Saturday, April 4, 2009

Book 4: The Marriage


First, a few quick observations:
l. 156: At puer Ascanius is also used at 1.267 (and I suspect elsewhere); it seems to be a formulaic phrase that fits smoothly at the beginning of a line.

l. 157-8: there is a nice parallelism between the separation of spumantem and aprum and that of fulvum and leonem; whether there is any particular purpose behind it, I am not sure.

l. 160: magno misceri murmure (the blog title!), as we discussed in class, is directly repeated from 1.124 and is very close to magno cum murmure montis from 1.55; clearly Vergil loves this particular bit of alliteration.  At 1.124, it is used of the storm stirred up by Aeolus at Juno's request, suggesting that it is particularly a storm phrase.  This may be a stretch, but it may be specific even to Juno's storms (i.e. ones unfavorable to the Trojans); the storm in book 5 that puts out the fire on the Trojan ships does not repeat the phrase.  Another thought - is this magnus murmur foreshadowing the passage about Fama that is coming up - after all, what is Fama but a great murmuring/muttering?

The following lines contain more repeated phrases, in this case from Juno's speech telling Venus what she will do, only a few lines earlier (4.115-127).  Commixta grandine nimbus changes only the case of nimbus, while the entire sentence Speluncam...deveniunt is repeated exactly.  It seems to emphasize Juno's preparation, planning, and control (things happen literally exactly as she plans); I find this interesting because 1) Juno's beloved Dido is in the exact opposite frame of mind and 2) Juno's plans nevertheless fail completely.

The major issue of debate in the next several lines is how valid this "marriage" is; I am not going to go into a great deal of detail here, but some quick thoughts: 1) in the end, Vergil pretty clearly comes down against Dido in line 172 in particular - "she calls (vocat) it marriage, and she covers her fault (culpam) with this name."  That seems to make it pretty clear that this is not a binding, official marriage.  At the same time, one could argue that the setting - Mother Earth and Juno as witnesses, lightning for wedding torches, etc. - actually makes it more legitimate, rather than less legitimate as it is not exactly a public, official setting.  On a side note, I believe ululo is commonly used of funereal mourning, which of course would foreshadow the disastrous result of the relationship, adding a subtle element to the plainer statement of 169-70.

Thoughts, questions, reactions?

Monday, February 23, 2009

Book 2, lines 250-267

We return, after an extended hiatus...

This passage begins the description of the fall of Troy; it is certainly significant, and appropriate, of course, that the first word is vertitur, which is followed soon after by involvens.  Nor should we pass over the other verb of line 250, ruit.  None of these words refers to Troy or its situation; rather, they are all simply part of the description of the change from day into night.  It is clear, though, that Vergil has carefully chosen them because they foreshadow Troy's fate so well - verto and volvo are verbs that denote change, and this is the night that completely changes Troy's fortunes.  Ruo is a verb that very frequently has connections with destruction (it is, of course, related to ruina and the English noun 'ruin').  Are there other significant words or phrases throughout the rest of this passage?  For example, what do we make of line 255, a Tenedo tacitae per amica silentia lunae, with its repetition of the idea of silence?

Friday, November 21, 2008

Book 1, lines 198-222: Aeneas rallies his men

First of all, some interesting aspects of the language:
Aeneas' speech contains three different instances of anaphora (O...O, 198-9; vos...vos, 200-1; per...per, 204); clearly there is an effect that Vergil is looking to create through all of this repetition of key initial words - what might it be?  Is Aeneas using these rhetorical devices to hammer his point home to his men - emphasizing these words to get their attention and pull them out of their rut?  Is there another, perhaps more specific explanation?
I suspect that Vergil chooses to use both anastrophe and polysyndeton in l. 218 very deliberately as well (spemque metumque inter dubii) in order to emphasize this point of uncertainty - the two words are particularly linked because of the double use of -que, and the delay of dubii (and to a lesser extent inter) somewhat mimics that uncertainty.
We discussed as well the variatio in lines 220-222; by switching the direct object from casum to crudelia fata to fortemque Gyan fortemque Cloanthum, Vergil heightens the depth of this lament, making it increasingly personal.

