Statius and the Thebaid 9780521200523, 0521200520

Citation preview

STATIUS

AND

THE

THEBAID

PIIS PARENTIBVS MVNVS PIVM

ST ATIUS AND THE THEBAID

DAVID

VESSEY

CAMBRIDGE AT THE

UNIVERSITY 1 973

PRESS

Published by the Syndics of the Cambridge University Press Bentley House, 200 Euston Road, London NWI 2DB American Branch: 32 East 57th Street, New York, N.Y. roo22

© Cambridge University Press

1973

Library of Congress Catalogue Card Number: 72-83578 ISBN: 0

pr

200)2

O

Printed in Great Britain at the University Printing House, Cambridge (Brooke Crutchley, University Printer)

Contents

Preface

page vii

Introduction

I

Virgil and the epic tradition

I

The first century

5

Mannerism and classicism

7

I: The Silvae and Statius' art

Patrons and friends The locks of Earinus The prose prefaces The Thebaid in the Silvae Predecessors and parentage II: The Thebaid: basis and form

55

Unity and pathos

55

The proem to the Thebaid

60

Sources and models

67

The seeds of war

71

Jupiter and Fatum: the Stoic universe

82

III: Figures of ira and pietas

92

Polynices' journey to Argos

92

The myth of Linus and Coroebus

IOI

The pietas of Maeon

I07

Hopleus and Dymas; Menoeceus

II6

Argia and Antigone

131

CONTENTS

IV: The defeat of Adrastus

page 134

The marriage at Argos

1 34

The embassy of Tydeus The return of Tydeus

141 148

The augury at Argos

152

Argia' s plea The final defeat

1 59 161

V: The Argives at Nemea The intervention of Bacchus Hypsipyle's narrative The death of Opheltes The obsequiesof Archemorus VI: Statius and epic convention The mustering of the Argives The teichoscopy in hook J The funeral games in book G VII: Statius and the supernatural The ghost of Laius Necromancy at Thebes The katabasis of Amphiaraus VIII: Peacemakers and warmongers

270

Jocasta

270

The death of Tydeus

283

Hippomedon and Parthenopaeus

2

94

The nocturnal raid

3°3

Theseus and the end of strife

3o7

Appendix: The structure of the Thebaid Bibliography Index of passages cited

343

General index

353

Preface

The purpose of this book is to provide a critical analysis and evaluation of the Thebaid of Statius, by placing it in its historical and literary context, and by surveying its form, style and content. The justification for such an endeavour is twofold. I am convinced that t..1-ie epic is of intrinsic merit as a work of art. Furthermore, the Thebaid exerted a powerful influence on many writers in later ages. Though some valuable contributions to Statian studies have appeared in recent years, no book exists in English about this important figure in the literary tradition of Europe. It is hoped that this volume will to some extent fill this gap, both for classicists and for those whose interest lies in the medieval and modern period. Quotations from the Thebaid are generally based on the Oxford Text of H. W. Garrod (1906, 1965). For the Silvae -which present many critical problems (cf. my remarks in CP 66.273-4, 286) - I have relied principally on the editions of A. Klotz (Leipzig, 1902) and A. Marastoni (Leipzig, 1961). References in the footnotes have been made in the shortest form compatible with comprehensibility. Full details of all books and articles cited will be found in the Bibliography. Material that has appeared in American Journal of Philology 91 (1970) 315-31, Classical Bulletin 46 (1970) 49-64, Classical Philology 66 (1971) 87-96 and 236-43, and Latomus 29 (1970) 426-41 and 30 (1971) 375-82 has been revised and expanded in this book, and extracts have also been made from my articles in Antiquite Classique 39 (1970), Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 17 (1970), Classical World 63 (1970), Mnemosyne 25 (1972) and Philologus 114 (1970). I am most grateful to the Editors of these journals for their permission to make use of this material. It should be noted that this book was substantially completed in July 1971 and that only _minor revisions have been possible between then and the date of this preface. I particularly regret that Herbert Juhnke's Homerisches in romischer Epikflavischer Zeit (Munich, 1972) appeared too late for me to take account of it. I have been able only to include a few references to this valuable work in my footnotes. (The Vll

PREFACE

same must be said of R. D. Williams's edition of Thebaid IO (Leyden, 1972).) Finally, I wish to express my thanks to all those who have over the years encouraged and assisted me in my labours on the Thebaid, and especially to Mr E. J. Kenney of Peterhouse, Cambridge, and Dr A. J. Gossage of King's College, London. London

DAVID

April :1972

vm

VESSEY

Introduction Virgil and the epic tradition To most people, the Latin epic is synonymous with Virgil. The Romans themselves would have recognised the justice, indeed the inevitability, of this view. As soon as it appeared, the Aeneid stood supreme, its pre-eminence apparently beyond challenge or dispute. The few ripples of dissent that have from time to time stirred the serene grandeur of Virgil's reputation have always passed into oblivion or discredit. The Aeneid is more than the finest flower of Latin literature; its place is permanently assured among those few unassailable masterpieces that transcend time and historical change, a symbol as much as an embodiment of Western culture. The first century of the Christian era produced four substantial epic poems: Lucan's Bellum civile, Valerius' Argonautica, Statius' Thehaid and Silius' Punica. None of them can bear comparison with the Aeneid. Lucan attempted, rashly and unsuccessfully, to break free from the Virgilian tradition and to create a new style of epic. 1 His aim, at least implicitly, was to contest the primacy of the Aeneid. Fate denied him the opportunity of completing his task. His early death, brought about by the jealousy and suspicion of a tyrant who esteemed himself a poet, deprived the world of seeing in its entirety the epic that lamented the death of Roman liberty on the basis of a dogmatic Stoicism. 2 The other three poets, writing some twenty years later, recognised the futility of Lucan's aim; all accepted Virgil as their master and the Aeneid as the perfect exemplar of their genre, to be imitated and worshipped, but never equalled. Their realism, which was proved in the event, should not, however, blind us to the merits of those who willingly accepted a position in the second rank. 1

