller expression and try to relate it to the discussion here about the Aeneid, in case anybody out there might find it interesting.

[bluevictim]

Two things I find interesting there. One that a woman can have such leadership ability in an ancient text. It's interesting to note that Roman women, while they did not hold office or command an army, had much more freedom than their Greek counterparts. And Virgil doesn't feel uncomfortable creating a strong female character.In this regard, it may be interesting to compare and (perhaps mostly) contrast Dido with Aeschylus' Clytemnestra and Euripides' Medea, two Greek "manly" women in serious literature, and Aristophanes' Lysistrata. In Aeschylus' Agamemnon, Clytemnestra is clearly in charge of Agamemnon's house, even though Aigisthos was around, and she is the one who kills Agamemnon. In Euripides' Medea, we find Medea making many of the claims on Jason typically reserved for men in terms of oaths-keeping and honor. In Aristophanes' Lysistrata, the women, led by Lysistrata, are sick of war and decide to go on sexual strike to get the men to end it (and they succeed). It's also interesting that the last picture described on the wall of the temple, just before Aeneas sees Dido, is Penthesileia and her Amazon warriors.


Prior to meeting Dido, Aeneas comes across Dido's temple to Juno, where is spread in what I assume are reliefs a pictorial of the events of the Trojan War. Aeneas sees Achilles and Priam and Hector and even himself in various scenes.A couple of details about Rhesus and Troilus may shed some light on Virgil's choice of scenes to include. It was prophesied that Troy would not fall if the horses of Rhesus crops the grass of Troy and drinks from the river Xanthus. It was also prophesied that if Troilus lives to twenty then Troy would not fall (he didn't make it to twenty because Achilles killed him).


And finally the first meeting of Dido and Aeneas is most interesting. Yes, Venus has Cupid induce her with love for Aeneas.

The romance between Aeneas and Dido is reminiscent of the romance between Jason and Medea in Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica. In that epic, Aphrodite (Venus) gets Eros (Cupid) to make Medea fall in love with Jason to help him with his heroic quest.


But what I find interesting is that what she finds endearing of Aeneas is how he has suffered, the defeat at Troy and the burdens he has endured, not so much his triumphs or good looks. This strikes me as a very mature sort of love, where she sees the humanity inside him. I also find interesting that when she asks him to recite his history and that of Troy:Another aspect of Dido that I find very complicated is how Virgil seems to portray her rather sympathetically, but I also find this section to be full of irony, especially in light of the hostile relationship between Rome and Carthage.

For example, Aeneas finds solace (lines 450-453) at the temple of Juno, while beguiled by the depictions of scenes from the Trojan war. The temple, that is, of the very goddess that has it in for him! (perhaps he doesn't know whose temple it is) And the scenes are the scenes of the destruction of Troy, which build up in cruelty to the climax of Hector's corpse being dragged around the the city walls three times (even worse than in the Iliad). A hint of the hostility between the Romans and the Carthaginians can be seen when the missing Trojans arrive and reveal that the Carthaginians were burning their ships.

On the other hand the story of Dido's past seems to make her a sympathetic character, and her kingdom seems to be well ordered and successful despite hardship. Indeed, Dido treats Aeneas and his men very well (albeit that is partially due to the machinations of Venus) and sympathizes with his plight.

[Petrarch's Love]

Blue, like i said before perhaps differently, Homer had a lot of "Homeric" material at hand. You assume that Homer's epics were the first, and mostly likly that is untrue. Such epics were the "novel" of its day, hundreds of these oral epics. And from what we've gathered they were all similar in nature. This is similar to how blues songs all work with similar material today. Virgil was working within the tradition of epic. Yes he's alluding to Homer, but there are other similar epics that constitute a form from which all epics are to be shaped. A great book on the subject is The Singer of Tales, by Albert Lord. Also check out studies by Milman Perry.

edit: I wrote the above before reading Petrach's post, and yes she presents a good literary understanding of Virgil and his tradition. What I find sometimes missing from the established literary critical approach is an understanding of how oral folklore, from which Homer was a part of and presumably not the first in that tradition, established the tradition and how it sythesized into a form. The Homeric epics were exclusively oral works. And the major distinction between Homer and Virgil is that Virgil is consciously writing an epic rather than singing one. The nature of constituting art from an illiterate, as Homer probably was, to a literate is dramatically different...

Virg.--Thanks for bringing up a little more on the differences between the oral and the literary epic and rightly pointing out that Homer himself was not entirely "original" either. I don't quite understand why you think the established literary approach leaves out the consideration of oral folklore in relation to Homer, since the oral roots of epic is usually where any good professor would begin a course on epic literature, and certainly there has been a great deal of literary criticism written regarding folktales and oral tradition. My post above didn't really touch on that because I thought everyone was more interested in what Virgil was doing with Homer rather than where Homer had come from, not because I didn't think the synthesis of the Homeric epic was important. Anyway, it seems that Blue is also familiar with some theories of Homeric origins and has given a nice little summation of the Parry-Lord oral theory, so I think we can safely assume now that everyone's on the same page and proceed to discuss Book I in more depth. (That is, unless anyone is really interested in further discussion regarding the differences between the type of adaptation going on in Homer versus the type of adaptation being undertaken by Virgil.)


Petrarch's Love, I applaud your excellent explanation of this idea of one work suggesting another work, one work being basically derrived from a preceeding work; this whole notion of originality verses copying, as a concept looked on much differently in early literary works than it is in today's society. You layed out these ideas very well, making this concept clear, backing it up historically with examples such as Shakespeare's plays, and giving the contraversy full consideration, in order to put things into their proper perspective. Thanks so much for taking the time to write this very helpful post.

Janine--Thanks. I'm glad the post was helpful to you. :)


Let's get back to Book 1 of the Aeneid. There's one more thing I find interesting here, and that is Dido.
Yes indeed, back to Book 1 with us! I'd love to discuss Dido some more, and looks like you and Blue already have some good observations going, but I must get some rest for now and post on the morrow...

[Virgil]

I'm sorry that I did not make this clear, but I did not mean to make any assertion about the originality of the Homeric epics (and I'm unable to figure out where you think I made the assumption that the Homeric epics were the first). For my part, I seem to be misunderstanding what you mean with your comparison to novels and the tradition in which Virgil was working in. At first I thought that you were saying Virgil's similarities to Homer are not much more significant than one novel's (say War and Peace) similarities to another (say Les Miserables), but maybe what you meant to say was that Virgil was borrowing from the whole tradition of which the Homeric epics were merely one (or two) of hundreds, so saying that Virgil is derivative of Homer would be like saying Steinbeck is derivative of Dickens when Steinbeck is no more derivative of Dickens than of Austen.

Well, I'm saying both, now that you made me think of the distinction. Virgil is emulating the epic form like novelists are emulating the novel form. But also Virgil is using a very specific type of epic (actually two types) a journey epic and a war epic, like like a historical novelists uses a particular type of novel form or a bildingsroman uses a particular type of novel form. The forms are there in the culture.


First, here's an oversimplified summary for those who are unfamiliar with the work of Lord and Parry. For a while, it was popular to explain some of the problems in the Homeric epics by postulating that they were the result of sewing together many smaller existing poems, like a quilt. In the '30s, Parry found that the problems were better explained by understanding the Iliad and the Odyssey to be composed of pre-made formulas, phrases of various length designed to fit the metrical structure, kind of like a model made of Lego. He also reasoned that these formulas (the Lego bricks) were so numerous and well developed that they could not have been produced by any one poet, but they must have been the result of a well established oral tradition. Thus, the Homeric epics were not "original" because the basic formulas were pre-made, and longer passages were probably reused as well (in the Lego analogy, "Homer" may have made the tires of his Lego car the same way that others made their tires). Parry later studied living Serbian oral poets and found a lot of further evidence to support his theory and also some additional insights. His work was continued by Lord, and their results have influenced Homeric studies ever since.

So, that's a basic picture of the situation around the 8th century BC (poets composing orally from a body of pre-made formulas). In the 7th and 6th centuries, the oral tradition from which the Homeric epics sprang basically died out. By the 5th century, the Homeric epics had been recorded in writing, and Homer was The Poet (definitely not one of hundreds all alike), and from that point on, every Greek poet was influenced by Homer. Other epic poems were preserved, but none of them came close to the Homeric epics in reputation.

Oh I'm glad you're familiar with Lord and Perry. There is more to the oral tradition and folklore than just the formulaic passages. Oral tradition also incorporates form and story and plot. Just look at how similar joke forms are. Anyway, my point is that Homer had the plot and story line already at hand from other oral epics. There wasn't just one epic about the Trojan war with the characters of Odysseus and Achilles and so forth, but dozens. Homer, if there was only one Homer, which is indispute, had various plots and character formations and events and scenes already created for him. He perhpas chose which to put in, and perhaps vary. No different than Virgil. So those that say that Virgil is derivative (and i guess this discussion started when you mentioned the often commented issue that Virgil is derivative) must acknowledge that Homer was probably even more derivative from his culture.


All of this is to say that there is a real sense in which the Aeneid, which wasn't written until the first century BC, is derivative from the Homeric epics. Virgil was definitely not working in Homer's epic tradition, and I highly doubt that Virgil's Homericisms were meant to recall any other than the Homeric epics (but of course the Aeneid borrows from other sources as well, to a much lesser degree). The borrowing from Homer of Virgil was completely unlike the borrowing of Homer from the oral epic tradition.
Are you saying that there were no epics of the Trojan war with the Trojan characters before Homer? If you're saying that, I completely disagree.


In fact, Parry explicitly ruled out the kind of deliberate borrowing that Virgil engaged in from his definition of 'formula'.
Absolutely. Again I'm not talking about formulaic phrasings, but of story and characters.

[Virgil]

In this regard, it may be interesting to compare and (perhaps mostly) contrast Dido with Aeschylus' Clytemnestra and Euripides' Medea, two Greek "manly" women in serious literature, and Aristophanes' Lysistrata. In Aeschylus' Agamemnon, Clytemnestra is clearly in charge of Agamemnon's house, even though Aigisthos was around, and she is the one who kills Agamemnon. In Euripides' Medea, we find Medea making many of the claims on Jason typically reserved for men in terms of oaths-keeping and honor. In Aristophanes' Lysistrata, the women, led by Lysistrata, are sick of war and decide to go on sexual strike to get the men to end it (and they succeed). It's also interesting that the last picture described on the wall of the temple, just before Aeneas sees Dido, is Penthesileia and her Amazon warriors.

Good points. None of those women however actually lead nations or cities, but they are strong women.


Another aspect of Dido that I find very complicated is how Virgil seems to portray her rather sympathetically, but I also find this section to be full of irony, especially in light of the hostile relationship between Rome and Carthage.

For example, Aeneas finds solace (lines 450-453) at the temple of Juno, while beguiled by the depictions of scenes from the Trojan war. The temple, that is, of the very goddess that has it in for him! (perhaps he doesn't know whose temple it is) And the scenes are the scenes of the destruction of Troy, which build up in cruelty to the climax of Hector's corpse being dragged around the the city walls three times (even worse than in the Iliad). A hint of the hostility between the Romans and the Carthaginians can be seen when the missing Trojans arrive and reveal that the Carthaginians were burning their ships.

On the other hand the story of Dido's past seems to make her a sympathetic character, and her kingdom seems to be well ordered and successful despite hardship. Indeed, Dido treats Aeneas and his men very well (albeit that is partially due to the machinations of Venus) and sympathizes with his plight.
Yes, that crossed my mind too. If Virgil is simply using Dido as a stand in for the Carthaginians, he has to make them a worthy adversary. They did push the Romans to the point of extinction. A fighter beating an amateur is no big deal; but a fighter beating a champion is a glorious victory. So the Carthginians have to be seen as well ordered and tough. I think I quoted a line where the Lybians were strong soldiers or something to that effect. On the other hand Virgil is also faced with the need to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido and so be deterred from his mission. So Dido has to be sympathetic too.

[Virgil]

Virg.--Thanks for bringing up a little more on the differences between the oral and the literary epic and rightly pointing out that Homer himself was not entirely "original" either. I don't quite understand why you think the established literary approach leaves out the consideration of oral folklore in relation to Homer, since the oral roots of epic is usually where any good professor would begin a course on epic literature, and certainly there has been a great deal of literary criticism written regarding folktales and oral tradition.

:lol: Well, you know how anti-establishment I am. :D

[bluevictim]

Well, I'm saying both, now that you made me think of the distinction. Virgil is emulating the epic form like novelists are emulating the novel form. But also Virgil is using a very specific type of epic (actually two types) a journey epic and a war epic, like like a historical novelists uses a particular type of novel form or a bildingsroman uses a particular type of novel form. The forms are there in the culture.

...

Oh I'm glad you're familiar with Lord and Perry. There is more to the oral tradition and folklore than just the formulaic passages. Oral tradition also incorporates form and story and plot. Just look at how similar joke forms are. Thanks for clarifying. It seems like you are saying that the parallels between the Aeneid and the Homeric epics are merely the result of Virgil using folk motifs, or that Virgil was drawing from the same oral tradition that the Homeric epics came from. I think that the dependence of Virgil on the Homeric epics is of a completely different nature. The specificity and the extensiveness of the parallels, and the uniqueness of Homer's position in (and well before) Virgil's time make me believe that Virgil was deliberately and specifically using the Homeric epics (and that he intended for his readers to think of the Homeric epics), and Homer's oral tradition did not last to the time of Virgil. But I guess I'm pretty much just repeating myself now.


So those that say that Virgil is derivative (and i guess this discussion started when you mentioned the often commented issue that Virgil is derivative) must acknowledge that Homer was probably even more derivative from his culture.Fair enough, but I don't think the question of which work is "more derivative" is very meaningful because the nature of the derivation is completely different (in my opinion), and I'm not sure I understand how this contest relates to the Aeneid.


Homer, if there was only one Homer, which is indispute, ...
Are you saying that there were no epics of the Trojan war with the Trojan characters before Homer? If you're saying that, I completely disagree.There must be something I'm missing (and it would be no surprise because I'm pretty dense :)) because I don't see the relevance of the question of whether or not there was a single "Homer", and I don't know how I can be more clear than to explicitly say (as I have done) that I am not claiming that the Homeric epics were first or anything at all about the originality of Homer.

Maybe part of the confusion is from my habit of using 'Homer' interchangeably with 'the Homeric epics' as shorthand for 'the Iliad and the Odyssey'. I don't mean to say anything about the authorship of the Iliad and the Odyssey when I say things like "Virgil knows Homer well" -- it's just much easier to type than "Virgil knows the Iliad and the Odyssey well". :)

[quasimodo1]

Family, State and the Gods in the Aeneid.....after a

review of the postings so far, I have to compliment

Virgil (of litnet fame) for an intimate understanding

of the Aeneid that eludes me...so far. I want to

thank Dori for the link to the A.S.Kline translation;

the Dryden seems so stilted by comparison.

Bluevictim addendum of the legends and also the

innate power of the women in this epic to have

such great influence on events. That being said,

the theme of interest for me...perhaps a more

subtle point... is the relationship between the great

families, the power and position of the city-states

and how the gods interact with both. For me, it's

impossible to read Virgil (or Homer or Xenophon)

without consciously leaving modern assumptions at

the door. It is just as difficult to read the Aeneid

without some understanding of the history and

timelines of this era. A new consideration is that

the various gods, their assistance, interferance or

apathy towards the families, individuals and the

state...I now regard their part as not substratum but

as the one thing both the powerfull players and the

individual city-states have in common; these gods

are always available to explain the untenable or to

be the catalysts for changes and shifts in plot

otherwise impossible. Although Homer's gods were

there to help or hinder...his gods seem more aloof.

For anyone trying to get a fix on the history of this

era, here are some useful links...

http://www.livius.org/pb-pem/peloponnesian_war/war_t11.html.



http://library.thinkquest.org/22866/English/Legende.html.



http://library.thinkquest.org/22866/English/Tijdlijn.html.



http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/hero/hd_hero.htm.



http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/angk/hd_angk.htm. http://www.argyrosargyrou.fsnet.co.uk/Myths4.htm

[Virgil]

Thanks for clarifying. It seems like you are saying that the parallels between the Aeneid and the Homeric epics are merely the result of Virgil using folk motifs, or that Virgil was drawing from the same oral tradition that the Homeric epics came from. I think that the dependence of Virgil on the Homeric epics is of a completely different nature. The specificity and the extensiveness of the parallels, and the uniqueness of Homer's position in (and well before) Virgil's time make me believe that Virgil was deliberately and specifically using the Homeric epics (and that he intended for his readers to think of the Homeric epics), and Homer's oral tradition did not last to the time of Virgil. But I guess I'm pretty much just repeating myself now.

Yes, yes, yes. I'm sorry. I guess I wasn't making myself clear. And I agree that Virgil is copying Homer in a different fashion that Homer is working within the oral tradition.


Fair enough, but I don't think the question of which work is "more derivative" is very meaningful because the nature of the derivation is completely different (in my opinion), and I'm not sure I understand how this contest relates to the Aeneid.
Yes, I agree, that's why I bristled when you alluded to Virgil being derivative.


There must be something I'm missing (and it would be no surprise because I'm pretty dense :)) because I don't see the relevance of the question of whether or not there was a single "Homer", and I don't know how I can be more clear than to explicitly say (as I have done) that I am not claiming that the Homeric epics were first or anything at all about the originality of Homer.
No I just bristled and that's how this exchange started. :lol: We can move on. :)

[bluevictim]

We can move on. :)Sounds good. :)


Good points. None of those women however actually lead nations or cities, but they are strong women.One thing that is common with these "manly" women is that their "manliness" is something to be repulsed by, and in the case of Lysistrata, laughed at -- even Penthesileia and the Amazons serve more as a object for astonishment than for emulation. Like you, and, I imagine, many other readers, I feel that Virgil has made Dido quite admirable -- quite a contrast with the other ancient "manly" women. I wonder if these feelings are anachronistic; perhaps Virgil didn't intend for Dido to be as admirable as we are taking her. Your point that Roman women enjoy more freedom than their Greek counterparts is interesting, and maybe Virgil's audience would find a woman with male power admirable. On the other hand, Dido's story would probably remind them of Cleopatra, another woman with male power who caused harm by seducing a Roman (although I guess we're not at the "causing harm by seducing" part of the Dido story yet).


On the other hand Virgil is also faced with the need to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido and so be deterred from his mission. So Dido has to be sympathetic too.It makes sense that the woman Aeneas falls in love with should be a worthy woman, but it seems to me that it is kind of circular as an explanation for why Virgil made a sympathetic queen of Carthage. After all, the need to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido was created by Virgil in the first place. He could have come up with a scenario more like the model of Calypso ensnaring Odysseus against his will, for example. As far as I know the episode with Dido doesn't follow any well known legend in Virgil's time, so he wasn't under any pressure from tradition to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido.


For anyone trying to get a fix on the history of this
era, here are some useful links... Thanks for the links! I haven't had a chance to go through all of them yet but they definitely look very useful.

[Virgil]

Sounds good. :)

One thing that is common with these "manly" women is that their "manliness" is something to be repulsed by, and in the case of Lysistrata, laughed at -- even Penthesileia and the Amazons serve more as a object for astonishment than for emulation. Like you, and, I imagine, many other readers, I feel that Virgil has made Dido quite admirable -- quite a contrast with the other ancient "manly" women. I wonder if these feelings are anachronistic; perhaps Virgil didn't intend for Dido to be as admirable as we are taking her. Your point that Roman women enjoy more freedom than their Greek counterparts is interesting, and maybe Virgil's audience would find a woman with male power admirable. On the other hand, Dido's story would probably remind them of Cleopatra, another woman with male power who caused harm by seducing a Roman (although I guess we're not at the "causing harm by seducing" part of the Dido story yet).

Oh I had not thought of the parallel with Cleopatra. Yes, of course, she's partly based on Cleopatra. And Aeneas, unlike Marc Antony, actually rejects the African queen. Marc Antony was ridiculed in Rome for his absorption, for lack of a better word, with Cleopatra. And it was through a propaganda campaign by Octavian, who became Augustus and therefore Virgil's patron, who deefined Antony's relationship with Cleopatra to the Roman people. I would imagine it had already become legend by the writing of the Aeneid.

Interesting you refer to the Greek woman as "manly." Other than Homer, I'm not as up on classical greek literature. Is that how commentary refers to those women? One could not call Dido manly. ;)


It makes sense that the woman Aeneas falls in love with should be a worthy woman, but it seems to me that it is kind of circular as an explanation for why Virgil made a sympathetic queen of Carthage. After all, the need to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido was created by Virgil in the first place. He could have come up with a scenario more like the model of Calypso ensnaring Odysseus against his will, for example. As far as I know the episode with Dido doesn't follow any well known legend in Virgil's time, so he wasn't under any pressure from tradition to have Aeneas fall in love with Dido.
I think you hit it on the head when you brought up Cleopatra. I think Cleopatra is the model for Dido. Antony was defeated in 30 BC and The Aneid was written between 29 to 19 BC.

[Quark]

Sounds good. :)

One thing that is common with these "manly" women is that their "manliness" is something to be repulsed by, and in the case of Lysistrata, laughed at -- even Penthesileia and the Amazons serve more as a object for astonishment than for emulation. Like you, and, I imagine, many other readers, I feel that Virgil has made Dido quite admirable -- quite a contrast with the other ancient "manly" women.


On the other hand, Dido's story would probably remind them of Cleopatra


Oh I had not thought of the parallel with Cleopatra. Yes, of course, she's partly based on Cleopatra.

Interesting you refer to the Greek woman as "manly." Other than Homer, I'm not as up on classical greek literature. Is that how commentary refers to those women? One could not call Dido manly. ;)

This is interesting. I would think that the Roman views on gender and the news of Cleopatra affected the way they looked at Dido; and, it probably did change Virgil's characterization of the female temptation. Without knowing more about Roman history, though, I really can't add much.

Another part of Aeneus' relationship with Dido that we haven't talked about yet is the duplicity. Everyone is trying trick everyone else. Juno tries to pull Venus over to her side. Venus makes Dido fall in love with Aeneus. Dido tries to beguile Aeneus, and then Aeneus tries to slink away without being noticed. As an audience, I'm not really bothered by this because it fits with my idea of seduction: someone manipulating another by playing off their desires. That's what's going on in Book I and Book IV. But, once I think of this, then I have to decide how the character's are seducing the others. What desires are they playing off of? And, how are the characters affected by this manipulation?

[Petrarch's Love]

Prior to meeting Dido, Aeneas comes across Dido's temple to Juno, where is spread in what I assume are reliefs a pictorial of the events of the Trojan War. Aeneas sees Achilles and Priam and Hector and even himself in various scenes. I find this interesting too. What's usually made of this is that the Trojan War has entered mythic history. What I find interesting is the pictorial representation. In the Illiad there is Achilles's shield that has a series of pictorial representations, but this sequence of reliefs (the pictorial history of a war or important event) seem much more a Roman art form rather than Greek. Perhaps someone can correct me there. This sort of representation would find it's most famous example in the pictorial representation of Trajan's victories over the Dacians, sculpted on Trajan's Arch of about a hundred years after Virgil.

That is indeed a wonderfully vivid visual passage. As you may know, a passage like that, in which a visual art object is described in detail in poetry, is sometimes referred to as ekphrastic, which is a term from the Greek meaning literally to speak out, but also more specifically to call out the name of an inanimate object. There are other passages of ekphrasis before Virgil, such as Achilles' sheild in the Iliad, which you point out, but as far as I can remember Virgil was the first to do this sort of description of the temple walls. This was a hugely imitated passage after Virgil, and the vivid ekphrastic or pictorial description of images on the walls of a temple or some similar structure became a standard feature in most of the major epics that followed the Virgilian tradition, just as ekphrasis of sheilds became standard features in most post Homeric epics (including the Aeneid in book 8). These two sites of ekphrasis also were usually adopted in later epics (see, for example, Tasso's Gerusalleme Liberata) just the way they appear in the Aeneid. The description of images on a wall usually precedes an encounter with a tempting woman, while the description of the sheild was associated with the point in the narrative when the hero is once more on track for his epic quest and looking ahead to the descendants of the great empire he expects to build. Fairly clearly a shield is the object appropriate to conquest and warfare, while the wall represents a building or structure, which signifies a temple, a home, or other settled domestic area where women have more potential to thrive or even dominate.



Two things I find interesting there. One that a woman can have such leadership ability in an ancient text. It's interesting to note that Roman women, while they did not hold office or command an army, had much more freedom than their Greek counterparts. And Virgil doesn't feel uncomfortable creating a strong female character. Second and more important is the parallel histroy that she has with Aeneas. Both are fleeing their home lands, albeit for dfferent reasons, and where some injustice has occured to them. Both have lost a spouse and are probably around middle age. And both have voyaged out searching for a new homeland. Another interesting thing that we keep coming across is the walls of a city. It seems as if Virgil is obssessed with it. The walls of Carthage, the walls of Alba Longa, the walls of Rome. And of course the torn walls of Troy.


In this regard, it may be interesting to compare and (perhaps mostly) contrast Dido with Aeschylus' Clytemnestra and Euripides' Medea, two Greek "manly" women in serious literature, and Aristophanes' Lysistrata. In Aeschylus' Agamemnon, Clytemnestra is clearly in charge of Agamemnon's house, even though Aigisthos was around, and she is the one who kills Agamemnon. In Euripides' Medea, we find Medea making many of the claims on Jason typically reserved for men in terms of oaths-keeping and honor. In Aristophanes' Lysistrata, the women, led by Lysistrata, are sick of war and decide to go on sexual strike to get the men to end it (and they succeed). It's also interesting that the last picture described on the wall of the temple, just before Aeneas sees Dido, is Penthesileia and her Amazon warriors.

The romance between Aeneas and Dido is reminiscent of the romance between Jason and Medea in Apollonius Rhodius' Argonautica. In that epic, Aphrodite (Venus) gets Eros (Cupid) to make Medea fall in love with Jason to help him with his heroic quest.

...One thing that is common with these "manly" women is that their "manliness" is something to be repulsed by, and in the case of Lysistrata, laughed at -- even Penthesileia and the Amazons serve more as a object for astonishment than for emulation. Like you, and, I imagine, many other readers, I feel that Virgil has made Dido quite admirable -- quite a contrast with the other ancient "manly" women. I wonder if these feelings are anachronistic; perhaps Virgil didn't intend for Dido to be as admirable as we are taking her. Your point that Roman women enjoy more freedom than their Greek counterparts is interesting, and maybe Virgil's audience would find a woman with male power admirable. On the other hand, Dido's story would probably remind them of Cleopatra, another woman with male power who caused harm by seducing a Roman (although I guess we're not at the "causing harm by seducing" part of the Dido story yet).



Oh I had not thought of the parallel with Cleopatra. Yes, of course, she's partly based on Cleopatra. And Aeneas, unlike Marc Antony, actually rejects the African queen. Marc Antony was ridiculed in Rome for his absorption, for lack of a better word, with Cleopatra. And it was through a propaganda campaign by Octavian, who became Augustus and therefore Virgil's patron, who deefined Antony's relationship with Cleopatra to the Roman people. I would imagine it had already become legend by the writing of the Aeneid.

Interesting you refer to the Greek woman as "manly." Other than Homer, I'm not as up on classical greek literature. Is that how commentary refers to those women? One could not call Dido manly. ;)

I think you hit it on the head when you brought up Cleopatra. I think Cleopatra is the model for Dido. Antony was defeated in 30 BC and The Aneid was written between 29 to 19 BC.


This is interesting. I would think that the Roman views on gender and the news of Cleopatra affected the way they looked at Dido; and, it probably did change Virgil's characterization of the female temptation. Without knowing more about Roman history, though, I really can't add much.

