Showing posts with label Book II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Book II. Show all posts

Friday, September 19, 2008

What to do when your head's on fire

You might not think it particularly likely that your head will spontaneously catch fire, but it happens more often than you might think- at least in Latin literature. Just look at the following passages:

cum subitum dictuque oritur mirabile monstrum.
namque manus inter maestorumque ora parentum
ecce levis summo de vertice visus Iuli
fundere lumen apex, tactuque innoxia mollis
lambere flamma comas et circum tempora pasci.
nos pavidi trepidare metu crinemque flagrantem
excutere et sanctos restinguere fontibus ignis.


Suddenly there was a great miracle. At the very moment when we were both holding Iulus and he was there between our sorrowing faces, look, a light began to stream from the top of the pointed cap he was wearing and the flame seemed to lick his soft hair and feed round his temples without harming him. We took fright and rushed to beat out his flaming hair and quench the holy fire with water.
Aeneid II.680-686


praeterea, castis adolet dum altaria taedis,
et iuxta genitorem astat Lauinia virgo,
visa (nefas) longis comprendere crinibus ignem
atque omnem ornatum flamma crepitante cremari,
regalisque accensa comas, accensa coronam
insignem gemmis; tum fumida lumine fulvo
involui ac totis Volcanum spargere tectis.


What's more, when Lavinia was standing by her father's side tending the altar with her chaste torches, another fearful sight was seen. Her long hair caught fire and all its adornment was crackling in the flames. The princess's hair was blazing, her crown with all its lovely jewels was blazing, and soon she was wrapped in smoke and yellow glare, and scattering fire all over the palace.
Aeneid VII.71-77


Eo tempore in regia prodigium visu euentuque mirabile fuit. Puero dormienti, cui Servio Tullio fuit nomen, caput arsisse ferunt multorum in conspectu; plurimo igitur clamore inde ad tantae rei miraculum orto excitos reges, et cum quidam familiarium aquam ad restinguendum ferret, ab regina retentum, sedatoque eam tumultu moveri vetuisse puerum donec sua sponte experrectus esset; mox cum somno et flammam abisse.


In the palace about that time there occurred a very odd thing, which was to have remarkable consequences. A little boy named Servius Tullius was lying asleep, when his head burst into flames. Many people saw it happen. The noise and excitement caused by such an extraordinary event came to the ears of the king and queen, and brought them hurrying to the spot. A servant ran for water and was about to throw it on the flames, when the queen stopped him, declaring, as soon as she could make herself heard, that the boy must on no account be disturbed, but allowed to sleep till he awoke of his own accord. A few minutes later he opened his eyes, and the fire went out.
Livy I.39


In fact, having your head catch fire is not so bad (Michael Jackson aside). For Iulus, Lavinia and Servius Tullius it was actually a sign of the gods' favour towards them. Through the sign of fire they confirm Iulus' destiny to grow up to be a great king of Italy, Lavinia's destiny to marry the foreign hero Aeneas and Servius Tullius' destiny to become king of Rome.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Aeneid part IV- A Tragic Loss

Aeneid II.776-784
"quid tantum insano iuvat indulgere dolori,
o dulcis coniunx? non haec sine numine divum
eveniunt; nec te comitem hinc portare Creusam
fas, aut ille sinit superi regnator Olympi.
longa tibi exsilia et vastum maris aequor arandum,
et terram Hesperiam venies, ubi Lydius arva
inter opima virum leni fluit agmine Thybris.
illic res laetae regnumque et regia coniunx
parta tibi; lacrimas dilectae pelle Creusae."

"O dear husband, why does it please you so much to indulge this mad grief? These things do not happen without the will of the gods; it was not right for you to carry your companion Creusa from here, nor does the ruler of Olympus above allow it. There is in store for you a long exile and the vast plain of the sea to be ploughed, before you come to land of Hesperia, where the Lydian Tiber flows in a gentle stream, amidst the fertile fields of men. There a happy fate awaits you, and a kingdom, and a royal bride; stop your tears for your beloved Creusa."


As Aeneas reaches the safety of the hills outside Troy with his father and young son, he suddenly notices that his wife, Creusa, is no longer with him. He rushes impetuously back to the burning city to try to find her, but to no avail. Finally her ghost appears to him in this passage, and reminds him of the destiny which awaits him in Italy (‘the land of Hesperia’). Creusa’s death at this point is a necessary plot device for Virgil. Not only does it allow him to emphasise Aeneas' destiny, but he also needs to get Creusa out of the way fairly quickly so that he can introduce the relationship between Aeneas and Dido. It is interesting that when Aeneas visits the underworld (book VI) he meets the ghost of Dido in a highly emotional scene, and is reunited with his dead father (more on this later), but nowhere is Creusa mentioned.