2

For Lucan's anti-Virgilian approach, see, e.g., Due, CM 22.106-20; Guillemin, REL 29.214 ff. Cf. also von Albrecht, in Lucain (Fond. Hardt Entretiens 15) 281-9; Thompson and Bruere, CP 65.152 ff. . For Lucan's relations with Nero, the basic material is given by Heitland in his introduction to Haskins's edition, xxvi-xxx; cf. Butler, Post-Augustan Poetry, 98-9; Gresseth, CP 52.24-7; Brisset, Les ldees politiques, 11-15 and Due, loc. cit., 93 ff. On the Stoic basis of the Bellum civile, cf., esp., Marti, AJP 66.352-76; Due, in Lucain (Fond. Hardt Entretiens 15) 203-24. For Lucan as a champion of lihertas, cf. Schonberger, Das Altertum 10.26-40. I

I

VST

INTRODUCTION

Lucan has always had his admirers. His epic is worthy of their regard for its fire and animation, for its rhetorical brilliance and sustained verbal power. 1 Its appeal has also been felt by many who have in later ages opposed despotism and the worship of power. Statius, Valerius and Silius are now scarcely known outside the world of professional scholarship. It was not always so: Statius, like Lucan, for many centuries held a place of high honour in the consideration of men of letters. 2 The savants of the middle ages found in him much to praise and to emulate, reading him hardly less than Virgil; in the Renaissance too he was studied and admired. A poet who inspired the devotion of Dante, Chaucer and Spenser deserves a fate better than annihilation. 3 But more recent times have largely forgotten Statius. In this century, a few scholars have attempted to redress the balance, bringing to the notice of a limited audience some of the qualities that made Statius more than a second-rate or maladroit plagiarist of Virgil. Valerius too, who did not share Statius' long celebrity, has had his share of advocates. Silius has rarely found a defender, and most of his readers have been content to endorse the tepid verdict of Pliny, 'scribebat carmina maiore cura quam ingenio' (Ep. 3.7.5). The Punica languishes under the burden of its own length, for, to find the occasional gems, one must endure the dross.4 In addition to the Thehaid, Statius composed a number of occasional poems on a variety of themes, which he eventually gathered into four books of Si!vae; a fifth was added, most probably after the author's death. Towards the end of his life, he commenced a second epic, the Achilleid, but survived long enough to write only one complete book and a fragment of another. The Silvae were virtually unknown in the middle ages, but the unfinished epic shared the fame of the Thebaid.s By a curious quirk of fortune, it is now the short poems of Statius that are most commonly read and most often praised. As we shall see, this 1 2

3

~ 5

Cf. Qgintilian ro.r.90. For Lucan's popularity with later radicals, cf. Tucker, CP 66.6-16; on his influence in general, cf. Fraenkel, Kl. Beitriige, 243 ff.; Raby, Secular Latin Poetry 1, 34-6; Tillyard, The English Epic, 98-9. On Statius and Dante, cf. Lehanneur, De Statii Vita, 29-31; Verra!!, Coll. Lit. Essays, 151 ff.; Lewis, Stud. in Med. and Ren. Lit., 94 ff.; Pezard, Bihl. d'human. et ren. 14.1028; McKay, CM 26.293-305. His relations with Chaucer have been analysed by Wise, lnfl. of Statius upon Chauc.; for Spenser, cf. Tillyard, op. cit., 104. 'E.K.' mentions Statius' epithalamium (Silv. 1.2) in his gloss on the January Aeglogue of The Shepherds' Calendar(423 in Smith/de Selincourt (Oxford Standard Authors)). Cf. the remarks of Duff, LCL ed., r, xiv-xvi. Cf. Clogan, The Medieval Achilleid, 1-3; Meheust, Achilleide, xxxviii-xxxix. 2

VIRGIL

AND

THE

EPIC

TRADITION

would have surprised and perhaps shocked their author, but the epic has passed out of fashion and the word poetry itself has come to be popularly associated with personal lyric, usually brief. The ancients found a place for such poems, but it was a humble and secondary one. To them, epic and tragedy were the highest and noblest genres in the hierarchy of literature. To them, as to the Elizabethans, the poet was a skilled craftsman rather than an exponent of psychological selfrevelation. It is true that for a period, under the influence of Callimachus and his school, the epic fell under a shadow among the fashionable poets of Rome. It was Virgil who succeeded in validating and renewing the greatest of genres. While he was still working on the Aeneid, a contemporary, known for his fervid defence of the Callimachean standpoint, was constrained to admit that the epic had been reborn and revivified as a literary kind; he summarised his view in a phrase that has become famous - Virgil, Propertius asserted, was creating a poem that excelled the Iliad. He intended more than a vapid or jingoistic tribute by his compliment. For the first time since Homer, an epic masterpiece had been conceived and executed. From that moment the course of Latin poetry was transformed. 1 Men such as Lucan and Statius thereafter dared to concentrate their talents and stake their reputations on the massive and arduous task of writing epics. Reasons other than those of personal preference and native genius led to Virgil's renewal of the epos in the age of Augustus. Virgil was heir to a double tradition which he successfully united. 2 In the period of chaos and civil war that preceded the establishment of the principate (that is, the rule of one man and the dominance of a single house), an influential group of poets, represented to us by Catullus, had rejected what lay before them in Latin literature in favour of a new and modern approach to their art. They spurned the old patriotic and moral spirit that had inspired such writers as Naevius and Ennius; they enthusiastically embraced the principles and prejudices of such Hellenistic poets as Callimachus and Euphorion. 3 For these novi poetae, the disillusion of a violent and revolutionary age led to re-affirmation of the individual, to poetry of escapism and personal emotion. They sought to write polished, urbane and learned poems; they were docti poetae, and the hoary epics and tragedies of the past filled them with aesthetic horror. Propertius, 2. 34.65-6: on this poem and its interpretation, see Vessey, P VS 9· 53-76. Cf. Otis, Virgil, 5-40. 3 Cf. the remarks of Mendell, YCS 12.207-8; Q!Jinn, Catullan Revolution, 48 ff.; Boucher, Et. sur Properce, 13 ff. 1

