Showing posts with label Trojan War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trojan War. Show all posts

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Virgil; The Aeneid, Book 2

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.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

Virgil; The Aeneid, Book 1

Some introductory notes: The translation I'm using is the revised H. R. Fairclough, found in vol. 63 of the Loeb Classical Library. It has the Latin on the left, and the English on the right. I LOVE these! The title clicks through to a site containing this exact text. I see that it has the first six books of the Aeneid, but seemingly not the last six, so I might switch over to the Project Gutenberg version for the link if this site has problems in the future. I will refer to line numbers in the Latin, since the English translation is oh-so-prosaic.

If I want to swear, I will. This is not Cliff's Notes. This is my personal interpretation of Virgil's poem, and when something reminds me of my life, or current events, or another book, or anything I feel like talking about, I will use it as a reference. This is for MY use, and if you like it, read it, and tell your friends. I will engage with people who have something to say about these texts, and I will occasionally place my open questions in bold text, meaning I don't know the answer to them, and I'd appreciate comments. If I'm asking a rhetorical question, I probably already know the answer, and if I don't, I probably don't care what you think, unless you are funny.

So, the Aeneid, Book 1. I'm given to understand that Virgil didn't finish the Aeneid, and wanted it burned after he died because it wasn't done yet. Thank the merciful heavens that Augustus Caesar was an interfering despotic literary gourmand. He forbade the burning of the text in opposition to Virgil's will. Crisis averted.

Virgil starts the whole thing off with the phrase "Arma virumque cano," meaning"Arms and the man I sing," which is a reference to the beginnings of both the Iliad and the Odyssey, in what I have to say is either brilliant writing, or a completely awful pun. The Iliad was about arms (battles), and the Odyssey about a man. The first thing I'm introduced to is the wrath of Juno at the Trojan remnant fleeing the broken towers of Ilium (Troy). Why IS Juno so mad at Aeneas? She was partial to the Greeks, I know, so since the Aeneid begins about twenty seconds after the sack of Troy, why would she be so upset? The Greeks won, man. Let it go.

Juno muses over the loss of so many Greeks, which might be why she's so pissed. I think it's intriguing that she mentions the Carthaginians at this point; the Phoenicians traversed the whole Mediterranean, making the Tyrians (Phoenicians in ethnic origin, so the progenitors of the modern Palestinians) who will settle Carthage go through some of the same experiences that the ancient Jews were going through at the time of Virgil's writing (resettlement by the Roman authorities, dispersal into a diaspora, etc.).

Ah so. Juno liked the Carthaginians, and knew that the ex-Trojans would be coming along to sack the city eventually (like hundreds of years later kind of eventually) during the Punic Wars. The implication is that Rome is the convergence of the efforts of all the Gods, when Juno starts talking about how Jupiter, Venus, and the others are conspiring against her to bring about the rise of the city of Rome and hence the destruction of her favorite children in Carthage.

Geez. It's possible I just have a sick mind, but we zero in on the heroes of our tale sailing the Mediterranean away from Troy, and they're "merrily plowing the foaming brine with brazen plow." [35] Sexual imagery, much? In Juno's mind, the Trojan remnant are raping the sea.

Hmm. So it was Minerva (Pallas Athena) who burned the Argive fleet because she was still angry at Paris over picking Venus (Aphrodite) as being the most beautiful.

So Juno (Hera) goes to talk to Aeolus, the king of the wind and of Aeolia, to get him to sink the Trojan fleet. She offers him Deiopea, the hottest of her seven Nymphs, and promises him really good sex for the rest of his life [72]. Ok. I'm thinking it's not me that has a sick mind at this point. I'm going to guess that if I think I'm seeing sexual imagery, it's probably because I'm seeing sexual imagery. Aeolus agrees, and sends the winds to sink the Trojans.

Orontes' ship is sunk (three ships are mentioned at this point). So is Ilioneus', son of Achates. Also in that ship were Abas and Aletes. At this point, Neptune gets pissed off at Juno and basically calls her a spoiled, entitled little wench. He's mad that Juno had anything to do with riling up the sea, since that's his province. Neptune calms the sea, and the Trojans head for the coast of Libya.

Ok, I guess there are seven ships, since once they've landed, Aeneas goes hunting with Achates, and kills seven stags "equal in number to his ships." [192]

He takes the beasties back to the shore--surely he had more help than just Achates--and gets his men sloshed on the wine that was fortuitously rescued from the ships. He tells his men that a better home waits for them in Latium where Troy will rise again. Kinda funny, since they're on the WRONG BLOODY SIDE OF THE MEDITERRANEAN. He's also scared and depressed when making these promises.

Now the men start mourning and eating. Orontes is now declared officially dead, as is Amycus, Lycus, Gyas, and Cloanthus. There seem to be elements of funereal sacrifices in this meal on the beach, as they "flay the hides from the ribs" and so forth for burning them over fires. [211]

At this point, Jupiter (Zeus) and Venus are floating about in the sky overhead, and Venus pleads for mercy for her pet Trojans (she still likes them from the Judgment of Paris). So Jupiter promises Venus that her children will find a home in Lavinium (the city Aeneas will found), and his son Ascanius (Iulus --could this be the forerunner of the Julii?) will found Alba Longa, an intermediate city-state between Lavinium and Rome. Jupiter also promises that Juno will come to love the Romans. Hmm. Jupiter says that the "House of Assaracus" will eventually rule. Who are they? Jupiter also now foretells the birth of Julius Caesar. [288] Who the heck are the Teucrians? Anyway, Jupiter intervenes to make the Phoenicians welcome Aeneas, especially Dido.

