Thursday, September 10, 2020

Rhetorical Devices in Eclogue II

My initial readings led me to believe that there weren’t many rhetorical devices in Eclogue II. Perhaps my assumptions based on the commentary, which noted that Eclogue II was likely the first of the Eclogues to be written, misled me. If this was one of Vergil’s earliest poems, then it might make sense that there were fewer rhetorical devices employed. After observing how many lines of Eclogue II were nearly synchystic or chiastic (compared to what seemed to be a greater abundance of such in Eclogue I), I was convinced of my supposition and attended class.

The class discussion revealed a critical point I had failed to observe: Eclogue II is a monologue by a character who thinks of himself as a great poet but whom Vergil portrays as a mediocre one. After that discussion, it occurred to me that this is a wonderful conceit to employ for the less experienced poet to practice his craft while both acknowledging and distancing himself from his own deficiencies. Now appreciating more fully the cleverness of Vergil, I will share one section that caught my attention in particular.

Inappropriate Comparison

In lines 63–65 of Eclogue II, Corydon strings together a series of comparisons.

torva leaena lupum sequitur, lupus ipse capellam,
florentem cytisum sequitur lasciva capella,
te Corydon, o Alexi
(LCL 63, p. 34)

The first two lines of this passage exhibit mesodiplosis of sequitur, with sequitur elided from the second clause in the first line. The two lines together look very much like a tricolon, with the three clauses repeating the same idea in three different ways. The pattern is broken by the part of the third line quoted above, which also exhibits elision of sequitur. This pseudo-tricolon, perhaps, is Vergil’s attempt at demonstrating the mediocre skill of Corydon.

Still, there is a nicely balanced pattern in the unelided followed by elided sequitur clauses. There is also an inversion of word order: the first two clauses place the subject first, then the direct object, but the last two clauses place the direct object first, then the subject.

As Prof. Malamud noted in class, the comparison being made seems inappropriate in wooing an object of affection, given how the previous examples are of predators chasing their prey. Perhaps the pattern of progressively more gentle predators is meant to soften the comparison. In any case, it is interesting to consider whether Vergil calculated to put the exuberant expression in the mouth of Corydon so that if the technique were received poorly, it could be excused as the saying of the unrefined lover, but that if the technique were received approvingly, it could be credited to Vergil’s talent. Presumably, some aspect of this comparison was effective, since Vergil employs the hunting metaphor in Aen. 4.68–74 to describe the relationship between Dido (the wounded deer) and Aeneas (the unknowing hunter).

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

Food in the First Eclogue

 

           There are two places I would like to draw attention to in Eclogue 1 where food is referenced. The first occurs in line 35 “pinguis et ingratae premeretur caseus urbi (and rich cheese pressed for the ungrateful town)” and the second occurs in line 82 “et pressi copia lactis (and an abundance of pressed milk (i.e. cheese)” (Lewis and Short even cite line 82 in their definition of “premo” as an example: “pressum lac,” i. e. cheeseVerg. E. 1, 82.” I find these two lines significant because it seems the speaker (Tityrus both times) is contrasting the cheese making process used by those adhering to a simplistic lifestyle akin to the Golden Age with the cheese making process used to sell to city-dwellers.

            In book one of the Metamorphosis, Ovid describes the Golden Age as a time when humans didn’t have to worry about war, farming, or travel and food was abundant and ready-grown (“Contented with food that grew without cultivation, they collected mountain strawberries and the fruit of the strawberry tree, wild cherries, blackberries clinging to the tough brambles, and acorns fallen from Jupiter’s spreading oak-tree” (Translated by A.S. Kline)). Besides cheese, the other mentions of food in Eclogue 1 are of fruit or nuts which need little to no preparation and therefore resemble the Golden Age diet.

