Perhaps, before jumping into Book Two, I should note that I’m starting with the Aeneid because it is such a foundational text for the rest of Western literature. Augustine, Aquinas, Dante, Milton, etc—all would be the poorer without Virgil’s masterwork. I think normally people embarking on an odyssey like this one (pun most definitely intended) probably start with the Iliad and Odyssey, and then traipse along through the Big Three (Socrates, Plato, Aristotle) before ever getting to the Roman poets. I think that the Aeneid acts as a kind of focus—a bottleneck of ideas—for all the works that have gone before. Since I’m familiar with the stories of the Iliad and the Odyssey and the philosophy of the Big Three (even though I’ve never actually READ all of them), I choose to begin with a sort of representative sample of the best of Western literature as a jumping-off place. I can go to the Iliad next, and then make up my mind where to travel after that.
So we left our hero at the feast Dido put on for him; he was about to tell the Carthaginians what happened during the war. He mentions the Myrmidons, Dolopians, and Ulysses’ soldiers (Odysseus), and says that even they would cry at what he had to relate, [7] thereby placing himself in the company of the greatest of all warriors, and also excusing himself if he has to cry. I know that the Myrmidons were Achilles’ men (thank you, Oliver Stone—or possibly Ridley Scott—Ah-Wolfgang Peterson), but I don’t know who the Dolopians are/were. Aha! For the first time we get to hear about the Trojan Horse! [15] (The one in Troy looked so dumb, but as I was mooning over Eric Bana as Hector the Tamer of Horses, I just couldn’t bring myself to care too much)
So Aeneas tells Dido how the Danaans (Greeks, apparently, but I don’t know how they got that name) hid in the belly of the beast. I wonder if that’s where the metaphor came from? The Greeks had gone and hid themselves on the isle of Tenedos, an anchorage for ships, probably near the coastline. Damn. Even then the Balkans and the Anatolians were duking it out for control of the Aegean Islands! ANYWAY—Aeneas tells Dido and the assembled feast that the Trojans had thought the Greeks were gone. So everyone parties like the rave scene in Matrix 2. However, Laocoon (who is he?) dashes down to spoil the party, and hollers that they’re all nuts, that Ulysses is a trickster, and that there are probably Achaeans in the horse. “I fear the Greeks, even when bringing gifts.” “timeo Danaos et dona ferentis.” So, it was Laocoon who said it! [49]
So Laocoon tosses a spear at the horse, but nothing happened other than a hollow thumping sound. Aeneas says that the gods prevented them from taking Laocoon seriously. Meanwhile, some Dardan shepherds (that must mean they lived closer to the Dardanelles than the location of Ilium—maybe—so that would be north of the city, I guess) were bringing an Argive youth back to Troy. The kid says to the assembled Trojans that Ulysses screwed over his dad, and in so doing, caused his dad’s death, and so the youth is resolved to betray the Greeks. This kid tells the Trojans that when the Greeks built the horse, the sky suddenly started clouding up, and some storms rolled in. When queried, the Oracle of Phoebus (the sun god, right?) tells the Greeks that because they slew a virgin as a sacrifice BEFORE coming to Ilium (a reference to Agamemnon killing his daughter, whats-her-name), an Argive blood sacrifice will be required before they can leave the shores of Troy. [119] The youth then tells the Trojans that he was the one chosen by the Oracle to be sacrificed for the Greeks. So the youth managed to escape, and is essentially claiming asylum in Troy in exchange for information. Aeneas says that Priam was moved by the youth’s pleas, and orders him unbound. Priam is kind of a sucker. Seriously. First with not blaming Helen for leaving her husband and bringing war to Troy, and now releasing a turncoat. Apparently, says the youth, the Greeks have pissed off Minerva (must remember to refer to them by their Latin names, no matter HOW much Xena: Warrior Princess is floating through my mind!) The kid says that the Greeks build the horse in tribute to Minerva, and as a gift to the Trojans to make up for their depredations. This kid has therefore established that the Trojan Horse is a sacred offering to the gods, and that the Trojans will be in SERIOUS trouble with Minerva if they mess with the horse.
An ill omen also seems to befall Troy at that point too, as Laocoon gets killed by a sea serpent—the Trojans believed that it was because he threw that spear into the side of the horse. [213] Cassandra the soothsayer(ess) is mentioned here as having also foretold doom, but she wasn’t believed by anyone.
Quel surprise.
Aeneas tells Dido that at this point, once everyone had gone to sleep, that the Myrmindons were sneaking up on the walls of Troy. Inside the horse were Ulysses, Thessandrus, Sthenelus, Acamas, Thoas, Neoptolemus, Machaon, Menelaus, and Epeus (Virgil says Epeus came up with the idea for the Horse [264]). They snuck out of the horse, slew the guard, and opened the gates to the Greek army.
Aeneas tells Dido that Hector appeared to him in a dream that night. Hector claims there’s no hope for Troy; he tells Aeneas to take Ilium’s treasures and go establish a “mighty city.” More of the coming Rome. Damn, but all these ghosts are prophetic. I wonder if the ghosts make time with Jupiter or something, since they all seem to know the future.