It is interesting, within Aeneas' speech, to see the emphasis on the Trojans' previous struggles.  Obviously, this is the angle of Aeneas' speech - think of all we've been through, this isn't so bad, and the ending will be worth it; still, he hits this theme six different times in ten lines, which seems to be more than really necessary.*  Vergil is surely giving us a hint about the next two books, particularly Book 3, when Aeneas will recount these troubles; he has grabbed our attention by beginning in medias res, and now he is drawing us in with hints of what we will soon read about.
Considering, then, that part of Vergil's purpose within this speech is to draw the reader into the story, we might ask how effective Aeneas actually is within the speech.  Is it a good rhetorical strategy to talk so much about their past struggles?  The major cause of worry, and what must be lowering morale the most, is the uncertainty about the other thirteen Trojan ships, yet Aeneas never directly addresses this - what do we make of this?


*The six examples:
1) neque enim ignari sumus ante malorum (198)
2) O passi graviora (199)
3) Vos et Scyllaeam rabiem penitusque sonantis/ accestis scopulos (200-201)
4) vos et Cyclopia saxa/ experti (201-202)
5) Per varios casus (204)
6) per tot discrimina rerum (204)

Monday, November 17, 2008

Book 10: Jupiter in the Council of the Gods

We return after a short break in which fall trimester comments consumed any free time. As promised in the last post, we'll begin with a discussion of Jupiter's role in the council of the gods in Book 10 before returning, in successive posts, to Book 1 and closer readings of the text.


Jupiter's first speech seems wholly ineffective - he tells the gods and goddesses to accept the treaty that has been agreed upon. Yet Venus and Juno immediately launch into their complaints, blatantly ignoring what Jupiter has just said. In his final speech, although he does get the last word and make the ultimate decision, it is a choice to do essentially nothing; in particular, he has backed off his previous stance that the fighting must stop because a treaty has been agreed upon. It is an interesting combination of strength and weakness - it certainly stops the bickering of the gods, at least visibly at this point and the language is fairly strong and to the point. At the same time, the position itself is a weak one - Jupiter is backing off his previous stance and refusing to make a decision in favor of either Juno or Venus, as if he's afraid of angering either one.

It is perhaps possible to see this as part of a cunning plan on Jupiter's part to resolve this quarrel among the gods with the minimum of conflict. First of all, we know coming into Book 7 that the Trojans will be fighting a major war with the Latins; it has been prophesied several times, including by Jupiter to Venus in Book 1 (bellum ingens geret Italia, populosque ferocis contundet - 'he will wage a huge war in Italy, and he will crush ferocious peoples,' 1.263-4). When Jupiter makes his speech, he is undoubtedly aware of his previous prophecy, and he should realize that this war must happen, if the fates that he has spoken earlier are to "find their way" (10.113). So why does he push for peace in his first speech of this book? It may be that Jupiter, in the interest of maintaining some peace within the gods (and specifically with Juno), does not want to appear to decide the outcome of this war - although we have seen how closely Jupiter is related to fata (and one can argue that fata is what Jupiter has spoken - fatus est), here Jupiter distances himself from fata so that he does not incur the wrath or complaints of Juno. This, along with the fact that he grants Juno permission later in the book to save Turnus, puts him in a better position to negotiate with her in Book 12 so that she will come to buy into the Trojan victory and future Roman greatness.
Of course, it's also possible I'm overanalyzing this, and Vergil has conveniently 'forgotten' Jupiter's earlier speech in the interest of making this section more interesting. Thoughts?

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Book 10: The Council of the Gods

Homework this weekend was to read Book 10 in English, so this post will be somewhat different than the past few; I've decided to write about a scene that I find one of the most fascinating in the entire Aeneid - the council of the gods (lines 1-117). This post will focus on Juno and Venus, and I plan on addressing Jupiter in the following post.

A couple questions come to mind in looking at these opposing speeches - who is convincing (or meant to be convincing)? Are Venus and Juno accurate and honest in their claims (it certainly would not be surprising if they weren't - Roman politicians, whether speaking in the Senate, to the people, or in the law courts, generally do not feel the greatest attachment to the truth)?