            When I first read Eclogue 1 I wondered about the different vocabulary used to describe what is essentially the same thing: cheese. While I’m usually pretty comfortable categorizing any potential issue in Latin poetry as “metrical reasons”, it seemed more likely in this case that there was another reason behind the different phrases, leading me to search for how to make cheese in ancient Rome. For the methods of cheese production, I turned to book 7 of Columella’s De Re Rustica in which he goes off on a cheese making tangent in between his discussions of goat diseases (and how to cure them!) and pigs. Columella explains two of the ways to make cheese. The first takes over nine days and makes a cheese that can even be sold across the sea. The second is prepared with less care and is made to be eaten within a few days (essentially as soon as the curds and whey separate, you pour the mixture into a cheese mold, the whey drains out and the curds, after adding salt and letting it dry a bit, are ready to eat). Upon reading Columella and contextualizing his description within Eclogue 1, it seems clear that Tityrus is also referring to two different types of cheese production and is perhaps associating them with two distinct lifestyles. On the one hand, there is the non-Golden Age life where Tityrus, under the yoke of Galatea, expended great energy and saw no returns, while on the other hand, there is the Golden Age lifestyle Tityrus now lives, carefree and happy, teaching the woods to echo fair Amaryllis (who it seems saved Tityrus from becoming a real curd-mugeon), and able to offer Meliboeus part of his idyllic meal. 

 

Below find 7.8-9 of Columella, On Agriculture from the Loeb (Translated by E. S. ForsterEdward H. HeffnerLoeb Classical Library 407. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1954.) I have bolded the most relevant parts in both the Latin and English.

 

Casei quoque faciendi non erit omittenda cura, utique longinquis regionibus, ubi mulctram8 devehere non expedit. Is porro si tenui liquore conficitur, quam celerrime vendendus est, dum adhuc viridis succum retinet: si pingui et opimo, longiorem patitur9 custodiam. Sed lacte fieri debet sincero et quam recentissimo. Nam requietum vel aqua mixtum10 celeriter acorem concipit. Id plerumque cogi agni aut haedi coagulo; quamvis possit et agrestis11 cardui12 flore conduci, et seminibus cneci, nec minus ficulneo lacte, quod emittit arbor, si 2eius virentem saucies corticem. Verum optimus caseus est, qui exiguum medicaminis habet. Minimum autem coagulum1 recipit sinum lactis argentei pondus denarii.2 Nec dubium quin fici ramulis 3glaciatus caseus iucundissime sapiat. Sed mulctra,3 cum est repleta lacte, non sine tepore aliquo debet esse. Nec tamen admovenda est flammis, ut quibusdam placet, sed haud procul igne constituenda, et confestim cum concrevit liquor, in fiscellas aut in calathos vel formas transferendus est. Nam maxime refert primo quoque tempore serum percolari et a 4concreta materia separari. Quam ob causam rustici nec patiuntur quidem sua sponte pigro humore defluere, sed cum paulo solidior caseus factus est, pondera superponunt, quibus exprimatur serum: deinde ut formis aut calathis exemptus4 est, opaco ac frigido loco, ne possit vitiari: quamvis mundissimis tabulis componitur, aspergitur tritis salibus, ut exudet acidum liquorem: atque ubi duratus est, vehementius premitur, ut conspissetur. Et rursus torrido sale contingitur, rursusque ponderibus condensatur. 5Hoc cum per dies novem factum est, aqua dulci abluitur,5 et sub umbra cratibus in hoc factis6 ita ordinatur, ne alter alterum caseus contingat, et ut modice siccetur: deinde, quo tenerior permaneat, clauso neque ventis obnoxio loco stipatur per complura tabulata. Sic neque1 fistulosus neque salsus neque aridus provenit. Quorum vitiorum primum solet accidere, si parum pressus; secundum, si nimio 6sale imbutus: tertium,2 si sole exustus est. Hoc genus casei potest etiam trans maria permitti. Nam is, qui recens intra paucos dies absumi debet, leviore cura conficitur. Quippe fiscellis exemptus in salem muriamque3 demittitur, et mox in sole paulum siccatur. Nonnulli antequam pecus numellis induant,4 virides pineas nuces in mulctram demittunt, et mox super eas emulgent, nec separant, nisi cum transmiserint5 in formas coactam materiam. Ipsos quidam virides conterunt nucleos, et lacti permiscent, 7atque ita congelant. Sunt qui thymum contritum cribroque colatum cum lacte cogant. Similiter qualiscunque velis saporis efficere possis, adiecto quod elegeris condimento. Illa vero notissima est ratio faciendi casei, quem dicimus manu6 pressum.7 Namque is paulum gelatus8 in mulctra dum9 est tepefacta,10 rescinditur et fervente aqua perfusus vel manu figuratur,11 vel buxeis formis exprimitur. Est etiam non ingrati saporis muria perduratus, atque ita malini ligni vel culmi fumo coloratus. Sed iam redeamus ad originem.

