The Characters of Eclogue I

 

Meliboeus: This young shepherd is one of the people affected negatively by land reform in the age of Augustus. In Eclogue 1, he complains to his older counterpart about his woes. He must abandon his livelihood because of this redistribution, and I would honestly not be happy about that either. His anxiety about the future separates him from Tityrus, and by the end, Meliboeus seems to be fed up with the other’s laissez-faire behavior. After receiving an offer to stay over at Tityrus’, we don’t know whether or not Meliboeus accepts.

 

Etymology: Meliboea is the name of a town in Thessaly, which happened to be the birthplace of Philoctetes. Servius tells us that Meliboeus is short for “μέλει αυτο̂ι το̂ν βοο̂ν” or he has care of the cattle, which is odd because Meliboeus is primarily a goat herd. Fun fact: Meliboeus is also the name for the genus for jewel beetles. Neat! An anglicized version of the name was used in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.

 

Idylls: We do not see Meliboeus in Theocritus’ work or any Greek pastoral poetry even though it is a name with Greek origins.

 

Other Eclogues: However, we do find the shepherd again in Eclogue 3, mentioned briefly, and in Eclogue 7 as the narrator.

 

Tityrus: Tityrus is an old cowherd that has recently come into good fortune. He has gained freedom from servitude and has been allowed to keep his land. I think sitting against a tree playing music sounds like a great way to celebrate. His ever-grateful tone throughout the first Eclogue is a direct contrast to the worried one of Meliboeus. All of the misfortunes that he speaks of are in the past, and Tityrus happily looks forward to the leisure of the future.

 

Etymology: His name most likely comes from the Greek Τίτυρος possibly meaning “he-goat” or “reed/pipe.” In Theocritus, Τίτυρος has been synonymous with Silenus and the satyrs. Later on in the Medieval period, tityrus was used to name a sheep-like beast similar to the satyr.

 

Idylls: Tityrus has made an appearance before as a more subordinate herdsman in the Idylls 3.2-4, and is mentioned again in 7.74 as a singer.

 

Eclogues: In Vergil, he is mentioned three more times outside Eclogue 1 as one who is receiving orders (3.20 & 96, 5.12, 9.23). This also ties in to his former role as a slave in the first poem.

 

Amaryllis: As Tityrus’ current lover, Amaryllis is the muse of his current musical habits. She is notably called beautiful by Meliboeus in the first couple lines, and it seems that the love is reciprocated as Meliboeus mentions later that she was mournful when Tityrus was gone.

 

Etymology: Coming from the Greek word αμαρύσσειν meaning “to sparkle,” the name Amaryllis is still present today. However, anyone named that now is most likely named after the flower. Even a minor planet was named 1085 Amaryllis.

 

Idylls: Theocritus uses this name as well in Idylls 4.36 and the entirety of Idylls 3 as a girl refusing a man’s pursuits.

 

Eclogues: Amaryllis is also a popular name for Vergil because he uses it again in 2.14, 3.81, and 9.22. In Eclogues 2 and 3, her name is quickly followed by the word ira, indicating that she was not to be desired. Again, in Eclogue 8.77 she is mentioned as the sorceress’ attendant.

 

Deus (Augustus): Although not named, I wanted to mention the importance of Augustus (Octavian at the time) being referred to as a god by Tityrus after the former had granted him freedom and land. The willingness of Tityrus to abandon the immortal gods for a mortal one is perhaps an indication of Vergil’s feelings forwards the new political environment.

 

Libertas: She is a Roman goddess and, similar to the role of Cupid, is also the personification of Liberty. It sounds like Tityrus is referring to the abstract concept here instead of talking about her intercession.

 

Galatea: The ex-lover of Tityrus does not receive a favourable characterization. When Tityrus was dating her, he felt even more like a slave than he already was with “no hope of freedom…and no concern of saving money.”

 

Etymology: In Greek, Galatea means “she who is milk white.” Perhaps the most popular name of the bunch, Galatea’s most famous role, as Pygmalion’s statue in Greek mythology, earned her several renditions in art, science and music. For example, Galatea is also a moon that orbits Neptune.

 

Idylls: In Greek pastoral poetry, Galatea was present as a sea nymph in Idylls 6.10-11 and11.13-14. Ovid uses this version of her as well in his Metamorphoses as the romantic counterpart of Acis and the object of affection for Polyphemus the cyclops.