2

3

1-2

INTRODUCTION

To a conservative like Cicero, their attitude was damnable. 1 But in fact the revolution created by the' new poets' moulded the form and intent of Latin literature for ever. Without them, there could have been no Virgil, no Horace, no Ovid. When Cicero sneered at the cantores Euplwrionis, he could not f9resee the stunning richness that was shortly to emerge in the Augustan era. Such movements of change are necessary if literature is to survive, if new summits are to be reached. In the history of our own poetry, we may cite the parallel of Wyatt and Surrey, who turned aside from the senescent torpor of post-Chaucerian verse and sought models and principles among the luminaries of the continental renaissance; by so doing, they laid the foundation on which Spenser and Sidney were to build, and made possible the rich harvest that was gathered later in the century. The concentration on formal perfection and conscious artistry that characterised the 'new poets' was salutary and vital. But such a movement could easily lead to a cul-de-sac and to sterility. By the time of Horace, the 'new poetry' had decayed. 2 A further impetus was needed, and it came with the establishment of the Renewed Republic under Augustus. The rule of one princeps, however subtly disguised, may have been alien to the traditional spirit of Rome, but it was welcome and necessary. The blessings of peace and order are rarely appreciated more than by a people that has suffered a prolonged period of civil strife. We may envisage Augustus as a benevolent monarch on the pattern of Bolingbroke's Patriot King; we may, like William Camden, see him as akin to Elizabeth I; or, alternatively, as a cynical autocrat, according to taste. To the majority of his subjects the solid and tangible stability that followed his victory far outweighed the losses that had been inflicted on a largely selfish oligarchy. Augustus aimed to do more than establish tranquil government; he desired to make it permanent and to prevent a return to discord. Ancient traditions and a pristine, perhaps illusory, patriotism and code of morals were to be brought back to life. In such an atmosphere, the anarchic spirit of the 'new poets' had no place. The carefree association of equals which existed among Catullus and his friends had to disappear, with its freedom to opt out of political life and to vilify prominent figures in the respublica. Some vestiges of the neoteric Lebensform continued in the work of the elegists, but its final demise may be seen in the banishment of Ovid to Tomi. Cicero, ad Att. 7.2; Tusc. Disp. 3.45: on which, cf. C2!:Jinn,Catullan Revolution, 19-21. z Horace, Satires 1.4 and 10: cf. Otis, TAPA 76.177 ff.; Brink, Horace on Poetry, 160--1, 167-8. 1

4

VIRGIL

AND

THE

EPIC

TRADITION

Nonetheless the artistic achievements and aesthetic purification of the new poetry left a legacy that could not be rejected. Its standards of creative excellence were embraced and perfected by the Augustan poets. The prior tradition - of which Ennius was the principal representative - was also worthy of reverence. His moral gravity, his profound awareness of the destiny and greatness of Rome, deserved to be harmonised with the new criteria of poetry. In the Aeneid, Virgil achieved this integration, just as Spenser, in the Faerie Q.Eeene,combined a love of Chaucer with the fresh poetic ideals that he had been largely instrumental in formulating. Virgil produced an epic of and for Rome, a proclamation of the aims and hopes of the New State, imbued with an overwhelming sense of the mystique and majesty of the legendary past; but he worked in accordance with the exacting canons ofliterary refinement that had been asserted by the novi poetae. It would, of course, be unjust to think of Virgil simply as a propagandist, or as a mere evangelist of the Augustan programme. He, like his contemporaries, was as much a witness to as an apostle of the enthusiastic spirit of the respublica restituta. It was a climate that, by the nature of human institutions, could not last. The first century

The gulf that separates Livy from Tacitus also divides Virgil from Statius. Between them lay the decline of the principate into an undisguised and unfettered autocracy: Augustus was betrayed by his successors. The tale is told with unequalled genius in the Annals and Histories of Tacitus. 1 The sincere tributes that had been paid to Augustus by Virgil and Horace were soon transmuted into the nauseous flattery that was offered to those that came after him. By the time of Nero, the atmosphere was radically different. Lucan, like his uncle Seneca, found refuge in Stoicism, which with its ideal picture of the sapiens, of the philosopher-king, presented a total antithesis to the harsh realities of tyranny. Lucan went too far. His end was a lesson that was learned by the poets that followed him. The Stoic intransigents, increasingly impotent and frustrated, found no other exponent to equal the author of the Bel/um civile.2 After the deposition and death of Nero, the year of the four emperors brought unhappy reminiscences of the late Republic. Monarchy could 1 2

Cf. Syme, Tacitus, 408-u; Vessey, AJP 92.385, 409. For the nature of Stoic opposition to the Principate after Nero, see McMullen, Enemies of the Roman Order, 54 ff.

5

INTRODUCTION

never again be seriously challenged, for there was no feasible alternative. Statius' literary career commenced under Vespasian, but reached its apogee in the reign of his son Domitian, who succeeded to the empire after the premature demise of his elder brother Titus in 81. The new princeps has a poor reputation, worse perhaps than he deserved. He was an efficient administrator; his failings were of psychological origin. Gloomy, nervous and austere, he lacked the essential qualifications of true popularity. The customary picture of him is conventional, but not necessarily baseless; it traces the precipitous decline to greater ruthlessness and tyranny, ending in a dark and savage miasma. 1 Domitian was not content to be merely .first citizen of Rome, however technical that appellation might be - he was dominus et deus, the earthly Jupiter, the son, brother and father of gods. 2 The adulation which he received during his reign is matched by the bitter execration which was directed against his memory under Nerva, Trajan and Hadrian. The poets of the time were compelled to pay literary homage to the lord and god. It is tempting to believe that their enthusiasm was false and born of constraint. The bald Nero, though professing modesty, expected and received flattery, gross and unfitting.3 Not least in Statius' Silvae: the poet bore constantly in mind the pressing duty of commemorating the triumphs, achievements and virtues of the emperor, of supporting the regime.4 Denied freedom of thought (and perhaps with little idea of what such a concept involved), Statius turned to the dramatisation of the often trivial activities of his friends and patrons, and to the mythological epic. Valerius and Silius followed a similar path, the former selecting the Argonautic legend for his endeavours, the latter a period of Roman history sufficiently remote to be noncontroversial. We have passed far from Virgil. The patriotic motive was now no longer the glorification of a 'new age' in which Roman greatness was re-asserted and reborn; it was rather centred on praising the dominus and his public actions. Statius was an overt and committed supporter of Domitian, of the ' For the character ofDomitian, cf. Syme, Tacitus, 214-16; 595-7; a benevolent view is taken by Waters, Phoen. 18.49-77. 2 For Domitian as dominus et deus, cf. Sauter, Der rom. Kaiserku!t, 36-40; on the Flavian divina domus, cf. Scott, Imperial Cult, 61 ff.; for the expansion of the imperial cult generally under Vespasian, cf. also Fishwick, CQ 15.155-7. 3 'Calvus Nero': Juvenal, Sat. 4.38; on Domitian's apparent modesty, Suetonius, Dom.2. 4 On Statius' concept of the Emperor as the embodiment of Rome's greatness and as 'parens mundi', see esp. Silvae 4.1.