It will be necessary too not to neglect the task of cheese-making, especially in distant parts of the country, where it is not convenient to take milk to the market in pails. Further, if the cheese is made of a thin consistency, it must be sold as quickly as possible while it is still fresh and retains its moisture; if, however, it is of a rich and thick consistency, it bears being kept for a longer period. Cheese should be made of pure milk which is as fresh as possible, for if it is left to stand or mixed with water, it quickly turns sour. It should usually be curdled with rennet obtained from a lamb or a kid, though it can also be coagulated with the flower of the wild thistle or the seeds of the safflower,[ aCarthamus tinctorius]. and equally well with the liquid which flows from a fig-tree if you make an incision in the bark while it is still green. The best cheese, however,2 is that which contains only a very small quantity of any drug. The least amount of rennet that a pail of milk requires weighs a silver denarius; and there is no doubt that cheese which has been solidified by means of small shoots from a fig-tree has a very pleasant flavour. A pail when it has been filled with milk3 should always be kept at some degree of heat; it should not, however, be brought into contact with the flames, as some people think it proper to do, but should be put to stand not far from the fire, and, when the liquid has thickened, it should immediately be transferred to wicker vessels or baskets or moulds; for it is of the utmost importance that the whey should percolate as quickly as possible and become separated from the solid matter. For this reason the country-folk4 do not even allow the whey to drain away slowly of its own accord, but, as soon as the cheese has become somewhat more solid, they place weights on the top of it, so that the whey may be pressed out; then, when the cheese has been taken out of the moulds or baskets, it is placed in a cool, shady place, that it may not go bad, and, although it is placed on very clean boards, it is sprinkled with pounded salt, so that it may exude the acid liquid; and, when it has hardened, it is still more violently compressed, so that it may become more compact; and then it is again treated with parched salt and again compressed by means of weights.5 When this has been done for nine days it is washed with fresh water. Then the cheeses are set in rows on wickerwork trays made for the purpose under the shade in such a manner that one does not touch another, and that they become moderately dry; then, that the cheese may remain the more tender, it is closely packed on several shelves in an enclosed place which is not exposed to the winds. Under these conditions it does not become full of holes or salty or dry, the first of these bad conditions being generally due to too little pressure, the second to its being over-salted, and the third to its being scorched by the sun. This kind of cheese can even be6 exported beyond the sea. Cheese which is to be eaten within a few days while still fresh, is prepared with less trouble; for it is taken out of the wickerbaskets and dipped into salt and brine and then dried a little in the sun. Some people, before they put the shackles[aI.e. to restrain them while they are being milked.] on the she-goats, drop green pinecones into the pail and then milk the she-goats over them and only remove them when they have transferred the curdled milk into the moulds. Some crush the green pine-kernels by themselves and mix them with the milk and curdle it in this way. Others7 allow thyme which has been crushed and strained through a sieve to coagulate with the milk; similarly, you can give the cheese any flavour you like by adding any seasoning which you choose. The method of making what we call “hand-pressed” cheese is the best-known of all: when the milk is slightly congealed in the pail and still warm, it is broken up and hot water is poured over it, and then it is either shaped by hand or else pressed into box-wood moulds. Cheese also which is hardened in brine and then coloured with the smoke of apple-tree wood or stubble has a not unpleasant flavour. But let us now return to the point from which we digressed[bThe author regards this chapter on cheese-making as a digression from his real subject, which is a description of the smaller domestic animals.]

 

Sunday, September 6, 2020

The setting and landscape of Eclogue 1

 I joked in class about how the setting in Eclogue 1 reminded me of The Simpsons.  Just as Springfield is not Capital City, the urbs of Meliboeus and Tityrus is not Rome.  Such distancing is seen when Tityrus refers to the city as “urbem quam dicunt Romam,” (19) using a relative clause with a third person subject.  Rather, we are set in an Italian countryside troubled by Octavian’s land confiscation (I refer you to Bruce’s post).  We are not, however, in Mantua (Vergil’s birthplace).  Coleman points out that the beech trees and hills (montibus) found in the poem are not to be found in Mantua.  It is a humble environment.  Tityrus’ farm has rocky soils and reedy marshes.  Meliboeus’ cottage is thatched with sod.