Blue brings up some good possible sources for strong female characters in the Greek tragedies, and I think especially the Jason-Medea relationship in the Argonautica seems a likely source for at least part of the Dido-Aeneas story. The clearest source of inspiration, however, is, as Blue suggests, Cleopatra. There can be little doubt that Virgil is alluding to what were then relatively recent events with the Dido story. That's probably one good reason for the choice of Carthage as Dido's home as well, since this would reinforce that this is a cautionary tale about the dangers of women from North Africa. Later, in book eight, Virgil explicitly brings up Antony's defeat at Actium, making it clear that he regarded Cleopatra as an unfortunate Dido-like distraction from the work of the Roman Empire. The two stories were also closely linked for centuries in both the critical reception of the Aeneid and the literature that followed it. For example, since we were just talking about ekphrasis, there's a lovely example of the conflation between the two in book 16 of Tasso's Gerusalleme Liberata in which there's a vivid description of images of Anthony and Cleopatra at the battle of Actium depicted on walls reminiscent of the temple in Dido's Carthage.

What I think is fascinating about Virgil's portrait of Dido, however, is what everyone has been commenting on in this thread. That is that she is such a very attractive and sympathetic character. She is beautiful, intelligent, powerful in her own right, and clearly truly in love with Aeneas. One could argue that this attractive portrait is aimed at making her a real temptation to both Aeneas and the reader. It must be realistically difficult to give her up in order to get across the importance and gravity of resisting the temptation to stay with her in order to pursue his goals. I think that this is true to a certain extent, but I also think that Virgil is a great enough poet and story teller that he, on some level, is seeing this story from Dido's perspective as a woman, even as he clearly wants to get the point across that Aeneas has no business dilly dallying around Carthage. There's something of a Shakespearean depth to Dido's character that makes her not simply a symbolic temptress from the quest, but a real seeming person.

[Virgil]

Thank you Petrarch, especially for "ekphrasis." I had not heard that rhetorical term. I will look it up. I wish there had been a class in rhetorical terms. Yes, we get some as we go through english classes, but it's not structured or organized around it. As much as I rail against the modern education system :p I do prefer it over that of the midle ages, but the middle ages were onto something when they taught rhetoric.

Yes I agree that Dido is incredibly three dimensional for an ancient female character. I can't think of any other, not even Penelope, who is as complex. I do think that Virgil is trying to balance a number of things: a representative for Carthage, a mirror companion to Aeneas, a fictionalized Cleopatra, and a love interest that almost prevents Aeneas from his mission. A wonderful character.

[bluevictim]

Interesting you refer to the Greek woman as "manly." Other than Homer, I'm not as up on classical greek literature. Is that how commentary refers to those women? One could not call Dido manly. ;)

No, I didn't mean anything technical by "manly"; all I mean by a "manly" woman is one who takes on some of the behaviors and roles traditionally reserved for males. So, Clytemnestra is "manly" for ruling Agamemnon's house just as Dido can be said to be "manly" for being in charge of Carthage. It's probably a bad word choice, so I put it in quotes. :)



Another part of Aeneus' relationship with Dido that we haven't talked about yet is the duplicity. Everyone is trying trick everyone else. Juno tries to pull Venus over to her side. Venus makes Dido fall in love with Aeneus. Dido tries to beguile Aeneus, and then Aeneus tries to slink away without being noticed. As an audience, I'm not really bothered by this because it fits with my idea of seduction: someone manipulating another by playing off their desires. That's what's going on in Book I and Book IV. But, once I think of this, then I have to decide how the character's are seducing the others. What desires are they playing off of? And, how are the characters affected by this manipulation?It's interesting that you point out that Aeneas is guilty of duplicitousness. My impression of Aeneas is usually that he is fairly guileless, and even a bit naive. His plan of slipping away always seemed to me to be more an attempt at being tactful (but he failed, unlike Odysseus with Calypso) than an attempt to manipulate Dido.


As an unrelated thought, I find that there is a certain undertone foreboding evil in Book 1, before the tragic developments in Book 4. While most of the book parallels Odysseus' arrival among the Phaeacians, who help him on his journey, the description of the harbor, where there is no need for mooring or anchoring, recalls the harbor of the Cyclops in the Odyssey, and Dido's series of questions upon meeting him also faintly resembles Polyphemus' series of questions when he first saw Odysseus in his cave (Odyssey, Book 9). Of course the episode with the Cyclops turned out to be a disaster. Virgil also tells us that Venus is wary of Dido's "uncertain house and two-tongued Tyrians" (maybe reflecting the hostility between Rome and Carthage). And, as everyone else has said, there is the association with Cleopatra. So, even though things are going well for the Trojans on the surface and Aeneas himself is oblivious to the danger, Virgil has provided subtle hints that all is not well.

[Quark]

What I think is fascinating about Virgil's portrait of Dido, however, is what everyone has been commenting on in this thread. That is that she is such a very attractive and sympathetic character. She is beautiful, intelligent, powerful in her own right, and clearly truly in love with Aeneas. One could argue that this attractive portrait is aimed at making her a real temptation to both Aeneas and the reader. It must be realistically difficult to give her up in order to get across the importance and gravity of resisting the temptation to stay with her in order to pursue his goals. I think that this is true to a certain extent, but I also think that Virgil is a great enough poet and story teller that he, on some level, is seeing this story from Dido's perspective as a woman, even as he clearly wants to get the point across that Aeneas has no business dilly dallying around Carthage. There's something of a Shakespearean depth to Dido's character that makes her not simply a symbolic temptress from the quest, but a real seeming person.


Yes I agree that Dido is incredibly three dimensional for an ancient female character. I can't think of any other, not even Penelope, who is as complex. I do think that Virgil is trying to balance a number of things: a representative for Carthage, a mirror companion to Aeneas, a fictionalized Cleopatra, and a love interest that almost prevents Aeneas from his mission. A wonderful character.

Dido is a sympathetic character. I really do feel for her after Book IV. In fact, most of that Book is dedicated to her mini-tragedy (mini in terms of number of pages, not pathos). Yet, I feel sympathetic towards Dido less because of characterization and more because of the positions Virgil puts her in. Really, I don't know that much about Dido. She appears attractive, and she must be a good leader. Other than that, I can't speculate much. The tragic aspect of her story doesn't appear to stem from these qualities. It comes more from her victimhood which Virgil portrays so well. Her husband has been murdered, Aeneus is leaving her, and now she has to deal with the unfriendly tribes around her. As Aeneus is sailing away from Carthage, the last picture of Dido we get is of this thrice-victim who suffers misfortune in her past, present, and future. I think this makes her more sympathetic than the actual personal traits which are scarcely given. What we do know of her character is actually geared to make her more attractive to Aeneus than it is to the reader. She seems to be the feminine version of Aeneus. Both suffered tragic losses in their past and then resolved to heroically found their own kingdoms. They are both conveyed as smart, charismatic leaders. And, they are both neglecting their duties in their affair. These qualities make them a good match, and the reader--on some level--must want them to get together; but, I don't know how much depth any of this gives Dido.

[quasimodo1]

BkII:1-15 The Trojan Horse: Laocoön’s Warning


They were all silent, and turned their faces towards him intently.

Then from his high couch our forefather Aeneas began:

‘O queen, you command me to renew unspeakable grief,

how the Greeks destroyed the riches of Troy,

and the sorrowful kingdom, miseries I saw myself,

and in which I played a great part. What Myrmidon,

or Dolopian, or warrior of fierce Ulysses, could keep

from tears in telling such a story? Now the dew-filled night

is dropping from the sky, and the setting stars urge sleep.

But if you have such desire to learn of our misfortunes,

and briefly hear of Troy’s last agonies, though my mind

shudders at the memory, and recoils in sorrow, I’ll begin.

‘After many years have slipped by, the leaders of the Greeks,

opposed by the Fates, and damaged by the war,

build a horse of mountainous size, through Pallas’s divine art,

and weave planks of fir over its ribs:

.................................................. .................................................. ....And the Latin text...CONTICUERE omnes intentique ora tenebant. / Inde toro pater Aeneas sic orsus ab alto: / "Infandum, regina, jubes renovare dolerem, / Trojanas ut opes et lamentabile regnum / eruerint Danae, queque ipse miserrima vidi / et quorum pars magna fui. / Quis talea fando / Myrmidonum Dolopumve aut duri miles Ulixi / temperet a lacrimis? Et jam nox umida caelo / praecipitat suadentque cadentia sidera somnos. / Sed si tantus amor casus cagnoscere nostros / et breviter Trojae supremum audire laborem, / quamquam animus meminisse horret luctuque refugit incipiam. ".................................................. .........................................These first lines describe how at Dido's request, Aeneas starts to describe the fall of Troy even though it brings back all the sorrow of these memories. A few Latin lines later, Aeneas gives credit to Pallas (Minerva), godess of wisdom and the arts, for the idea and design of the Trojan Horse. This godess, like all Roman gods, had it's inception in a real person or ancestor who's talent and skill was so great that she became a godess in later generations. This transference from some ancestor of special skills to a god like Minerva is true of the other Deities and demi-gods; the exception being the most powerfull god...Zeus, the Greek god and his equal in the Roman god Jupiter. One of the purposes of Augustus and Virgil in creating the Aeneid, was to spark a revival of faith and with it unquestioning reliance on the infallable wisdom of the gods and their helpful interference in human struggles.

[Virgil]

Hey, I'm sorry if I haven't been back for over a week. I was very preoccupied.

Let me post some thoughts on Book II, my favorite of the books. And really I think one of the most original of the Aenied. Yes, Odysseus in the Odyssey goes through a first person narration of his adventures. But Aeneas's first person narration of the fall of troy far surpasses anything in the The Odyssey in terms of specificity and subjective first person. We feel Aeneas's emotions every step of the way. We know his thoughts as he comments on the events, we know his decision making processes, we know his angers and horrors and fears. Virgil places us in Aeneas's shoes more so than any writer before and not after until the modern novel. Here's an example. Aeneas has just witness the murder of Priam by Achilles's son. We get first his thoughts on the context of the event, and then the fear of his own father's fate, and then his emotions flame as he sees Helen, the cause of al this war and fall of his homeland.


"Such was the fate of Priam, his death, his lot on earth,
with Troy blazing before his eyes, her ramparts down,
the monarch who once had ruled in all his glory
the many lands of Asia, Asia's many tribes.
A powerful trunk is lying on the shore.
The head wrenched from his shoulders.
A corpse without a name.


"Then, for the first time
the full horror came home to me at last. I froze.
The thought of my own dear father filled my mind
when I saw the old king gasping out his life
with the raw wound--both men were the same age--
and the thought of my Creusa, alone, abandoned,
out house plundered, our little Iulus' fate.
I look back--what forces still stood by me?
None. Totally spent in war, they'd all deserted,
down from the roofs they'd flung themselves to earth
or hurled their broken bodies in the flames.



"So
at just that moment I was the one man left
and then I saw her, clinging to Vesta's threshold,
hiding in silence, tucked away--Helen of Argos.
Glare of the fires lit my view as I ooked down,
scanning the city left and right, and there she was...
terrified of the Trojans' hate, now Troy was overpowered,
terrified of the Greeks' revenge, her deserted husband's rage--
that universal Fury, a curse to Troy and her native land
and here she lurked, skulking, a thing of loathing
cowering at the altar: Helen. Out it flared,
the fire inside my soul, my rage ablaze to revenge
our fallen country--pay Helen back, crime for crime.
(l. 692-714)

[Virgil]

Here's another element of Book II that is interesting. This is the Book with the Trojan Horse, and as the Trojans ponder what to do with the Horse and what it means, the Greeks actually plant a person, Sinon, from their ranks to decieve them into thinking the Greeks have left and that the Horse is only an icon for the God Neptune. Look at how Virgil, through Aeneas, characterizes the Greeks:


Now hear the treachery of the Greeks and learn
from a single crime the nature of the beast...
(l. 85-6)


"Now, of course,
we burn to question him, urge him to explain--
blind to how false the cunning Greeks could be.
All atremble, he carries on with his tale,
lying from the cocles of his heart
(l. 133-7)


"He brke off. Sinon, adept at decent,
with all his Greek cunninglifted his hands...
(l. 152-3)

And there are other places as well where the Greeks are characterized as deceivers. Now of course the element of the Trojan Horse, a trick, requires Virgil to go down this path for purposes of the story. But it goes beyond that. This is an epic of Roman identity and given Virgil is working in the Homeric tradition, the contrast with Greek identity is important and deliberate. Characterizing the Greeks as decievers is not an accident of the story. As much as Romans may have been impressed with Greek culture the remark that some make that Romans idolized Greeks is generally wrong. The romans thought the Greeks superior in the arts, but they actually had low opinions of them when it came to character, honor, and fortitude, as well as soldiering and government. The quotes are actually Roman attitudes that carried through deep in their cuture. This too carres historical weight. When Mark Antony seemingly rejects Roman identity for that of the Hellenistic east, the Romans easily turned against him, looking at him in much the same attitude.

[Quark]

This is an epic of Roman identity and given Virgil is working in the Homeric tradition, the contrast with Greek identity is important and deliberate.

If the Greeks are characterized as wily deceivers, how do you think the Romans differ? I mean within The Aeneid. Obviously, the usual answer is that the Romans are more impassive and value things like honesty and strength, but I'm wondering how the story itself portrays the difference.

[Virgil]

If the Greeks are characterized as wily deceivers, how do you think the Romans differ? I mean within The Aeneid. Obviously, the usual answer is that the Romans are more impassive and value things like honesty and strength, but I'm wondering how the story itself portrays the difference.

Virgil characterizes the Romans as Aeneas, dutiful, straight forward, and willing to sacrifice for the greater good.

[Virgil]

Book II is so rich, I think I'll make one more post on it. Another quality of Book II is the misty, almost metaphysical state of the action. One can't seem to know how Aeneas seems to be able to see all that he does. One moment he's watching the Greeks file out of the Trojan Horse, the next he's fighting, next he's disguised as part of the Greeks, next he's watching Priam get slain, next he's escaping with his family. I never get the feel of the movement, though as I look closely, there is enough time for Aeneas to float across all these scenes.

Another reason for the metaphysical feel is that three non humans visit Aeneas through the Book: two ghosts, Hector and his wife Creusa, and one diety, his mother Venus. All three really do the same thing, implore him to escape.

Here is Hector's passage:


"This was the hour when rest, that gift of the gods
most haeven-sent, first comes to beleagurred mortals,
creeping over us now...when there, look,
I dreamed I saw Prince Hector before my eyes,
my comrade haggard with sorrow, streaming tears,
just as he once was, when dragged behind the chariot,
black with blood and grime, thongs piercing his swollen feet--
what a harrowing sight! What a far cry from the old Hector
home from battle, decked in Achilles' arms--his trophies--
or fresh from pitching Trojan fire at the greek ships.
His beard matted now, his hair clotted with blood,
bearing the wonds, so many wounds he suffered
fighting round his native city walls...
I dreamed I addressed him first, in tears myself
I forced my voice from the depths of all my grief:
'Oh light of Trojans--last best hope of Troy!
What's held ou back so long? How long we've waited,
Hector, for you to come, and now from what far shores?
How glad we are to see you, we battle weary men,
after so many deaths, your people dead and gone,
after your citizens, your city felt such pain.
But what outrage has mutilated your face
so clear and cloudless once? Why these wounds?'

"Wasting no words, no time on empty questions,
heaving a deep groan from his heart he calls out:
'Escape, son of the goddess, tear yourself from the flames!
The enemy holds our walls. Troy is toppling from her heights.
You have paid your debt to our King and native land.
If one strong arm could have saved Troy, my arm
would have saved the city. Now, into your hands
she entrusts her holy things, her household gods.
Take them with you as comrades in your fortunes.
Seek a city for them, once you have roved the seas,
erect great walls at last to house the gods of Troy!
(l. 339-372)

Remember, Aeneas will be fleeing his homeland, a potentially dishonorable act, but what better sanction than to have Hector, the noblest of all, approve his escape. And notice Aeneas will be taking the holy things. I had not realized how religious this work is until this read. And the same thing too, when his mother, Venus, tells him to escape, the sanction of the gods to fulfill a different important fate. And then too Creusa, gives him her blessing to go on. Aeneas will be having an affair with Dido, and remarrying a girl from the Italian land to start a new people. A blessing from the wife absolves him of any potential dishonor to his marriage vows.

I love Book II. :)

[Petrarch's Love]

Oh, I hadn't realized that discussion of Book II had started off. I had been checking for awhile to see if people were posting, but I guess I've been distracted lately. Anyway, I agree with you, Virg., that book two is a good one. Virgil did refine the flashback form of the Odyssey to great effect here as you point out. There's one point you've made a few times both here and in relation to book one that I would be interested in having you clarify a bit:


We feel Aeneas's emotions every step of the way. We know his thoughts as he comments on the events, we know his decision making processes, we know his angers and horrors and fears. Virgil places us in Aeneas's shoes more so than any writer before and not after until the modern novel. Here's an example. Aeneas has just witness the murder of Priam by Achilles's son.


I'm not quite sure about this repeated claim that Virgil does things that weren't repeated until the modern novel. Not that I don't think you're right that there are features of the Aeneid that are present later in the novel, but that I don't quite buy the claim that these features went missing for centuries until Defoe and Richardson started writing or something. Certainly telling parts of the story from a main character's emotional point of view is something that you see in Renaissance drama, Milton's Paradise Lost, etc. Aeneas is a remarkably central hero, but I'd be interested in knowing what specifically you think is unique in the Aeneid until the advent of the novel?


Book II is so rich, I think I'll make one more post on it. Another quality of Book II is the misty, almost metaphysical state of the action. One can't seem to know how Aeneas seems to be able to see all that he does. One moment he's watching the Greeks file out of the Trojan Horse, the next he's fighting, next he's disguised as part of the Greeks, next he's watching Priam get slain, next he's escaping with his family. I never get the feel of the movement, though as I look closely, there is enough time for Aeneas to float across all these scenes.

I know, I'm always keenly aware in Book II of how absurdly active he seems to be. I get exhausted just reading about it. :lol: I think Virgil's being very clever here though by using an effect much like a film editor who does numerous cuts to changing scene to give the sense of confusion and action for a battle sequence. Hey, maybe Virgil gave the movie directors that idea.:p

[Quark]

Another quality of Book II is the misty, almost metaphysical state of the action. One can't seem to know how Aeneas seems to be able to see all that he does. One moment he's watching the Greeks file out of the Trojan Horse, the next he's fighting, next he's disguised as part of the Greeks, next he's watching Priam get slain, next he's escaping with his family. I never get the feel of the movement, though as I look closely, there is enough time for Aeneas to float across all these scenes.

Another reason for the metaphysical feel is that three non humans visit Aeneas through the Book: two ghosts, Hector and his wife Creusa, and one diety, his mother Venus. All three really do the same thing, implore him to escape.


I think Virgil's being very clever here though by using an effect much like a film editor who does numerous cuts to changing scene to give the sense of confusion and action for a battle sequence. Hey, maybe Virgil gave the movie directors that idea.:p

I think we're just supposed to believe that Aeneas has amazingly acute senses. He's able to hear the battle at the gates from his father's house, see Priam's death from the roof of the palace, and he notices Cassandra being taken away while he's busy being shot at with arrows. It's rather improbable, but I guess it's necessary if the story is to have the kind of scope it does. Metaphysical, though? No, it's just Virgil stretching it a bit.


I know, I'm always keenly aware in Book II of how absurdly active he seems to be. I get exhausted just reading about it. :lol:

That's the funny thing, actually. While he is absurdly active at times, he's also absurdly passive at others. Through all the chaos he stops and talks to people and gods, and he just stares from the roof for a surprising long time, watching the city burn and Priam get killed. This goes on for almost two-hundred lines until Venus finally gets him to leave. There are two Aeneases in Book II. One is the omniscient observer who is the motionless cataloger of Troy's destruction, and the other is the Rome-founding, epic Aeneas who has save whatever he can from Troy. The later one can be exhaustingly kinetic. Although, I think I'm more exhausted by the unrelenting depiction of death and ruin. This all culminates in the figure of Pyrrus the Greek who is "furentem caede / going mad with murder". He kills Priam in a particularly gruesome fashion, too. Priam is literally slipping in his son's blood as he's stabbed to death. These kind of scenes are what wore me down when I was reading.


Remember, Aeneas will be fleeing his homeland, a potentially dishonorable act, but what better sanction than to have Hector, the noblest of all, approve his escape. And notice Aeneas will be taking the holy things. I had not realized how religious this work is until this read. And the same thing too, when his mother, Venus, tells him to escape, the sanction of the gods to fulfill a different important fate. And then too Creusa, gives him her blessing to go on. Aeneas will be having an affair with Dido, and remarrying a girl from the Italian land to start a new people. A blessing from the wife absolves him of any potential dishonor to his marriage vows.

Aeneas does cover his bases before leaving.


I'm not quite sure about this repeated claim that Virgil does things that weren't repeated until the modern novel. Not that I don't think you're right that there are features of the Aeneid that are present later in the novel, but that I don't quite buy the claim that these features went missing for centuries until Defoe and Richardson started writing or something. Certainly telling parts of the story from a main character's emotional point of view is something that you see in Renaissance drama, Milton's Paradise Lost, etc. Aeneas is a remarkably central hero, but I'd be interested in knowing what specifically you think is unique in the Aeneid until the advent of the novel?

I don't exactly follow Vigil (Lit Net Virgil) either, but I thought that it was less of a statement about the Aeneid than it was an attempt to get people into the discussion. It's probably more exciting if we're talking about the most emotional first-person perspective than just another of several very good emotional first-person perspectives. I know I did a lot of similar exaggeration when I was starting a thread on Chekhov short stories. You can see some of it here:

http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?t=17728

Too some degree, you probably do have to make some far-fetched claims just to get conversation going--even if it means having them thrown in your face two seconds after you say them.

[Virgil]

I don't exactly follow Vigil (Lit Net Virgil) either, but I thought that it was less of a statement about the Aeneid than it was an attempt to get people into the discussion. It's probably more exciting if we're talking about the most emotional first-person perspective than just another of several very good emotional first-person perspectives. I know I did a lot of similar exaggeration when I was starting a thread on Chekhov short stories. You can see some of it here:

Too some degree, you probably do have to make some far-fetched claims just to get conversation going--even if it means having them thrown in your face two seconds after you say them.

No, no. I wasn't being just provocative. Although i was wondering if anyone was paying attention. I'll explain.


Quote:
We feel Aeneas's emotions every step of the way. We know his thoughts as he comments on the events, we know his decision making processes, we know his angers and horrors and fears. Virgil places us in Aeneas's shoes more so than any writer before and not after until the modern novel. Here's an example. Aeneas has just witness the murder of Priam by Achilles's son.


I'm not quite sure about this repeated claim that Virgil does things that weren't repeated until the modern novel. Not that I don't think you're right that there are features of the Aeneid that are present later in the novel, but that I don't quite buy the claim that these features went missing for centuries until Defoe and Richardson started writing or something. Certainly telling parts of the story from a main character's emotional point of view is something that you see in Renaissance drama, Milton's Paradise Lost, etc. Aeneas is a remarkably central hero, but I'd be interested in knowing what specifically you think is unique in the Aeneid until the advent of the novel?


Perhaps it's just me reading it this way, but I don't think there is a character who is as three dimensional as Aeneas. Here look at how many emotions are brought out in such a short passage:

"Then, for the first time
the full horror came home to me at last. I froze.
The thought of my own dear father filled my mind
when I saw the old king gasping out his life
with the raw wound--both men were the same age--
and the thought of my Creusa, alone, abandoned,
out house plundered, our little Iulus' fate.
I look back--what forces still stood by me?
None. Totally spent in war, they'd all deserted,
down from the roofs they'd flung themselves to earth
or hurled their broken bodies in the flames.

"So
at just that moment I was the one man left
and then I saw her, clinging to Vesta's threshold,
hiding in silence, tucked away--Helen of Argos.
Glare of the fires lit my view as I ooked down,
scanning the city left and right, and there she was...
terrified of the Trojans' hate, now Troy was overpowered,
terrified of the Greeks' revenge, her deserted husband's rage--
that universal Fury, a curse to Troy and her native land
and here she lurked, skulking, a thing of loathing
cowering at the altar: Helen. Out it flared,
the fire inside my soul, my rage ablaze to revenge
our fallen country--pay Helen back, crime for crime.
(l. 692-714)

Even in Book I notice these contrasting speeches by Aeneas. The first is right in the midst of the storm:

"Three, four times blest, my comrades
lucky to die beneath the soaring walls of Troy--
before their parents eyes! If only I had down
under your right hand--Diomedes, strongest greek afield--
and poured out my life on the battlegrounds of Troy!
(l. 113-117)
That is the private side of Aeneas. Now shortly after he speaks to his crew, and the public side comes out:

"My comrades, hardly strangers to pain before now,
we all have weathered worse. Some god will grant us
an end t this as well...
Call up your courage again. Dismiss your grief and fear.
A joy it will be one day, perhaps, to remember even this.
(l. 233-239)

The very thing he experienced internally (despair, grief) he has to hide to lead to mollify the crew.

And his relationship with Dido is very three dimensional, and even at the end in the last book, when Turnus pleads for his life, and the noble and just thing to do was to spare him, Aeneas, who has been noble and just throughout, acts emtionally, even against the ideals expressed by his father in the underworld (I'll get to them when we reach that book) to spare the merciful (or something like that) and kills Turnus.

What I'm saying is that i don't recall such a three dimensional character until the modern novel, perhaps Don Quixote. No character in The Illiad is that three dimensional. Oddyseus in The Oddessy perhaps but I don't recall the subtlty of evolving emotion with Oddyseus. Certainy not Beowulf or any of the renaissance legends that I recall. Petrarch, if you know of one, please mention it, but I don't think any of the Romances or Arthurian legends I've read reach that kind of characterization. Now I haven't read Apuleus' The Golden ***, or any of the other ancient novels (yes there were novels in classical Greece and Rome) so I can't assess. But from what i have read, I think Aeneas is the most complex character from ancient times to the novel. Oh, with perhaps (I just thought of this) the possible exception of Shakespeare's Hamlet.

[Petrarch's Love]

Virg.--Ah, I see. You seem to be pointing to a dimension of interiority in Aeneas, which I agree is present in many scenes of the Aeneid. I also agree that this style of character is not present in many epics like Beowulf, or more allegorical works like Spenser's Faerie Queene. Now I would, as you might say, bristle at the implication that there was something better or more profound about a character like Aeneas than the more symbolic or allegorical character, since I think either style of characterization contributes a deep reading of the human psyche, just in a different way. Indeed, in some ways allegory can deal with interior issues in fascinating ways that a speech from a character can't. I don't think you're really addressing that whole issue anyway though, so we can set that aside and agree that the character of Aeneas is a much different type than that of Beowulf.

That said, I can't really agree that we don't see this kind of emotional interiority in a character from the time of Aeneas to the time of the novel, though it certainly comes into full force in the novel. Certainly the most clear cut examples are in Shakespeare and other Renaissance drama in which the soliloquies afford something stylistically similar to the first person account of the character's emotional reactions to things. You already mentioned Hamlet, but I would also include many others from the Shakespeare corpus. Take, for example, even in a play as early as Richard III, this soliloquy from act 5:


Give me another horse: bind up my wounds.
Have mercy, Jesu!--Soft! I did but dream.
O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!
The lights burn blue. It is now dead midnight.
Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh.
What do I fear? myself? there's none else by:
Richard loves Richard; that is, I am I.
Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am:
Then fly. What, from myself? Great reason why:
Lest I revenge. What, myself upon myself?
Alack. I love myself. Wherefore? for any good
That I myself have done unto myself?
O, no! alas, I rather hate myself
For hateful deeds committed by myself!
I am a villain: yet I lie. I am not.
Fool, of thyself speak well: fool, do not flatter.
My conscience hath a thousand several tongues,
And every tongue brings in a several tale,
And every tale condemns me for a villain.
Perjury, perjury, in the high'st degree
Murder, stem murder, in the direst degree;
All several sins, all used in each degree,
Throng to the bar, crying all, Guilty! guilty!
I shall despair. There is no creature loves me;
And if I die, no soul shall pity me:
Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself
Find in myself no pity to myself?
Methought the souls of all that I had murder'd
Came to my tent; and every one did threat
To-morrow's vengeance on the head of Richard.