 

Eclogues: In Vergil Galatea appears again twice as a sea nymph in 7.37 and 9.39, pictured as a seemingly unattainable romance.

Light and Dark, Shade and Open Spaces: notes on Eclogues Book 1

The beginnings of shadow play between the light and dark is a prominent component in the Eclogues. From what I could translate, there were heavy imagery mentions of shade, and how it painted a cooling and relaxing atmosphere. I also took notice of certain words that suggested open spaces and wild feelings (if I, too, can be poetic). For example, the idea of the heavens or sky in line 18 made me think of a bright day or light being touched and shrouded by a tree canopy, and how this shows an image of nature covering our speakers organically. I also noticed that shade could be seen as a gateway to emotion. It either brings happiness with Tityrus. He is a lucky, old man for being able to relax under the shade - when he can finally stop working and retire!

As for a simple commentary of Eclogues 1, the use of light and dark, shadows, etc. give a sense of passing time. We start in the beginning with a sense of, possibly, a finished working day of traveling. A moment of reprieve, if you will. The sense of light starts to diminish away under the trees and from the caves, and head into nightfall. The great shadow, tall as a mountain, moves across the city homes as the poem ends. Could this be a foreboding feeling of dread in what was once a relaxing space? Things are slow, cool, and heavy in the shadows.

For this book, and as my first assignment post, I decided to make a list of sentences or lines that mention shadows, darkness, light, and so on. I added my own commentary and beliefs on what they mean in a, hopefully, broader and poetic context:

tu patulae recubans sub tegmine fagi silvestrem tenui Musam meditaris avena (1.1-2)

Reclining under a beech tree certainly gives a relaxed feeling to the beginning of this poem.

tu, Tityre, lentus in umbra formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas. (1.4-5)

The first official mention of shade, the shadow of the trees gives a sense of slowed movements given by our speakers.

saepe malum hoc nobis, si mens non laeva fuisset, de caelo tactas memini praedicere 

quercus.(1.16)

The sky is covered and touched with trees! This might be a stretch, but the image of trees becoming the sky struck me as something pleasant.

fortunate senex, hic inter flumina nota et fontis sacros frigus captabis opacum (1.51)

How lucky and happy it is to be an old man! You can lie in the cold/cooling shade, near your familiar and sacred surroundings.

maioresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae. (1.83)

Falling mountainous shadows as the poem closes….perhaps this is an image of the evening turning into the night?

If I miss any, please let me know! I look forward to your comments and other posts.

Welcome! This is a blog about the flora, fauna, people, and landscapes of Vergil's Italy.

Audience

Having somewhat embarrassed myself last class with an admission of not being thrilled by the content of the Georgics, I've been thinking quite a bit about who read the Georgics and why. I took a second look at Nobility and Rustication, and while we seemed generally frustrated with the author's conclusion, I think one of his secondary points has much to offer. 

Consider, from the conclusion on consoling former city-dwellers, "Of course, it is all a fantasy, a fiction, and perhaps Vergil's reader understood that it was false. Yet a fiction that is repeated often enough begins to acquire a truth of its own, particularly when poetry adds its spell, and belief in the myth brings relief from pain".  I'm not 100% sold on the idea that the "spell" of poetry or the belief in myth would ease a reader's anxiety, but I am interested in the highlighted sense of "fantasy" and "fiction". 

Not only is real country life very much unlike the ideal and pleasant existence often described, but there are also a number of contradictions running throughout the Eclogues and Georgics. Amor (correct me if I am mistaken) is an urban goddess, and a particularly jealous one at that. The integration of love and the worship of country gods, although often paired together, may not actually be fundamentally compatible. For a more concrete example, at different times and at different places, shade is either a favorable circumstance or a harmful one. The excessive praise of both Caesar and the simple country worker also seem to be at odds. 

What I find most interesting, however, is how smoothly Virgil weaves his contradictions together, adapting whatever model suits his present needs. The fantastical marriages of love and country, pleasure and hard living, etc, create a sort of lullaby. With the reader somewhat lulled into this dreamworld, I wonder if Virgil's political agenda may have a greater effect. 

Internal contradictions are characteristic of a number of Latin authors such as Catullus, Tibullus, Seneca, etc, but I find none of their works as seemingly docile and "kosher" as the Georgics. Virgil's poetry is wrapped in traditional form and content, and it does have a sort of soothing flow. Without getting too deep into Inception-esque conspiracies, might we say that Virgil's poetry "loosens" the reader's tight code of rationality, thus creating a more flexible space for his own agenda? 