There are additional locations specified in the poem which serve as a contrast to the relatively shabby locale of the two herdsmen.  The Hyblaean bees evoke Theocritus’ idyllic Sicily.  Vergil demonstrates an absurdity by having a Parthian drink from the Arar river (modern Saône in France and a German drink from the Tigris.  Germani of Vergil’s day occupied the region of what is today France, so that the two groups would have swapped places.  Meliboeus suggests that they must depart to either Libya, to the exotic Oaxes River (location unknown), or to remote Britain.  (Coleman).

We also see how humans interact with different environments.  Tityrus is first found lying in a grove.  It is shady and he treats it as a leisure spot.  Such a location is to be contrasted with the urbs  Tityrus calls it ‘ingratae.’  It is cold and unfeeling.  The cheese is hard-pressed; the animals go to slaughter.  Some human manipulation of the land is good, though.  Cultivated land reflects the industriousness of the farmer.  But the wanton soldier will bring such lands to ruin.

Historical allusions and setting in Eclogue 1

     The main historical allusion within the first Eclogue is, according to our commentary, the word iuvenum, which Virgil uses in reference to Octavian.  According to Appian, there was a period of insubordination where veterans under Octavian's authority grew discontent with the slow disbursement of land.  There were insufficient funds at the time to properly purchase the land that the state was supposed to distribute to her veterans.  While Octavian attempted to find a solution to this problem, the soldiers decided to arrive at their own solution by seizing the land themselves, rather than wait for the cities.  As could be expected, these seizures were neither proper nor fairly adjudicated.  

    The occupants of the seized land and neighboring territory themselves grew discontent, as the soldiers pushed themselves further and committed other outrages beside the seizures.  Octavian saw no real solution to the problem, because there were no funds to compensate those who were facing this injustice, but opposing the soldiers too strongly would have greater political ramifications.  So instead, he attempted to appease the soldiers with other methods until he could properly distribute the land.

    For a time, Octavian's attempts to appease them with other offerings only seemed to exacerbate the issue, and the soldiers continued more boldly, culminating to the point that the they became aggressive with Octavian himself.  Finally, they killed a spokesperson for Octavian while he was on his way to formally distribute the land, and when he gave them the land in spite of this fact, they were moved to remorse, praising Octavian and correcting themselves.

Saturday, September 5, 2020

Vergilian Pastoral (Eclogue 1)

Eclogue 1 begins, in good pastoral fashion, with a pastoral name. Vergil chooses Tityrus. What is untypical is the role Vergil gives him. Traditionally a low character in Theocritus, Tityrus is included in the music-making only once, in Id. 7.72 (Coleman). Vergil gives him preeminence in his opening eclogue, but his humble origins are not abandoned. A lingering symbol of the herdsman’s status seems to be his use of the avena, the oaten pipe, which, thanks to Vergil, would later become associated with pastoral (Coleman). avena is Meliboeus’ word and the first reference to Tityrus’ instrument. If it is to be taken literally, the image of Tityrus blowing on slender oat grass would be comical; but so simplistic a scene that it might still be charming, not unlike the image of a barefooted rustic reclining on a riverbank and chewing on a blade of grass. It is, on the other hand, also possible that avena is being used metonymically, referring to only the reed of a larger instrument.