Aeneas is worried, though, and sets out exploring from the Libyan beach he's shipwrecked upon. He goes with Achates--and only Achates, this time; Virgil specifies--after hiding the fleet. He meets up with Venus in the form of a huntress in the woods, and Aeneas praises her beauty in terms very like those that Odysseus uses with Nausicaa, and probably for the same reasons. He wants to reassure this maiden that she isn't in any danger of being raped by Aeneas or Achates. Venus answers his queries about where they are by telling him that he's in the Punic realm, where Dido rules.

Damn. She really IS "unhappy" Dido. Her brother killed her original husband, Sychaeus. Fortunately, Dido filched Pygmalion's (her brother's) ready stash of gold, and took a fleet of dissidents to new Carthage. This is interesting. The refugees bought a "bull's hide" of land from the previous inhabitants. A bull's hide meant that they cut a bull's hide into VERY thin strips and encompassed as much land as they could with the strips. This might not be true--it might be an etymological muck-up. Phoenician for citadel = bosra; Greek for bull's hide = Beta upsilon rho sigma alpha

Hmm. When replying to Venus, Aeneas says he's looking for Italy, his "father's land." [380] In addition to being referential to "patria," the Roman word for "fatherland" in much the same way as the Russians have the "Rodina" or "motherland," this seems to me to be an attempt by Virgil to increase the historic claim to Italia.

Venus interrupts Aeneas as he's whining about how cold and hungry he is, and tells him to go to the queen's palace (why is this italicized?), and as she's turning away, Aeneas recognizes her as his mother. He wants to know why she won't just be straight with him. This is interesting--why WOULDN'T Aeneas suspect that a randomly helpful, stunningly beautiful goddess was his mother? OTOH, Venus is going back [415] to her temple on Paphos which smells fragrant and has flowers. Maybe she's only helping Aeneas because it amuses her to do so? She seems like a child with a new kitten.

So Aeneas goes to Carthage, where his fleet has been led by Venus and Jupiter, and sees the Carthaginians still in the process of building their citadel.

[446] "Sidonian Dido"? This must mean she's from the city of Sidon, not Tyre. I guess Tyre was the kingdom, and Sidon was the city she's from. Aeneas is walking through the city, and sees artisans working on depicting scenes from the Trojan War, interestingly enough. He bemoans to Achates (who seems to still be with him) the fact that his war has touched the whole earth. In the crowds, Aeneas sees his men, Antheus, Sergestus, Cloanthus, and the other Trojans. Aeneas and Achates choose not to make themselves known to the other Trojans, though. Aeneas wanted to know how they'd be received. This seems kinda cowardly, and not at all in the vein of the great Trojan heroes.

Ilioneus (the oldest) appeals to Dido as she's holding open court, in essence asking her for shelter and then safe passage to the shores of Italy (implying that the Trojans weren't there to make war on the Carthaginians). Dido grants it and asks if they want any help finding Aeneas. The cloud hiding Aeneas and Achates lifts magically at that point (Venus is SUCH the showboat), and Dido falls HARD.

At this point, it is mentioned for the first time that Anchises is Aeneas' father [617], and Ascanius is Aeneas' son [643].

Aeneas also tells Achates to bring some stuff back from the ships when he sends him down to the shore to tell Ascanius and the rest of their happy welcome. One of the items is a veil fringed with yellow acanthus flowers once worn by Helen. Venus gets to worrying, though, and wonders if the friendly welcome of Dido will last. So, she replaces Ascanius with Cupid (her son) and asks him to infest Dido with love (more like Obsession by Calvin Klein kind of love). Ooo, pretty. Oscula dulcia is Latin for sweet kisses. So, as Aeneas is feasting with Dido that night, the adorable child Ascanius (Cupid in disguise) comes into the hall (perhaps the fact that Ascanius is a child and was on the ships down at the shore is an excuse for Aeneas' cowardice earlier--he was more worried about his son than his friends).

Aeneas has given Dido the veil of Helen--what a gift! Dido "cannot satiate her soul." [713] What a way to describe love--or Eros, as the case may be. Dido takes Ascanius into her lap. Wow. What an image--the god of sexual passion IN HER LAP. Poor wench never had a chance. She prolongs the feast with entertainments, then begs Aeneas to tell the whole story of the Trojan War. Interestingly, she says [754] "tell us...of the treachery of the Greeks..." Everybody knows it was the treachery of the Trojans that started the whole thing, what with filching Helen from Menelaos and all. Perhaps the infestation of Eros has influenced her thought. After all, it was his mum that began the whole thing with the Judgment of Paris and giving Helen to a Trojan prince.

What a great experience! I'm definitely going to continue doing this.