On Existential Bees and KR's "Mora"

Patrick Stewart raises major questions about B's, no doubt building on the angst of Monty Python:
Eric the Half a Bee.

Callimachus and a Few Thoughts on Georgics I

Callimachus was a third century author. Originally from Cyrene, he eventually lived in Alexandria as a scholar at the library there. His Aetia is an elegiac poem of four books. Literally, aetia means “causes.” Callimachus’ work focuses on explaining the origins of cities and various customs of interest in the Mediterranean world. He often structures his work so that he asks a question for which he provides an explanation, a pattern similar to the questions Vergil asks in the Georgics.

With the thoughts of Callimachus in mind while translating the selections from the first book of the Georgics, the myths Vergil references and the etiological meanings behind some of them seemed an interesting choice for the opening of the poem, fittingly including beginnings in his beginning.

The end of the book takes a tone similar to the Eclogues, though openly darker. Where the Eclogues hint at the harm war inflicts on the country, the Georgics fully states it. The contrast between the divine country-side at the start of the book and the war-plagued one at the end shows a marked progression through Georgics I.

One specific point of interest for me was lines 126-127. When I thought it was odd to write ne…fas rather than simply using nefas, I noticed that the ne and fas both begin their lines. It shows the same interlinear notion as the acrostic. Although this is not as interesting as the acrostic, it is a another clever arrangement by Vergil.

Our man Vergil seems uncommonly fixated on arboreal reproduction!  Let's be clear about what's going on:

Natural Reproduction
1.  Plants that grow spontaneously. 
V. cites 4 examples.  Two are described as growing in fields.  These are both low-growing, flowering shrubs.
siler  Well, lots of debate about this one!  I'll go with Parker's identification of this as , known in English as staveacre, lice bane, or lousewort. It was said to have been a cure for the very unpleasant disease phthiriasis [φθειρίασις < φθείρ ‘louse’]), a condition in which lice lay their eggs between the eyelashes.  Sulla is said to have suffered from this disease.

Delphinium staphisagria

sparteum iunceum

 genista-- Spanish broom, Sparteum iunceum.







Two are described as living by rivers.  These are both tall trees, familiar to us from the Eclogues:  the poplar (populus) and the willow (salicta).  Whether deliberately or not,  Vergil is telling an untruth here, as these plants come from seeds rather than from spontaneous generation.


2.  Plants that grow from seeds.  Vergil gives two examples here, the chestnut (castanea) and the oak (aesculus), the tree that grows in the groves of Jupiter and that the Greeks believed was oracular (oracle at Dodona).  The nuts of both trees are elements of the Golden Age/ primitive diet.

3. Plants that grow from shoots that grow up from the mother trunk:  V. cites the (sour) cherry (cerasa), the bay laurel (Laurus), and the elm (ulmus). 

Agricultural methods of propagation requiring human labor:
1.  Rooting cuttings from the mother plant-- Vergil's language here is surprisingly violent--
hic plantas tenero abscindens de corpore matrum/ deposuit sulcis, cutting the shoots from the mothers' tender bodies, he placed them in furrows.

2. Tip-layering!
That is what these difficult to understand lines are about:
silvarumque aliae pressos propagine arcus
exspectant et viva sua plantaria terra:











 3.  Grafting-- here is a video about grafting We did not read all of the section on grafting, but note that of the 6 grafts Vergil proposes, 2 are possible (i.e., mightproduce fruit) and 4 are impossible.  For a graft to be successful, the stock and scion must be of the same family.  According to Thomas, even the two that are possible are unlikely; grafts are generally between species of the same genus.

Possible:  apple on pear tree (33)
Impossible:  cornel on plum (34)
Impossible:  walnut on arbutus 69
Impossible: plane and apple (70)
Impossible: pear and elm (71-2)
Possible (perhaps); chestnut and beech (71)
 Thomas notes that Vergil "did realize the impossibility of his choices, for he places such grafts in the area of the marvel (thauma) when in Ecl. 8.53-53, in a series of adynata, he writes: nunc ut ovis ultro fugiat lupus, aurea durae/ mala ferant quercus, narcisso floreat alnus."

Again, Thomas:  "The discussion of impracticable or impossible grafts constitutes the first of a number of deliberate falsehoods in Georgics 2...the ultimate effect of these falsehoods is to pose certain questions about the 'success' which is generally perceived in this book."