In Tityrus’ own words, he is playing on a rustic reed-pipe (ludere…calamo…agresti). This would be more practical for playing music than a blade of oat grass, and the Greek loan word calamus (κάλαμος) makes for a more convincing evocation of Greek rustic music. But if the reed is a more serious instrument than the oat, the way that Tityrus uses it seems less so. Meliboeus claims that he is pondering (meditaris) the woodland Muse - one of many Lucretian sentiments in Vergil (cf. Lucr. 4.589 fistula silvestrem ne cesset fundere musam) - with the oat stalk, but Tityrus insists he is playing (ludere) on the reed pipe. The two pairs (meditaris avena; ludere…calamo) contrast both on their own and with each other. To meditate is to think with serious reflection. To do so on so flimsy an instrument as an avena seems absurd. But to “play” on a calamus seems to be a mirrored juxtaposition of this. The verb meditari can mean “to practice” as well, but it probably shows both of its meanings here; so the contrast is maintained. The two pairs might reflect each speaker's respective situations: Tityrus can relax and “play” his pipe in otia, which Meliboeus desperately desires to do again. But he cannot because he has been forced to give up his lands, and now he must wander like an exsul. Meliboeus understands that he will no longer sing songs (carmina nulla canam). Tityrus is the new singer. 

There are indications of the poem's own self-awareness. In line 5 especially, Meliboeus seems to point out the poem itself: formosam resonare doces Amaryllida silvas. Tityrus, the singer of this song, is teaching the woods to echo fair Amaryllis. In this way, it is a sort of elegiac pastoral: both the (former) beloved and the woods inspire the song (cf. Coleman’s note); and the singer is said to teach the woods to sing back. The connection between nature and poetry – at least pastoral poetry – is made clear. You cannot have one without the other. It is why Meliboeus can no longer sing. The city – the disruption of nature, in one sense – has intruded on Meliboeus. It has, quite literally, displaced him, and so has robbed him of his ability either to meditate or to play on the pipe. On the other hand, it is only by compromising with the city that Tityrus’ song is allowed to continue.

Friday, September 4, 2020

Do sheep have horns? Animals in Eclogue I


Detail from the Wall Painting of Polyphemus and Galatea in a Landscape, Imperial Villa at Boscotrecase, 1st century BCE, 187cm x 119cm, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 20.192.17

    I decided to title this blog post with my most recent google search: “do sheep have horns?”. I included a detail from a wall fresco that appears to show a hierarchical scale from top to bottom of sheep to goat (it doesn't), but I did not realize that not only do rams have horns, but there are species of sheep who do as well, be them ram or ewe. I must admit, my knowledge of the animal kingdom is...basic-- and basic is forgiving. I digress…      
   Theocritus sometimes incorporated a hierarchical scale of herdsman in his idylls, cowherds being the most prestigious, then shepherds, then goatherds. The earliest observation of this was noted by Donatus and it continues to be a contested topic of discussion among Virgilian scholars. Thus, my question: Does Virgil utilize this scale in his bucolics?
    In the first twenty lines of Eclogue I, we see Virgil making use of this hierarchical scale. Tityrus is established as not only a cowherd but a shepherd as well, whose flock is so prosperous that he is able to often produce a sacrifice to his beloved "god", Augustus. He is juxtaposed with Meliboeus, a goatherd, who faces displacement under the same system which Tityrus prospers.


namque erit ille mihi semper deus illius āram
saepe tener nostrīs ab ovīlibus imbuet agnus
ille meās errāre bovēs
...permīsit (10)

for that man will always be a god to me,
often, a delicate lamb from my sheepfold will stain his altar
that man/god allows my cows to to roam

...ēn ipse capellās
prōtinus aeger agō hanc etiam vix Tītyre dūcō
hīc inter dēnsās corylōs modo namque gemellōs

spem gregis, ā! silice in nūdā conīxa relīquit (15)

see, I myself, a sufferer, lead my goats onward yet this one, Tityrus, I barely lead
for,  here between dense hazel trees, just having given birth to twins, 
ah! the hope of the flock, she abandoned them on a bare rock.

    Here, the hierarchical scale of herdsmen not only reflects the social status of both Tiyrus and Meliboeus but also reflects a sort of emotional hierarchy where happiness and leisure correlate with the status of a cowherd/shepherd and sadness/turmoil with a goatherd. The animals themselves are paralleled to the emotional state of their herdsmen. While Tityrus’ cattle are roaming, his sheep thriving, and himself relaxing, Meliboeus is struck with a series of bad omens-- notably that of his she-goat abandoning twins, which in better circumstances would enrich his flock. Later we learn Melibeous, too, must abandon his flock. The emotional connection between herdsman and animal is repeated during Meliboeus' last speech:

īte meae, felix quondam pecus, īte capellae           (74)
Go, once happy flock, go my little goats

(Go, once happy Meliboeus, go!) 