6

THE

FIRST

CENTURY

divina domus and of its courtiers. 1 In the Silvae, the poems written in praise of the Emperor have often been criticised. Juvenal was later to parody them in his Satires and to refer to the poet in terms of embittered irony. 2 Modern writers, from the days of Nisard, have been only too eager to indict Statius for servility.3 The accusation is unjust. The epigrammatist Martial flattered Domitian no less vociferously; his later volte-face is scarcely edifying.4 Q_yintilian also, the humane and respected professor of rhetoric, made his bow toward the shrine of imperial greatness. 5 Tacitus and Pliny survived to purge their conscience of an acquiescence that bordered on opportunism. An age that has seen greater tyrannies will be less likely to blame a man for preferring bread and safety to the dubious privilege of posthumous glory; nor should we forget, for example, the cult of Elizabeth I in our own literature. Elizabeth was no Domitian, but she too received and enjoyed extreme adulation, not lacking even the elements of apotheosis. 6 Statius did not live long enough to have the chance of abrogating, like Martial, his former allegiance: it is a perverse justice that condemns a man for dying too soon. It is possible, however, that Statius would not have wished to follow the example of Martial in the easy game of defaming a dead ruler. He may well have had a genuine regard for Domitian. His poetic career ended as it had begun: in fervent loyalty to the Flavian house. Such fidelity may have been directed towards an unworthy object. It should not be used as a means of denigration, merely because the poet had no time in which to recant. Mannerism and classicism

The high ideals and optimistic aspirations of the Augustan writers had long since evaporated. They were not so much discredited as no longer appropriate. The literary ethos had likewise undergone a metamorphosis. Politically the era of the first princeps came to be Silvae 5 praef. (to Abascantus, on whom, see below, p. 26): 'praeterea latus omne divinae domus semper demereri pro mea mediocritate conitor.' 2 For Juvenal's sarcasticand often misunderstood - reference to Statius (7.82 ff.), cf., esp., Ercole, RIG/ 15.43-50; Tandoi, At. e R. 13.125-45 and Maia 21.103-22; Pichon, De SermoneAmatorio, 6, pointed out that Juvenal is using a burlesque of erotic vocabulary in this passage. For possible parodies in Satires 4 and 7, cf. Highet,juvenal, 256-7, with notes 1, 5, 11, 12; Helmbold and O'Neill, CP 54.100-8 (with Anderson, CP 57.145-60). 3 Nisard, Etudes I, 262 ff. 4 Cf. Sauter, Der romische Kaiserku!t, for both Martial's and Statius' attitude to Domitian. On Statius' flattery, see the sensible remarks of Thomas, Le Poete Stace, 17-18. s Q_yintilian 4 praef. 2 ff. with the remarks of Kennedy, AJP 83.133-5. 6 See E. C. Wilson, England's Eliz.a (Harv. Stud. in Engl. Lit. 20 (Cambridge, Mass. 1939)). Cf. also Curtius, European Lit., 176-8. r See

7

INTRODUCTION

regarded - at least in principle - as a Golden Age and as a model; the name Augustus became a permanent appellation of the emperor in deference to the man who had established the monarchy. In a similar way, the poets of his time were rapidly endowed with the status of classics. As we have already remarked, for epic writers in the Flavian era, Virgil was regarded as master. It was folly to dispute his preeminence. There are dangers in such an attitude. The recognition of norms of artistic perfection will in itself give rise to imitative tendencies, and so to the formalisation of criteria in themselves good but easily transmuted into convention. In such a way mannerism comes to birth in literature. Ernst Robert Curtius, in a remarkable chapter of his Europi:iischeLiteratur und lateinisches Mittelalter, surveyed the causes and symptoms of mannerism. 1 The term has since then been usefully annexed by other writers on Latin literature. 2 Mannerism may, perhaps, be best described as a disease of classicism. Ancient theories of imitatio in themselves lent encouragement to the excesses of mannerism. Qgintilian's fine discussion of imitation in book rn of the Institutio Oratoria may be interpreted as a protest against what we would now term the mannerism of some of his contemporaries.3 Qgintilian's argument is based on the conventional idea that imitatio is a universal rule of life; for men tend to copy what they approve in others. It is basic, he maintains, that in every branch of learning a standard should be established, taken from writers of indisputable merit. To reproduce that standard is the object of imitatio. But this can naturally lead to perversion. The recognition of classical canons is not enough. It is a duty to seek for new methods; indeed 'turpe etiam illud est, contentum esse id consequi, quod imiteris '. Furthermore, imitation is in itself artificial and mere plagiarism will deprive a work of all its greatest qualities: 'ingenium, inventio, vis, facilitas et quicquid arte non traditur'.4 It is unfortunately true that many imitators exaggerate and plagiarise the worst faults in their models rather than their best points. Qgintilian maintains that we must seek the' propria bona' of our models 1

2

3

Curtius, Europ. Lit., 273 ff. On Statius' mannerism, cf. Cancik, Untersuchungen, 49 ff.; Schetter, Untersuchungen, 122 ff. For Ovid's 'baroque' or mannered tendencies, cf. Bardon, in Ovidiana, 75 ff. (and cf. Johnson, CSCA 3.137-51, on Ovid's 'counter-classicism'); on Lucan, cf. Fraenkel, Kl. Beitrcige, 237-8; Tucker, Cf/7 62.295-7. On the whole subject of mannerism in early imperial poetry see now E. Burck, Vom rom. Manierismus, esp. at 38 ff., 59 ff. (on Statius). Qgintilian 10.2.1 ff. For discussions of his theory of imitation, cf. Cousin, Et. sur Q.Eintilien 1, 584-8: Atkins, Lit. Criticism n, 280 ff. See also the remarks of Pliny, 4 Qgintilian 10.2.7, 12. Ep. 7.9 and 30.

