Showing posts with label hexameter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hexameter. Show all posts

Sunday, September 13, 2020

The Uncouth Caesura, or Just Greek? Some Metrical Considerations of Eclogue 2

R. D. Williams points out verses in Eclogue 2 that show peculiar rhythms, and here I want to look at some of these in a bit more detail, specifically in reference to the the main caesura (sense pause) of each. As far as I can tell, the rhythmically peculiar lines are 4, 6, 7, 24 (pointed out by Prof. Malamud in class), 53, and 65. 


* I will be using the ‘/’ to denote caesurae, ‘--’ for long syllables, ‘u’ for short syllables, ‘x’ for anceps, ‘|’ for feet.


**For reference, I am using The Meters of Greek and Latin Poetry, by Halporn, Ostwald, and Rosenmeyer (1994). 


Both Greek and Latin epic hexameter (based on the verses of Homer), as we know, share many of the same qualities (and quantities). Any given line consists of six metrical units of either dactyls (-- u u) or spondees (-- --), where any two shorts can be replaced by one long (but not vice versa). The last unit of the line is always disyllabic (-- x).


Before I note any differences, we should first note the rhythm—and I am speaking here of ‘rhythm’ in a narrow sense, as determined by the location of the main caesura in a line—that is most common to both Greek and Latin: where the caesura appears after the third longum (i.e, the first syllable of the third foot). To get a sense of this, we only need to look at two of the most famous lines in epic poetry, Iliad 1.1 and Aeneid 1.1.:


Μῆνιν ἄειδε, θεὰ, / Πηληιάδεω Ἀχιλῆος     

Arma virumque cano / Troiae qui primus ab oris


In both opening lines, the caesura appears in its typical position: after the third longum. Homer pauses after the vocative ‘goddess’; Vergil after ‘I sing’. The pauses effectively set apart “Sing wrath, goddess” from “of Peleus’ son Achilles”; and “I sing of arms and a man” from “who first from the shores of Troy.” Such pauses can be used to great effect in any given line.


The lines in question of Eclogue 2 are ‘unusual’ in the sense that they depart from this scheme—not towards an alternative scheme that is common in Latin hexameter, but towards one that is much more common in Greek. Lines 4, 6, 7, 24, 53, and 65 all shift the pause one syllable farther, after the first brevis (short) of the third foot. So, for instance, line 4:


adsidue veniebat. / ibi haec incondita solus


The typical spot for the caesura would be at venie/bat, but that can’t be the case here because it is the middle of a word. So in lines 6-7:


O crudelis Alexi, / nihil mea carmina curas?

Nil nostri miserere? / mori me denique cogis?


Here too, a typical caesura would have cut up Alexi and miserere, and so the pause is moved to the end of the word (where it usually appears). These lines, each with its caesura after the third short, might remind you of another very famous line, Odyssey 1.1.:


Ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, Μοῦσα, / πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ


Here, there is a pause after Μοῦσα. But since this placement is typical for Greek but not Latin, it could easily lead one to wonder why Vergil has done it—and so many times in one poem (see also vv. 24, 53, 65). Does it convey uncouthness or Greekness? Is it meant to convey either one of these, or could they be signs of a young Vergil? It makes me think of Nozomu’s comments on whether or not Vergil could be ‘trying out’ certain things in the mouth of a poetaster such as Corydon. Interesting that five of the six lines occur during Corydon’s song.


It is, of course, very likely that Vergil did this deliberately, for reasons of poetics. Line 24, mentioned in class, seems to be one of these:


            Amphion Dircaeus / in Actaeo Aracyntho.


Since the line’s heaviness was mentioned in class, I have scanned it here:


            --      --|--  --|  -- u / u|  --  -- |-- u u| --   --.

            Amphion Dircaeus in Actaeo Aracyntho.        (Note the hiatus in the fifth foot.)


As Prof. Malamud said, all of these words refer to Greek names. Three of the lines with this type of caesura occur in direct addresses (or questions) to Alexis (vv. 6-7, 65), who has, notably, a Greek name, and is the subject of Corydon’s incondita. What to make of Vergil connecting Greek caesurae with Greek subjects? The whole poem, after all, is Greek in a sense. Should we even care about these specific lines? Again, the frequency of them and their contexts, in my mind, make them worthy of further consideration.