So, Aeneas wakes up in a sweat from his dream to find the city being sacked. Aeneas tells Dido about the terrible sack, and the night of hell the Trojans went through. As Aeneas is describing a counterattack he’d waged that night, he says “adspirat primo Fortuna labori.” [385] Fairclough translates it as “Fortune favors our first effort.” I wonder if this is where “Fortune favors the bold” comes from?
Aeneas then describes how Cassandra, Priam’s daughter, is being dragged by her hair from Minerva’s temple. Presumably this is where she gets raped. Aeneas tells Dido that they’d retreated to the palace. There could be found a secret passage where Andromache (Hector’s widow) had been known to bring little Astyanax (Hector’s son) to visit Grandpa Priam. Why she’d need to bring the king’s grandson to him secretly, I don’t know.
I think Neoptolemus is the one who rapes Cassandra, but I’m not sure.
Wow. This is some powerful imagery. As the Trojans are retreating into the palace (presumably towards Andromache’s secret passage), old King Priam has gotten himself up in his armor—I can just picture him in armor 40 years out of date, raising a shaking sword to defend his aged wife Hecuba—and sees his son Polites running towards him, away from Pyrrhus, a Greek. Right in front of Priam, Pyrrhus kills Priam’s son, and does it bloody. This is reminiscent of the moment that Priam had to confront Achilles after the madman killed Hector. I think this is the first moment this poem has really hit home for me. It’s easy to see the Trojan War as like the French and Indian War—something I really only know by name and a few stories, facts, and dates with a little Daniel Day-Lewis in buckskin and moccasins thrown in. This image of Priam watching ANOTHER one of his sons gratuitously slain right in front of his face as he’s helpless to stop it—I think I need a bourbon. Whew.
Priam yells at Pyrrhus, saying that even Achilles gave back the corpse of Hector and respected Priam’s rights as a father. Oh hell. Pyrrhus answers Priam by telling him in essence to go to Hades and complain to Pyrrhus’ father if Priam doesn’t like the way he’s being treated. Whereupon Pyrrhus chops off Priam’s head. Oof. I keep seeing Peter O’Toole doing that scene with tears running down his wrinkly face.
Aeneas says to Dido that though he watched all this and was filled with rage at Helen for bringing this about, his mother Venus appears and tells him to escape, to go find Creusa (apparently Aeneas’ WIFE, though not mentioned until now), Ascanius, and Anchises, and get the hell out of Troy. Venus informs Aeneas that it’s not Helen’s fault, nor even Paris’s fault, but that the gods themselves have decreed the fate of Troy, thereby neatly robbing Aeneas of his capacity and desire to get vengeance.
Venus tells Aeneas to GET OUT, and that she’ll eventually “set you safely on your father’s threshold.” [621] I think this is something of a reference to Jupiter as well as Anchises—Jupiter is the great patron god of Rome, right? I seem to remember a big temple of Jupiter in the “Rome” BBC/HBO show. Ooh. James Purefoy as Marcus Antonius. He’s got a GREAT…talent. He was SO hot as the Black Prince of Wales with that cross tattoo. Damn you, Joan, Fair Maid of Kent.
Back on it: Aeneas tells Dido he watched the final burning of Troy, and employs heroic metaphor here to do it. I don’t remember Virgil using heroic metaphor before now…though I know Homer uses a lot of it. He compares the fall of Troy to a mighty tree that is attacked by tiny woodsmen with axes, and finally comes tumbling down all at once. SO the Iliad.
Aeneas tells Dido that he finally reached his father, Anchises, and that Anchises refused to leave Troy even as it was burning down around him. Anchises is eventually persuaded by Creusa and by seeing a sign from Jupiter where Iulus (Ascanius) gets a tonge of fire on his head—such the flattery for his eventual namesake Julius Caesar. This is almost as bad as that smarmy “dedication” to Lorenzo di Medici that Machiavelli oozes out at the beginning of The Prince.
Aeneas ends up taking Anchises PIGGYBACK out of the city. That had to have been something. These guys really WERE heroes. So, Aeneas has collected his whole family (specifically noting that his wife was lagging behind). Aeneas tells Dido that Creusa was taken from the streets somehow—that Aeneas had had no idea where she went or what happened to her. Aeneas tells Dido that he actually went back into the burning city to seek out his lost wife (depending on whether or not Aeneas is already attracted to Dido, I can completely see him playing this up to get maximum sympathy).
Aeneas has been searching, calling out her name. In the smoking ruins, the ghost of Creusa appears to him (another spirit!). Creusa prophesies to him, saying that he shouldn’t grieve—he’s got too much to live for. He’s got to take a long trip, and a royal wife waits for him at the end of his journeys. Oddly, Creusa only mentions that he should take care of their son in passing. I find this to be a flaw. If she’s really the mother of a son, she should be pestering Aeneas to take care of the boy, where’s he going to go to school, make sure he gets enough sleep, etc, and the oh-so-happy news that he’ll get a wife of higher station than her probably would have waited until the end. [788]
Anyway, Aeneas, grieving his lost wife, goes back to the meeting place where he’s left his dad and son, and finds a bunch of pitiful refugees, just waiting for someone to tell them where to go and what to do. So, Aeneas tells Dido, he took the remnant, and sought the hills. I wonder if that’s where the phrase “to head for the hills” comes from?
That’s the end of Book 2. What horrifying images of warfare. The fires of war burn on a torch head as well as in a warhead. People still die.
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