In my opinion this speech goes a step further than even the very powerful emotional interiority of Aeneas' character in that we hear, not only his emotional reactions to events as he relates them to others, but the inner workings of his mind as he talks to himself. It's a glimpse into the deepest private emotions of this character, conflicting emotions he is unwilling even to fully admit to himself. You also see, shortly after this speech, the way he tries to rally his troops:


Go, gentleman, every man unto his charge
Let not our babbling dreams affright our souls:
Conscience is but a word that cowards use,
Devised at first to keep the strong in awe:
Our strong arms be our conscience, swords our law.
March on, join bravely, let us to't pell-mell
If not to heaven, then hand in hand to hell.


This is really a brilliant little spech because it could be read isolated from the rest and come across from the perspective of a soldier listening to this as a highly public speech to his troops urging them to fight with strength and without mercy. However, as readers who have just heard the soliloquay, we have insight into just how much this address to the troops coincides with his own personal misgivings. He is trying to make it sound as though it were the men who have these "babbling dreams" or troubles with "conscience," and that they must be assured, but we know that Richard needs assurance more than anyone.

This is, of course, just one example. You get character moments like this all over Shakespeare as well as some of the better dramatists of his era. I would also argue that Milton has some wonderful interior moments in PL, especially with Satan. In other epic and romance, I would say that there are sometimes moments of insight into a character's inner state: Orlando's mad scene in Orlando Furioso might qualify, and certain passages from Tasso's Gerusaleme Liberata portray Rinaldo and others in ways similar to Aeneas' character. I would agree, however that they are not consistently "three dimensional" in the way that many of Shakespeare's characters are.

Of course, I would also argue that Aeneas is not consistently this sort of character either. Book two is perhaps the most intensely interior book in part because of the first person narrative style which, much like a soliloquay, easily lends itself to interiority. There are, however, other places where there is much more emotional distance from ourselves and Aeneas the hero. Certainly he is never a character of the much more simple Beowulf type, but there are some scenes in which he leans closer to being a heroic type. This may be increasingly true as we move towards the later books and the focus shifts to a more public figure. We see more interiority toward the beginning when he is a lamenter and a lover. Incidently (and this just occured to me as I was typing) I think another sort of character that no doubt contributed to the speech you quoted above about the destruction of Troy, is that of the lamenting woman. You consistently get women characters speaking in deeply emotional terms about the horrors they've witnessed and their inner feelings about these events from the Greek tragedies to well through the Renaissance. As you point out, Virgil adapts this lament tradition in a way that makes Aeneas a distinct character--who must suppress his personal emotion to speak in his public persona etc.--rather than a type, but I think that he is drawing on a tradition of emotionally expressive characters.

[bluevictim]

What I'm saying is that i don't recall such a three dimensional character until the modern novel, perhaps Don Quixote. No character in The Illiad is that three dimensional. Oddyseus in The Oddessy perhaps but I don't recall the subtlty of evolving emotion with Oddyseus. Certainy not Beowulf or any of the renaissance legends that I recall. Petrarch, if you know of one, please mention it, but I don't think any of the Romances or Arthurian legends I've read reach that kind of characterization. Now I haven't read Apuleus' The Golden ***, or any of the other ancient novels (yes there were novels in classical Greece and Rome) so I can't assess. But from what i have read, I think Aeneas is the most complex character from ancient times to the novel. Oh, with perhaps (I just thought of this) the possible exception of Shakespeare's Hamlet.It's interesting that you find Aeneas to be more 'three-dimensional' than the characters in Homer. I've always (and still do, I guess) regarded the Aeneid in general, and Aeneas in particular, to lack the depth of the Homeric epics and their main characters.

I guess a lot depends on what is meant by 'three-dimensional'. I agree that Virgil portrays Aeneas' emotions more explicitly and vividly than Homer. Indeed, Homer never indulges in gushing emotional scenes like the description of the fall of Troy or the romance of Dido and Aeneas in the Aeneid. If that is all that is meant by 'three-dimensional', I'm more or less on the same page (at least with respect to the comparison with Homer; I would still have reservations about the claim that it was not matched until Don Quixote).

For all the intensity of Aeneas' emotions, however, they are fairly simple. Whether it's horror from witnessing atrocities of war, or anxiety for the welfare of his family, or the reluctance to abandon his country, there really isn't anything particularly deep or complex. I don't feel that there is anything in the Aeneid to match, for example, the emotional complexity of Book 9 of the Iliad, where Odysseus, Ajax, and Phoenix try to persuade Achilles to return to the fighting. In that passage, we find that the anger of Achilles goes deeper than merely being offended because Agamemnon took Briseis from him. His original purpose has been accomplished -- the Greeks have acknowledged their need for him, Agamemnon has acknowledged his fault, Briseis is being offered back with a tremendous amount of gifts (ie honor) besides -- but Achilles still refuses to relent. His reply to Odysseus gives a glimpse of his internal conflict as he reflects on the purposelessness of the war:

'Why must the Argives battle the Trojans? Why did the son of Atreus lead the people here? Wasn't it on account of fair-haired Helen? What, do the sons of Atreus alone among mortal men love their wives?'

His turmoil goes down to the core of his identity as a warrior. No less emotional is the scene in the last book of the Iliad, where Achilles receives Priam as a supplicant for Hector's body. There, Achilles finally reaches some kind of acceptance and is able to release his anger, but not without an intense welling up of several conflicting emotions, including (among others) sorrow for his father, sympathy for Priam, sorrow for Patroclus, and a melancholy acceptance of his own mortality. In my opinion, the Aeneid never reaches this depth and complexity.


This is, of course, just one example. You get character moments like this all over Shakespeare as well as some of the better dramatists of his era. I would also argue that Milton has some wonderful interior moments in PL, especially with Satan. In other epic and romance, I would say that there are sometimes moments of insight into a character's inner state: Orlando's mad scene in Orlando Furioso might qualify, and certain passages from Tasso's Gerusaleme Liberata portray Rinaldo and others in ways similar to Aeneas' character. I would agree, however that they are not consistently "three dimensional" in the way that many of Shakespeare's characters are. Of course, I would also argue that Aeneas is not consistently this sort of character either. Book two is perhaps the most intensely interior book in part because of the first person narrative style which, much like a soliloquay, easily lends itself to interiority. There are, however, other places where there is much more emotional distance from ourselves and Aeneas the hero. Certainly he is never a character of the much more simple Beowulf type, but there are some scenes in which he leans closer to being a heroic type. This may be increasingly true as we move towards the later books and the focus shifts to a more public figure. We see more interiority toward the beginning when he is a lamenter and a lover. Incidently (and this just occured to me as I was typing) I think another sort of character that no doubt contributed to the speech you quoted above about the destruction of Troy, is that of the lamenting woman. You consistently get women characters speaking in deeply emotional terms about the horrors they've witnessed and their inner feelings about these events from the Greek tragedies to well through the Renaissance. As you point out, Virgil adapts this lament tradition in a way that makes Aeneas a distinct character--who must suppress his personal emotion to speak in his public persona etc.--rather than a type, but I think that he is drawing on a tradition of emotionally expressive characters.I assumed that drama was being excluded from the comparison for the very reason that you mentioned -- it is pretty much designed to display the emotions of the characters. A couple of examples from closer to Virgil's time come to mind. There are probably a number of scenes in the Aethiopica of Heliodorus that would rival Book 2 of the Aeneid for intensity of emotion and action, but I particulary remember Cnemon's description of his troubles in the first book as another emotional first person account. As for romance like that between Dido and Aeneas, there are lots of emotional passages in Longus' Daphnis and Chloe that would probably make good comparisons, and I believe Apollonius' Argonautica has already been mentioned in this thread (and of course the Aethiopica as well). But I guess anyone can simply dismiss them by judging that they are not as 'three-dimensional' as the passages in the Aeneid.

[Petrarch's Love]

I agree about the Illiad, Blue. I didn't really get into Homer's epics or things like the Argonautica in my post above because Virg's claim seemed to be more about what followed the Aeneid than what preceeded it, but certainly I think Homer has scenes with fairly "3-D" characters. The Heliodorus is a good example from what I vaguely remember of it. I also agree that I'm wary of terming Aeneas as, rather vaguely, "more three-dimensional," which is why I'm guessing that what Virg. is specifically interested in is a certain first person style that conveys an immediate sense of a character's interiority (though, as I did mention above, I'm not certain that Aeneas is consistently this sort of character either). Perhaps I'd better give Virg. a chance to respond though, before speculating too much about what he means. :D

[bluevictim]

I didn't really get into Homer's epics or things like the Argonautica in my post above because Virg's claim seemed to be more about what followed the Aeneid than what preceeded it, but certainly I think Homer has scenes with fairly "3-D" characters. ... I also agree that I'm wary of terming Aeneas as, rather vaguely, "more three-dimensional," which is why I'm guessing that what Virg. is specifically interested in is a certain first person style that conveys an immediate sense of a character's interiority (though, as I did mention above, I'm not certain that Aeneas is consistently this sort of character either).I did appreciate the examples you brought up, especially the comments on the passage from Richard III. I agree that King Richard's soliloquy brings the audience even more immediately into contact with his inner emotions than Aeneas' narrative in the Aeneid, and certainly anything in Homer. I guess Shakespeare kind of gets a pass since Virgil did make an exception for Hamlet (technically, I guess Milton does too since his works came after Don Quixote). Like I said before, it doesn't seem like a fair fight to allow drama in the comparison, but now that I think about it, direct access to the inner emotions can't be taken for granted in drama, either, since everything has to be inferred from a character's speech. It does seem like dramatists love emotional displays, though, and examples abound going all the way back to Aeschylus (though they're not necessarily as extensive and vivid as Shakespeare).

[Virgil]

Ah, I'm so far behind. I apologize. I probably won't get to this until tomorrow. Superbowl tonight. :) I will respond, I promise.:nod:

[Virgil]

Virg.--Ah, I see. You seem to be pointing to a dimension of interiority in Aeneas, which I agree is present in many scenes of the Aeneid. I also agree that this style of character is not present in many epics like Beowulf, or more allegorical works like Spenser's Faerie Queene.
No not exclusively interiority, but three dimensionality. Characters acting outside a fixed prescription. A stock character is taking that fixed nature to its extreme. But there are different gradations along that continum. At the furthest extreme in the rounded direction would be someone who is unpredicable and unreliable, someone like the narraator of Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier. Aeneas is not that extreme. But he is undecided as to whether to stay with Dido, he is undecided on whether to fight or flee Troy, or even the concluding killing of Turnus when Turnus asks for mercy violates his expected character. It's not just emotional exposure and complexity. Although that's there too.


Now I would, as you might say, bristle at the implication that there was something better or more profound about a character like Aeneas than the more symbolic or allegorical character, since I think either style of characterization contributes a deep reading of the human psyche, just in a different way. Indeed, in some ways allegory can deal with interior issues in fascinating ways that a speech from a character can't. I don't think you're really addressing that whole issue anyway though, so we can set that aside and agree that the character of Aeneas is a much different type than that of Beowulf.
Oh I agree. I didn't claim one was better as an artistic method. However as a nrrative technique it requires different skills, and perhaps I think more technical skill.


In my opinion this speech goes a step further than even the very powerful emotional interiority of Aeneas' character in that we hear, not only his emotional reactions to events as he relates them to others, but the inner workings of his mind as he talks to himself. It's a glimpse into the deepest private emotions of this character, conflicting emotions he is unwilling even to fully admit to himself. You also see, shortly after this speech, the way he tries to rally his troops:

This is really a brilliant little spech because it could be read isolated from the rest and come across from the perspective of a soldier listening to this as a highly public speech to his troops urging them to fight with strength and without mercy. However, as readers who have just heard the soliloquay, we have insight into just how much this address to the troops coincides with his own personal misgivings. He is trying to make it sound as though it were the men who have these "babbling dreams" or troubles with "conscience," and that they must be assured, but we know that Richard needs assurance more than anyone.
Yeah, when I made my statement I was thinking about narrative rather than drama. I can't say I understand the nature of dramatic characterization like I do narrative, but that speech is extremely complex, I agree.


This is, of course, just one example. You get character moments like this all over Shakespeare as well as some of the better dramatists of his era. I would also argue that Milton has some wonderful interior moments in PL, especially with Satan. In other epic and romance, I would say that there are sometimes moments of insight into a character's inner state: Orlando's mad scene in Orlando Furioso might qualify, and certain passages from Tasso's Gerusaleme Liberata portray Rinaldo and others in ways similar to Aeneas' character. I would agree, however that they are not consistently "three dimensional" in the way that many of Shakespeare's characters are.
You can persuade me on certain Shakespeare characters, but neither Milton's or the other epics and romances that I've read seem to reach the roundness of character of Aeneas.


Of course, I would also argue that Aeneas is not consistently this sort of character either. Book two is perhaps the most intensely interior book in part because of the first person narrative style which, much like a soliloquay, easily lends itself to interiority. There are, however, other places where there is much more emotional distance from ourselves and Aeneas the hero.
Perhaps. The second half Aeneas seems to fade from the forefront at times.

I'll respond to Blue's post in my next post.

[Petrarch's Love]

No not exclusively interiority, but three dimensionality. Characters acting outside a fixed prescription. A stock character is taking that fixed nature to its extreme. But there are different gradations along that continum. At the furthest extreme in the rounded direction would be someone who is unpredicable and unreliable, someone like the narraator of Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier. Aeneas is not that extreme. But he is undecided as to whether to stay with Dido, he is undecided on whether to fight or flee Troy, or even the concluding killing of Turnus when Turnus asks for mercy violates his expected character. It's not just emotional exposure and complexity. Although that's there too.

Well, I have to say up front that I sometimes have problems with the term "three-dimensional," as applied to characters, possibly because it tends to be used a great deal but with a very general and imprecise sense of what sort of character exactly it describes. Of course I have a general sense of what you mean by "three-dimensional," and do use the term myself to differentiate from the very flat stock character, however for the purposes of the present discussion I think it is useful to explore more fully what it is that is meant by "three-dimensional" You were off to a good start by first pointing to moments when Aeneas displays interior emotion, and I also like this idea of the more fully developed character as outside a fixed prescription; "unnpredictable and unreliable." While it may not be the fictional nature of the character himself to be unpredictable and unreliable (indeed, there are many very deeply drawn characters who are entirely dependable in their ways and utterly reliable to their fictional friends), I agree that fuller characters are often those that are real enough that the reader feels a sense that they may act in unpredictable ways: that there are many facets to this character that contribute to making a decision, and that the decision could go either way. (Incidentally, I haven't read The Good Soldier, so am unable to address that character as an example).



Yeah, when I made my statement I was thinking about narrative rather than drama. I can't say I understand the nature of dramatic characterization like I do narrative, but that speech is extremely complex, I agree.

Oh. I thought the claim was that there were no characters of any kind like Aeneas until the novel, so it seemed to me that characters in drama were fair game as examples. If we're sticking to narrative then...


You can persuade me on certain Shakespeare characters, but neither Milton's or the other epics and romances that I've read seem to reach the roundness of character of Aeneas.

O.K., let's just take the Satan character in Paradise Lost, then. Certainly not a stock character. Yes, Satan may have been a character for centuries in morality plays etc., but never a character like the one in Milton. Milton's Satan is an incredibly unpredictable voice with deep flashes of interior complexity. He comes nowhere near the fixed prescription of what any 17th century reader (indeed, probably many 21st century readers) would expect from a Satan character, nor does he follow a fixed prescription as a character even within the confines of Paradise Lost. To start with, there's his memorable opening speech from Book I:


Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,"
Said then the lost Archangel, "this the seat
That we must change for Heaven?--this mournful gloom
For that celestial light? Be it so, since he
Who now is sovereign can dispose and bid
What shall be right: farthest from him is best
Whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme
Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields,
Where joy for ever dwells! Hail, horrors! hail,
Infernal world! and thou, profoundest Hell,
Receive thy new possessor--one who brings
A mind not to be changed by place or time.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less than he
Whom thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure; and, in my choice,
To reign is worth ambition, though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.

This speech alone opens up fascinating "three-dimensional" possibilities for this character. It charts a very personal reaction to his situation: one that corresponds with mingled emotions of fear, rage, defiance, pride, etc. It is also a reaction appropriate to an address to his second in command: not entirely formal, but still full of the bravado and assurance he wishes to maintain as a leader. It would be difficult to maintain that it is a flat character who speaks of using the powers of his mind to "make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven." Statements like this imply a fairly complex thought process rather than a predictable formulaic reaction to circumstances. Later, in book II we get another side of Satan as he addresses his troops. Now, rather than his internal philosophical assesment of the situation we get his boastful speech as the great leader who will now courageously go to fight the good fight for them:


"O Progeny of Heaven! Empyreal Thrones!
With reason hath deep silence and demur
Seized us, though undismayed. Long is the way
And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.
Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire,
Outrageous to devour, immures us round
Ninefold; and gates of burning adamant,
Barred over us, prohibit all egress.
These passed, if any pass, the void profound
Of unessential Night receives him next,
Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being
Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gulf.
If thence he scape, into whatever world,
Or unknown region, what remains him less
Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape?
But I should ill become this throne, O Peers,
And this imperial sovereignty, adorned
With splendour, armed with power, if aught proposed
And judged of public moment in the shape
Of difficulty or danger, could deter
Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume
These royalties, and not refuse to reign,
Refusing to accept as great a share
Of hazard as of honour, due alike
To him who reigns, and so much to him due
Of hazard more as he above the rest
High honoured sits? Go, therefore, mighty Powers,
Terror of Heaven, though fallen; intend at home,
While here shall be our home, what best may ease
The present misery, and render Hell
More tolerable; if there be cure or charm
To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain
Of this ill mansion: intermit no watch
Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad
Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek
Deliverance for us all. This enterprise
None shall partake with me."


Finally, though, we get neither the personally defiant, nor publicly boasting view of this character at the start of book 4, but a highly complex view of a nearly repentant Satan:


Me miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And, in the lowest deep, a lower deep
Still threatening to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.
O, then, at last relent: Is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame
Among the Spirits beneath, whom I seduced
With other promises and other vaunts
Than to submit, boasting I could subdue
The Omnipotent. Ay me! they little know
How dearly I abide that boast so vain,
Under what torments inwardly I groan,
While they adore me on the throne of Hell.
With diadem and scepter high advanced,
The lower still I fall, only supreme
In misery: Such joy ambition finds.
But say I could repent, and could obtain,
By act of grace, my former state; how soon
Would highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay
What feigned submission swore? Ease would recant
Vows made in pain, as violent and void.
For never can true reconcilement grow,
Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:
Which would but lead me to a worse relapse
And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear
Short intermission bought with double smart.
This knows my Punisher; therefore as far
From granting he, as I from begging, peace;
All hope excluded thus, behold, in stead
Mankind created, and for him this world.
So farewell, hope; and with hope farewell, fear;
Farewell, remorse! all good to me is lost;
Evil, be thou my good; by thee at least
Divided empire with Heaven's King I hold,
By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign;
As Man ere long, and this new world, shall know.
Thus while he spake, each passion dimmed his face
Thrice changed with pale, ire, envy, and despair;

This passage brilliantly cues a continuity with with the character's thought pattern in his earlier speech when he proudly declared his mind a place where he could make "a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven," and twists it so that now we discover that a similar train of thought leads this character to the realization that, "myself am hell." Here we have the secret layer of misgivings that Satan is unwilling to unveil to his fellow commanders, his men, or often even to himself. The way this character is grappling with these decisions and the sort of complex interiority and multiple facets of his personality that we see as a reader make him a very "three-dimensional" character in my book. There's a feeling of suspense in this passage as to whether he will proceed with his plan or not because he is such a convincing character that one almost forgets that he is, after all, Satan and that we know the end of the story already.

[Quark]

No not exclusively interiority, but three dimensionality. Characters acting outside a fixed prescription. A stock character is taking that fixed nature to its extreme. But there are different gradations along that continum. At the furthest extreme in the rounded direction would be someone who is unpredicable and unreliable, someone like the narraator of Ford Maddox Ford's The Good Soldier.


Well, I have to say up front that I sometimes have problems with the term "three-dimensional," as applied to characters, possibly because it tends to be used a great deal but with a very general and imprecise sense of what sort of character exactly it describes.

Do you mean that Virgil creates Aeneas with many different characteristics (sides)? That his makeup is complex and multi-part? I could understand this. Book II probably isn't the best book to make this point in, but I definitely do agree that Aeneas is formed through many different experiences and conflicts. Satan from Paradise Lost could be seen as lacking this expansiveness of characterization. Satan does have a deeper interiority, but his depth appears more as a consequence of his initial characterization than it does as another side of his personality. It follows (or it's supposed to follow) that Satan's self-love and pride will naturally lead him to the conflicts and crises he experiences. Satan's speech above Earth doesn't expose new sides of the evil archangel; it just describes the emotional effects of his character. Aeneas differs from Satan in that he does have multiple motives and characteristics. Listen to him in Book VI:

Infelix Dido, verus mihi nuntius ergo
venerat exstinctum ferroroque extrema secutam?
Funeris heu tibi causa fui? Per sidera juro,
per superos et si qua fides tellure sub ima est,
invitus, regina, tuo de litore cessi.
Sed me jussa deum, quae nunc has ire per umbras,
per loca senta situ cogunt noctemque profundam,
imperiis egere suis; nec credere quivi
hunc tantum tibi me discessu ferre dolorem.
Siste gradum teque aspectu ne substrahe nostro. (VI, 456-65)

"Unhappy Dido, so they told me truly that your own hand had brought you death. Was I--alas--the cause? I swear by all the stars, by the world above, by everything held sacred here under this Earth, unwillingly, O queen, I left your kingdom. But the gods' commands, driving me now through these forsaken places, this utter night, compelled me on. I could not believe my loss would cause so great a sorrow. Linger a moment, do not leave me"

Aeneas shows two desires in this section: staying with Dido and following the gods. I'll admit that he doesn't go to great lengths to describe these desires, but they are present and separate. Another example might be Aeneas' troubled relationship with his past. He says of the people by the river Lethe:

O pater, anne aliquas ad caelum hinc ire putandum est
sublimis animas iterumque ad tarda reverti
corpora? Quae lucis miseris tam dira cupido (VI, 719-21)

"O father, is it possible that souls would leave this blessedness, be willing a second time to bear the sluggish body, trade paradise for Earth? Alas, poor wretches, why such mad desire for light?"

None of Aeneas' conflicts, though, are explored with much depth. Compared with Satan's dramatic monologues in Paradise Lost Aeneas' short laments are rather inexpressive. Aeneas' characterization, while being very expansive, doesn't go to great depth. If we want to keep making this geometrical we could say that this makes Aeneas broadly two-dimensional and Satan deeply one-dimensional. To put it in more philosophical (or descriptive?) terms: the psychological aspects of a character (desires and social consciousness) would make up the plane on which Aeneas is expansive, and the human faculties which Milton depicts like reason and emotion would be the z-axis in which Satan is deep.

I get this part of what you're saying Virgil, but where does unpredictability come into this? I think Aeneas is pretty obvious. Earlier, I thought you were saying the same thing.

[Virgil]

It's interesting that you find Aeneas to be more 'three-dimensional' than the characters in Homer. I've always (and still do, I guess) regarded the Aeneid in general, and Aeneas in particular, to lack the depth of the Homeric epics and their main characters.

Why do I get the feeling that there is nothing to Blue that is superior in The Aeneid than anything in Homer? :lol: Not a single thing.


For all the intensity of Aeneas' emotions, however, they are fairly simple.
But what do you mean by simple? Love, dilemma between duty and love, destruction of one's city? By that standard Achille's anger is simple or Agamemnon's stubbornness is simple. In fact both seem simpler than Aeneas' emotions to me.


Whether it's horror from witnessing atrocities of war, or anxiety for the welfare of his family, or the reluctance to abandon his country, there really isn't anything particularly deep or complex.
Well, I frankly disagree. Those are complex enotions. All emotions are complex. It's the delineation of the emotion that comes across as simple. That's what separates a great writer from an amateur. If you feel that Virgil doesn't rise to the level of a great writer, than I think there are hordes of critics who would disagree.



I don't feel that there is anything in the Aeneid to match, for example, the emotional complexity of Book 9 of the Iliad, where Odysseus, Ajax, and Phoenix try to persuade Achilles to return to the fighting. In that passage, we find that the anger of Achilles goes deeper than merely being offended because Agamemnon took Briseis from him. His original purpose has been accomplished -- the Greeks have acknowledged their need for him, Agamemnon has acknowledged his fault, Briseis is being offered back with a tremendous amount of gifts (ie honor) besides -- but Achilles still refuses to relent. His reply to Odysseus gives a glimpse of his internal conflict as he reflects on the purposelessness of the war:

'Why must the Argives battle the Trojans? Why did the son of Atreus lead the people here? Wasn't it on account of fair-haired Helen? What, do the sons of Atreus alone among mortal men love their wives?'

That's certainly an interesting quote. The psychological complexity is there, even more so than you might think, because I don't believe that Achilles believes in his heart that statement. It would contradict the theme of Kleos. Good find. Still I don't find the characters in the Illiad are as three dimensional than Aeneas. Odysseus in The Illiad acts as the cagey shyster, Ajax tha macho man, and Achilles the spoiled superstar. Where do they build on that fixed nature? I have said that The illiad is the greater work, but mainly because of the complexity of the situation and plotting and structure. It has very interesting characters, but while I'm not saying they're flat characters, they're not the roundest either. The complexity of the scene you site is based on competing motivations of the three characters, not because each character is extremely deep.


His turmoil goes down to the core of his identity as a warrior. No less emotional is the scene in the last book of the Iliad, where Achilles receives Priam as a supplicant for Hector's body. There, Achilles finally reaches some kind of acceptance and is able to release his anger, but not without an intense welling up of several conflicting emotions, including (among others) sorrow for his father, sympathy for Priam, sorrow for Patroclus, and a melancholy acceptance of his own mortality. In my opinion, the Aeneid never reaches this depth and complexity.
Yes, I agree. Achilles becomes human in that concluding scene, and there he finally becomes three dimensonal. But it is at the end of the story, and that is significant in plotting and characterization. There is one other character that I think approaches three dimensionality, and that is Hector. Two places: That scene with Andromache and his child captures Hector between his duty to his country and saving his family and his honor. But I'm afraid it's not fully developed in my opinion. The other place where Hector surprisingly violates his "fixed" character is when he faces Achilles and while at first his courage holds, but ultimately he panics and runs. But other than these minor places I still maintain the characters of The Illiad are not as three dimensional as Aeneas.


I assumed that drama was being excluded from the comparison for the very reason that you mentioned -- it is pretty much designed to display the emotions of the characters. A couple of examples from closer to Virgil's time come to mind. There are probably a number of scenes in the Aethiopica of Heliodorus that would rival Book 2 of the Aeneid for intensity of emotion and action, but I particulary remember Cnemon's description of his troubles in the first book as another emotional first person account. As for romance like that between Dido and Aeneas, there are lots of emotional passages in Longus' Daphnis and Chloe that would probably make good comparisons, and I believe Apollonius' Argonautica has already been mentioned in this thread (and of course the Aethiopica as well). But I guess anyone can simply dismiss them by judging that they are not as 'three-dimensional' as the passages in the Aeneid.
You may be right about drama. I don't know drama as well as narrative. Perhaps there is something about an actor in flesh and blood on a stage that allows for more depth. I'll retract my statement as it regards drama.

