The Aeneid Discussion Group

[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.

[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.

[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? 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...

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.

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? 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 work

This 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.

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.

[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.

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.