Thank you for your comments and observations. I'd like to respond to them, but am somewhat at a loss, not having read the poem for over a year and a half now. However, I particularly enjoyed your assessment of the problems presented there. Especially, about yielding to heaven, and Aeneas' obvious disappointment with the turn of events, Re "hapless Dido." I don't remember the details, of prophecy, that is, but I wondered why not take her along? Was it revealed to him that he must wed another? (Probably. Oh, yeah, now I do: that's why he must slay that other guy at the end, the rival for his Roman queen.) I don't remember, but all that comes to mind right now is the Gospel account of the wedding in cana in galilee, in which St. Matthew records that Jesus of Nazareth turned water into wine, thereby performing his first miracle. The Master's response, however, to the women who requested him to act, was also uncharacteristic of one destined to judge and rule over men. He refused at first, saying, something like, "My time is not yet come." I'm not sure I agree with your conclusion regarding Aeneas' fitness to judge men, but at that time in the narrative, he may honestly be questioning destiny, justice, wisdom and the dispensation of merit-based rewards--what you beautifully referred to the price of leadership--but I find your remarks about his cynicism and bitterness fascinating nevertheless. So far, has he really yet been tested as a leader? When I re-read the Aeneid's accounts of the fall of Troy last time, I wasn't as impressed as much by Aeneas' heroism, excepting the deliverance of his family--carrying his father to safety--but more by how the inevitable conquest emphasized Greek atrocities and left the routed Trojans scampering to save their doomed skins. Perhaps it's one of those life lessons he's receiving which never makes sense in the short term, but whose significance only becomes clear to us in retrospection, after we've had the opportunity to arrange the an event or events of a complex life already lived into its proper context. I'm blabbing here, I realize, but Aeneas' seemingly callous desertion of Dido always bothered me. Her servant, oddly, took it in stride and kept counseling her Lady to behave a little more soberly, drop the martyr'd, doom'd lover stuff and live. The whole tone of that Book in which hero meets girl, woos her, and dumps her unceremoniously; girl builds pyre and falls-on her sword has also always tugged at my sense of fair play and justice. Although Aeneas comes clean by the Poem's end, that whole episode, and although superbly crafted, never excuses his dreadful, un-heroic dalliance with her. What was he thinking? Or what was she thinking? Why does she let herself fall so hopelessly for a no-win romance? Sure, he can just set sail for home, but Dido has no other options, does she? Maybe my own cynicism betrays me when I can't help wondering why she doesn't just chalk the bad affair up to experience and return to being queen? Is losing a man really worth falling on your sword? Ah, but one could always argue, Aeneas, now he's not just any man! And, that's what we miss about the Golden and Silver ages: honor still meant something to the ancients. Perhaps because I'm also reading Odyssey right now my thought is being influenced by styles of two different poets. Odysseus gets my goat by weeping oceans of tears, throughout the poem, longing to return to Ithaca and his beloved Penelope. He even remarks about the folly of even comparing a mortal woman's beauty to a goddess' to Calypso while still her prisoner. Sure, he repeatedly argues for the overwhelming desire for his own wife over any goddess, however beautiful. The tug for home may be greater, yet doesn't prevent Ulysses from taking "delight in love" with his Captor the night before his departure; nor does he refuse Circe one last fling before sailing home. "The man of many wiles..." indeed. Reminds me of Capt. Kirk. Sampling every alien woman he can get his hands while romping around the galaxy. (Kirk, of course, was divorced. I know. He doesn't shed oceans of tears for Iowa, his son, nor his ex-wife.) But I digressed. You may be right if Aeneas betrays his inner turmoil and bitterness. I have often reacted bitterly to Polinaurus' fate, denied entrance to Hades simply because he fell asleep at the wheel and plunged overboard. Unburied properly, he cannot join the dead. "your naked body shall lie unburied on some foreign shore." Perhaps again, pious Aeneas voices his anger at the seemingly arbitrary, fickle and often downright unfair behaviour of the gods, who seem to delight in dishing out capricious deeds on defenseless mortals. Could his sense of justice be taking shape here, as the Games test his leadership one more time? Even if he fails again, as he recently did in Carthage, Aeneas' trials are tempering him. Mustn't a hero evolve before his final showdown with destiny? I don't know what I'm getting at here, but if Aeneas does betray feelings here in Sicily, at least he's betraying a sense of conscience on some level. By calling attention to his frailties as judge during the games, you encourage me to let him off the hook for betraying Dido which before I read your comments, seemed wholly devoid of any feeling. He seemed more to be an instrument in the gods hands when that storm came up, and forced the lovers into the cave, and wholly wanting of any sense of responsibility for his actions. Anyway, in the future, I have to review the poem and present such disjointed thoughts in a more orderly manner. I get off of subjects too easily. Even now, I'm reminded of how humorous it is to read of Don Juan's exploits in Byron. Juan often washes up on some beach and is rescued and seduced by foreign maidens far from home. Does the fault lie with our injured sense of propriety as readers of Epic? It's okay to laugh at Juan in the Arab court, costumed like a servant boy, who spends his free time at the beach, seducing princesses and their attendants; but it's another to have Heros of Aeneas stature lapsing. Do we expect more of them? Each time I've read Aeneid, I've held Dido responsible for martyring herself to her selfish infatuation for the hero, who is only passing through. Your comments alerted me that I should re-examine him. Was I too rough on Dido? not rough enough on him for stopping long enough to grab a piece of tail before shoving off for Rome? Sorry to have blabbed so long and randomly and thanks for listening.