[Virgil]

Well, I have to say up front that I sometimes have problems with the term "three-dimensional," as applied to characters, possibly because it tends to be used a great deal but with a very general and imprecise sense of what sort of character exactly it describes. Of course I have a general sense of what you mean by "three-dimensional," and do use the term myself to differentiate from the very flat stock character, however for the purposes of the present discussion I think it is useful to explore more fully what it is that is meant by "three-dimensional" You were off to a good start by first pointing to moments when Aeneas displays interior emotion, and I also like this idea of the more fully developed character as outside a fixed prescription; "unnpredictable and unreliable." While it may not be the fictional nature of the character himself to be unpredictable and unreliable (indeed, there are many very deeply drawn characters who are entirely dependable in their ways and utterly reliable to their fictional friends), I agree that fuller characters are often those that are real enough that the reader feels a sense that they may act in unpredictable ways: that there are many facets to this character that contribute to making a decision, and that the decision could go either way. (Incidentally, I haven't read The Good Soldier, so am unable to address that character as an example).

Read The Good Soldier, BTW. It's a good read. ;) Yes there are dependable characters who are three dimensional. Actually my mind just flashed with Marlow from Conrad's Heart of Darkness. He reminds me of Aeneas for some reason.


Oh. I thought the claim was that there were no characters of any kind like Aeneas until the novel, so it seemed to me that characters in drama were fair game as examples. If we're sticking to narrative then...
:lol: I'm sorry my statement caused so much controversy. Now it's a game to prove me wrong. ;)


O.K., let's just take the Satan character in Paradise Lost, then....
Good point about Satan. He is rather complex. Hmm. I may have to amend my statement.

[Virgil]

Do you mean that Virgil creates Aeneas with many different characteristics (sides)? That his makeup is complex and multi-part? I could understand this.
Yes, and the fact his sides are in conflict with themselves.




Book II probably isn't the best book to make this point in, but I definitely do agree that Aeneas is formed through many different experiences and conflicts. Satan from Paradise Lost could be seen as lacking this expansiveness of characterization.
Satan is complex, but you're right I don't think he has as many sides as Aeneas.


None of Aeneas' conflicts, though, are explored with much depth. Compared with Satan's dramatic monologues in Paradise Lost Aeneas' short laments are rather inexpressive. Aeneas' characterization, while being very expansive, doesn't go to great depth. If we want to keep making this geometrical we could say that this makes Aeneas broadly two-dimensional and Satan deeply one-dimensional. To put it in more philosophical (or descriptive?) terms: the psychological aspects of a character (desires and social consciousness) would make up the plane on which Aeneas is expansive, and the human faculties which Milton depicts like reason and emotion would be the z-axis in which Satan is deep.
I'm an engineer and I deal with z-axis as well as x and y axises but I must say I don't know what you mean here. :p



I get this part of what you're saying Virgil, but where does unpredictability come into this? I think Aeneas is pretty obvious. Earlier, I thought you were saying the same thing.
I mentioned the ending where he out of character doesn't mercifully spare Turnus. I think there is an intellectual piint that Virgil is making there, and I'll bring it up when we get there. But I think there are others. I'll highlight them when we get to them.


Hey,to all, whether you agree with me or not, let's move on to other issues. If you want to rebutt anything I've said feel free, but I'm afraid we've gone off topic.

[bluevictim]

Why do I get the feeling that there is nothing to Blue that is superior in The Aeneid than anything in Homer? :lol: Not a single thing.Your feeling is kind of surprising to me because, as far as I can tell, my post above (about my impression that the Homeric epics were deeper and more complex than the Aeneid) was the only time I asserted Homer's superiority in any respect, and in the same post I said that Virgil's portrayal of emotion was more vivid than Homer's. But I'm sure I'm not immune to the lack of awareness of how others perceive me that is so common on the internet, so it's enlightening to hear your impression. :)


Odysseus in The Illiad acts as the cagey shyster, Ajax tha macho man, and Achilles the spoiled superstar. Where do they build on that fixed nature?I guess if this is your understanding of the Iliad, it makes sense that you consider Aeneas more 'three-dimensional'. I thought maybe there was some deep complexity about Aeneas that I had missed.


I have said that The illiad is the greater workThis is remarkable indeed, given your take on the main characters in that poem!

[bluevictim]

I think it's interesting to compare Aeneas' behavior in Book 2 with Hector's behavior in the Iliad.

Both of them faced the decision of whether to do the heroic thing -- fight and risk death, or to do the prudent thing (prudent both for themselves and their country) -- escape the immediate danger. And both of them were appealed to by their close relations to do the prudent thing.

In Book 22 of the Iliad, the Trojans were being routed by the Greeks and Achilles was coming after Hector. All the Trojans were taking refuge in the city walls, except Hector, who waited outside to meet Achilles in combat. Hector's father and mother each make a long, passionate speech begging Hector to take refuge in the walls. Earlier, when he left the fighting for a quick errand in the city, his wife had begged him to stay in the city rather than to go out to the fighting. Hector ignores all of these pleas and fights Achilles, partly out of guilt because the rout was a result of a decision made by Hector, against the advice of Polydamas, to stay out in the plain. This results in his death and the desecration of his body by Achilles, and, with Hector's death, all hope for Troy (and Hector's family) is lost.

Aeneas faces a similar situation in Book 2 of the Aeneid. The Greeks are overwhelming the Trojans, and Aeneas must decide whether to heroically make a suicidal last stand against the Greeks or to abandon Troy and run for the hills. He also received appeals to get out of harm's way, from Hector, his mother, and his wife. Unlike Hector, Aeneas dutifully obeys the appeals and makes his escape from Troy, thus saving his family (except his wife) and preserving the Trojan race.

The correspondence between the two scenarios is far from perfect (an important difference is that Aeneas is commanded to escape by dead spirits and a goddess, unlike the living mortals that were pleading with Hector), but the comparison brings out one of the main themes of the Aeneid -- the conflicting demands of individual emotions and the good of the whole. As an epic celebrating the new empire of Augustus, the good of the whole consistently wins out in the Aeneid, but part of the genius of Virgil is that the demands of individuals are never trivially dismissed. I feel it is very easy to identify with Aeneas' desire to make one last courageous stand and die defending Troy. It seems that Virgil is aware of this, and he goes to great lengths to justify what could be construed as Aeneas' cowardice. In fact, it almost seems like the desire to justify Aeneas' actions was too conspicuous (Hector's ghost, the goddess Venus, the flame on Iulus' head, a sacred thundering meteor, Creusa's ghost -- ok! ok! we get it already -- it's Aeneas' destiny to run away).

[Petrarch's Love]

I'm sorry my statement caused so much controversy. Now it's a game to prove me wrong.

:lol: You are not; you love controversy. ;) Looks like you and Quasi and Blue have some good thoughts afloat. I'll be out of town in Yosemite and then occupied with flying back to Chicago for the next several days, but I'll look forward to seeing what sort of battle is being waged a week or so from now when I check back in. Shaping up to be a good fight with the heroes of the Illiad versus Aeneas, and Satan mixed up in the middle somehow. :D

[Quark]

I'm an engineer and I deal with z-axis as well as x and y axises but I must say I don't know what you mean here. :p

Ha, now you know how I feel. I was just trying to distinguish between your "three-dimensional" character and Petrarch's "facets of personality". I guess I just made things worse.


Hey,to all, whether you agree with me or not, let's move on to other issues. If you want to rebutt anything I've said feel free, but I'm afraid we've gone off topic.

That's probably best. I did learn a lot through the discussion, but I think I learned more about the people arguing than I did about The Aeneid.


In fact, it almost seems like the desire to justify Aeneas' actions was too conspicuous (Hector's ghost, the goddess Venus, the flame on Iulus' head, a sacred thundering meteor, Creusa's ghost -- ok! ok! we get it already -- it's Aeneas' destiny to run away).

I didn't think that that was just thrown in there for justification. It's there to portray Aeneas' link to the divine. It's not just that Aeneas is loyal to the group, but he's also following the advice of the gods. You're right that Aeneas is different from Hector in that he's more community-minded. The reason that Aeneas gives such importance to community, though, has little to do with the people themselves. It has more to do with the fact that this group of Trojans is somehow divinely favored. Obviously, Aeneas does have a strong attachment to these people--they're kith and kin after all. But, it seems like the main reason he's willing to die for them is because they're on this god-inspired mission to Rome. Often, Aeneas completely ignores the wishes of the other Trojans because they clash with Aeneas' spiritual plan for his people. In Book IV we'll see that Aeneas' crew would have been happy enough to party in Carthage, but, no, Aeneas has to haul up the anchor and sail to the other side of the known world. This will happen a few times. None of this is to say that Aeneas is callous to the needs of the Trojans, but I do think that it's important to remember that his goals are divine--and not social--in origin.

[Virgil]

Your feeling is kind of surprising to me because, as far as I can tell, my post above (about my impression that the Homeric epics were deeper and more complex than the Aeneid) was the only time I asserted Homer's superiority in any respect, and in the same post I said that Virgil's portrayal of emotion was more vivid than Homer's. But I'm sure I'm not immune to the lack of awareness of how others perceive me that is so common on the internet, so it's enlightening to hear your impression. :)

I'm sorry blue. Sometimes I push the envelope of rudeness. Check out my blog where I ask people if I'm rude. Feel free to tell me.


This is remarkable indeed, given your take on the main characters in that poem!
No really, all I've said is that Aeneas is the most three dimensional character I've come across up until the novel. That doesn't mean that it's better than other works.



I think it's interesting to compare Aeneas' behavior in Book 2 with Hector's behavior in the Iliad.

Both of them faced the decision of whether to do the heroic thing -- fight and risk death, or to do the prudent thing (prudent both for themselves and their country) -- escape the immediate danger. And both of them were appealed to by their close relations to do the prudent thing.

In Book 22 of the Iliad, the Trojans were being routed by the Greeks and Achilles was coming after Hector. All the Trojans were taking refuge in the city walls, except Hector, who waited outside to meet Achilles in combat. Hector's father and mother each make a long, passionate speech begging Hector to take refuge in the walls. Earlier, when he left the fighting for a quick errand in the city, his wife had begged him to stay in the city rather than to go out to the fighting. Hector ignores all of these pleas and fights Achilles, partly out of guilt because the rout was a result of a decision made by Hector, against the advice of Polydamas, to stay out in the plain. This results in his death and the desecration of his body by Achilles, and, with Hector's death, all hope for Troy (and Hector's family) is lost.

Aeneas faces a similar situation in Book 2 of the Aeneid. The Greeks are overwhelming the Trojans, and Aeneas must decide whether to heroically make a suicidal last stand against the Greeks or to abandon Troy and run for the hills. He also received appeals to get out of harm's way, from Hector, his mother, and his wife. Unlike Hector, Aeneas dutifully obeys the appeals and makes his escape from Troy, thus saving his family (except his wife) and preserving the Trojan race.

The correspondence between the two scenarios is far from perfect (an important difference is that Aeneas is commanded to escape by dead spirits and a goddess, unlike the living mortals that were pleading with Hector), but the comparison brings out one of the main themes of the Aeneid -- the conflicting demands of individual emotions and the good of the whole. As an epic celebrating the new empire of Augustus, the good of the whole consistently wins out in the Aeneid, but part of the genius of Virgil is that the demands of individuals are never trivially dismissed. I feel it is very easy to identify with Aeneas' desire to make one last courageous stand and die defending Troy. It seems that Virgil is aware of this, and he goes to great lengths to justify what could be construed as Aeneas' cowardice. In fact, it almost seems like the desire to justify Aeneas' actions was too conspicuous (Hector's ghost, the goddess Venus, the flame on Iulus' head, a sacred thundering meteor, Creusa's ghost -- ok! ok! we get it already -- it's Aeneas' destiny to run away).
Very good comparison. At some point I was going to bring up that the Romans favorite character from Homer was Hector. Achilles was admired too, but Achilles was too self centered for Roman values. It was always about himself, and the Roman military absolutely discouraged that. Let me also say that Odysseus was actually hated by the Romans. Where are Odysseus's men? Lost, dead. If a Roman commander came back from war or battle without his men, he would have been disgraced and made to commit suicide. In fact he would not have come back alone. He would have fallen on his sword at the battle's end. No, Odysseus coming back to his home alone did not sit well with the Romans. Plus Odysseus was crafty and sneaky, and that too was seen as unRoman. I bring that up because in many respects, Aeneas stands in contradistinction to Odysseus.


:lol: You are not; you love controversy. ;)
;)


I didn't think that that was just thrown in there for justification. It's there to portray Aeneas' link to the divine. It's not just that Aeneas is loyal to the group, but he's also following the advice of the gods. You're right that Aeneas is different from Hector in that he's more community-minded.
Did I say that? They're both community minded. I do see more religion and piety in Aeneas. I don't recall Hector praying to the gods. He may have. But they are quite similar in many respects.


The reason that Aeneas gives such importance to community, though, has little to do with the people themselves. It has more to do with the fact that this group of Trojans is somehow divinely favored. Obviously, Aeneas does have a strong attachment to these people--they're kith and kin after all. But, it seems like the main reason he's willing to die for them is because they're on this god-inspired mission to Rome. Often, Aeneas completely ignores the wishes of the other Trojans because they clash with Aeneas' spiritual plan for his people.
Interesting take. They're kind of interlinked. I don't know if one could separate the two issues apart.


In Book IV we'll see that Aeneas' crew would have been happy enough to party in Carthage, but, no, Aeneas has to haul up the anchor and sail to the other side of the known world. This will happen a few times. None of this is to say that Aeneas is callous to the needs of the Trojans, but I do think that it's important to remember that his goals are divine--and not social--in origin.
Good points. Now you have e thinking. But Aeneas is the leader and the men need to follow.

[Virgil]

I guess I should push the discussion forward. Sorry if I've been dragging my feet. I'm involved two other discussions (DH Lawrence short story thread and the book of the month forum, which happens to be The Name of the Rose) so i've had to split my reading time up and my time to post serious threads.

A couple of interesting points about Book III, but I'll only get to one of them in this post. Book III is the travel log from the evacuation of Troy to landing on Carthege's shores. I'm not sure what the time span is, but i take it to be years. There are several stops, all looking for a homeland. There's the stop in Thrace where they find they find Polydorus, the youngest son of Priam, who was treacherously slain. Again we see Aeneas making right with the gods by giving him a proper burial. After a few other stops they land at Buthrotum, north of Greece, where they meet Helenus, one of Priam's sons that survived and Adromache, Hector's wife, who is now married to Helenus. She recounts the travails of her life and how she ended up there. Two things are interesting here. One, we see the sufferring again that the Trojans endured. This is a book of suffering all around, not just Aeneas. Even Achilles's son finds his tragic fate. The second thing is how a second Troy has been established. After Andromach has finished telling her history and she asks a bunch of questions to Aeneas, Aeneas narrates the following:

"A torrent of questions--weeping futile tears,
she sobs her long lament as Priam's warrior son,
Heleuns, comes from the walls with full cortege.
Recognizing his kin, he gladly leads us home,
each word of welcome breaking through his tears.
And as I walk, I recognize a little Troy,
a miniature, mimicking our great Trojan towers,
and a dried-up brook they call the river Xanthus,
and I put my arms around a a cutdown Scaean Gate.
And all my Trojans join me,
drinking deep of a Trojan's city welcome.
The King ushered us into generous colonnades,
in the heart of the court we offered Bachus wine
and feasted from golden plates all cups held high.
(l. 409-422)
A second Troy, a new homeland already established. So why does Aeneas and his men feel the need to move on? Obviously this would have been tempting. But unlike with Dido and in Carthege, the temptation is not dramatised. The will of the gods is prophetised and they must move on. The very next stanza, Aeneas asks Helnus for advice:

"Now time wears on, day in, day out, and the breezes
lure our sails, a Southwind rippling in our canvas.
So i approached the prophet-king with questions:
'Son of Troy and seer of the gods, you know the will
of Phoebus Apollo, know his Clarian tripods and his laurel,
know the stars, the cries of birds, the omens quick on the wing.
Please, tell me--all the signs foretold me a happy voyage,
yes, and the will of all the gods impels me now
to sail for Italy, seek that far off land.
The Harpy Calaeno alone fortold a monstrous sign,
chanting out the unspeakable--withering wrath to come
and the ghostly pangs of famine. What dangers, tell me,
to steer away from first? What course to set
to master these ordeals?
(l. 423-436)
Helenus who is a seer, can only tell him a few events of the future and is forbidden to fully tell completely. But here is an interesting opening section of Helenus's speech:

'Son of the goddess, surely proof is clear,
the highest sanctions shine upon your voyage.
So the King of the Gods has sorted out your fate,
so rolls your life, as the world rolls through its changes.
(l. 443-6)
The god's are with Aeneas, even if they throw obstacles in his way. One feels it's because of Aeneas's piety, his religious respect and fullfillment at every turn. I don't think there's an incident in the epic where Aeneas doesn't perform his religious obligations.

[Virgil]

I apologize for being so tardy on this thread. I've been balancing a lot of things, a busy work schedule, a busy home schedule, and a busy lit et schedule, between other reads and writing for the recent poetry contest. My time has been squeezed.

But here's the other point I wanted to highlight from Book III. In the course of the travels, Aeneas lands in Sicily and encounters a Greek from Ulysses's men who had accidentally been left behind, a fellow by the name Achaemenides. He is desparete and begs the Trojans to take him. He says,

"I beg you, Trojans, beg by the stars, the gods above,
the clear bright air we breath--sail me off and away!
Anywhere, any land you please, that's all I want.
I am, I confess, a man from the Greek fleets,
I admit, I fought to seize your household gods.
For that, if my crime against you is so whicked,
rip me to bits and fling the bits in the sea,
plunge me into the depths! If die I must,
death at the hands of men will be a joy!"

"With that,
he clutched my knees and kneeling, groveling, clung fast.
We press him hard--who is he? Who are his parents?
What rough fortune has driven him to despair?
Father Anchises, barely pausing, gives the man his hand
and the friendly gesture lifts the stranger's spirits.
Setting his fears aside, he starts out with his story:

Two things are important here. First this man parallels the same man who helped bring down Troy, Sinon, who had apperently been left behind in Troy while the treacherous Greeks hid in the horse. Achaemenides can be another treacherous Greek. But the compassion of the Trojans, especially that of Father Anchises, helps the man despite (a) being of the people who destroyed their homeland and (b) despite the possiblilty of this being another treacherous trap. This certainly suggests the Christian compassion that would make this epic so important to the subsequent Christian culture. And Achaemenides returns the compassion later by helping them first escape Polyphemus, the cyclops, but also by helping them navigate through Scylla and Charybdis.

The second significance to the Achaemenides episode is that it also parallels the epic's conclusion at the end of Book XII. There Turnus in the same manner, clutching Aeneas's knees, asks for mercy. But there Aeneas in contrast (and this is one of the reasons why I say he's so three dimensional) impulsively does not grant mercy. This situation with Achaemenides is clearly a foreshadow and contrasting scene.

Now onto the fabulous Book IV, f anyone cares. ;)

[Quark]

Two things are important here. First this man parallels the same man who helped bring down Troy, Sinon, who had apperently been left behind in Troy while the treacherous Greeks hid in the horse. Achaemenides can be another treacherous Greek. But the compassion of the Trojans, especially that of Father Anchises, helps the man despite (a) being of the people who destroyed their homeland and (b) despite the possiblilty of this being another treacherous trap. This certainly suggests the Christian compassion that would make this epic so important to the subsequent Christian culture. And Achaemenides returns the compassion later by helping them first escape Polyphemus, the cyclops, but also by helping them navigate through Scylla and Charybdis.

Aeneas certainly is kind-hearted for an epic hero. I suppose that's what creates the ever-recurring conflict between the generous thing that Aeneas could do and the god-ordained "right" thing to do. It's sort of odd that he would actually be allowed to act compassionately here when he's so often tormented in other cases.


The second significance to the Achaemenides episode is that it also parallels the epic's conclusion at the end of Book XII. There Turnus in the same manner, clutching Aeneas's knees, asks for mercy. But there Aeneas in contrast (and this is one of the reasons why I say he's so three dimensional) impulsively does not grant mercy. This situation with Achaemenides is clearly a foreshadow and contrasting scene.

Well, the later episode with Turnus might be a little different. We'll have to talk about it when we get there.


Now onto the fabulous Book IV,

Good, Book IV is one the better ones.


if anyone cares. ;)

I think it was just Book III may have bored us. There isn't much there.

[Virgil]

Aeneas certainly is kind-hearted for an epic hero. I suppose that's what creates the ever-recurring conflict between the generous thing that Aeneas could do and the god-ordained "right" thing to do. It's sort of odd that he would actually be allowed to act compassionately here when he's so often tormented in other cases.

Yes I agree.


Well, the later episode with Turnus might be a little different. We'll have to talk about it when we get there.
That's what I was thinking.


Good, Book IV is one the better ones.
A great one. :) Glad someone is still with me.


I think it was just Book III may have bored us. There isn't much there.
I liked Book III. It had a lot of good short scenes, all condensed though. I didn't even mention the passing of Aeneas's father. And some good poetry in there too.

[Quark]

Virgil, do you want to post an intro to Book IV? Or can I just blurt something out to start the discussion?

[mortalterror]

If I may, I'd like to address, some of Virgil's influences. A great deal has been made up to now of Homer and the effect of either the Iliad or the Odyssey on Virgil's work. I thought that Apollonius' Argonautica went a bit farther, but there were so many omitted that I just had to chime in. Now, I could say that Gilgamesh was a possible influence. It's possible. A demi-god hero founds a city, struggles with monsters, and journeys to a land beyond death. Or I could mention the myth of Er from book X of Plato's Republic, with it's vision of the afterlife. There's something to be said about Virgil imitating Theocritus in his Eclogues, or Hesiod in his Georgics; but what I'd rather talk about is placing the Aeneid in the genre of war narratives contemporary with it's time. Specifically, I'd like to talk about Book II, which is far and away my favorite part of the epic.

the defenders
Wrenched out upperworks and rooftiles: these
For missiles, as they saw the end, preparing
To fight back even on the edge of death.
And gilded beams, ancestral ornaments,
They rolled down on the heads below.
-lines 584-589 Aeneid, Fitzgerald translation

In this excerpt, the defenders have moved beyond a structured, logical warfare. They've thrown their spears, broken their swords, fire is raging all around them, and they are grasping random missiles that come to hand in a vain attempt to keep the enemy back. There is an air of panic, of desperation, of fierce struggle and minute concrete details in this book which I think argues for either first hand or second hand experience of warfare. This isn't the usual, so and so stabbed so and so who bit the dust, and rosy fingered dawn blah blah blah. This is very specific. Just before this passage, we are treated to an example of a the Greek soldiers arraying their shields in a tortoise shell fashion, one atop the other, a formation riot police use to this day. I think that Virgil would have had ample opportunity to either see or hear about these sorts of things as warfare was so common in his day. Virgil would have lived through Actium. Before that he would have witnessed Octavian and company battling Brutus and Cassius. Before that there was the civil war with Pompey and Caesar. Speaking of which, Caesar would have published his narrative of the Gallic War:

The enemy being alarmed by the suddenness of the attack, were dislodged from the wall and towers, and drew up, in form of a wedge, in the market-place and the open streets, with this intention that, if an attack should be made on any side, they should fight with their line drawn up to receive it. When they saw no one descending to the level ground, and the enemy extending themselves along the entire wall in every direction, fearing lest every hope of flight should be cut off, they cast away their arms, and sought, without stopping, the most remote parts of the town. A part was then slain by the infantry when they were crowding upon one another in the narrow passage of the gates; and a part having got without the gates, were cut to pieces by the cavalry: nor was there one who was anxious for the plunder. Thus, being excited by the massacre at Genabum and the fatigue of the siege, they spared neither those worn out with years, women, or children. Finally, out of all that number, which amounted to about forty thousand, scarcely eight hundred, who fled from the town when they heard the first alarm, reached Vercingetorix in safety -The Gallic War, Book VII, Ch. 28 Translated by W. A. McDevitte and W. S. Bohn

Not to mention that the history books of Livy were just coming into fashion at this time, and there you can find both descriptions of bloody battles and admiration for a worthy opponent. Livy's desriptions of Hannibal and Carthage would have been on the lips of every well read Roman elite of Virgil's time, and I might add that Livy's history also stretches from the foundation of Rome to events clear up to his own time. You can see a lot of Roman's trying to do the same thing, glorifying the state and codifying it's history, trying to work out an official line now that they were the masters of the universe. Something similar is going on in American culture where there's this obsession with writing the Great American novel that's supposed to accurately depict and encapsulate the American experience. But however good historical accounts of conflicts can be, they tend to be written in the third person, and somewhat removed from the scene of action and energy. You don't get the same charge as you would from Aeneas' first person version. This perspective, along with the concrete details, really helps the readers feel like they're there, all this is actually happening, until the supernatural stuff starts breaking that fourth wall.

,,,Pompeius you were first of all my friends,
With you we saw the slow days to their ends,
And crowned our shining hair,
Scenting the Syrian air.
With you I felt Philippi, the swift flight,
The shield I flung away in the lost fight,
Smashed valor, brave mouths found
Biting the dirty ground.
Swift Mercury had wrapped me in dark air
And bore me through the enemy full of fear:
But the wave sucked you in
To the storms of war again...
-Book 2, Ode 7 of Horaces Odes translated by Peter Levi

What's really weird here is that Horace was actually at the battle of Philippi, where Octavians forces crushed Brutus, fighting on Brutus' side. He's dealing with events from his personal history and then injecting the supernatural convention, possibly as a joke. Horace's friend has to slug it out, but Horace himself escapes in a cloud. In the Iliad Aeneas also is shrouded and rescued from Diomedes, first by Aphrodite his mother, and then by Apollo. This may be where the convention starts. I might also point out that Horace was friends with Virgil. He wrote about him and wrote to him, so they might have compared notes on this sort of thing. As often as people compare Fitzgerald and Hemingway, I'm surprised nobody has mentioned the influence Horace might have had on Virgil.

[Virgil]

Interesting post Mortal. I'm sure like most Romans Virgil would have been familiar with actual battle. I'm aware that Horace actually backed the Brutus conspirators, but I'm not sure what were Virgil's sympathies during the civil wars.

I would have to say I'm skeptical that Virgil was familiar with Gilgamesh. I am not aware there was a translation available to the classical world. I would even bet there were not even aware of its existance.

[mortalterror]

I'm aware that the Gilgamesh influence would be a stretch, and that if there were any it probably wouldn't have been direct. I was just throwing something out there. I didn't mean that Virgil would have read Gilgamesh directly, but Rome did trade with the Persians and the Parthians, where the story would have been known; so I figure elements of the culture could have been transplanted to Roman soil, the way we find distorted tales of The Odyssey in the Arabian Nights.

Rome was a much less homogeneous place in Virgil's time than the Roman's themselves like to make out. Aside from the trade, they had slaves of every nation, which were often instructed with educating Roman children. I figure rich Roman's might have picked up a little multi-culturalism from their nannies the way rich American children are frequently exposed to hispanic culture today. There's the Greek influence, which the Roman's proudly admit to, but what about the Etruscan culture that was in Italy before the Romans? I've heard that Rome was actually founded by Etruscans before it was taken over by the Latins and The Aeneid is just a whitewash to cover up the Roman's true past. No doubt, the Etruscan's had stories and rituals which would have been assimilated into Roman culture, and whether they are present in the Aeneid I do not know.