8

MANNERISM

AND

CLASSICISM

and supplement them with virtues of our own, aiming to arrive at a new excellence; imitatio should not produce slavish dependence but rather a wise and critical transmutation: only then can it be said that a man has really been able 'priores su perasse, posteros docuisse '. 1 Imitatio, then, is not solely reverence for the past; it is an instrument for reaching new heights and winning future renown. Q!!intilian's advice to orators is of course a counsel of perfection. It is a skilful restatement of a classical theory which is set in opposition to contemporary practice, which had adopted the idea of imitatio and abused it. In his day, there were too many who were unable to tell bad from good, to avoid 'vitia virtutibus proxima'. 2 Stylists like Seneca had had, in Q!!intilian's view, a meretricious influence. 3 Only too often there now appeared 'pro grandibus tumidi, pressis exiles, fortibus temerarii, laetis corrupti, compositis exultantes, simplicibus negligentes '. 4 Q!!intilian accepted the traditional thesis that a pure style was related to a virtuous life and a decadent style to decadence.s His Institutio was intended, like Tacitus' Dialogus, to be a counterblast to decadence and corruption, a stimulus to older values in style and in life. In his discussion, Q!!intilian has, by depicting the results of wrongly applied imitatio, given an excellent summary of the essential traits of mannerism. Mannered writers are fully aware, indeed too conscious, of the greatness of their classical predecessors; but they are unable to distinguish temperance from excess. They place ars above ingenium; they change virtues into vices and excellencies of style into specious artifices. Curtius has succinctly expressed the truth: 'The mannerist wants to say things not normally but abnormally. He prefers the artificial and affected to the natural. He wants to surprise, to astonish, to dazzle. While there is only one way of saying things naturally, there are a thousand forms of unnaturalness.' 6 This cult of the unnatural is intimately linked with rhetorical theory, and in particular with the hypothesis of imitation. Felicities of style are' piled on indiscriminately and meaninglessly'; the mannerist consistently 'overruns the classic norm'. 7 Curtius has seen that this characteristic can be manifested in 'linguistic form' and in 'intellectual content', adding that 'in its florescence it combines both'. 8 Mannerism, in other words, at its height affects both how a writer-expresses himself and what he says. Statius 1 3

4

6

2 Ibid. 10.2.16. Qyintilian 10.2.28 ad fin. Ibid. 10.r.125 ff., and cf. Bolaffi, Latam. 10.466 ff.; Currie, BICS 13.76-87. Qyintilian 10.2.16. s See the discussion of Winterbottom, JRS 54.90-7. 8 Ibid., 282. 7 Ibid., 273. Curtius, Europ. Lit., 282.

9

INTRODUCTION

must be recognised as a mannered poet, in the light of the contemporary discussion of Qgintilian and the modern explorations of E. R. Curtius. The seeds of mannerism in Latin literature were sown by Ovid. They germinated with Seneca and Lucan and blossomed with Statius. Full-blown blooms and decaying petals are found in profusion in late antiquity and in the middle ages. To understand fully the literary crosscurrents of the Flavian era we may conveniently utilise a further definition made by Curtius: Within the concept 'Classicism' we must introduce another distinction. What we have called classical periods of florescence are isolated peaks, which we can bring together as 'Ideal Classicism' only for purposes of practical communication. They rise out of the spreading plateau of 'Standard Classicism'. By this term I designate all authors and periods which write correctly, clearly and in accordance with the rules, without representing the highest human and artistic values. 1

Among the 'standard classics', Curtius very properly places Qgintilian himself. 2 In the age of Domitian, there can be traced two literary movements - mannerism and standard classicism. A similar and instructive dichotomy is visible in the plastic arts of the period. Statius himself learnt much from them. In the Sifyae he exhibits his skill at and penchant for describing architectural achievements and various objets de luxe. 3 In the Thebaid it has often been felt that some of the most effective descriptive passages were inspired by paintings or sculptures.4 This is highly probable. Statius' descriptions often seem to have an almost photographic effect: Dilke has remarked on Statius' 'ability to make a reader stop and visualise a scene as if it were a picture'.s Bardon has presented a forceful exposition of this theme. 6 He has drawn attention to the parallels which exist between the poetic method of Statius and certain trends in the visual arts at the Ibid., 274. Curtius' inclusion of Cicero among the 'standard classics' (ibid., 274) is less happy; it is in part Quintilian's reverential attitude to Cicero (on which, cf. Kennedy, AJP 83.134-5) that makes the term appropriate for him; Cicero is surely the norm of Latin prose, by which later classicism is to be judged. 3 We now have an excellent investigation of this aspect of the Silvae in Cancik, Untersuchungen (on which, cf. the review by Kenney, CR 16.331-3). 4 Duncan, The lr.fl.uenceof Art, is the best treatment; for a similar approach, cf. Luck's remarks on Tibullus in Latin Love Elegy, 68-9; on Ovid and Propertius, ibid. II7-18; Viarre, L'Image et la pensee, 120 ff. on Ovid's ecphraseis. s Dilke, Latom. 22.503. 6 Bardon, Latom. 21.732-48; cf. Vessey, CW 63,232-4. I