We also see again in this passage an important aspect of pietas. Aeneas’ desperate search for his wife amid the destruction of Troy is bravely heroic, and possibly even romantic, but that is not how Creusa describes it- she calls it an insano dolori- a mad grief. The pius thing for Aeneas to do in this situation is to recognise the will of the gods (as Creusa urges Aeneas to do), and to get on with the destiny that lies before him, not giving in to the pain he feels. This seems a little heartless, but it is a very Roman idea, and one found often in Stoic philosophy, which held that it was possible to overcome the discord of the outside world and find peace within oneself, by mastering one’s passions and emotions.

Aeneid part III- The End of an Era

Aeneid II.3-17

infandum, regina, iubes renovare dolorem,
Troianas ut opes et lamentabile regnum
eruerint Danai, quaeque ipse miserrima vidi
et quorum pars magna fui. quis talia fando
Myrmidonum Dolopumve aut duri miles Ulixi
temperet a lacrimis? et iam nox umida caelo
praecipitat suadentque cadentia sidera somnos.
sed si tantus amor casus cognoscere nostros
et breviter Troiae supremum audire laborem,

quamquam animus meminisse horret luctuque refugit,
incipiam. fracti bello fatisque repulsi
ductores Danaum tot iam labentibus annis
instar montis equum divina Palladis arte
aedificant, sectaque intexunt abiete costas;
votum pro reditu simulant; ea fama vagatur.
“Unspeakable, O Queen, is the grief you order me to renew, how the Greeks destroyed the wealth of Troy and that mournful kingdom- I myself saw these most wretched things, and was a large part of them. Which soldier of the Myrmidons or the Dolopians or of cruel Ulysses would refrain from tears in the telling of such things? And now the dewy night rushes from the sky, and the falling stars urge sleep. But if you have such a great desire to learn of our misfortunes, and to hear briefly of the final suffering of Troy- although my mind shudders and recoils from the grief- I shall begin. Broken by war, and driven back by the fates, the leaders of the Greeks, with so many years now slipping away, build with the divine skill of Minerva, a horse the size of a mountain, and weave its ribs from planks of fir-wood; they pretend it is an offering to the gods for their safe return; this is the rumour which spreads.”


Having been shipwrecked on the coast of Africa, Aeneas and his men end up in Carthage, where Queen Dido welcomes them kindly. She has heard of the fame and sufferings of the Trojans and over a lavish banquet held in their honour (during which she begins to fall for Aeneas) she asks him to tell the story of the treachery of the Greeks, the sufferings of his people, and his own journey since leaving Troy. Aeneas obliges, and books II and III of the Aeneid are Aeneas’ recounting of the fall of Troy (book II) and his wanderings around the Mediterranean in search of a new homeland for his people (book III).

Aeneas’ narration of the destruction of Troy is an emotionally intense tale, full of pathos and drawing from elements of Greek tragedy. But it is more than that. As we have seen before, the progression from Troy to Rome is an important theme for Virgil, especially in the character of Aeneas. Aeneas’ journey from Troy can be seen as his journey away from the old model of heroism, towards a new and better ideal, characterised by pietas. Thus the city of Troy itself stands for the out-dated values of the heroic age, and its destruction is an important moment; the passing of the old is necessary so that something greater- Rome- may arise. Significantly the destruction of Troy in the second book of the first half of Virgil’s poem is balanced by Aeneas' visit to the future site of Rome in the second book of the second half of the poem (book VIII). Where book II laments the passing of the old world, book VIII celebrates the coming of the new.

In book III, on his journey round the Mediterranean, Aeneas meets Helenus, a son of Priam and survivor of the destruction of Troy, who does not seem to understand this principle. Helenus is living in the past, and has tried to recreate the city of Troy with “a citadel modelled on great Pergamum and a dried up river they called the Xanthus”. Helenus does not seem to understand that the destruction of Troy is in fact its judgement too. For Virgil, Troy was destroyed not simply because the Greeks were too clever, but because its time had passed and something new was necessary. Aeneas' task is not to resurrect a new Troy in Italy (as Helenus has tried to do) but to establish a new city, based on new ideals. As Juno says in book XII “Troy has fallen. Let it lie…