Another influence not often cited would have been Quintus Ennius, the father of Roman poetry. His poetry was the standard educational text for Roman children before Virgil came along, and so no doubt Virgil would have been aware of him. Ennius wrote an epic called The Annals which covered the history of the Roman people from the mythical fall of Troy down to the time of Cato the Elder. What I'm getting at is that Virgil wrote in a number of traditions, with any number of obvious, and sometimes subtle influences on his work.

[Virgil]

Glad you're joining this discussion Mortal. You bring up good points. :)

[Virgil]

Oh this is so sad. Thanks to Quasi for directing me to this. Robert Fagles, the translator of The Aeneid version i've been using has passed away. From the New York Times:


Robert Fagles, Translator of the Classics, Dies at 74
By CHARLES McGRATH

Published: March 29, 2008
Robert Fagles, the renowned translator of Latin and Greek whose versions of Homer and Virgil were unlikely best sellers and became fixtures on classroom reading lists, died on Wednesday at his home in Princeton, N.J., where he was an emeritus professor at Princeton University. He was 74.

Mr. Fagles translated Aeschylus and Sophocles, among other authors, but he is most famous for his versions of “The Iliad,” published in 1990; “The Odyssey,” in 1996; and “The Aeneid,” which came out in 2006. All were published by Viking.

He is one of very few translators to have taken on all three of the great classical epics — something that not even Pope attempted — and all three have sold millions of copies, both in print and in audio versions narrated by Derek Jacobi, Ian McKellen and Simon Callow.

Their success was due largely to Mr. Fagles’s gifts as a writer. He was not an exactingly literal translator but rather one who sought to reinterpret the classics in a contemporary idiom. He once compared his job to writing Braille for the blind, and said that he imagined in a generation or two that someone would have to come along and re-Braille it.

While faithful to the spirit and intent of the original, his translations were remarkable for their narrative energy and verve. His “Iliad” and “Odyssey” had a Homeric swagger, said the poet Paul Muldoon, a colleague at Princeton, who also compared Mr. Fagles’s epic vision to that of film directors like Sergio Leone and Sam Peckinpah.

His version of Virgil’s “Aeneid,” for example, has a natural, unforced syntax and language that are at once heightened and colloquial as he describes the Trojan horse being pulled into the city:

We breach our own ramparts, fling our defenses open,
all pitch into the work. Smooth running rollers
we wheel beneath its hoofs, and heavy hempen ropes
we bind around its neck, and teeming with men-at-arms
the huge deadly engine climbs our city walls.

Robert Fagles was born in Philadelphia on Sept. 11, 1933. His father, a lawyer, died when Mr. Fagles was 14, an event that he later said made him particularly susceptible to the persistent father-son theme in classical literature. He was reared by his mother, who was trained as an architect but who never became a practicing one.

His high school, Lower Merion, in Ardmore, Pa., offered Latin, but Mr. Fagles took German, because the German teacher was popular. He did not become interested in the classics until his freshman year, in 1952, at Amherst College, where he began as a pre-med student and later switched to English. He studied Latin and Greek on the side at Amherst — “smuggling it in,” he later said — and did the same at the Yale Graduate School, where he got his Ph.D. in English in 1959.

One of his classics teachers at Yale was Bernard Knox, who became a lifelong friend and who wrote introductions to Mr. Fagles’s “Iliad,” “Odyssey” and “Aeneid.”

After teaching at Yale for a year, Mr. Fagles joined the faculty at Princeton as an English teacher in 1960 and remained at Princeton until he retired, in 2002. He was an immensely popular teacher and also the creator and longtime head of the university’s department of comparative literature. In June the university awarded him an honorary doctorate.

In addition to his wife, Mr. Fagles is survived by two daughters, Katya, of Randolph, N.J., and Nina, of Hampden, Me., and three grandchildren.

Mr. Fagles said he had never planned to tackle the big three of classical literature. He began by setting himself some smallish tasks of translation, just as an exercise. His first published translation, of the Greek poet Bacchylides, came out in 1961, and it was followed by versions of “The Oresteia,” by Aeschylus, and of Sophocles’ three Theban plays (“Antigone,” “Oedipus the King” and “Oedipus at Colonus”) before he felt ready to take on the epics. To get through them, he remarked later, required a “lot of nerve and a lot of luck.”

He also said he couldn’t decide which of the epics was his favorite. Some days were Iliadic, he said — you felt you were in a war — and some were more like the Odyssey, when all you wanted to do was go home.

But “The Aeneid,” he said, had proved to be unexpectedly timely and relevant, describing it as “a tale of exhortation.”

“It says that if you depart from the civilized, then you become a murderer,” he said in an interview with The New York Times in 2006. “The price of empire is very steep, but Virgil shows how it is to be earned, if it’s to be earned at all. The poem can be read as an exhortation for us to behave ourselves, which is a horse of relevance that ought to be ridden.”

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/29/books/29fagles.html?_r=1&ref=books&oref=slogin

[ryi5005]

I am actually a student and I am writing a paper on the Aeneid; I am kind of lost and do not know where to begin, the reading is difficult for me. I am writing on the themes of Love and Empire in the Aeneid. What should I concentrate on exactly? I am not exactly sure where to begin, I understand the story, but not sure about the approach. You guys seem to have a much deeper understanding than me. Anything you can tell me about this will help, thank you.

[Virgil]

I am actually a student and I am writing a paper on the Aeneid; I am kind of lost and do not know where to begin, the reading is difficult for me. I am writing on the themes of Love and Empire in the Aeneid. What should I concentrate on exactly? I am not exactly sure where to begin, I understand the story, but not sure about the approach. You guys seem to have a much deeper understanding than me. Anything you can tell me about this will help, thank you.

No one here is going to write the paper for you. And no one is going to read the epic for you. I think within this thread there are enough ideas to stimulate a thesis for a paper. If you have a specific question I'll be glad to try to answer it. But you have to start.

[ryi5005]

You know what, I never asked for anybody to write a paper for me, I just asked for some help on a specific topic. {edit} I have no questions for you, why would you want to do somebody's homework? My assignment asks a specfic question. Do you understand that I can get everything on Cliffnotes for my assignment? The purpose of my asking for help was to talk about it, which helps me to better understand. I can find the answer to the question, but that is not the point. I just want to see how far I can push this logically and be consistent in my analysis, have somebody take a look at my musings. Though, I do not need to speak to someone who makes baseless assumptions. Disregard my message and continue with your thread.

[Virgil]

You know what, I never asked for anybody to write a paper for me, I just asked for some help on a specific topic. {edit} I have no questions for you, why would you want to do somebody's homework? My assignment asks a specfic question. Do you understand that I can get everything on Cliffnotes for my assignment? The purpose of my asking for help was to talk about it, which helps me to better understand. I can find the answer to the question, but that is not the point. I just want to see how far I can push this logically and be consistent in my analysis, have somebody take a look at my musings. Though, I do not need to speak to someone who makes baseless assumptions. Disregard my message and continue with your thread.

OK, what are your musings? The themes of Love and Empire are too big for a small paper. What specifically is your thesis sentence. Or perhaps you can copy your opening paragraph. I'll then be happy to comment on it and discuss it with you.

[Quark]

If Virgil (LitNet Virgil) doesn't mind, I though I'd get started on Book IV. Aeneas finishes his story at the end of Book III, and the next book describes the relationship between Aeneas and Dido. It's one of the more popular sections of The Aeneid, so I hope people will come back to discuss it. Anyway, here's:


Book IV

http://stoa.files.wordpress.com/2007/06/dido-and-aeneas.jpg

Aeneas at Dido's Court by Guerin 1815


I'll start with a summary, and move on from there. Book IV is the conclusion of the mini-tragedy begun in Book I. This part of the story is not directly connected with the founding of Rome, so it can be best understood as a separate unit. Book II and III which do describe Aeneas' progress from Troy to Italy fit much more into the epic's plot, but this section stands alone as a diversion away from the main story. Book I introduces the characters and acts as the exposition in the mini-tragedy, while Book IV contains most of the action and the resolution. If we're using Freytag's analysis, that means the rising action, climax, falling action, and denouement all fall under Book IV.

The rising action, everything up to the spread of rumors (1-179), describes the growth of Dido's and Aeneas' affection for each other. Mutual identity is the basis for their love. Both lovers are widowed exiles looking to establish new kingdoms. While Venus assists in enticing Dido, I wonder whether this trick was even necessary. Aeneas and Dido are so similar that they couldn't fail to be attractive to each other. Vergil (I'll use the alternate English spelling to refer to the poet) even heightens the similarities with a series of images and allusions. He compares Aeneas to Apollo and Dido to Apollo's twin Diana. Aeneas is the sun to the poet, and Dido the moon. Complementary or identical features become the dominant characteristics in each character in Book IV. Eventually the infatuation culminates in their romance in the cave

The crisis--everything up to the confrontation between A and D (173-296)--is set in motion by the spread of Rumor. The reports of Aeneas's and Dido's love affair reach the jealous King Iarbas who had designs on Dido himself. Outraged, he demands that Jove should get rid of Aeneas. The God is angered that Aeneas has stopped his journey for Italy, and he dispatches Mercury to push the Trojan hero to his goal. Aeneas reluctantly acquiesces. Dido, meanwhile, hears of Aeneas' plan to leave, and calls him to her court.

The falling action includes the confrontation between Aeneas and Dido (296-500). Dido accuses Aeneas of betrayal and entreats him to stay, if only until the weather improves. One certainly sympathizes Dido in this scene, and many of us may even agree with her attacks on Aeneas.

Eventually the story reaches it's resolution (500-705). An utterly devastated Dido stabs herself to put an end to her suffering. The Tyrians lament their now uncertain fate, and Aeneas sails away remarkably calm.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk18/aquark2/guercinoTheDeathofDido1625.jpg
The Death of Dido by Guercino 1625

[ryi5005]

Love and Empire: The Virgilian Superimposition of the Collective and Posterity

Love, the mechanism of cohesion within the Aenead, it is the driving force of Aeneas, and a fervency that is projected and radiated by Virgil. Not only does love have a motivating position within this tragic, yet glorious narration, but there is a gradation that pervades the story, love has frequency; the lower stratum of this stratified gradation is inhabited by the common sort of love, or romantically unifying fervency, and the higher elevation of this stratified stage is populated with a love of a superior caliber. This love, transcendental patriotism, the love of country, the unifying fervency of the collective—the key element of concentration that is a heavenly ordained mission, duty, and objective, directly relating to Empire (not only the abstraction, but also to the actual Roman Empire)—is the crescendo of the story. The Virgilian conception of soul depends on this love; it demands this dedication, this allegiance to society, to civilization, which is the immortalizing mechanism of the culture, the progenitor (Aeneas), and the constituent.

[Quark]

Love and Empire: The Virgilian Superimposition of the Collective and Posterity

Love, the mechanism of cohesion within the Aenead, it is the driving force of Aeneas, and a fervency that is projected and radiated by Virgil. Not only does love have a motivating position within this tragic, yet glorious narration, but there is a gradation that pervades the story, love has frequency; the lower stratum of this stratified gradation is inhabited by the common sort of love, or romantically unifying fervency, and the higher elevation of this stratified stage is populated with a love of a superior caliber. This love, transcendental patriotism, the love of country, the unifying fervency of the collective—the key element of concentration that is a heavenly ordained mission, duty, and objective, directly relating to Empire (not only the abstraction, but also to the actual Roman Empire)—is the crescendo of the story. The Virgilian conception of soul depends on this love; it demands this dedication, this allegiance to society, to civilization, which is the immortalizing mechanism of the culture, the progenitor (Aeneas), and the constituent.

The premise of your paper is strong. There's plenty in the Aeneid to support those claims. Even outside of the Aeneid evidence is easy to find. Much of what separates the Eclogues from the Georgics is that idealized love you're bringing up. I encourage you to stick with your topic, but without knowing what kind of paper you're writing I can't be very specific with my advice. Is it a High School or college essay? Are you expected to do research? Were you told the paper had to be a particular length?

Staying very general, I can make a few suggestions. First, you should narrow your argument. Is the paper about the subordination of certain forms of love under others, or is it about Vergil's conception of the soul? While those two topics are somewhat complementary, your paper might lose focus if you try to talk about both simultaneously. Pick one argument for your paper, and write thoroughly on that. The other might work as a conclusion, but it shouldn't get in the way of your main argument.

Also, you might help yourself if you expand your definition of love beyond patriotism and romance. Think about Aeneas' impulse to fight in the battle at Troy or Aeneas' attachment to his father. You might include these feelings in your discussion of love.

The last idea: check the structure of the Aeneid in relationship to your argument about love. Does Aeneas progress from one form of love to another? Are the forms of love presented in any particular order? These may be good questions to investigate.

Hope the paper goes well.

[Virgil]

Love and Empire: The Virgilian Superimposition of the Collective and Posterity

Love, the mechanism of cohesion within the Aenead, it is the driving force of Aeneas, and a fervency that is projected and radiated by Virgil. Not only does love have a motivating position within this tragic, yet glorious narration, but there is a gradation that pervades the story, love has frequency; the lower stratum of this stratified gradation is inhabited by the common sort of love, or romantically unifying fervency, and the higher elevation of this stratified stage is populated with a love of a superior caliber. This love, transcendental patriotism, the love of country, the unifying fervency of the collective—the key element of concentration that is a heavenly ordained mission, duty, and objective, directly relating to Empire (not only the abstraction, but also to the actual Roman Empire)—is the crescendo of the story. The Virgilian conception of soul depends on this love; it demands this dedication, this allegiance to society, to civilization, which is the immortalizing mechanism of the culture, the progenitor (Aeneas), and the constituent.

I agree with Quark's suggestions. I think that is a good idea for a paper. I would make clear up front what you mean by love. Yes, this could be a solid paper. How long of a paper were you projecting?

[Virgil]

I'm glad you started Book IV Quark. I needed a kick in the bhind. ;)

Within this thread we've already discussed the three dimensionality of the two major characters and how Virgil presents Dido's femine view on par with a male view. So I wanted to concentrate my points about Book IV to two other themes. First is again the religious theme.

The Book opens with Dido telling us of the vow she made to her dead husband to remain faithful. Notice how she places this vow in the context of moral laws:

"I pray that the earth gape deep enough to take me down
or the almighty Father blast me with one bolt to the shades
the pale, glimmering shades in hell, the pit of night,
before I dishonor you, my conscience, break your laws."
l. 32-35)

But her sister Anna persuades her otherwise in a way I think that would have been shocking to Roman readers.


...But Anna answered:
"dear one, dearer than light to me, your sister,
would you waste away, grieving your youth away, alone,
never to know the joy of children, all the gifts of love?
Do you really believe that's what the dust desires,
the ghosts in their ashen tombs?"
(l. 39-44)

First we see the contrast to Aeneas. Aeneas throughout the epic sacrifices for the greater good, but here Anna outlines the temptation that Dido is under, almost serves it on a plate, and Dido we see later submits to the temptation. She doesn't sacrifice in the manner that Aeneas does. But what i think would be particularly shocking to Romans would be this breaking of her vow to the dead. "Do you really believe that's what the dust desires/the ghosts in their ashen tombs?" Roman religion was not quite the same as Greek religion. Some have portrayed the Roman religion the same as the ancient Greek's only with the names changed. No, that's not right. The Romans had an element of worship for one's ancestor's, where the spirit's of one's dead ancestor's rose to the level of diety. For Anna to undermine a vow to a dead ancestor (and notice how her phrasing is couched in reference to the dead, with dust and ghosts and ashen tombs) is sacriligious. No good can come of breaking this vow. I continue to be amazed at how religious a work this is.

I'll save my other point on Book IV for either tonight or tomorrow.

[NickAdams]

Virgil: I think I'm the idiot savant.:lol: I haven't been participated in this thread, because I couldn't find the book; I forgot it was on Litnet.:(

[Quark]

The Book opens with Dido telling us of the vow she made to her dead husband to remain faithful. Notice how she places this vow in the context of moral laws:

She does make that rather solemn vow in moral terms, and it's bolstered with all sorts of religious implication. A Roman audience probably would have considered her fidelity toward Sychaeus noble and divinely important. Today, though, readers may view her determination as cold-hearted and extreme. A hurt lover vowing never to love again is common occurrence in more contemporary fiction, and usually the reader is drawn into wishing the character would forget their past. With these examples in mind, we might consider Dido's speech a little Miss Haversham-like.


But her sister Anna persuades her otherwise in a way I think that would have been shocking to Roman readers.

I think Roman readers would have considered Anna's argument specious, but I don't know if they would be outraged. Anna isn't telling her sister to disregard her obligations to Sychaeus; she's merely reinterpreting them so as to sanction her loving Aeneas. There is some disrespect in her tone which may have offended some, but I don't think it would have shocked anyone.


The Romans had an element of worship for one's ancestor's, where the spirit's of one's dead ancestor's rose to the level of diety. For Anna to undermine a vow to a dead ancestor (and notice how her phrasing is couched in reference to the dead, with dust and ghosts and ashen tombs) is sacriligious.

Remember that Sychaeus is Dido's husband and not her ancestor.


First we see the contrast to Aeneas. Aeneas throughout the epic sacrifices for the greater good, but here Anna outlines the temptation that Dido is under, almost serves it on a plate, and Dido we see later submits to the temptation. She doesn't sacrifice in the manner that Aeneas does.

That's right, but "submits to the temptation" makes it seem like she's making a decision--like there's two choices and she picks the wrong one. Decisions are not what separate Aeneas from Dido. It's the calm, collected manner which makes Aeneas able to leave Carthage. In an extended simile Vergil compares Aeneas to a strong-rooted oak tree:

Sed nullis ille movetur
fletibus, aut voces ullas tractabilis audit;
fata obstant placidasque viri deus obstruit auris.
Ac velut annoso validam cum robore quercum
Alpini Boreae nunc hinc nunc flatibus illinc
eruere inter se certant; it stridor, et altae
consternunt terram concusso stipite frondes;
ipsa haeret scopulis et quantum vertice ad auras
aetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit;
haud secus adsiduis hinc atque hinc vocibus heros
tunditur, et magno persentit pectore curas (iv, 438-48)

No tears, no pleading, move him ; no man can yield
When a god stops his ears. As northern winds
Sweep over Alpine mountains, in their fury
Fighting each other to uproot an oak-tree
Whose ancient strength endures against their roaring
And he trunk shudders and the leaves come down
Strewing the ground, but the old tree clings to the mountain,
Its roots as deep toward hell as its crest toward heaven,
And still holds on--even so, Aeneas, shaken
By storm-blasts of appeal, by voices calling
From every side, is tossed and torn, and steady.

Dido, on the other hand, is "frenzied as Orestes" and "mad as Pentheus." Her unstable mind is what separates her from her Trojan counterpart. And, it's not as though Dido weighs two options and goes with the wrong one. She doesn't make a choice at all.


Virgil: I think I'm the idiot savant.:lol: I haven't been participated in this thread, because I couldn't find the book; I forgot it was on Litnet.:(

D'oh.

[Virgil]

Hey great response Quark. :thumbs_up


She does make that rather solemn vow in moral terms, and it's bolstered with all sorts of religious implication. A Roman audience probably would have considered her fidelity toward Sychaeus noble and divinely important. Today, though, readers may view her determination as cold-hearted and extreme. A hurt lover vowing never to love again is common occurrence in more contemporary fiction, and usually the reader is drawn into wishing the character would forget their past. With these examples in mind, we might consider Dido's speech a little Miss Haversham-like.

I wouldn't say Miss Haversham-like. There's a whole social context that affects this, and I'll get to that as my other point of Book IV. I don't look at fiction or any art for that matter outside of its historical time and place. I don't think Virgil had in mind today's concept of love.


I think Roman readers would have considered Anna's argument specious, but I don't know if they would be outraged. Anna isn't telling her sister to disregard her obligations to Sychaeus; she's merely reinterpreting them so as to sanction her loving Aeneas. There is some disrespect in her tone which may have offended some, but I don't think it would have shocked anyone.
Perhaps. I'm not a cultural expert on the period. I used the word "outrage" to express they would have reacted to it. I can't claim to what extent.


Remember that Sychaeus is Dido's husband and not her ancestor.
That is a very good point. I don't know how much difference that makes.


That's right, but "submits to the temptation" makes it seem like she's making a decision--like there's two choices and she picks the wrong one. Decisions are not what separate Aeneas from Dido. It's the calm, collected manner which makes Aeneas able to leave Carthage. In an extended simile Vergil compares Aeneas to a strong-rooted oak tree:

Sed nullis ille movetur
fletibus, aut voces ullas tractabilis audit;
fata obstant placidasque viri deus obstruit auris.
Ac velut annoso validam cum robore quercum
Alpini Boreae nunc hinc nunc flatibus illinc
eruere inter se certant; it stridor, et altae
consternunt terram concusso stipite frondes;
ipsa haeret scopulis et quantum vertice ad auras
aetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit;
haud secus adsiduis hinc atque hinc vocibus heros
tunditur, et magno persentit pectore curas (iv, 438-48)

No tears, no pleading, move him ; no man can yield
When a god stops his ears. As northern winds
Sweep over Alpine mountains, in their fury
Fighting each other to uproot an oak-tree
Whose ancient strength endures against their roaring
And he trunk shudders and the leaves come down
Strewing the ground, but the old tree clings to the mountain,
Its roots as deep toward hell as its crest toward heaven,
And still holds on--even so, Aeneas, shaken
By storm-blasts of appeal, by voices calling
From every side, is tossed and torn, and steady.

Dido, on the other hand, is "frenzied as Orestes" and "mad as Pentheus." Her unstable mind is what separates her from her Trojan counterpart. And, it's not as though Dido weighs two options and goes with the wrong one. She doesn't make a choice at all.

Oh the contrast is definitely intended. I completely agree.

[NickAdams]

I got it, I got it! I'll try and catch up, since you guys are only in the fourth book of twelve.

[Quark]

There's a whole social context that affects this, and I'll get to that as my other point of Book IV.

I'll wait for your second point, then. Is it also about religion?


Perhaps. I'm not a cultural expert on the period. I used the word "outrage" to express they would have reacted to it. I can't claim to what extent.

It's certain they would have reacted to it, but in what way and to what extent is the question. If Anna had crossed some religious line, then the audience would be shocked. I don't think she does that, though. You're right that respect for the dead was a central idea in Roman culture, but Anna doesn't ask Dido to ignore Sychaeus' wishes. All she does is reinterpret them to make Dido's relationship with Aeneas permissible. Anna's questions imply that Dido's husband would want her to be happy, instead of faithful. A Roman audience may have found the reasoning implausible, but I don't think they would have been shocked by it. Like I mentioned before, the tone is irreverent, but the argument itself stays with the bounds of decorum.


I got it, I got it! I'll try and catch up, since you guys are only in the fourth book of twelve.

You shouldn't have any problems catching up. Feel free to post any comments you might have on the first three books, too. I'd respond to them at least.

[Virgil]

I got it, I got it! I'll try and catch up, since you guys are only in the fourth book of twelve.

Glad to have you aboard Nick. We're going so slow you should have no trouble. :)

[NickAdams]

I have the Allen Mandelbaum translation, which has an introduction that I plan on sharing with you in the future (a few paragraphs at most).



You shouldn't have any problems catching up. Feel free to post any comments you might have on the first three books, too. I'd respond to them at least.

I'm not too familiar with Greek mythology, but I figure that it will all make sense in the end. There are so many names mentioned, I get confused and sometimes don't know who was speaking until I've completed the section.


Glad to have you aboard Nick. We're going so slow you should have no trouble. :)

I'm on the second book now; I wish I was reading it as I write this. I'm captivated. I can't say I have been analyzing each line. I've been reading it like a thriller; I find it to be a page turner. When it comes to the gods, the drama never ends. Maybe the themes will come to me on reflection, but I'm just enjoying the story right now. I feel like a child again, watching those Saturday epics on television. I love a good hero.:thumbs_up

[Quark]

I'm not too familiar with Greek mythology, but I figure that it will all make sense in the end. There are so many names mentioned, I get confused and sometimes don't know who was speaking until I've completed the section.

Thankfully, the Aeneid has a smaller cast than the Iliad. There's only a handful of Gods in Vergil's epic, as opposed to the full complement included in the Greek epics. The only divine players you really have to know are Jove, Venus, Juno, and Mercury. And, while there is a lengthy history for each of these characters all you need to know in the Aeneid is their relationship to the hero. A quick rundown should help.

Venus--Aeneas' mother. She helps Aeneas to Italy.

Jove--head God who promises Venus that Aeneas will reach Italy and found a new, powerful kingdom

Juno--bent on stopping Aeneas from founding the new empire

Mercury--Jove's personal errand boy

These Gods have wider roles in the mythology and in the epic beyond this, but that's all you have to know to understand what's going on. There are a few others that I didn't mention who also figure in--like Cupid or Vulcan. They don't figure prominently much, though. When they do, it's easy to tell what they're doing.


I'm on the second book now; I wish I was reading it as I write this. I'm captivated. I can't say I have been analyzing each line. I've been reading it like a thriller; I find it to be a page turner. When it comes to the gods, the drama never ends. Maybe the themes will come to me on reflection, but I'm just enjoying the story right now. I feel like a child again, watching those Saturday epics on television. I love a good hero.:thumbs_up

The second book is exciting--quite violent, too. Some people have suggested that Vergil must have seen battle in order to write about its chaos so well. Did you think he may have gone over the top, though? The scene with Priam is pretty grisly. Were you alright with how gruesome it got?

[NickAdams]

Thankfully, the Aeneid has a smaller cast than the Iliad. There's only a handful of Gods in Vergil's epic, as opposed to the full complement included in the Greek epics. The only divine players you really have to know are Jove, Venus, Juno, and Mercury. And, while there is a lengthy history for each of these characters all you need to know in the Aeneid is their relationship to the hero. A quick rundown should help.

Venus--Aeneas' mother. She helps Aeneas to Italy.

Jove--head God who promises Venus that Aeneas will reach Italy and found a new, powerful kingdom

Juno--bent on stopping Aeneas from founding the new empire

Mercury--Jove's personal errand boy

These Gods have wider roles in the mythology and in the epic beyond this, but that's all you have to know to understand what's going on. There are a few others that I didn't mention who also figure in--like Cupid or Vulcan. They don't figure prominently much, though. When they do, it's easy to tell what they're doing.



The second book is exciting--quite violent, too. Some people have suggested that Vergil must have seen battle in order to write about its chaos so well. Did you think he may have gone over the top, though? The scene with Priam is pretty grisly. Were you alright with how gruesome it got?

I spent the weekend performing the traditional writer ritual of consuming alcohol, but I finished the second book today.

Thanks for the rundown.

I don't think it was over the top. Aeneis was telling the tale and gave details you would expect from a soldier. I enjoyed Priam's fall, or the telling of it. When Aeneis says that Priam's trunk lays on the shore, does he mean his body was taken to the beach?

[Petrarch's Love]

Just checking back in to see how this discussion is going. The many demands on my time of late have been keeping me away, but I'll see if I can carve out a little time in the coming days to make some remarks on book IV. Glad to see Nick's joining in. Don't know that I buy Dido as Mrs. Havisham, but I doubt I'll forget it soon. Now I have this image in my mind of Mrs. Havisham standing on a funerary pyre crazily crying out STELLA. :lol:


When Aeneis says that Priam's trunk lays on the shore, does he mean his body was taken to the beach?

Yes, his decapitated corpse evidently ends up on the beach. I think the idea is that they're piling up the dead on the shore outside the walls of the city, and he ends up a nameless corpse among the slaughtered. I've always imagined they threw the body off a wall to the beach below, but I don't think there's anything in the text about that, just my imagination.