2

10

MANNERISM

AND

CLASSICISM

time. The vivid technique of the Thebaid is reminiscent, for instance, of the kind of art found in the two relief panels on the Arch of Titus (A.D. 81). These were for a long time considered typical of Flavian art. They have been termed 'illusionistic', that is of a highly developed realism, which might be termed baroque or mannered. Gsell briefly expresses the old view about architecture under Domitian: 'Des signes de decadence se montrent clans !'architecture qui vise a la richesse: un gout exagere pour les materiaux precieux la surcharge de l'ornamentation.' 1 The same words, slightly changed, might be applied to Statius' verse, and Bardon is correct when he remarks that' la Thebai:de de Stace est !'equivalent pictural du baroquisme en art'. 2 At the same time, however, there existed another 'classicising Flavian style', lacking the illusionistic or baroque quality, 3 which, as Bardon realised, finds its complement in literature in Qgintilian and Valerius Flaccus.4 It seems probable that the former style was that favoured by the emperor Domitian and his associates, of whom Statius was so loyal an adherent. There is, therefore, a real connexion between the ornate, 'surcharged' style of the Thebaid and tendencies traceable in the visual arts of the late Flavian period. Furthermore Statius was a frequent imitator of the tragedies of Seneca, and an avowed devotee of Lucan. 5 Both were important figures in the history of Roman mannerism. It is true that Statius presented himself as a lowly disciple of the magnus magister, Virgil. 6 Despite this, it has been observed that although Statius 'professed himself a humble follower of Virgil. .. his work is not at all Virgilian '. 7 We may go further: in many respects, Statius, like Lucan, is not merely post- Virgilian but anti-Virgilian - although not, perhaps, by deliberate intention. Virgil cannot be called a mannerist. Ovid has been, and both Lucan and Statius owed a profound debt to Ovid. With this, we may contrast Valerius Flaccus: although he made some use of Lucan and although the influence of Ovid can be clearly detected in his epic, his Gsell, Domitien, 127. Bardon, foe. cit. 741. 3 Toynbee, Art of the Romans, 56-7. 4 Bardon, foe. cit. 735 ff. s On Silvae 2.7, Statius' poem for the dead Lucan, see below, pp. 46-9. For his imitations of Lucan, cf., esp., Venini,R/L.99.149 ff., 157 ff.; RFC 95.418-27; Thehaid XI, xix-xxi. Michler, De Statio • .. Lucani imitatore is jejune and unhelpful. 6 Silvae 4.4.53-5; cf. Silvae 4.7.25 ff.; Thehaid 12.8m ff.; below, pp. 43-4, 45, 54· 7 Thomson, Classical Background, 55; cf. Reinach, Rev. Phil. 31.48-9: 'Stace est sans doute de bonne foi quand ii se croit l'imitateur de Virgile ... Son style n'a rien de virgilien', and the remarks of Bardon, Latom. 21.741. 1

2

II

INTRODUCTION

utilisation of them is not so considerable as that of Statius. 1 Valerius is a 'standard classiciser ', far more aptly labelled a Virgilian poet than Statius. 2 To be sure, some mannered traits can be found in the Argonautica: no man can live entirely outside his own age. In general the epithet is not appropriate to his work. It is not improper to say that Statius attempted to fuse two opposing literary traditions: Virgil on the one hand, Ovid, Seneca and Lucan on the other. The result is a mannered epic, in total contrast to the classicism of Q.Eintilian, Valerius and, to a lesser extent, Silius. It should not be forgotten that, in the lnstitutio, Qgintilian was critical of Ovid, antagonistic to Seneca and tepid towards Lucan, whereas Valerius is mentioned with approval.3 A further point may be added. Juvenal's description of Domitian as calvus Nero is more than a mere jibe. Domitian was in many ways a true successor to, even an imitator of Nero. An example may be taken from the plastic arts: in portrait busts of Domitian's day, there was a return to the style favoured by N era (and rejected by Vespasian), a style showing the 'rich exuberant modelling of early-Hellenistic portraits'. 4 The extreme adulation given to Nero in contemporary literature is paralleled by the gross flattery of Domitian in the writers of his day. The climate that produced the Bellum civile is close to that which gave birth to the Tlzehaid. The difference is that the former was a product of an enemy, the latter of a friend of the reigning emperor. In both cases, a mannered epic was created. Statius is the representative of a style not so much Flavian as Domitianic. The classicisers of Domitian's reign really typified the reaction against Nero and all his works which had been the fundamental basis of Vespasian's policies. Qgintilian was recalled from Spain by Galba, and received high honour from Vespasian. Valerius certainly commenced his Argonautica in the lifetime of the first Flavian princeps. 5 The Dialogus of Tacitus, if an early dating is accepted, can be seen as arising from the same atmosphere. Vespasian, On Valerius' relations with Lucan, cf. Summers, Study, 39-40; Mehmel, Valerius, 120 ff.; and below, p. 248. 2 On the extent of Valerius' debt to Virgil, cf., e.g., Marbach, Quomodo Valerius ... Vergilium ... imitatus sit; Stroh, Studien; Summers, Study, 33 ff.; Mehmel, Valerius 41 ff.; Merone, Sulla Lingua; Nordera, in Contributi a tre poeti latini, 1-92. Cf. Steele, CP 25.330; 'Of the writers we are considering [Valerius, Statius, Silius] Flaccus worked within the narrowest limits. Virgil was his master and everywhere are patches of Virgilian color.' Also Gossage, in Virgil (ed. Dudley), 71-2. 3 Qgintilian on Ovid: ro.1.88, 93; on Seneca: ro.r.125 ff.; on Lucan: ro.r.90. 4 Toynbee, Art of the Romans, 35. s Argon. r.7 ff. (dedication to Vespasian); for the dating, see Ussani, Studio su Valerio, 41 ff. 1