Venus begins by claiming that the Trojans are about to be destroyed while Aeneas is far away and unaware; this is technically true - Aeneas at this moment is unaware of the pressure the Trojan camp is under, but war had already been declared when he left to seek allies, and his instructions to the Trojans to remain within their walls surely shows that he anticipates this situation. Juno essentially makes this point in lines 68-71 - she has not put Aeneas and the Trojans in this particular situation. Venus goes on to bring up the prophecies that support the Trojans' settling in Italy, while very effectively playing the pity card ('go ahead, kill them, just let me save dear little Ascanius' - you can almost imagine her looking at the other gods with sad, puppy-dog eyes). Juno counters by claiming that the Trojans have grossly misinterpreted the fates, driven on solely by Cassandra's mad words. This, though, is demonstrably not true - we have heard of the Trojans' destiny several times from different prophetic sources, not least of which is Jupiter himself in Book 1 (lines 257-296).

Juno adds two more points in her speech, first claiming that Aeneas is the one who has chosen to fight, and that she has nothing to do with it. This is a fairly bold lie - after all, it is Allecto, on Juno's instructions, who has stirred up Turnus and the Latins to war; Aeneas is clearly hopeful of settling there peacefully when he first lands (hence the embassy and gift exchange).  Her second point is that this entire situation is Venus' fault because she caused the Trojan War by helping Paris steal Helen of Troy.  While this is certainly looking fairly far back in time, and Aeneas and his men have little to do with this original crime, the point is generally valid, and perhaps this is what seems to win Juno at least some support from the other gods, who variously mumble assent or dissent.

The final verdict is a difficult one (Jupiter certainly seems to have a tough time); Venus, at least in my mind, comes out slightly ahead, but she is also arguing from a position of strength.  It is interesting to see, though, the extent to which these goddesses misconstrue or flat out lie in their arguments.  No rhetorical punches are pulled, to say the least.  There are certainly periods of Roman history when arguments of this style are commonplace - for example, the rivalry of the politicians/gang leaders Milo and Clodius in the 50s B.C. or, for that matter, between Cicero and Clodius.  It is an interesting question to wonder whether such debates are still present under Augustus; if they were, he might certainly play the same arbiter role as Jupiter, though he may have frowned upon such disputes as compromising the unity and peace of Rome.

I have meandered through these speeches somewhat, but I'm curious to know what others think of them.  Is our understanding of Venus and/or Juno changed or enhanced particularly by these speeches?  Do the speeches themselves have particularly interesting features?  More to come soon on Jupiter's response...

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Book 1, lines 180-197: Aeneas hunts


As last time, we'll lead off with a couple of minor but delectable examples of Vergil playing with language and meaning.  First, one that I just noticed from the previous passage - in lines 160-161, Vergil has placed omnis and the word it modifies, unda, particularly far apart (there are 7 words between them) - they are broken apart, split up, just as the waves themselves are broken and split by the island.  Moving on to this passage, Vergil may be going for a similar effect in line 186 by putting longum at the start of the clause and agmen at the end of it - in doing so, he mimics the length of the column of deer.  A couple lines before, in 184, we experience a very brief moment of hope - Navem in conspectu, '[he sees] a ship in sight' - before it is crushed by the addition of nullam modifying navem.

We turn now to the passage as a whole.  This is the first time that we have seen Aeneas acting as a hero (his actions and speech during the storm are hardly heroic).  In many ways, his actions here are anticipating his speech that immediately follows - while he is surely disappointed not to see the ships of any of his comrades, upon spying the deer, he immediately represses that disappointment and takes advantage of the situation to provide for his men.  As we will see a few lines later, his speech is meant to fortify his men mentally, just as the deer he has killed has fortified them physically.  Looking ahead to line 209, right after his speech, Vergil states that Aeneas premit altum corde dolorem ('presses down his deep sorrow in his heart'), and although it is unsaid, the same must be the case in this passage.