Anyway, good discussion so far on book IV. Even after having read it several times, it's almost impossible not to get completely swept up in the intensity of the ending to that book. Interesting that Virgil focused right away on the idea of the breaking of the vow. I don't really know exactly how shocking that would have been to a Roman audience either, though it's never struck me as something that would be way out of the bounds of acceptability. What was the second point you wanted to make, Virg? I may have a few things to add, but maybe we'll let Nick catch up a bit?

[Quark]

When Aeneas says that Priam's trunk lays on the shore, does he mean his body was taken to the beach?

I think so. The disrespect for his body is supposed to be reminiscent of the taking of Hector's corpse which Priam retrieves at the end of the Iliad. When Aeneas witnesses this, though, he's reminded less of Hector and more of his own family. The death of Priam becomes a warning to Aeneas that he should protect his family, or else they're all going to end up as trunks laying on the shore.

Petrarch just posted something--not two minutes ago--that shouldn't get buried. I'll respond to it once I post again in the Lawrence thread.

[Quark]

Don't know that I buy Dido as Mrs. Havisham, but I doubt I'll forget it soon.

Well I wasn't saying Dido is Miss Havisham. Virgil and I were talking about reactions to Dido's vow when I suggested that a modern audience might be more skeptical of Dido's determination not to fall in love with Aeneas. They might interpret it less as nobility and more as bitterness. Miss Havisham was just the first instance I could think of for a disappointed lover souring on the idea of love.



Now I have this image in my mind of Mrs. Havisham standing on a funerary pyre crazily crying out STELLA. :lol:

Oh, now you're just being silly.


Yes, his decapitated corpse evidently ends up on the beach. I think the idea is that they're piling up the dead on the shore outside the walls of the city, and he ends up a nameless corpse among the slaughtered. I've always imagined they threw the body off a wall to the beach below, but I don't think there's anything in the text about that, just my imagination.

I'm not sure on the logistics of how they get Priam's corpse from the city to the shore. The Aeneid doesn't say. I like the throwing them over the wall idea. Let's stick with that.


Anyway, good discussion so far on book IV. Even after having read it several times, it's almost impossible not to get completely swept up in the intensity of the ending to that book.

Wait, which intensity do you mean? Is it the intensity of Dido's passion, or just the intensity and pathos of the tragedy in general?

[Virgil]

What was the second point you wanted to make, Virg? I may have a few things to add, but maybe we'll let Nick catch up a bit?

Ah yes. The second point I wished to make was how Virgil integrates the political implications of Dido's love. The balance of power that she had masterfuly created to hold Africa under Carthiginian sway collapses. After she makes love with Aeneas in the cave,


Straightway Rumor flies through Libya's great cities,
Rumor, swiftest of all the evils in the world.
(l. 219-220)

and


Iarbas--son of an Africa nymph whom Jove had raped--
raised the god a hundred splendid temples across
the king's wide realm, a hundred alters too,
consecrating the sacred fires
that never died, eternal sentinels of the gpds.
The earth was rich with blood of slaughtered herds
and the temple doorways wreathed with riots of flowers.
This Iarbas, driven wild, set ablaze by the bitter rumor,
approached an altar, they say as the gods hovered round...
...So King Iarbas appealed,
his hand clutching the altar, and Jove Almighty heard...
(l. 248-275 and beyond)

I don't have the time to type out the entire passage, but we can see that her willing to marry someone, after she had soothed the political concerns around her causes rebellion and war. Again to Romans, a nation obsessed with governing their empire, this was a warning and a value professing self sacrifice for the good of the nation. It is a sacrifice that Aeneas makes and she can't.

Those are the two points. But I must say there is such fabulous writing in this Book. Dido's confrontation with Aeneas, her exasperations, the funeral pyre, and Juno's sympathy. Let me type out that last part, because Fagles does a beautiful translation. Dido has just burned herself on the pyre:


Then Juno in all her power, filled with pity
for Dido's agonizing death, her labor long and hard,
sped Iris down from Olympus to release her spirit
wrestling now in a deathlock with her limbs.
Since she was dying a death not fated or deserved,
no, tormented, before her day, in a blaze of passion--
Proserpina had yet to pluck a golden lock from her head
and commit her life to the Styx and the dark world below.
So Iris, glistening dew, comes skimmering down from the sky
on gilded wings, trailing showers of iridescence shimmering
into the sun, and hovering over Dido's head, declares:
"So commanded, I take this lock as a sacred gift
to the God of Death, and I relealse you from your body."

With that, she cut the lock with her hand and all at once
the warmth slipped away, the life dissolves in the winds.
(ll. 862-876)

That is just great, great poetry!!

[mortalterror]

I don't believe that Dido's impiety would have shocked the Roman's of Virgil's day. Those that are easily shocked will always find something to be shocked about, but let's not forget that he writes just after Catullus and contemporary with Ovid and his Amores. Of course, Ovid was exiled by Octavian, so we know that he was very conservative, and when you are living in a dictatorship there's only one opinion that matters. Although in recent memory, during Caesar's Gallic triumph, his soldiers marched alongside his chariot singing:

Home we bring our bald whoremonger;
Romans, lock your wives away!
All the bags of gold you lent him
Went his Gallic tarts to pay.
-Suetonius, The Twelve Caesars, Robert Graves translation, p. 36.

That could just be an example of the vulgar plebeian masses of the time, and not indicative of the literate aristocracy. Yet I'll venture a guess, and say that the average Roman noble was less like Octavian and more like his daughter Julia. When she was asked how she could have so many affairs and yet her children all looked like her husband, she replied that she took on new passengers only when the boat was already full. Roman society was anything but staid.

As for Priam's death, and the way his headless trunk lies on the beach, that's a reference to Pompey. During the Civil War, retreating from the battle of Pharsalus (48 B.C.), Pompey flees to Egypt where he is murdered by order of the Pharoa. His head is chopped off as a trophy for Caesar, and his body left unburied by the shore. This was considered an affront to Roman nobility, as it was the policy in that day that no foreigner could kill a Roman without massive repercussions. It's one more reminder to the people in Virgil's time of the score they had to settle with Egypt, and it echoes the Dido Cleopatra theme we've mentioned earlier.

I do love that ending of Dido's:

Let him see the unmerited deaths of those
Around and with him, and accepting peace
On unjust terms, let him not, even so,
Enjoy his kingdom or the life he longs for,
But fall in battle before his time and lie
Unburied on the sand!
Book IV, ln. 858-863, Fitzgerald translation

When I first read that, it rang true and reminded me of nothing so much as an angry voicemail message an ex would leave on an answering machine. It has the strength of real feeling, of passion, and anger. Only later would I put it into context with other invective poetry of the time:

Let earth deny its fruits to you, the rivers their waves,
let the winds and the breezes deny you their breath.
Let there be no heat to the sun, for you, no light for you
from the moon, let all the bright stars forsake your eyes.
Nor let fire or air offer themselves to you,
nor earth or ocean grant you a way.
Exiled, wander helpless, across the alien thresholds,
seek out scant nourishment with a trembling mouth.
Body never free of ills, mind of grievous sickness,
night be worse than day for you, and day than night.
Ibis, by Ovid, ln. 107-116, Translated by A.S. Kline
http://www.tonykline.co.uk/PITBR/Latin/Ibis.htm

This section of Ovid's Ibis is called The Denial of Benefits. It comes after the naming of his enemy, an invocation to the gods, and begins the Litany of Maledictions. The litany follows the same prayer form one would use to bless someone except with curses. It runs through an enormous list of ancient torments, often with examples from mythology. The invective even goes so far as to claim that if Ovid should die before his enemy, then he will haunt him from beyond the grave. This vow of undying hatred is interesting. We will see Dido making good on a similar vow when Aeneas meets her again in the underworld and she turns away from him without speaking. Ovid and Dido deliver the curse in much the same vein. They know that it's useless to scream, but they cannot help themselves. It's purgative, an outlet for their suffering, but ultimately futile.

One thing I've been thinking about in Book IV is that Aeneas' mother and patron is Venus (Goddess of Love), but that his antagonist is Juno (Goddess of Marriage). It makes sense that Aeneas' first wife Creusa should die, and that his marriage to Dido should be marred. Then when Aeneas comes to Latium his marriage to Lavinia should not be smooth sailing. He falls in love easily enough, but he can't seem to seel the deal.

Also, before we pass into book V, I'd like to recommend Christopher Marlowe's Dido, Queen of Carthage to everybody. I think he tells the story even better than Virgil, except for his ridiculous ending.

[Virgil]

Good thoughts Mortal. Glad you joined the discussion. Yes, I know, I exaggerated with the word "shocked." I think I said that earlier. But it does violate Roman values, whether everyone followed them or not.

[Quark]

Ah yes. The second point I wished to make was how Virgil integrates the political implications of Dido's love. The balance of power that she had masterfuly created to hold Africa under Carthiginian sway collapses.

I don't have the time to type out the entire passage, but we can see that her willing to marry someone, after she had soothed the political concerns around her causes rebellion and war. Again to Romans, a nation obsessed with governing their empire, this was a warning and a value professing self sacrifice for the good of the nation. It is a sacrifice that Aeneas makes and she can't.

The neglected kingdom does suffer. Carthage doesn't just lose its allies, it also stops working. Dido's distraction changes the city that was compared to an industrious hive of bees in Book I to a lazy, half-finished metropolis. Vergil writes:

The towers no longer rise, the youth are slack
In drill for arms, the cranes and derricks rusting,
Walls halt halfway to heaven.

It's hard to imagine how an amorous queen could prevent her workers from completing their tasks, but it's poetry--it doesn't have to make sense. I suppose it's meant to indicate that the workers follow her example and grow lax with their duties. In any case, you're right Virgil. Dido's lack of devotion has many political repercussions.


Those are the two points. But I must say there is such fabulous writing in this Book. Dido's confrontation with Aeneas, her exasperations, the funeral pyre, and Juno's sympathy. Let me type out that last part, because Fagles does a beautiful translation. Dido has just burned herself on the pyre:

So, is Book II still your favorite Book?


I don't believe that Dido's impiety would have shocked the Roman's of Virgil's day

let's not forget that he writes just after Catullus and contemporary with Ovid and his Amores.

Yeah, I begin to think that Dido is a rather tame, conservative portrayal of love in comparison with some of Vergil's contemporaries. Vergil places restrictions on Dido's love, and constantly channels her affection back within appropriate lines. While Catullus expresses a desire to be with Lesibia simply for the pleasure of intimacy, Dido's love is much more fixated on other more respectable gains, such as a child. At the height of her conflict with Aeneas, she even suggests motherhood as an acceptable consolation for losing her lover:

At least, if but a child were born
Of me to you, before you were gone,
At very least, a little son
Still to recall your face to me. (327-30)

In a situation which should bring out Dido's need for Aeneas, Vergil diverts Dido's passion into a more acceptable desire, motherhood. Far from insulting sensibilities, this should have been comforting to them.


As for Priam's death, and the way his headless trunk lies on the beach, that's a reference to Pompey.

Yes, there probably is an allusion here to the legend associated with Pompey's death. Comparing Priam's demise to that of another well-known and gruesome death would heighten the outrage and disgust readers would have for the way they treat Priam's body. I don't think that Vergil is making a political point or drawing any other parallels between Priam and Pompey, though. I know some scholars and critics have tried to argue Priam is Pompey, but that doesn't make much sense. After all, that would make Pyrrus like Caesar. Most likely, the allusion is made to compare the dishonorable fate of Priam's body with Priam's unfortunate corpse.


I do love that ending of Dido's:
When I first read that, it rang true and reminded me of nothing so much as an angry voicemail message an ex would leave on an answering machine.

That's funny. Have you had many angry, Dido-like phone messages? I wish my ex-girlfriends could be so eloquent.

[mortalterror]

The neglected kingdom does suffer. Carthage doesn't just lose its allies, it also stops working. Dido's distraction changes the city that was compared to an industrious hive of bees in Book I to a lazy, half-finished metropolis.

I hadn't noticed that passage before. Thank you for pointing it out.

As exercise the bees in flow'ry plains,
When winter past, and summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labor in the sun;
Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense
Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense;
Some at the gate stand ready to receive
The golden burthen, and their friends relieve;
All with united force, combine to drive
The lazy drones from the laborious hive:
With envy stung, they view each other's deeds;
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds.
from Aeneid, Book I, Dryden Translation
http://classics.mit.edu/Virgil/aeneid.1.i.html

That's just like this passage from Virgil's Georgics:

Others the while lead forth the full-grown young,
Their country's hope, and others press and pack
The thrice repured honey, and stretch their cells
To bursting with the clear-strained nectar sweet.
Some, too, the wardship of the gates befalls,
Who watch in turn for showers and cloudy skies,
Or ease returning labourers of their load,
Or form a band and from their precincts drive
The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work!
from Georgics, Book IV, ? Translation
http://classics.mit.edu/Virgil/georgics.4.iv.html

In those passages, the bees are a symbol of asexuality, industry, and empire. And as long as we are talking about Virgil and his bees, I might as well mention how Dante uses the same image for his angels:

Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers
One moment, and the next returns again
To where its labour is to sweetness turned,

Sank into the great flower, that is adorned
With leaves so many, and thence reascended
To where its love abideth evermore.

Their faces had they all of living flame,
And wings of gold, and all the rest so white
No snow unto that limit doth attain.

From bench to bench, into the flower descending,
They carried something of the peace and ardour
Which by the fanning of their flanks they won.
from Paradiso, Canto 31, Longfellow Translation
http://www.everypoet.com/Archive/poetry/dante/dante_x_31.htm

[Quark]

That's just like this passage from Virgil's Georgics:

Yeah, you can find much of the imagery in the Aeneid in its precursor the Georgics. The bees get a whole Book in the Georgics, I think. In it, Vergil sets up both of the bee similes we get in the Aeneid. The first comparison he makes is between laborious workers and drones. Later, in both poems, the poet associates two hives fighting with a war between states.


In those passages, the bees are a symbol of asexuality, industry, and empire. And as long as we are talking about Virgil and his bees, I might as well mention how Dante uses the same image for his angels:

Even as a swarm of bees, that sinks in flowers
One moment, and the next returns again
To where its labour is to sweetness turned,

Sank into the great flower, that is adorned
With leaves so many, and thence reascended
To where its love abideth evermore.

Their faces had they all of living flame,
And wings of gold, and all the rest so white
No snow unto that limit doth attain.

From bench to bench, into the flower descending,
They carried something of the peace and ardour
Which by the fanning of their flanks they won.
from Paradiso, Canto 31, Longfellow Translation
http://www.everypoet.com/Archive/poetry/dante/dante_x_31.htm

It's been years since I've read Dante, so it's a little difficult to comment on the similarities. Just looking at what you've quoted, though, I can say a few things. First, both poets use the bee simile to show work being done assiduously. A difference between the two could be that the passage from Dante is much more sensual than the one in the Aeneid. Vergil focuses on the idea of work being done in general, while Dante uses the simile to describe how sweet the work is.

[Virgil]

So, is Book II still your favorite Book?
Yes, I still marvel at Book II.


Yeah, I begin to think that Dido is a rather tame, conservative portrayal of love in comparison with some of Vergil's contemporaries. Vergil places restrictions on Dido's love, and constantly channels her affection back within appropriate lines. While Catullus expresses a desire to be with Lesibia simply for the pleasure of intimacy, Dido's love is much more fixated on other more respectable gains, such as a child. At the height of her conflict with Aeneas, she even suggests motherhood as an acceptable consolation for losing her lover:

At least, if but a child were born
Of me to you, before you were gone,
At very least, a little son
Still to recall your face to me. (327-30)

In a situation which should bring out Dido's need for Aeneas, Vergil diverts Dido's passion into a more acceptable desire, motherhood. Far from insulting sensibilities, this should have been comforting to them.
Well, Dido is a mature, responsible woman in charge of a kingdom. She's not some flitty young girl.


Yes, there probably is an allusion here to the legend associated with Pompey's death. Comparing Priam's demise to that of another well-known and gruesome death would heighten the outrage and disgust readers would have for the way they treat Priam's body. I don't think that Vergil is making a political point or drawing any other parallels between Priam and Pompey, though. I know some scholars and critics have tried to argue Priam is Pompey, but that doesn't make much sense. After all, that would make Pyrrus like Caesar. Most likely, the allusion is made to compare the dishonorable fate of Priam's body with Priam's unfortunate corpse.
I hadn't thought of that, but it makes sense to me.

So on to Book V?

[Quark]

Well, Dido is a mature, responsible woman in charge of a kingdom. She's not some flitty young girl.

Well, yeah, but she's also considered one of the paragons of passionate love in ancient literature.


So on to Book V?

We're just starting to get conversation going again. I don't know if we should move on just yet. Besides, Book V only lists the funeral games without there being much action. I would be surprised if our discussion on that Book lasted more than a couple of days. I know it seems like we've been moving slowly, but that's only because the conversation has been so sporadic. When we start getting more people posting regularly things should start moving faster. The rest of the Aeneid should go by quickly. Books V and VII don't have a great deal to discuss, and we can talk about the conquest chapters (Books VIII-XII) as a group since they relate one story.

[NickAdams]

This reading has encouraged me to look into other epics. I will continue reading today.

[Quark]

Hmm, I was going to post something about Dido's guilt, but I don't know if anyone's still here. Where did everyone go?


This reading has encouraged me to look into other epics. I will continue reading today.

I don't read many epics, so my advice probably isn't the best. Of course, that won't stop me from giving it. If you like epics for their grand style, I would suggest reading Paradise Lost since it's difficult to find a more high-blown style than Milton's. If you're entranced by the action so far in the Aeneid, you should just keep reading. Books VIII through XII have battle after battle. Some people find the mythological world of the Aeneid interesting, and enjoy stories that explore this world further. Those readers often go for the other epics of Latin and Greek literature. Homer's two are always popular, but there's also many others from Rome's Silver Age which are very similar to the Aeneid. Outside of that advice, I'm scared to say much more. The recent discussion about what qualifies as epic has cow'd the better part of me. I'll just stick with the only confirmed epics that I know of.

Oh, and where are you in the Aeneid? Have you caught up with us at Book IV?

[NickAdams]

Hmm, I was going to post something about Dido's guilt, but I don't know if anyone's still here. Where did everyone go?



I don't read many epics, so my advice probably isn't the best. Of course, that won't stop me from giving it. If you like epics for their grand style, I would suggest reading Paradise Lost since it's difficult to find a more high-blown style than Milton's. If you're entranced by the action so far in the Aeneid, you should just keep reading. Books VIII through XII have battle after battle. Some people find the mythological world of the Aeneid interesting, and enjoy stories that explore this world further. Those readers often go for the other epics of Latin and Greek literature. Homer's two are always popular, but there's also many others from Rome's Silver Age which are very similar to the Aeneid. Outside of that advice, I'm scared to say much more. The recent discussion about what qualifies as epic has cow'd the better part of me. I'll just stick with the only confirmed epics that I know of.

Oh, and where are you in the Aeneid? Have you caught up with us at Book IV?

I enjoy all three (writing, action and myth). I think it's Virgil's writing that makes the action interesting; the content shouldn't shock the modern reader, so the writing becomes important. The Romans and Greeks differ in how they name the Gods, and I am only familiar with the Greeks, so it has taken some adjustment.

Aeneas and his soon to be bride have retreated into the cave.

I have made out a list of epics, which includes both Homer and Milton. Thanks for heads up on Milton's style.

[Virgil]

Nick - I think you would enjoy The Illiad best.

Quark - Feel free to post something on Dido's guilt. I'm interested. I'll probably get to Book V over the weekend.

[NickAdams]

I just finished the fourth book and it's my favorite so far.

I wanted to quote a passage about Aeneas silencing his heart and heeding his mind, which is filled with the warning of the Gods, but I can't seem to locate it. It seems, to be pious one must go against their humanity. One must make an allegiance to either the Gods or their fellow man. I have never read Ayn Rand, but have this general idea about her theories. If this is objectivism, I shall take no part in it.


Nick - I think you would enjoy The Illiad best.

Thanks, I plan on reading it during the summer. I am going to conquer the epic this year.

[Quark]

I just finished the fourth book and it's my favorite so far.

I'm glad you liked it. Book IV is pretty engaging. It draws you into Dido's situation so well, and makes you feel her loss. I'm often confused why Vergil does this, though. It's such a departure from the story of Aeneas founding Rome. Several of the critics I've read have suggested that Book IV should be interpreted as a morality tale about the importance of pietas, or devotion. The reader is supposed to recoil from Dido because she represents the danger of giving in to passion. Her story is relevant to Aeneas because it's part of his growth as a character. By witnessing her downfall, he realizes the moral of the story and learns from it. Later, through Aeneas, this lesson is transfered to the Roman character. One could then argue that her story is necessary because it shows shows the development of Rome morally.

This conclusion only somewhat satisfies me. I think there is a warning in Dido's story; but, I don't believe we're supposed to recoil from Dido--at least, I don't. Dido isn't just a sinful wretch who ignores her duty. Vergil makes her quite attractive, and not just in a tempting, false sort of way. The perspective also draws us to her character. Book IV is told almost entirely from her point of view, and our sympathy naturally goes toward her. If the story were solely concerned with a moral objective which included the rejection of her character, I would think that Vergil wouldn't make her so easy to empathize with. I think the objective might be more complicated than that. Specifically, I think that Vergil is showing the pain that results from pietas. This makes Aeneas even more heroic because it means that he's overcoming something that the reader probably cannot.


I wanted to quote a passage about Aeneas silencing his heart and heeding his mind, which is filled with the warning of the Gods, but I can't seem to locate it.

There are two places in the story where Mercury descends to scold Aeneas, and after each Aeneas says something like what you're talking about. Those sections are toward the end, I think.


I plan on reading it during the summer. I am going to conquer the epic this year.

Good luck. Where do you suppose you'll start?

[NickAdams]

I'm glad you liked it. Book IV is pretty engaging. It draws you into Dido's situation so well, and makes you feel her loss. I'm often confused why Vergil does this, though. It's such a departure from the story of Aeneas founding Rome. Several of the critics I've read have suggested that Book IV should be interpreted as a morality tale about the importance of pietas, or devotion. The reader is supposed to recoil from Dido because she represents the danger of giving in to passion. Her story is relevant to Aeneas because it's part of his growth as a character. By witnessing her downfall, he realizes the moral of the story and learns from it. Later, through Aeneas, this lesson is transfered to the Roman character. One could then argue that her story is necessary because it shows shows the development of Rome morally.

This conclusion only somewhat satisfies me. I think there is a warning in Dido's story; but, I don't believe we're supposed to recoil from Dido--at least, I don't. Dido isn't just a sinful wretch who ignores her duty. Vergil makes her quite attractive, and not just in a tempting, false sort of way. The perspective also draws us to her character. Book IV is told almost entirely from her point of view, and our sympathy naturally goes toward her. If the story were solely concerned with a moral objective which included the rejection of her character, I would think that Vergil wouldn't make her so easy to empathize with. I think the objective might be more complicated than that. Specifically, I think that Vergil is showing the pain that results from pietas. This makes Aeneas even more heroic because it means that he's overcoming something that the reader probably cannot.



There are two places in the story where Mercury descends to scold Aeneas, and after each Aeneas says something like what you're talking about. Those sections are toward the end, I think.



Good luck. Where do you suppose you'll start?

That all makes sense.

I'll start with Gilgamesh.

I'm enjoying the fifth book. I found something odd though. Virgil seems to break from the narrative and addresses the Roman reader directly.

[Quark]

I'm enjoying the fifth book. I found something odd though. Virgil seems to break from the narrative and addresses the Roman reader directly.

That won't be the last time he does that. Where does address the reader in the fifth Book? I forget the details of that one frequently.

[NickAdams]

Last, Cloanthus
rides sea-green "Scylla": it is he from whom
you take your name, Roman Cluentius.

Do you know the motive behind this? Is it to promote national pride?

[NickAdams]

I've finished the fifth book. I find Entellus to be the most interesting character, although his role is very small.

I find myself laughing at the story. Not by anything Virgil intended, but because of my modernistic view. I find Aeneas to be pious the way Candide is optimistic. Am I the only one?

[Virgil]

I haven't read Book Five yet. I need a good horse whipping. :D

I'm not sure I agree with you on Aneid and Candide. Candide's opitimism was an ironic stance by the author. Aeneas' piety is i think what Virgil wants us to accept. I don't see Virgil being ironic.

[NickAdams]

I don't see Virgil being ironic.


Not by anything Virgil intended, but because of my modernistic view.

It's always me and never the author. The Greek Gods moved from religion to mythology, so his devotion becomes humorous in a modern context. I've been thinking about a modern parody.


I love this line from the sixth book:

"Some seek the seeds
of fire hidden in the veins of flint,"

[Quark]

I suppose I should introduce the fifth Book, if not the sixth. I was waiting for some others to join since it looked like there was interest, but everyone's floated away. Give me a minute, and I'll post something introductory for Book V.

[NickAdams]

I suppose I should introduce the fifth Book, if not the sixth. I was waiting for some others to join since it looked like there was interest, but everyone's floated away. Give me a minute, and I'll post something introductory for Book V.

No need for more kindle, the few here have enough interest to keep the fire burning.

I admit: I have not smelled Virgil's flowers; however, The Aeneid is a book I plan on reading again, so I will take in the fragrance on the second read.

It's getting on now; Aeneas is at the river Styx.

[Quark]

Since Nick has caught up to us now and Virgil is claiming he needs a kick to get going, I think we can move on to the next book. Here's:


Book V
http://vergil.classics.upenn.edu/images/3225-42r.gif
Aeneas' Four Ships from the Vergilius Vaticanus, a 5th century manuscript


Book V is the relaxing interlude between two intense and depressing sections. Dido has murdered herself, and Trojans are headed for Italy. On the way they stop in Sicily where they meet friendly Acestes who is also of Dardanian origin. He welcomes them, and the Sicilians and the Romans perform the funeral games for Anchises there on the island. Cloanthus wins the ship race. Euryalus finishes first in the foot race (with some help), and Entellus out-boxes Metus. Acestes wins the archery contest through divine intervention. Meanwhile, Juno--still furious--sends her helper Iris to incite a riot amongst the Trojan women. Their anger at the continuing voyage boils over and they set fire to the ships. The gods extinguish the flame, and Venus bargains with Neptune to get Aeneas safe passage to Italy. Aeneas allows those who do not want to go on to stay in Sicily. He takes the brave remainder with him to Cumae where he must go into the underworld and speak with his father. That's where Book V leaves us.

The unyielding Aeneas of the last Book is replaced with a very generous, conciliatory in Book V. He gives out awards to almost all the participants, and he even allows the unhappy women to stay in Sicily after they torched his boats. There's certainly been a change from the Aeneas who was describes as a stubborn oak tree weathering intense winds. This Aeneas is compassionate and emotional. He almost breaks down toward the end. Perhaps this change is necessary to rally support for Aeneas after he callously departed from Troy. Or, maybe this is just the natural Aeneas when he isn't being hassled by gods and goddesses. Either way, it's an interesting departure.

Book V also has much foreshadowing. Sinus helps Euryalus; Juno sends her minion to stir up trouble; there are several events prefigured in the details of Book V.

Another point of interest in Book V is the relationships between the gods and the action on the field. There is rather a lot of divine interference in this section.

Anyway, there's the introduction for Book V. Feel free to start posting comments.

http://vergil.classics.upenn.edu/images/3225-44v.gif
Venus and Neptune--also from the Vergilius Vaticanus


Do you know the motive behind this? Is it to promote national pride?

Yes, the links between Vergil's time and the story are meant to build Roman pride. In some ways the story is almost a glorified Roman history. The characters are often meant to be idealized portraits of Romans living contemporaneously with Vergil.