12

MANNERISM

AND

CLASSICISM

however, had no deep interest in literature;1 his younger son did. Domitian, like Nero, wrote poetry himself and gave public readings of his work, although, Suetonius asserts, his enthusiasm waned in his later years. 2 It is not difficult to understand the origin of the dual stream of literature that flowed under Domitian. The standard classicisers represented the original Flavian rejection of N era; they spurned the mannered style of Seneca and Lucan. Statius, the laureate ofDomitian's court, turned back to the spurned tradition. Neither school was to prove victorious. Under Hadrian, a man of perverse literary tastes, the dominating fashion was that of archaism, a movement best seen in Fron to and Aul us Gellius. 3 It was not until later, in the age of Claudian, that mannerism once more came into its own and Statius was favoured and imitated. 4 It is not surprising that a poet so closely aligned with Domitian's regime, was largely ignored after the tyrant's death. The autocratic principates of Nero and Domitian were especially conducive to mannerism. It is no coincidence that Ovid wrote at a time of growing autocracy, to which, in fact, he ultimately fell victim. A parallel may be taken from a different epoch. Eric Newton, writing of the mannered painters ofitalyin the late sixteenth century, has described them as 'men caught in a cul-de-sac, and therefore deprived of the full freedom of movement that their predecessors had enjoyed'. 'Mannerism', he adds, 'cannot be explained merely by saying that a set of minor artists had chosen to exaggerate the stylistic tricks of their predecessors.' The explanation, he argues, is to be found in a changed political atmosphere: 'small highly civilised courts ... imposed their will on the artists that served them'. And so we find such painters as Parmigianino and Tibaldi 'responding to the sophisticated preciousness of such an atmosphere and reproducing its exact equivalent in formal terms' .s The similarity to Statius' situation is obvious. His poetry reflects and reproduces the oppressive spirit of Domitian's court. To appreciate Statian mannerism is not easy, but it is a task worth the effort. Statius may be crediblydenominated the greatest Roman exponent of what John Shearman in his sympathetic study of Renaissance Cf. Woodside, TAPA 73.123-9 for Vespasian's lack of enthusiasm for literature. Cf. Suetonius, Dom. 2; Valerius, Argon. 1.14; Statius, Achill. 1.15; Silius, Pun. 3.618; Q!iintilian 10.1.91-2, and see Bardon, Les Empereurs et les lettres, 308 ff. 3 D'Alton, Roman Literary Theory, 314-15; Laistner, Thought and Letters, 36-7; on Hadrian's literary tastes: Spartianus, Vit. Hadr. 16; Dio, 69.4: cf. Vessey, Hermes 99.9- 10. 4 Cf. Cameron, C!audian, 255, 272; also Valmaggi, RFC 21.409-62, 481-554. s Newton, European Painting and Sculpture, 177-8. Cf. Shearman, Mannerism, 176-7. 1

2

13

INTRODUCTION

mannerism, has termed the 'stylish style'. 1 In their esteem for virtuosity and their quest for' the" absolute" work of art', the mannerists were often guilty of what appears to be capriciousness and excess. 2 Their ideals were in many ways restricting, but, as Professor Newton has written, 'restricted movement, like that of a caged animal, has its own fascination' .3 1

Shearman, op. cit., 19.

2

Shearman, op. cit., 44, 186-8.

14

3

Newton, op. cit., 177.

I

The Silvae and Statius' art

Patrons and friends

We are fortunate in possessing, in addition to Statius' epic poems, his pieces d' occasion, the Silvae. Here we may find, if not a full literary manifesto, much valuable evidence as to the poet's aims, intentions and prejudices, as well as material shedding light on the milieu in which he lived and wrote. Statius cannot be isolated from his age: the Thebaid cannot be discussed without reference to the Silvae. An understanding of his era, his education, social background, his patrons and associates, his audience and the literary conventions of his day provides a proper basis for the evaluation of his magnum opus. The Silvae are valuable documents, illuminating the nature of cultured society in the late first century- to be compared in this respect with Pliny's Epistles, to which indeed they have a generic similarity. 1 Statius began to collect his shorter poems together into books only after the publication of the Thebaid. Many of them, however, were clearly written before the epic had been completed. It is a reasonable assumption that they are merely a selection out of a larger number of commissioned poems, presumably those that Statius felt were the best of his work of this kind. The first four books, it seems, followed each other in rapid succession from 92 to 95. The fifth, which is incomplete and in other ways unsatisfactory, was probably, like the Achilleid, issued posthumously by an unknown literary executor. 2 The Silvae permit us to savour the atmosphere in which the Thebaidwas composed. In writing them, Statius was compelled to consider the tastes and wishes of his patrons, on whom he depended for material, as well as literary, sustenance. In a similar way, when working on his epic, he had to bear in mind the opinion of the audiences to which he declaimed sections of the Thebaid as it progressed towards completion. Statius craved the approval of his public, and, if the disapproving Juvenal is to be believed, gained it. 3 1 2

3

Cf. Sherwin-White, The Letters of Pliny, 2-3. Legras, REA 9. 347-8. Juvenal 7.82 ff. (see above, p. 7, n. 2). This craving is typical of mannerism: cf. Shearman, Mannerism, 44-5: 'Mannerism is based upon an obsession with a favourable audience-reaction, the stimulation of which is a more important part of the work's function than ever before.'

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

Such considerations must have exerted no little influence on his style and techniaue. , In some ways, there are resemblances between Catullus and Statius. This is as we should expect, for both are parts of an organic literary tradition. Both were highly conscious craftsmen-poets, seeking by means of a contrived artistry to achieve refined aesthetic effects in language, metre, imagery. Both were members of a poetic coterie; the coterie is the natural habitat of poets. Maternus, in Tacitus' Dialogu.s, was right to mention' illud felix contubernium' as one of the advantages enjoyed by a poet. 1 There are, however, obvious and radical differences between the neoteric groups and the coteries gathered round Maecenas, Pollio and Messalla in the Augustan age; the gulf is still greater when we reach the reign of Domitian and of the rich patroni who commissioned the SilYae. The system of patronage had declined under monarchical government. By the reign of Nero, the name of Maecenas had already become a symbol of munificence, his proteges a legend of artistic greatness. C. Calpurnius Pisa, who fell victim to N era's wrath in 65, sought, in his protection of poets, to model himself on Maecenas. 2 In the same period, Persius lambasted the degrading corruptions of literary patronage. 3 The Augustan form of patronage as surely gave birth to later and more repressive forms as the principate of Augustus evolved into the tyranny of Nero and Domitian. Statius' situation was different from that of Tacitus' Maternus, who resembles more closely the recipients of the Silvae. 4 Maternus' lofty and idealistic attitude to the poetic art could only be held by one who was free of financial worries. In Statius' day there was no single individual to rival in his patronage of the arts either Maecenas or Calpurnius Pisa. There may have been dangers in too generous a promotion of writers under the brooding eye of a despot. Statius, like Martial, wrote for a group of patrons and friends, and from the Silvae it is possible to glean a good deal of information about them. The background that emerges is strikingly different from that of the neoterics and the Augustans, but sharing common traditions - traditions in some ways corrupted, a parody rather than an imitation of what went before. Statius knew how to flatter and 1 2

3

4

Tacitus, Dial. 13. See Laus Pisonis 230-45 and 247-8: 'memorabilis olim/tu [Piso] mihi Maecenas'; on the identity of Piso, cf. Verdiere's edition, 47-9 and Seel, Laus Pisonis, 118-23. Persius, Sat. 1, esp. 30 ff. On Statius' social position, see the sensible comments of Mendell, Latin Poetry: the Age of Rhetoric, 109-10.