    To end, I would like to completely abandon the subject of herdsman and sheep-goats and turn to the Hyblaean Bee mentioned in line 55. This may be considered a "shout out" to Theocritus, as these bees are local to Sicily. The name "Hyblaean" is either in reference to an ancient Sicilian king, an unknown city "Hybla", or a local goddess- but today the name is certainly associated with the south-eastern Hyblaean Mountain Range. As for the bee, there is a special type of bee found on Sicily; it has populated the area for thousands of years, and it is super cute; the black bee! Although it almost went extinct in the 70's/80's, some continue to populate the island. The black bee is more productive in extreme temperature changes and more docile than the average Italian honey bee and it usually produces a table honey with a vinegary quality.

Save the bees!

Rhetorical Devices in Eclogue I

Since it will of course make for an excessively long post to mention all of the rhetorical devices in Eclogue I, I will limit my remarks to the three I found most interesting.

The Happy Tityrus

The most extensive rhetorical device I noticed is found in lines 46--58 (line numbers based on the 1916 edition of LCL 63), where Meliboeus proclaims Tityrus' happy state. The device might be called "extended parallelized anaphora".

Meliboeus' words here divide nicely into two parallel but unequal sections. Both begin with fortunate senex (lines 46 and 51). The lines immediately succeeding these beginnings start with et (lines 47 and 52). The last two lines of these sections end with negative indicators: non ... | nec (lines 49--50) and nec ... | nec (lines 57--58). Throughout both sections, the future tense is used exclusively for all main verbs (this futurity actually continues until line 72).

The shorter section prophesies ease in raising flocks. The longer section prophesies enjoyment of comfort. That the two ideas are presented in so similar a pattern suggests that the two are part of one bigger idea, namely, the happy state of Tityrus.

Two Contrasts, One Idea

Another two lines of note are to be found in line 22 and line 62. In both lines, a combination of anaphora and elision work together to express two seemingly contrasting ideas but which are used together to express one sentiment.

Line 22 (sic canibus catulos similes, sic matribus haedos) exhibits anaphora in its repetition of sic (and, in fact, line 23 also contains a sic to round out a tricolon), and similes is elided from the second sic clause. This reliance of both sic clauses on the central similes draws attention to the synchysis exhibited by this line (the pattern is ABCDABC). As we find out in line 23 (where noram has been enjambed), Tityrus used the pattern of puppies being like dogs and [goat] kids being like [goat] mothers to think about how big things compare with little things. Line 22 acts as concrete examples of how he came to think in this way.

Line 62 (aut Ararim Parthus bibet aut Germania Tigrim,) exhibits anaphora (polysyndeton, more specifically) in its repetition of aut, and bibet is elided from the second aut clause. Again, the reliance of both aut clauses on the central bibet draws attention to the peculiar word order (ABCDACB), which is chiastic if we ignore the conjunctions (BCDCB). Looking at the context of this line, we find Tityrus claiming that he will not forget the kind master who has guaranteed that his lands will not be confiscated. To emphasize the lasting impression the master has made on his mind, Tityrus has claimed that the people from the far East would drink from a river in the far West and vice-versa before he forgets the face of the kind master.

Triple Metaphor

The final lines I wish to comment upon are lines 24--25 (verum haec tantum alias inter caput extulit urbes, | quantum lenta solent inter viburna cupressi.). It continues from the earlier discussion on comparing smaller things to bigger things. Tityrus admits that his method of comparison was inadequate to the task of comparing Rome to other cities and so launches into metaphor to more adequately express the difference.

Line 24 compares Rome to other cities, as though raising its head above the others. Assuming the original sense of caput referring exclusively to the human head, we see a personification of the cities, with Rome being the tallest (or at least standing on top of the highest point).

Line 25 continues the metaphor, comparing Rome to the cypress tree. The other cities are compared with wayfaring trees.

Through elision, line 25 also depicts the cypress raising its caput higher than the other wayfaring tress. This personification might be more narrowly termed a pathetic fallacy, since nature is taking on human characteristics.

Thus, cities are like humans, cities are like trees, and trees are like humans. All three ideas are used to convey the same idea: that Rome surpasses all other cities.