I've finished the fifth book. I find Entellus to be the most interesting character, although his role is very small.

I find myself laughing at the story. Not by anything Virgil intended, but because of my modernistic view. I find Aeneas to be pious the way Candide is optimistic. Am I the only one?

I like Entellus mostly because he beats the pompous Metus.

Virgil's probably right about the humor of the story. I don't think there's much of a parody going on in Book V.

[mortalterror]

Somebody mentioned that Aeneas acts differently here. I can't remember right now, but this may mark the spot where Aeneas makes the transition from Trojan/Greek to proto-Roman. He becomes more stoic, or epicurean (again I forget which Virgil was). He stops showing so much emotion. He makes a switch from his berserker style of fighting to the cool, collected, even tempered professional man of war. He stops running from his destiny and becomes the strong masculine leader his people need him to be.

I've kind of lost place where we are. Is this the funeral games section in honor of Aeneas' father? That would signal his shift to the pater familias, the head of the family, where he is no longer subject to his father and becomes his own man. If this is the spot I remember it being, then there's a lot of character development coming. It also echoes the funeral games for Patroclus in the Iliad. Sorry to be so unspecific. I don't have my book by me.

I remember being really into the boxing section, just because I like boxing. But supposedly the part where one of the men has his blood so up at the end of a bout that he kills a steer by punching it was supposed to re-enforce that Greek berserker bloodlust mentality which we'll see Virgil moving away from later. Then there was that long section about the boat race, which is pictured in terms of a chariot race. A few years before Virgil wrote this poem, Augustus had initiated a new series of public games which he claimed had their root in ancient times and he was re-instating. That was his thing: pietas. He filled all the vacant priesthoods, restored temples and old customs. What Virgil is doing here is backing his patron up and saying "See, this is where the games come from."

[NickAdams]

Virgil's probably right about the humor of the story. I don't think there's much of a parody going on in Book V.

I agree. I know Virgil didn't intend it, but I find humor in most things (I thought Catcher in the Rye was hilarious), but I just thought it would be great to parody.


Somebody mentioned that Aeneas acts differently here. I can't remember right now, but this may mark the spot where Aeneas makes the transition from Trojan/Greek to proto-Roman. He becomes more stoic, or epicurean (again I forget which Virgil was). He stops showing so much emotion. He makes a switch from his berserker style of fighting to the cool, collected, even tempered professional man of war. He stops running from his destiny and becomes the strong masculine leader his people need him to be.

That's interesting, because I see the shift in Book Six. I stopped snickering and my Hemingway hairs stood up.

[Quark]

I've kind of lost place where we are. Is this the funeral games section in honor of Aeneas' father?

Yes, that's the section we're in right now. Book V is everything in between Dido's death and Aeneas's descend into the underworld.


this may mark the spot where Aeneas makes the transition from Trojan/Greek to proto-Roman. He becomes more stoic, or epicurean (again I forget which Virgil was). He stops showing so much emotion. He makes a switch from his berserker style of fighting to the cool, collected, even tempered professional man of war. He stops running from his destiny and becomes the strong masculine leader his people need him to be.

You're right that there is change in Aeneas in Book V, but I don't know if he becomes more stoic--or whether this change is part of progression. Like I mentioned in my last post, Aeneas almost breaks down toward the end when the ships are burned. He seemed much more stoic in Book IV when he dispassionately told off Dido. Also, further along in the story there are several instances where Aeneas becomes enraged and engages in that "berserker" style of fighting. The very last act he does in the Aeneid might fall in that category. I think you're right to notice the change in Aeneas, but I don't know if I agree that he progressing toward an ideal here. If there is a progression, it might be in the mind of the reader as he or she sees Aeneas in various situations and attitudes.


I remember being really into the boxing section, just because I like boxing. But supposedly the part where one of the men has his blood so up at the end of a bout that he kills a steer by punching it was supposed to re-enforce that Greek berserker bloodlust mentality which we'll see Virgil moving away from later. Then there was that long section about the boat race, which is pictured in terms of a chariot race. A few years before Virgil wrote this poem, Augustus had initiated a new series of public games which he claimed had their root in ancient times and he was re-instating. That was his thing: pietas. He filled all the vacant priesthoods, restored temples and old customs. What Virgil is doing here is backing his patron up and saying "See, this is where the games come from."

I didn't know that, mortal. Since there is so much in the Aeneid which is suggestive--and supporting--of Virgil's Rome, the funeral games probably also have their correlatives in Augustan Rome. That's a good point, mortal.


I agree. I know Virgil didn't intend it, but I find humor in most things (I thought Catcher in the Rye was hilarious), but I just thought it would be great to parody.

I'm sure a lot of the Aeneid is unintentionally funny. I find some of the battles at the end to be a little comical. They're just so over-the-top.


That's interesting, because I see the shift in Book Six. I stopped snickering and my Hemingway hairs stood up.

"Hemingway" hairs? Where do those grow?

[Virgil]

Well I finally caught up. Funny I don't notce a shift n Aeneas in Book V. He doesn't even have that large a role here.

I guess what everyone thinks of in Book V is the funeral games, and they are magnificent. I'm not sure if Nick is refering to Hemingway because of these games, but I do think Hemingway would have been proud of it. He may have even got the idea for his sporting event decriptions from here.

And while the games are inspiring and festive and heroic I can't help feel that the key to Book V is the notion of death. First of all the games are a commemoration for a funeral, the death of Anchises. And here we see the respect for the dead and especially the death of one’s father. I found this passage initiating the games particularly moving:


With that he [Aeneas] binds his own brows with his mother’s myrtle.
So does Helymus, so does Acestes ripe in years, the boy
Ascanius too, and the other young men take his lead.
Leaving the council now with thousands in his wake,
amid his immense cortege, Aeneas gains the tomb
and here he pours libations, each in proper order.
Two bowls of unmixed wine he tips on the ground
and two of fresh milk, two more of hallowed blood,
then scatters crimson flowers with this prayer:
“Hail, my blessed father, hail again! I salute
your ashes, your spirit and your shade—my father
I rescued once, but all for nothing. Not with you
would it be my fate to search for Italy’s shores
and destined fields and, whatever it may be,
the Italian river Tiber.”
(ll 88-102)
Virgil describes the slaughtering of sheep and swine and other animals, and we have the pseudo appearance of Anchises as a serpent, and later he personally comes as a shade. And then there is the death of Polinurus. This is carefully crafted on Virgil’s part. He starts the book with Polinurus. We see him piloting a ship, and as the weather turns rough questions father Neptune: “Why such cloudbanks wrapped around the sky?/Father Neptune, what are you whipping up for us now?” And then toward the end we see Neptune soothing Venus when she complains about the hardships of her son Aeneas. Neptune promises her smooth and uneventful seas for her son. Here are his words:


“And now as then, my concern for him stands firm.
So cast your fears to the winds. Just as you wish,
he will arrive at Avernus’ haven safe and sound.
Only one will be lost, one you seek at sea.
One life for the lives of many men.”
(ll 904-8)
The one who will die is Polinurus who is again piloting the ship. So Virgil crafts these book end scenes of Polinurus and Neptune surrounding the funeral games.

That final passage of Polinurus falling prey to the god of sleep and falling off the ship is fascinating. I wish I could copy the entire thing, but it’s a little long. I urge you to go back and read it. But here’s what I think is enlightening.


By now
dank night had nearly reached her turning-point in the sky,
and stretched on the hand thwarts beneath their oars
the crews gave way to a deep, quiet rest, when down
from the stars the God of Sleep came gliding gently,
cleaving the dark mists and scattering shadows,
hunting you, Ploinurus, bringing you fatal sleep
in all your innocence.
(ll 929-36)
So then, the “innocent” life is shed as a sacrifice for the rest of the crew, “one life for the lives of many me”. Of course it recalls the Christ story, but this is written before Christ. No wonder the people of the middle ages thought that Virgil’s work was a prefiguring of Christianity.

So why does Virgil intertwine the festive funeral games with all these allusions and narratives of death? I think it’s to show again the sacrifice of Aeneas and the Trojans to build Rome. So much pain and sacrifice has to go into the building of the state of Rome. So much heart aches. Happiness for Virgil is elusive and always tinged with sadness.

[Janine]

Virgil, I am a foreign invader! :lol: I was just curious, since you said you were occuppied in here tonight and could not post much on the short story thread; so stopped in to see how many posts you have all filled up, so far on this discussion of "The Aeneid"...felt to me like this discussion has been going on forever, so I peeked at page one and saw that now you are into your 5th month of posting. Just curious again - how far into this work are you and how much longer will it take to discuss? Will this be a year long project? I didn't realised the work was that long, but I am sure it is very involved, with much symbolism, etc. This is a little too 'brainy' for me. Noticed now the true scholar are left!

Quark, those book plates are really neat. Thank for posting them; I will have to check other pages to see if you posted more pictures. You always come up with interesting things to look at.

Well, just making my appearance and now my disappearance. Hi and goodbye everyone; happy posting!

[Virgil]

Virgil, I am a foreign invader! :lol: I was just curious, since you said you were occuppied in here tonight and could not post much on the short story thread; so stopped in to see how many posts you have all filled up, so far on this discussion of "The Aeneid"...felt to me like this discussion has been going on forever, so I peeked at page one and saw that now you are into your 5th month of posting. Just curious again - how far into this work are you and how much longer will it take to discuss? Will this be a year long project? I didn't realised the work was that long, but I am sure it is very involved, with much symbolism, etc. This is a little too 'brainy' for me. Noticed now the true scholar are left!

There are twelve books and we're on Book V. But after Book Vi it goes faster.

[Janine]

There are twelve books and we're on Book V. But after Book Vi it goes faster.

12 books? Yikes!:( I think you guys will be here for awhile yet. Have fun!:D

[NickAdams]

Virgil, I am a foreign invader! :lol: I was just curious, since you said you were occuppied in here tonight and could not post much on the short story thread; so stopped in to see how many posts you have all filled up, so far on this discussion of "The Aeneid"...felt to me like this discussion has been going on forever, so I peeked at page one and saw that now you are into your 5th month of posting. Just curious again - how far into this work are you and how much longer will it take to discuss? Will this be a year long project? I didn't realised the work was that long, but I am sure it is very involved, with much symbolism, etc. This is a little too 'brainy' for me. Noticed now the true scholar are left!

I'm quite sure that I'm adding little, if anything, to the discussion. My first read is always a superficial one.

[Quark]

Well I finally caught up. Funny I don't notce a shift n Aeneas in Book V. He doesn't even have that large a role here.

The shift, if there is one, I think is between unyielding Aeneas in Book IV and conciliatory, sensitive Aeneas in Book V. Vergil says of the hero in the previous Book:

"No tears, no pleading, move him ; no man can yield
When a god stops his ears. As northern winds
Sweep over Alpine mountains, in their fury
Fighting each other to uproot an oak-tree
Whose ancient strength endures against their roaring
And he trunk shudders and the leaves come down
Strewing the ground, but the old tree clings to the mountain,
Its roots as deep toward hell as its crest toward heaven,
And still holds on--even so, Aeneas, shaken
By storm-blasts of appeal, by voices calling
From every side, is tossed and torn, and steady." (iv, 438-48)

I found this slightly different from the Aeneas in Book V who is overwhelmed by his problems. Vergil again:
"And now Aeneas, stunned by the bitter evil,
Was troubled at heart, uncertain, anxious, grieving:
What could be done? forget the call of the fates
And settle here in Sicily, or keep on
To the coast of Italy?" (v, 700-03)
And:
"The old man's words still troubled him; the mind
Was torn this way and that" (v, 719-20)

Aeneas is much more uncertain suddenly. Also, he concedes much more. In Book IV he doesn't give in to any of Dido's wishes even as she demands less and less. Here, in Book V, he's generously handing out awards and letting the unruly members of his crew stay in Sicily. Maybe these changes in Aeneas are caused by the Gods telling him to do different things, but for whatever reason I think he does appear differently in Book V.


I'm not sure if Nick is refering to Hemingway because of these games, but I do think Hemingway would have been proud of it.

Oh, that makes sense. I didn't get it at first.


I can't help feel that the key to Book V is the notion of death.

There are a few deaths in Book V, but they're kind of the book ends and not really at the center of the action. Anchises dies, but they throw him in a tomb and then get on with it. Polinurus drowns, but that's more of a lead-in for Book VI. There's death at the beginning as they watch Dido's funeral pyre and bury Anchises, and there's death at the end with Polinurus. I suppose you could say that frames the action in Book V, but the action itself is more about life. It's about nationalities with Acestes and Aeneas, and it's about the wrangling of the Gods with Venus and Juno. There's quite a lot of life at the center of the Book.


So why does Virgil intertwine the festive funeral games with all these allusions and narratives of death? I think it’s to show again the sacrifice of Aeneas and the Trojans to build Rome.

Their deaths do show the pain and suffering that went into building Rome. Where do you find allusions to death in the funeral games, though?


I peeked at page one and saw that now you are into your 5th month of posting. Just curious again - how far into this work are you and how much longer will it take to discuss? Will this be a year long project?

Has it been five months already? I guess it has been pretty slow work. Maybe it's because we don't have that glorious leader you always say these threads need.


This is a little too 'brainy' for me. Noticed now the true scholar are left!

Wait, I don't follow.


Quark, those book plates are really neat. Thank for posting them; I will have to check other pages to see if you posted more pictures. You always come up with interesting things to look at.

Those took me forever to find, actually. I had seen them before, but I couldn't find them on the web anywhere. The ones I eventually found were a little small unfortunately.


I'm quite sure that I'm adding little, if anything, to the discussion. My first read is always a superficial one.

Well you don't need to post a nine-hundred word, well-researched essay to add to the conversation. Sometimes just asking a good question or saying the first thing that comes into your head really helps. You've added a number of things, Nick. Don't say you haven't.

[Virgil]

The shift, if there is one, I think is between unyielding Aeneas in Book IV and conciliatory, sensitive Aeneas in Book V. Vergil says of the hero in the previous Book:

"No tears, no pleading, move him ; no man can yield
When a god stops his ears. As northern winds
Sweep over Alpine mountains, in their fury
Fighting each other to uproot an oak-tree
Whose ancient strength endures against their roaring
And he trunk shudders and the leaves come down
Strewing the ground, but the old tree clings to the mountain,
Its roots as deep toward hell as its crest toward heaven,
And still holds on--even so, Aeneas, shaken
By storm-blasts of appeal, by voices calling
From every side, is tossed and torn, and steady." (iv, 438-48)

I found this slightly different from the Aeneas in Book V who is overwhelmed by his problems. Vergil again:
"And now Aeneas, stunned by the bitter evil,
Was troubled at heart, uncertain, anxious, grieving:
What could be done? forget the call of the fates
And settle here in Sicily, or keep on
To the coast of Italy?" (v, 700-03)
And:
"The old man's words still troubled him; the mind
Was torn this way and that" (v, 719-20)

That just strikes me as a different reaction to different circumstances. The claim that was made that this is the place where Aeneas transitioned from a Trojan to a Roman. I see no evidence for that. Would a Roman be characterized as more sensitive or conciliatory? :lol: Frankly if such a transition occurs I would think it would be after coming out of the underworld in Book VI. But we'll get to that.


Aeneas is much more uncertain suddenly. Also, he concedes much more. In Book IV he doesn't give in to any of Dido's wishes even as she demands less and less. Here, in Book V, he's generously handing out awards and letting the unruly members of his crew stay in Sicily. Maybe these changes in Aeneas are caused by the Gods telling him to do different things, but for whatever reason I think he does appear differently in Book V.
Again I think it's just different circumstances.


There are a few deaths in Book V, but they're kind of the book ends and not really at the center of the action. Anchises dies, but they throw him in a tomb and then get on with it. Polinurus drowns, but that's more of a lead-in for Book VI. There's death at the beginning as they watch Dido's funeral pyre and bury Anchises, and there's death at the end with Polinurus. I suppose you could say that frames the action in Book V, but the action itself is more about life. It's about nationalities with Acestes and Aeneas, and it's about the wrangling of the Gods with Venus and Juno. There's quite a lot of life at the center of the Book.
This is true, but the contrast is striking. Virgil is layering the thorns of life with the roses. I still think the undercurrent of death gives this chapter a three dimensionality. If it was just funeral games, I think it would not be all that interesting. The death allusions suggest a complex view of life.


Their deaths do show the pain and suffering that went into building Rome. Where do you find allusions to death in the funeral games, though?
Well, not so much within the games, but that the games are a celebration of someone who has died.


Has it been five months already? I guess it has been pretty slow work. Maybe it's because we don't have that glorious leader you always say these threads need.
My fault. I have failed in my role of leadership here. :blush:

[Quark]

That just strikes me as a different reaction to different circumstances. The claim that was made that this is the place where Aeneas transitioned from a Trojan to a Roman. I see no evidence for that. Would a Roman be characterized as more sensitive or conciliatory? :lol: Frankly if such a transition occurs I would think it would be after coming out of the underworld in Book VI. But we'll get to that.

Mortal brought up the idea of Aeneas moving from Trojan to Roman, but I think he was just making a general statement about Aeneas over the entire poem and not just Book V.


Again I think it's just different circumstances.

It's angry women in Book V demanding things from Aeneas and an angry woman in Book IV demanding things from Aeneas. I suppose the Gods are telling him to act differently, but that doesn't really say anything about Aeneas's character.


This is true, but the contrast is striking. Virgil is layering the thorns of life with the roses. I still think the undercurrent of death gives this chapter a three dimensionality. If it was just funeral games, I think it would not be all that interesting. The death allusions suggest a complex view of life.

Are there allusions to death outside the actual deaths and funerals at the ends of the section?


My fault. I have failed in my role of leadership here. :blush:

Sorry, I didn't mean to take a jab at you. I was just having fun with Janine's idea of thread leadership.

[bluevictim]

Has it been five months already? I guess it has been pretty slow work. Maybe it's because we don't have that glorious leader you always say these threads need.Well, I'm glad you all have been going slow. I haven't had much time lately to participate here, and I probably won't for a while, so I just hope there will still be some discussion going on when I get a chance to jump back in!

[Quark]

Well, I'm glad you all have been going slow. I haven't had much time lately to participate here, and I probably won't for a while, so I just hope there will still be some discussion going on when I get a chance to jump back in!

You're in luck. We're moving through the Aeneid at a pace of about one Book per month. At that rate we'll finish in '09. Hopefully, though, things will start picking up here.

[Petrarch's Love]

Glad to see you guys faithfully keeping this discussion going. I've been overwhelmingly busy of late but found a scrap of time this evening to think a little about Aeneid five.


Their deaths do show the pain and suffering that went into building Rome. Where do you find allusions to death in the funeral games, though?

Well they are funeral games...sorry, couldn't help myself.:p Seriously, though, I think you both are equally right about the mixture of life and death in this book. The games are indeed a break, and a celebration of the health and vitality of the participants. Just as the funeral games for Patroclos in the Iliad act as welcome respite from the relentless account of battle, so these games function as a break from the struggle of the search for Rome. So I agree with Quark when he says, "there's quite a lot of life at the center of the Book. "

At the same time I also agree with Virg. about the importance of death in this book. Not only, as everyone's already said, does death frame the book (with Dido's funeral pyre and the burial of Anchises at the start and the amazing description of the death of Polinurus at the end), but both the games and the incident with the women are fundamentally reactions to death. Funeral games, both here and in the Iliad, do indeed function as a celebration of life, but it is a celebration of life consciously in reaction to and in tension with death. Part of what makes the games in both the Iliad and the Aeneid profoundly important is that they function as a simultaneous reminder of death and an insistence on the continuation of life coming out of that death. After the traumatic accounts of massive death and the destruction of Troy and the dramatic death of Dido in the early books, these middle books, five and six, are about coming to terms with the losses of the past and moving forward. Book five is concerned with different modes of public mourning. The death of Aeneas' father is recognized and mourned in the funeral games, which at the same time serve to connect the participants to present pleasures. The lamenting and then frantic women who threaten to burn the ships are a different kind of public mourning. They are set up in direct opposition to the controlled and decorous reaction to the remembrance of death in the funeral games. In book five Aeneas is figuring out how to react to the losses of the past and move forward into the future within the public sphere. He needs to recognize who in the group are strong, lively warriors ready to react to their losses by engaging heartily in the games--as they will need to later in battle--as opposed to those who, like the women, can't take it any more and are too scarred by past losses and afraid of future losses to take part in the sacrifices ahead in the founding of Rome.

Just as book five focuses on the recognition of the losses of the past and the transition to the life of the present and the enterprises of the future in the public sphere, so book six focuses on the recognition of past loss as a means of moving forward on a more personal/familial level...but since not everyone has read this before I won't spoil anything by moving into the fantastic book six just yet.

[Virgil]

Good post Petrarch. And I'm loving Book VI. :D I think it's the best one.

[Petrarch's Love]

And I'm loving Book VI. I think it's the best one.

Me too. :)

[Quark]

Glad to see you guys faithfully keeping this discussion going. I've been overwhelmingly busy of late but found a scrap of time this evening to think a little about Aeneid five.

Thanks for posting Petrarch. It's been difficult for any of us to find time for the thread. There's interest in the topic, but all of us have been too overtaxed to participate much. Virgil blogs and writes an obscene number of posts in other threads, Nick is reading the Aeneid for the first time, and I've been busy trying to get the little circle of Chekhov readers here to understand ambiguity and irony. Unfortunately, none of us has time to lead the discussion or even post regularly. I do hope we can get through Book VI (everyone's favorite), though.


Well they are funeral games...sorry, couldn't help myself.:p

Yes, but I think we're letting our imagination run away with us when we say that the games must be "about" death because they were prompted by someone passing away. I think you have to trust your own impression of the action rather than merely interpolate from the book ends and the title what the games represent.


At the same time I also agree with Virg. about the importance of death in this book. Not only, as everyone's already said, does death frame the book (with Dido's funeral pyre and the burial of Anchises at the start and the amazing description of the death of Polinurus at the end)

Okay, this is a giant paragraph, so I'm going to break it into parts and then respond.


but both the games and the incident with the women are fundamentally reactions to death. Funeral games, both here and in the Iliad, do indeed function as a celebration of life, but it is a celebration of life consciously in reaction to and in tension with death. Part of what makes the games in both the Iliad and the Aeneid profoundly important is that they function as a simultaneous reminder of death and an insistence on the continuation of life coming out of that death.

This is the part that throws me. I don't think the women are responding to death. It seems more like they are tired of sailing, rather than afraid they might die. Iris's argument depends on the Trojans being discontented about their nomadic life, not being terrified of death. She even claims to prefer death above this voyage. Her angry speech goes like this:


"Alas!" said one, "what oceans yet remain
For us to sail! what labors to sustain!"
All take the word, and, with a gen'ral groan,
Implore the gods for peace, and places of their own.
The goddess, great in mischief, views their pains,
And in a woman's form her heav'nly limbs restrains.
In face and shape old Beroe she became,
Doryclus' wife, a venerable dame,
Once blest with riches, and a mother's name.
Thus chang'd, amidst the crying crowd she ran,
Mix'd with the matrons, and these words began:
"O wretched we, whom not the Grecian pow'r,
Nor flames, destroy'd, in Troy's unhappy hour!
O wretched we, reserv'd by cruel fate,
Beyond the ruins of the sinking state!
Now sev'n revolving years are wholly run,
Since this improsp'rous voyage we begun;
Since, toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to lands,
Inhospitable rocks and barren sands,
Wand'ring in exile thro' the stormy sea,
We search in vain for flying Italy.
Now cast by fortune on this kindred land,
What should our rest and rising walls withstand,
Or hinder here to fix our banish'd band?
O country lost, and gods redeem'd in vain,
If still in endless exile we remain!
Shall we no more the Trojan walls renew,
Or streams of some dissembled Simois view!
Haste, join with me, th' unhappy fleet consume!
Cassandra bids; and I declare her doom.
In sleep I saw her; she supplied my hands
(For this I more than dreamt) with flaming brands:
'With these,' said she, 'these wand'ring ships destroy:
These are your fatal seats, and this your Troy.'
Time calls you now; the precious hour employ:
Slack not the good presage, while Heav'n inspires
Our minds to dare, and gives the ready fires.
See! Neptune's altars minister their brands:
The god is pleas'd; the god supplies our hands."

Iris is playing off the Trojan yearning for a homeland and comfort. There isn't any tension with death here. It's a desire for life--a good life. To make the point even more clear, a woman emerges from the crowd to tell everyone that the real Beroe has cloistered herself in her hut to grieve. The actual grieving over death is taking place off-stage! Far from focusing on death, Vergil is removing it to an unseen hut. This is important for the structure of the Book and the Aeneid in general. Book V is the reprieve from suffering--and, yes, even death. Trojans die in every location except Sicily. They're welcomed by a friendly king who doesn't arouse passion in Aeneas. The games are a jovial wrangling for place. Euryalus and Sinus show friendship. There's an eroticized description of boys. Romans and Sicilians have a good natured contest. The gods continue their struggle. All of these are celebrations of life; and, despite the reason for the games, I don't see how the action shows tension with death. It is framed by death; however, and that is important to the structure. I'll explain in the next paragraph.


After the traumatic accounts of massive death and the destruction of Troy and the dramatic death of Dido in the early books, these middle books, five and six, are about coming to terms with the losses of the past and moving forward. Book five is concerned with different modes of public mourning. The death of Aeneas' father is recognized and mourned in the funeral games, which at the same time serve to connect the participants to present pleasures.

This is a good observation. Books V and VI are linked by the idea of loss and suffering. The other part I disagree with you is in your characterization of Book V. As I've argued before Book V isn't part of the mourning. It's the escape from it. That's why the action of Book V is contrasted by death and a horrible sea voyage at the ends. Book VI is linked with it because this is the part where Aeneas has to move on. Sicily wasn't the final rest from pain and suffering that was promised to him. Aeneas needs to find the courage to continue which toward the end of Book VI he lacks. He admits that he'd rather forget and live in the paradise of Elysium than help the Trojans reach Italy. It takes Anchises to rally his spirits and convince him that it's worth the struggle. This is the progress of Book V and VI. It isn't about the Trojans properly mourning. It's about Aeneas deciding that the founding of the Roman empire is just that important. Book V acts as the alternative choice for Aeneas; and, for the reader, it works as a brief reprieve from the intensity of the other Books.

I hope I didn't go on to long, but this is key for understanding Book VI.

[Petrarch's Love]

Hi Quark--I think we're actually agreeing about this more than it might appear.

Book V is the reprieve from suffering--and, yes, even death. Trojans die in every location except Sicily. They're welcomed by a friendly king who doesn't arouse passion in Aeneas. The games are a jovial wrangling for place. Euryalus and Sinus show friendship. There's an eroticized description of boys. Romans and Sicilians have a good natured contest. The gods continue their struggle. All of these are celebrations of life; and, despite the reason for the games, I don't see how the action shows tension with death.
Absolutely, I agree with you that this book is not about death in the sense of directly engaging with death in the action of its scenes or in the sense of being full of mourning. I think you're completely right to bring out how much celebration of life is going on in this book, and certainly you're spot on in saying that the pith of the book is about sorting out the importance of founding Rome. The specifics of the scenes of the games are indeed entirely light hearted, and taken out of context could easily be read as an untroubled account of sport in a peaceful kingdom. What I'm trying to point out is that within the structure and the context of the work as a whole, the inclusion of this book functions as a quiet period when everyone finally has the time to take a breath and begin a transition from the remembrance of loss and hardship (and perhaps "loss and hardship" are better terms than the more narrowing term "death" to describe what I feel is being reacted to in these scenes). Perhaps our fundamental difference lies here:

As I've argued before Book V isn't part of the mourning. It's the escape from it. That's why the action of Book V is contrasted by death and a horrible sea voyage at the ends.