---Oliver P Metzger <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > It has often struck me that Aeneas's responses to the appeals made to him by the participants in the games of Book V are very interesting. > When Salius appeals to Aeneas to correct Nisus's cheating in the foot race (340 ff.), Aeneas responds "no one alters the prizes' order" (palmam movet ordine nemo) (349), and gives Salius an extra prize. At which point Nisus pipes up, "if you're rewarding losers, what about me?" Whereupon Aeneas also gives him a valuable prize (357-360). > Aeneas then intervenes in the boxing match and convinces one participant to quit, saying among other things "yield to heaven!" (cede deo). > Finally, in the shoot-the-bird contest (485-544), when the first contestant misses the bird narrowly, the second severs its bonds, the third hits it as it seeks to escape, and the fourth, in frustration, shoots his shaft into the sky only to see it consumed by flames, Aeneas proclaims the fourth man the victor and heaps rewards on him. > In each of these cases, Aeneas avoids ranking people according to merit. Indeed, merit and skill appear unrelated to success--the best boxer wins, but the best archer does not (and it is interesting to note that the recovering the wrecked boat takes much "skill" (270)). The contestants look to Aeneas to adjudicate a dispute, but he does not accept this responsibility. Instead, he buys off everyone involved; he makes them focus on something else, so that their dispute seems unimportant. > Do Aeneas's comment strike you as having an edge of cynicism, or bitterness perhaps? They come almost immediately after Aeneas has had to sacrifice the love of his life for the "rewards" of leadership etc. Aeneas himself has just "yielded to heaven" and cannot be very happy about it. When he makes these comments he is on Sicily, and therefore has literally left behind what he loved, yet has not reached his promised goals. When he proclaims "no one alters the prizes' order" I imagine a bitter look skyward--the moment that a spirit is broken. Is he saying to these people, "only fools expect justice in this life--look for rewards" or at least "you may or may not get justice in this life, but you can compensate by getting rewards"? In any event, Virgil is certainly not creating a hero that will be known for his wisdom and ability to judge. > > > > <HR> <!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD W3 HTML//EN"> <HTML> <HEAD> <META content=text/html;charset=iso-8859-1 http-equiv=Content-Type><!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD W3 HTML//EN"> <META content='"MSHTML 4.72.2106.6"' name=GENERATOR> </HEAD> <BODY bgColor=#ffffff> <DIV><FONT size=2> It has often struck me that Aeneas's responses to the appeals made to him by the participants in the games of Book V are very interesting.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=2> When Salius appeals to Aeneas to correct Nisus's cheating in the foot race (340 ff.), Aeneas responds "no one alters the prizes' order" (palmam movet ordine nemo) (349), and gives Salius an extra prize. At which point Nisus pipes up, "if you're rewarding losers, what about me?" Whereupon Aeneas also gives him a valuable prize (357-360).</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=2> Aeneas then intervenes in the boxing match and convinces one participant to quit, saying among other things "yield to heaven!" (cede deo).</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=2> Finally, in the shoot-the-bird contest (485-544), when the first contestant misses the bird narrowly, the second severs its bonds, the third hits it as it seeks to escape, and the fourth, in frustration, shoots his shaft into the sky only to see it consumed by flames, Aeneas proclaims the <U>fourth</U> man the victor and heaps rewards on him.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=#000000 size=2> In each of these cases, Aeneas avoids ranking people according to merit. Indeed, merit and skill appear unrelated to success--the best boxer wins, but the best archer does not (and it is interesting to note that the recovering the wrecked boat takes much "skill" (270)). The contestants look to Aeneas to adjudicate a dispute, but he does not accept this responsibility. Instead, he buys off everyone involved; he makes them focus on something else, so that their dispute seems unimportant.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT color=#000000 size=2> Do Aeneas's comment strike you as having an edge of cynicism, or bitterness perhaps?<FONT size=2> They come</FONT> almost immediately after Aeneas has had to sacrifice the love of his life for the "rewards" of leadership etc. Aeneas himself has just "yielded to heaven" and cannot be very happy about it. When he makes these comments he is on Sicily, and therefore has literally left behind what he loved, yet has not reached his promised goals. When he proclaims "no one alters the prizes' order" I imagine a bitter look skyward--the moment that a spirit is broken. Is he saying to these people, "only fools expect justice in this life--look for <U>rewards</U>" or at least "you may or may not get justice in this life, but you can compensate by getting rewards"? In any event, Virgil is certainly not creating a hero that will be known for his wisdom and ability to judge.</FONT></DIV> <DIV><FONT size=2></FONT> </DIV> <DIV><FONT size=2> <DIV><FONT size=2> </FONT></DIV></FONT></DIV></BODY></HTML> _________________________________________________________ DO YOU YAHOO!? Get your free @yahoo.com address at http://mail.yahoo.com ----------------------------------------------------------------------- To leave the Mantovano mailing list at any time, do NOT hit reply. Instead, send email to [EMAIL PROTECTED] with the message "unsubscribe mantovano" in the body (omitting the quotation marks). You can also unsubscribe at http://virgil.org/mantovano/mantovano.htm#unsub