Another question that we might raise about this passage (one that I will leave open for comments) is whether it is significant that Aeneas' first act upon landing in Libya is an act of violence - killing these deer (and beginning with the three leaders).  It is interesting to note that Dido is later compared to a deer struck by an arrow (conjecta cerva sagitta, 4.69) and that the initial cause of fighting once the Trojans land in Latium is the killing, by Ascanius, of a sacred deer.  I'll also note that the Trojans once before have immediately begun killing animals after landing in a foreign land, and as a result they were attacked and then cursed by the Harpies.  Are their meaningful connections to be made with any of these other scenes, or are they just coincidence?  Can Aeneas' actions here be understood on a symbolic level as well?

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Book 1, lines 156-179: the Trojans land in Libya

Before getting into a more general discussion of this passage, I just wanted to note a couple of interesting features of the language in this passage. First of all, line 164 has a particularly apt caesura, as it falls after silent - one can imagine someone reading it out loud to linger on that pause slightly longer than normal to emphasize the silence of the sea. Secondly, we discussed in class how the alliteration of the letter s in line 161 (sinus scindit sese) might mimic the gently lapping waves in the bay (or, if you prefer to say them a bit more emphatically, one could argue they are more like the breaking of the waves against the protective island before they flow more gently into the inlet); likewise, the combined alliteration of c and s in lines 174 and 175 (silici scintillam excudit Achates/susceptique ignem foliis atque arida circum) surely is meant to recall the sound of Achates striking his flint against iron to start the fire.

I find the description of the place where Aeneas and his men land quite interesting. In lines 159-161, Vergil begins to describe a peaceful, safe harbor; this fits in perfectly with the mood of the last few lines, in which Neptune's majestic presence alone disperses the storm and calms the waves.  After such an act, the reader can expect the Trojans to get a brief respite from their sufferings, and at first this protected inlet seems like it will be a perfect place for them to catch their breath. In lines 162-166, however, that all changes. Now huge cliffs hang over them on all sides, complete with quivering woods, dark groves, and bristling shadows. The verbs Vergil uses, minantur and imminet, mean 'tower' or 'overhang,' but both can also mean 'threaten,' and certainly these images must be threatening to the weary Trojans. The cave is filled with hanging rocks, another potentially threatening image, and even the line aequora tuta silent reads more ominously within the context of the surrounding words.

Right after we read about the hanging rocks, though, the tone shifts again, and suddenly this is a cave with sweet waters and seats naturally formed from the rock - a home of nymphs.  It is a wild site, perhaps, but it is comforting nonetheless.  The following lines reinforce the theme - chains and anchors are unknown and unnecessary here - it is a place of nature, but above all it is a place of safety.

Why, then, does Vergil interject five lines of threatening imagery in the middle of this scene?  I'm not sure that I have a wholly satisfactory answer, but I'll toss out a couple of ideas.  First of all, Vergil may be placing the reader in the minds of the Trojans, describing the scene as they see it.  At first, they feel relief that the seas have calmed, but as the landscape around them appears, in their weary states everything seems more dangerous and mysterious.  Possibly, as they enter the cave, their eyes are first drawn to the hanging rocks before they begin to pick up the more comforting aspects within.  The overall impression, if we read the lines this way, is that the Trojans are feeling an almost indistinguishable jumble of hope and fear at this point.

Another way we might read the lines makes the scene representative of Libya as a whole and Carthage in particular.  Just as the inlet and cave are places of quiet and safety, so the Trojans' time in Carthage will be a time of rest, recovery, and overall safety.  Yet at the same time danger looms - they are in the territory of another people, one who will later be Rome's greatest enemy, and essentially at their mercy.  Both Aeneas and Venus will be very cautious in the Trojans' first encounter with Dido and the Carthaginians - Venus cloaks Aeneas in mist until it is clear that he is safe.  In book 4, we will have the disastrous end to Dido and Aeneas' love affair, and perhaps these foreboding woods are the first subtle hints of that scene.  Interestingly enough, when Dido's shade turns away from Aeneas in the Underworld, she retreats in nemus umbriferum ('into the shade-bearing grove,' 6.473), very similar to the nemus horrenti umbra of line 165.  Perhaps this is just coincidence, and groves are frequently described in this manner, but one might also draw an intriguing connection between the two scenes.

In any case, I'd love to hear what others think about these lines - does one of these explanations seem stronger?  Might both be in play somehow?  Might there be another explanation?