You're right that book five is not mourning in the sense of initial lamentations and beating of the breasts, and that there is a sense of moving on in this book. I think where we differ is that I see this as not an escape from mourning, but a later part of the mourning process. We often think of mourning in terms of being the initial dramatic reaction to fresh grief, but a great loss is actually mourned for a long time, and mourned in a different way a year or more later than it is at the time. Up until book five everyone's been so busy actually experiencing loss and fighting for survival that they haven't had time to fully recognize their grief. Though I am frequently annoyed by the overuse of the term "closure" in the modern psychology of grieving, I think that perhaps closure comes closest to what I am getting at in my remarks. In book five the people have the time to recognize and honor the loss of Aeneas' father in the form of the games, which are in turn a way of bringing to a close the very grief they recognize. There's a similar dynamic, though expressed in a very different way, in the outburst of the women. They finally have a moment of peace and it becomes the occasion for an outburst of the rage and anguish that has built up beginning with the losses at Troy and continuing with all the dramatic events and losses throughout their journey since. They aren't dealing with all that's happened as well as the participants in the games. They're sick and tired of constant loss, and the emotions finally seeth to the forefront before they can move out of this anger into a settlement for the future.

Note that I'm not necessarily arguing that this has to be a primary reading of the book. Certainly one could easily just read this as an interlude of games and the women getting fed up with their nomadic life. On a more subtle secondary level, however I think that this interlude does very powerfully emerge from the context of the loss that comes before it and acts not so much as an escape as a direct transition from remembering what has been suffered to embracing what is and what is to come.

[Quark]

Yesterday the website must have been down because I couldn't get the page to load. Did anyone else have that problem? Looking over some of the threads I see some people posted last night, so it must have been working for them. Maybe it was just selectively down for a few people.


Hi Quark--I think we're actually agreeing about this more than it might appear.

Yes, I think I misunderstood your last post. Annoyingly, though, I still don't agree enough to write a short post.


Absolutely, I agree with you that this book is not about death in the sense of directly engaging with death in the action of its scenes or in the sense of being full of mourning. I think you're completely right to bring out how much celebration of life is going on in this book, and certainly you're spot on in saying that the pith of the book is about sorting out the importance of founding Rome.


You're right that book five is not mourning in the sense of initial lamentations and beating of the breasts, and that there is a sense of moving on in this book.

Oh, good, I'm glad we agree on the action and the mood of Book V. At first I didn't understand what you meant by "tension." I thought you were suggesting that Vergil was casting a gloom over the games--which you have to admit would be odd interpretation. This is the most upbeat Book in the entire epic. The word Vergil uses almost obsessively throughout this section is laetus, or "joyous." I was starting to wonder which Aeneid you and Virgil were reading. Now I understand better what you meant by "tension" and mourning.


I think where we differ is that I see this as not an escape from mourning, but a later part of the mourning process.

No, I agree with this too. I even liked your distinction between Book V and Books VI as different forms of grieving. Aeneas does connect the ritualized joy of the games to the death of his father, and the deaths at the ends of the story do have an effect on our understanding of the action. I just think that these tenuous connections to death are lost in the drama of celebration and revolt. We have to keep remembering that, yes, the games are in memory of Anchises, and, yes, the women are in this position because of death. Even the impassive reader with a penchant for cause and effect has to be swept along by the action in Book V. Vergil, himself, seems to as well. He avoids bringing up death in situations where the connection would be quite easy to make. Iris's speech is one example, but there are many more. The connection is there, so I agree that the Book is partly concerned with death. But, we should realize that it isn't primarily a contemplation of death. That would get in the way with the progression that begins in Book V and ends in Book VI.


Note that I'm not necessarily arguing that this has to be a primary reading of the book.

I guess I agreed more than I thought. Maybe I could have written a short post.

Anyway, we're close to Book VI now. I want to post something about the Gods in this part before we move on, but besides that I don't have much to add. I don't know if Petrarch wants to comment on the other argument Virgil and I were having about Aeneas. I could wait for that. Hopefully I'm not going too slow for everyone, though. I've been shuffling my feet while I wait for people to join the conversation, but I don't want to bore those of us already here.

[Petrarch's Love]

I'm glad we've agreed to agree, Quark. Book V: Happy times delicately laced with a latent subtext of death. :D

Yesterday the website must have been down because I couldn't get the page to load. Did anyone else have that problem? Looking over some of the threads I see some people posted last night, so it must have been working for them. Maybe it was just selectively down for a few people.

The site was down for me too. Must have been some sort of technical snafu.


Anyway, we're close to Book VI now. I want to post something about the Gods in this part before we move on, but besides that I don't have much to add. I don't know if Petrarch wants to comment on the other argument Virgil and I were having about Aeneas. I could wait for that. Hopefully I'm not going too slow for everyone, though. I've been shuffling my feet while I wait for people to join the conversation, but I don't want to bore those of us already here.

Given the stack of student papers I'll be getting within the next hour or so combined with the amount of work I still need to get done on my proposal over the next couple of weeks, I'll probably not be participating for at least the next few days, so certainly don't hold things up on my account. I'll be interested to pop in and see how the discussion on book VI is shaping up, though, and it seems unlikely that I could let that book pass without some sort of comment. :)

[NickAdams]

I'm on book VII now. I'm very cruious to see how things proceed after what happened in the underworld.

[Quark]

Before we move on to Book VI, I thought I should bring up the death of Palinurus. Here's the Dryden translation (probably not the best, but it's the easiest to find online):


Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears;
And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas wears.
Then thus the traitor god began his tale:
"The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale;
The ships, without thy care, securely sail.
Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I
Will take the rudder and thy room supply."
To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep:
"Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep,
The harlot smiles of her dissembling face,
And to her faith commit the Trojan race?
Shall I believe the Siren South again,
And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main?"
He said: his fasten'd hands the rudder keep,
And, fix'd on heav'n, his eyes repel invading sleep.
The god was wroth, and at his temples threw
A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew:
The pilot, vanquish'd by the pow'r divine,
Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine.
Scarce were his limbs extended at their length,
The god, insulting with superior strength,
Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea,
And, with the stern, the rudder tore away.
Headlong he fell, and, struggling in the main,
Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain.
The victor daemon mounts obscure in air,
While the ship sails without the pilot's care.
On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies;
But what the man forsook, the god supplies,
And o'er the dang'rous deep secure the navy flies;
Glides by the Sirens' cliffs, a shelfy coast,
Long infamous for ships and sailors lost,
And white with bones. Th' impetuous ocean roars,
And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores.
The watchful hero felt the knocks, and found
The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground.
Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself
The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf.
Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast,
Deplor'd his death; and thus his pain express'd:
"For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring sky,
Thy naked corpse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie.

Besides just being a very poetic passage, I think it shows the Gods taking over the leadership from human control. In the middle of Book V Aeneas makes all the important decisions, but toward the end there's a shift back toward divine leadership. In the archery contest, for example, the Gods decide to ignite Acestes arrow and make him the victor even though the contest had already been won. It seems like they're wresting the judging of the games out Aeneas control. Likewise, by killing Palinurus Neptune is taking control of the ships from the Trojans.


Given the stack of student papers I'll be getting within the next hour or so combined with the amount of work I still need to get done on my proposal over the next couple of weeks, I'll probably not be participating for at least the next few days, so certainly don't hold things up on my account.

You still have papers to grade in June? Tough break. I'm sure the proposal will go well, though.


I'm on book VII now. I'm very cruious to see how things proceed after what happened in the underworld.

Well, Anchises and the Sybil kind of give it away.

[NickAdams]

Well, Anchises and the Sybil kind of give it away.

I mean in regards to his departure through the false.

[Quark]

I mean in regards to his departure through the false.

Their exit through the portal of false dreams has baffled many readers. No one is entirely sure what Vergil meant by it. Some believe this means that everything Aeneas experienced in the underworld or after it is a false dream. To me, this seems a little far-fetched. I think they exit through the false because they are not actually dead.

[Quark]

It seems like we're ready to move on. I guess that means I should introduce the next Book.


Book VI
http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk18/aquark2/smallerturner.jpg
Detail from Turner's Aeneas and the Sybil (1798)


I was surprised to find that there's actually a dearth of good paintings of Hades. One would think that it would be a much painted locale, but it turns out that there are few good depictions of Book VI. Brueghel's is perhaps the best for its wide view and dark colors, but it portrays the suffering in the underworld much differently than in the Aeneid. I decided to go with some more accurate paintings of Book VI, but I think they misrepresent the tone of this part of the Aeneid. If you speculated from the two images I posted, you would probably think this section must be scenic and cheery. Really, though, it's quite gloomy. The Book starts with Aeneas arriving at Cumae and inquiring of the Sybil direction to the underworld. The seer explains a few tasks that Aeneas has to accomplish to gain entrance, and Aeneas (with divine help) finishes them all. Then, he descends into the home of the dead where he meets with former friends and acquaintances. After much sorrow, he finds his father. Anchises explains the grand plan that Aeneas must realize, and the son leaves through the ivory portal to go found Rome.

Now that the introduction is out of the way, let's start the discussion of Book VI.

http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk18/aquark2/smallerimage.jpg
Low resolution image of The Vision of Aeneas in the Elysian Fields by Sebastiano Conca (1740)

[Quark]

Ugh, I was hoping I wouldn't have to start the discussion. It not that I don't like Book VI. No, it may be my favorite Book. I've just read it so many times that even I'm beginning to grow tired with what I have to say about it. I am curious to know what other people gather from it, though. To get things going, I'll post what I tell everyone about Book VI.

The sixth Book breaks into three dramatic parts: Aeneas relinquishing control to the Gods, Aeneas witnessing the suffering of Hades, and then finally Aeneas gaining resolve in Elysium. The first part begins when Aeneas begins the tasks allotted to him by the Sibyl. He isn't able to accomplish any of these by himself and only faith will allow him pass into the underworld. Initially, the Sibyl demands that he pray. Then, the Sibyl tells him he must find the Golden Bough, but he's told that only a divinely chosen person will be able to take it. Aeneas can't even find the tree without the guides sent by Venus. After he gets the metallic branch, he must perform funeral rites for the Gods. Each of these three tasks force Aeneas to trust in the heavenly will and not his own.

Below, he's confronted with the shades of characters who represent the suffering in Aeneas's life. He meets Palinurus, Dido, and Deiphobus. Each character portrays part of Aeneas's pain since the downfall of Troy. Palinurus, the most recently deceased, represents the difficult voyage the Trojans have had to make. Dido is love that Aeneas has had to forgo. Deiphobus reminds Aeneas of the fall of Troy, and the fact that he couldn't fight to save it. Together these characters push Aeneas to the brink of despair.

Later the dispirited Aeneas finds his father in Elysium. Anchises rallies Aeneas by explaining to him the glory of Rome. This completes the movement from devotion through despair to firm resolve. Aeneas emerges from the underworld a strong stoic leader. Also, this process quiets any reservations the reader may have about Aeneas's character. By having him go through this process Vergil justifies--and even glorifies--his hero.

The personal progression of Aeneas, however, is not the only going on in Book VI. In fact, it's probably not even the most interesting. More entertaining--at least for me--has always been poetry behind the mood and emotion of this section. The mystery and wonder of the underworld, the pathos in his conversations with friends, and the hope at the end probably captivate the reader as much as what's happening to Aeneas. I'll talk about this more and post some chunks of Book VI in my next post.

[Virgil]

Thanks Quark. Let's spend some time reviewing Book VI, since it is so central to the epic. Let's look at various elements of it. First, I wanted to understand the remarkable character of the Sybil of Cumae. Here's something from Wkipedia:

The word sibyl comes (via Latin) from the ancient Greek word sibylla, meaning prophetess. There were eventually many Sibyls in the ancient world,[1] but because of the importance of the Cumaean Sibyl in the legends of early Rome codified in Virgil's Aeneid VI, she became the most famous among Romans, supplanting the Erythraean Sibyl famed among Greeks: in Latin she was often simply referred to as The Sibyl.

So The word sibyl comes (via Latin) from the ancient Greek word sibylla, meaning prophetess. There were eventually many Sibyls in the ancient world,[1] but because of the importance of the Cumaean Sibyl in the legends of early Rome codified in Virgil's Aeneid VI, she became the most famous among Romans, supplanting the Erythraean Sibyl famed among Greeks: in Latin she was often simply referred to as The Sibyl.

irgil did not invent the term and she is not the only sybil. Apparently the legends of Rome already had sybils. I had not known that.

Apparently certain prophesies by Sybils were codified in Roman history:

The story of the acquisition of the Sibylline Books by Lucius Tarquinius Superbus, the semi-legendary last king of the Roman Kingdom, or Tarquinius Priscus, is one of the famous mythic elements of Roman history.[3]

Centuries ago, concurrent with the 50th Olympiad and the Founding of the City of Rome, an old woman "who was not a native of the country" (Dionysius) arrived incognita in Rome. She offered nine books of prophecies to King Tarquin; and as the king declined to purchase them, owing to the exorbitant price she demanded, she burned three and offered the remaining six to Tarquin at the same stiff price, which he again refused, whereupon she burned three more and repeated her offer. Tarquin then relented and purchased the last three at the full original price, whereupon she "disappeared from among men" (Dionysius).

The books were thereafter kept in the Temple of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill, Rome, to be consulted only in emergencies. The temple burned down in the 80s BC, and the books with it, necessitating a re-collection of Sibylline prophecies from all parts of the empire (Tacitus 6.12). These were carefully sorted and those determined to be legitimate were saved in the rebuilt temple. The Emperor Augustus had them moved to the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill, where they remained for most of the remaining Imperial Period.

The Books were burned in AD 405 by the General Flavius Stilicho, who was a Christian and regarded the books as Pagan and therefore "evil". At the time of the Visigothic invasion five years later in AD 410, certain Pagan apologists bemoaned the loss of the books, claiming that the invasion of the city was evidence of the wrath of the Pagan gods over the destruction of the books.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cumaean_Sibyl

WHat's interesting is that the cave where the Sybil of Cumae lives is in the sacred grove of the goddess Diana. Diana is a goddess of female power, the goddess of the moon, the sister of Apollo. There is a world of female power associated here.


Now carved out of the rockly flanks of Cumae
lies an enormous cavern pierced by a hundred tunnels,
a hundred mouths with as many voices rushng out,
the Sybl's rant replies. They have just gained
the sacred sill when the virgin cries aloud:
"Now is the time to ask your fate to speak!
The god, look, the god!"
So she cries before
the entrance--suddenly all her features, all
her color changes, her braided hair flies loose
and her breast heaves, her heart bursts with frenzy,
she seems to rise in height, the ring of her voice no longer
human--the breath, the pwer of god comes closer, closer.
"Why so slow Trojan Aeneas? she shouts, "so slow
to pray, to swear your vows? Not until you do
will the great jaws of our spellbound house gape wide."
And with that command the prophetess fell silent.
(ll 52-67)

Two observations here: 1) No matter how devut pius Aeneas actually is, he is still criticized for being too slow to pray to the gods. 2) The image being emphasized in association with the Sybil are openings, caverns, tunnels, cave, mouths, things that open, "gape wide". Please forgive me for this, it's a little embarressing but I think it's implied in the text, it reminds me of female genitalia. Here's a picture of the actual cave entrance the sybil is supposed to have lived:
http://www.vergil.clarku.edu/sybil.jpg

The other association to the sybil is her voice. It is her voice through which she formulates the prophesies.


But the Sybil, still not broken in by Apollo, storms
with a wild fury through her cave. And the more she tries
to pitch the great god off her breast, the more his bridle
exhuasts her raving lips, overwhelming her untamed heart,
bending her to his will. Now the hundred immense
mouths of the house swing open, all on their own,
and bear the Sybil's answers through the air:
You who have braved the terrors of the sea,
... a city built by Greeks!"
(ll93-116)
Her voice is a direct contact with the gods. I find this an incredible creation on Virgil's part, undoubtly taken from Roman folklore from which we don't probaly have the full context.

[Quark]

I wanted to understand the remarkable character of the Sybil of Cumae. Here's something from Wkipedia:

Interesting. I didn't know the Romans had systematized prophesy so thoroughly. Book VI certainly must not have seemed like a stretch for any, then, contemporary readers. Or, maybe there were a few sticklers saying things like "The Sibyl is supposed to have nine books! Not four! Outrage!"


WHat's interesting is that the cave where the Sybil of Cumae lives is in the sacred grove of the goddess Diana. Diana is a goddess of female power, the goddess of the moon, the sister of Apollo. There is a world of female power associated here.

I hadn't thought about the cave showing feminine power. Diana is the goddess of sorcery, so that's why I thought it would be a natural choice for Vergil. He seems to be trying to make the underworld appear mysterious and magical. Who better for a architect of the underworld than Diana, then?


Please forgive me for this, it's a little embarressing but I think it's implied in the text, it reminds me of female genitalia. Here's a picture of the actual cave entrance the sybil is supposed to have lived:

That is a sexy cave. I'm surprised you didn't have blur the entrance. It may be a stretch, though, to interpret this sexually. I understand that we have a woman with her hair coming undone and her clothes flying off--my favorite part. And, I also know that she standing by some orifice-like holes. Yet, for all this, it seems like there's no other way Vergil could do it. The clothes flying off seems more aimed to show the tempestuous force of the Sibyl, and the passageways have to be holes. I'll go back and look some more at the beginning of Book VI to see if I can find anything suggestive, but I'm not sure I will. We'll have to wait and see what other readers come away with.


Her voice is a direct contact with the gods. I find this an incredible creation on Virgil's part, undoubtly taken from Roman folklore from which we don't probaly have the full context.

Yeah, I don't know how much of the Sibyl Vergil imagines and how much was already assumed. She is a commanding character.

[nessgavin]

I'll be reading The Aenead in January 2009. Anyone still reading it? LOL

[Virgil]

I'll be reading The Aenead in January 2009. Anyone still reading it? LOL

I never did finish the second half. I will join you in a discussion if you wish. Just go ahead and post comments as you read. :)

[nessgavin]

Thanks Virgil.
I'm into book 2 of Dryden's translation. I'm finding very beautiful and moving.
I'm struck by the sense of predestination, fate, etc. Different from the Iliad and the Odyssey. The Iliad had more than the Odyssey but much of it seemed to be the gods playing with mortals. The Odyssey seemed to give a lot of responibility to the mortals. From the opening when the gods laugh and say that the mortals just blame them for their troubles when in fact they make their own hardships. But the Aeneid is very fatalistic. Interesting change.

[Quark]

I'm finding very beautiful and moving.

Book II is pretty exciting. Drama, fighting, gods--there's a lot going on. I like the part when Aeneas sees the Gods wrecking Troy and realizes that everything's lost. It often reminds me of other situations when it seems like things are out of your control.


I'm struck by the sense of predestination, fate, etc. Different from the Iliad and the Odyssey. The Iliad had more than the Odyssey but much of it seemed to be the gods playing with mortals. The Odyssey seemed to give a lot of responibility to the mortals. From the opening when the gods laugh and say that the mortals just blame them for their troubles when in fact they make their own hardships. But the Aeneid is very fatalistic. Interesting change.

The Gods do appear to be more commanding here. It could be because Vergil had a better idea of the narrative's shape to begin with than did Homer. Since the Iliad and Odysses were oral tales subject to retelling and all the alterations that come it, Homer probably didn't know exactly what would follow as much as Vergil who could devise the entire work ahead of time. Vergil, then, could put the Gods in charge of the narrative in a way that perhaps Homer couldn't. That is what the Gods do in the Aeneid, after all. They tell Aeneas exactly what's going to happen in the story--what direction that narrative will take. Aeneas has to bend his will to the events forecasted.

[Bartolomeus]

I too am reading the Aeneid this year. Happy to participate in the forum.

[Virgil]

I too am reading the Aeneid this year. Happy to participate in the forum.

I'll be glad to discuss anything you wish on the Aenied Bart. Just feel free to stop back to this thread. If I miss your posts, just drop me a note in my profile page. And welcome to lit net. Hope you enjoy it. :)

[patrickb.palmer]

are you guys still reading "the Aeneid"? i have enjoyed reading the comments about the previous five books and would like to hear what everyone has to say on the rest. is it a new thread somewhere?

[Virgil]

I can discuss it with you. I actually read the final six books last month. It was just a little tedious to keep this thread up. But feel free to discuss whatever you wish. The work is realtively fresh and on my mental fingertips. :)

[patrickb.palmer]

well, i really enjoy hearing what everyone says, but some questions are, where is Aeneas in book IX? and also, do you think that when Virgil repeatedly calls Aeneas "pious Aeneas" he is being sarcastic? i mean, he had the emperor looking over his shoulder and this was Rome's "founding narrative." so did Virgil really think that Aeneas was pious or courageous or just appeasing the Roman elite? what do you think about the Fates and Jove? who serves who? look forward to discussing.

[Laocoon]

Hi I'm sorry to be joining so late in the game but don't worry I have all ready read the Aeneid twice in Latin class.
So Patrick (if you don't mind me calling you Patrick) to give what I believe is a plausible answer to your question I would have to say that Virgil genuinely thought Aeneas was pious and admired him very much. I base this on the whole idea that this was not like some book report he wrote this was a major work of enormous density and to be able to just lie through your teeth and like it for more than 1000 lines alone is hard enough.
The fates and Jove is a good question but the way you stated the question I don't like because Jove does have power over the out come of things hence all the head nodding he does and the supplication he gets, but take this power he has with a grain of salt. The power that Jove has he does not exorcise beyond the decrees of fate because the role of fate is not to impose a destiny on us (at least for the Romans) it is to tell us what will bring the best outcome. For more proof look at the word for fate in Latin fato from the word farri which literally means to say or to decree fato is the future tense.
For a better illustration of how the Romans would interpret fate read the Fagle's translation of the death of Sarpaedon in the Iliad. This shows fate to be more like the common denominator of what is best for all.
By the way it is pronounced lay-AWK-oo-on not lau-COON

[Virgil]

well, i really enjoy hearing what everyone says, but some questions are, where is Aeneas in book IX? and also, do you think that when Virgil repeatedly calls Aeneas "pious Aeneas" he is being sarcastic? i mean, he had the emperor looking over his shoulder and this was Rome's "founding narrative." so did Virgil really think that Aeneas was pious or courageous or just appeasing the Roman elite? what do you think about the Fates and Jove? who serves who? look forward to discussing.

Absolutely not sarcasm as to "pius Aeneas."

[zeldalola]

so, eve adler has a fascinating book on "virgil's empire" and gives a very political reading.
i haven't read it all, but the idea I like from her is that Virgil is responding to Lucretius' De Rerum Natura- an explanation of epicureanism but using an epic form that people can recognize and relate to.
epicureanism- quark is probably up on this, but denies the existence of gods, or at least of gods who meddle in everyday human affairs. when we die, we break up into smaller parts- "atoms" and that life is more random than people care to think
Lucretius thinks he can turn everyday men into "philosophers" with his epic, but seems to have given little thought to what the outcome of this might be.
virgil responds (acc to adler) by writing a greater epic, because Virgil knows that while Lucretius may be right, that people need a reason for restraint and decorum. that most people won't be "philosophers" in the truest sense (and thus not understand why they need to control/curb their baser instincts/impluses- only thinking, hey- no gods, no punishment) and therefore need more simple guidelines for living and more fiery justice imagined in the heavens.
False dreams: virgil knows that his tale of the underworld is untrue but nonetheless extremely necessary for culture and civilization. Rome has been through over a century of civil wars and Virgil wants to refound rome as stable and promoting life. (not constant power grabs and self aggrandizement)

adler's argument made fantastic sense to me.
about the sybil and sex: seems like Apollo is IN her. not just her voice. So, yes- there are womb implications in the cave as well as echoes (sorry) of :
plato's cave
Joseph Campbell and others argue the freudian/jungian cave/subconscious/id connection
and it's a womb of sorts out of which Aeneas is reborn a roman. (i know you were getting there... someone said it earlier)

enough for my first post in this thread. hah. i'm on book 6 right now and it has to be the best.

[zeldalola]

question: why have a second death (one after Palinaurus) emerge unexpectedly in the underworld? (misenus) and because he challenges the gods to a trumpet contest? and yet ANOTHER burial. counting the funeral pyres in the Aeneid could be a thesis in itself; there are SO many.
Misenus and Palinaurus go together somehow, and it's always more than a framing device- even if i can't figure it all out.
In book 6, you think the death polluting would be Palinaurus, but then Misenus out of nowhere. ?? thoughts?

[zeldalola]

Absolutely not sarcasm as to "pius Aeneas."

i wonder the same thing. i mean HOW many times did gods or prophets or dreams tell him to go to Latium/tiber/Italy? In book 3- every stop told him of his mission. Seems A is a little hardheaded at times? I'm sure there's a sophisticated reason for it. I just haven't found a critic with whom I totally agree on this issue.

jove and fates. in the Iliad, Jove/Zeus can mess with some details, but the fates have already sketched the big picture and items that Zeus can't change.
In the Aeneid, seems like Jove is the primary agent of Fate. or is FATE itself.

[Poetry Princess]

Do you think this is Virgil's way of claiming free will?

[Charles Darnay]

For me, one of the most interesting things about the Aeneid is "the two Virgils" - often called the "private" and "public." The public Virgil was required to write this epic that glorified Augustus by tracing his linage back to the Trojan Wars. This Virgil is the one who spurs Aeneas on to Rome to fulfill his destiny (as represented by Jove). We can only guess as to the nature of the "private" Virgil, but there are instances where things are not as great as they seem. The two main points that come to mind are
1. The fact that Aeneas exits the underworld through the Gate of Ivory and not the Gate of Horn
2. The very end, the un-heroic nature which Virgil leaves off the story.

So the struggle between the gods pushing Aeneas to Rome and he not always wanting to follow their guidence parallels the struggle between the two Virgils - or in a more general sense, that struggle between duty and desire.

[zeldalola]

PP- I think free will definitely exists as a concept in Virgil, but Aeneas' free will only gets him into trouble. When Aeneas is leaving Carthage, Dido confronts him. He responds that if he were doing anything of his free will, he would be dead with all the Trojan... or behaving as a traditional glory seeking hero would.

Aeneas' fate and the gods dog Aeneas for the first 6 books up until his visit to the underworld. In these books Aeneas is confused and reluctant; he makes many mistakes.

Once out of the underworld, he seems to have a better understanding of what is expected of him and seems more willing/proactive.

I haven't thought too much about "free will" in the context of the Aeneid because it seems a more Christianity oriented discussion and Virgil is pre Christian era.

I don't think any Greek or Roman would deny the existence of free will, they would argue that going against fate or the will of the gods will cause trouble. More of an excessive pride, piety issue.

You were asking this in regard to the gate of false dreams? Can you say more about what you had in mind? (These are only my opinions. I'm an intemediate Virgil student (no latin) at best.)



C.D. I agree, these aspects are what distinguish Virgil from the Homeric copy cat that many readers suspect him to be, and what finally make the Aeneid enjoyable and complex.

These aspects can also make the Aeneid soooooooo frustrating. If you read Lee Fratantuono's companion to the Aeneid, he focuses a lot on the counter currents and how Aeneas makes so many mistakes- he's like a bumbling fool. It's fascinating but I got very confused before I began to get a little unconfused.... :)

[Charles Darnay]

I like your distinction of pre and post-Underworld Aeneas. I would have to read the latter half again to decide if I can fully agree with that view (it has been some time.)

[Poetry Princess]

Traditionally, critics have divided the Aeneid in two sections, the Iliad half and the earlier Odyssey half. The two Virgils seem to be related to the distinction. However, it is obvious that the two fold structure breaks down at times. Virgil's point seems to be that fate was never mint to be easy.