16

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

did not hesitate to do so. To his patrons, he is eager to attribute outstanding talents, generosity, taste and achievements. A modern reader may find the servile attitude which Statius is prepared to adopt towards these men frigid or distasteful. But the poet was not in the happy position of a wealthy man deliberately choosing to cultivate the Muses in the midst of plenty. This fact separates him from Seneca, Persius and Lucan, from Silius, Q_yintilian, Pliny, Tacitus and, most probably, from Valerius. 1 Statius' position is more closely analogous to that of Horace, and there are times when we cannot help feeling that Horace's deference to his patrons is a little less than dignified. The degeneration of patronage, as has been remarked, was angrily condemned by Persius. No one is likely to forget his picture of those 'Romulidae saturi ', asking, at the end of a banquet, 'quid dia poemata narrent'. 2 In Domitian's day, the embittered Martial yearned for a Maecenas and complained that 'vix tres aut quattuor' of Rome's Virgils and Ovids found a patron willing to preserve them from starvation. 3 Juvenal later laboured the theme with equal astringency. 4 It would, of course, be wrong to take the remarks of the satirists at their face value, but some element of truth underlay their strictures. Patronage provided Statius with the only framework within which he could work. There were better sides to the institution, and not all patroni were boors. 5 Statius does not envisage himself as a mere cliens and never uses the word patron. 6 None of his published poems are pure panegyrics of the type addressed to Maecenas, Messalla, Calpurnius Pisa. In the Silvae, the patrons are termed friends, not masters. There is no reason to doubt that Statius enjoyed a position of respect, even equality, among those wealthy men for whom he willingly wrote his occasional poems. Beneath the flattery, we can often detect a feeling of real intimacy and genuine affection. To some extent it is undeniable that Statius was a victim of the system of patronage; it is to his credit that he also transcended it, apparently no less as a man than as an artist. It is profitable to examine in greater detail the identity and characteristics of Statius' patrons. The first book of the Silvae is dedicated to r On Qyintilian's wealth, cf. Juvenal 7.186-9 (for this and other subacid comments on

Qyintilian in the Satires, see Anderson, YCS 17.3-87). On Valerius, Butler, PostAugustan Poetry, 180. 3 Martial 1.107, 3.38. 2 Persius 1.31. 4 Juvenal 7, esp. 17 ff., 36 ff., 94 ff.: cf. Highet, Juvenal, 106 ff. s Cf. the remarks of John Buxton, a propos of the Elizabethan patrons, in Sir Philip Sidney and the English Renaissance2 (London, 1964) chapter 1, esp. at 2-3. 6 Cf. Marastoni, Aevum 32.3-6.

17

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

L. Arruntius Stella and the second poem in the collection is an epithalamium addressed to him upon his marriage with Violentilla. Stella may be taken as typical of the men who commissioned Statius' poems. A man of wealth and rank, he was a poet himself. 1 Statius lauds him highly for his poetic gifts. In the preface to book 1, he addresses Stella as 'iuvenis op time et in studiis nostris eminentissime, qua parte voluisti '. He also calls him his collega, that is, a fellow member of the brotherhood of poets, and carissi'mus, a personal friend. In the wedding-poem, Stella is consistently portrayed as a dedicated votary of the Muses. In line 33, he is apostrophised as' dulcis vates' (cf. 225 ff.) and in 96 ff. the epithet is explained. Statius creates a mythological extravaganza set on Olympus to explain how the marriage came about. One of the throng of Cupids is pictured as telling Venus that, although Stella was capable of writing poems on epic themes, he nonetheless preferred to compose amatory works under her patronage. The idea is conventional, looking back to the Propertian and Ovidian form of the recusatio, 2 which Stella may have imitated in his own elegiacs. Venus, in her two speeches, acknowledges Stella's great talents, referring to him as' Pierius iuvenis' (w7) and asking Violentilla3 docta per urbem carmina qui iuvenes, quae non didicere puellae?

Later in the poem, Statius refers to his friend's elegiac collection Asteris (which, no doubt, included the poem on Violentilla's dove mentioned at I02 and by Martial4): these poems were 'totam clamata per urbem' (197 ff.). 5 At 257 ff., Statius mentions that he has been inspired to compose his poem because Stella's Muse was linked to his own: multumque pares bacchamur ad aram, et sociam doctis haurimus ab amnibus undam. 1

2

3

4 5

For Stella, see PIR I. 227-8; RE n.i.1265-6; Syme, Tacitus, 83n, 88, 97, 620n; on his relations with Statius, Arico, Aevum 39.345-7. Cf. Wimmel, Kallimachos in Rom, for a comprehensive treatment of the theme (on Statius, 316 ff.). Silvae I. 2. 172-3; the epithet docta establishes Stella as an elegist in the tradition of Propertius and Ovid; the verb didicere may well suggest that he, like his Augustan predecessors (but particularly Ovid), posed as a praeceptor amoris. Martial 1. 7. C±~Amores 1.15.7-8 where Ovid expresses hls ambition: 'in toto semper ut orbe canar' (balanced by his allusion to Callimachus at 13-14: 'Battiades semper toto cantahitur orhe / quamvis ingenio non valet, arte valet' - Ovid hints that, like Propertius (4.1.64), he is a 'Roman us Callimachus '): Statius is suggesting that Stella is the Ovid of Domitian's Rome, iust as he is the new Virgil.

18

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

Both Stella and Statius are 'docti poetae', confreres in their high devotion to the poet's calling. As Stella was principally an elegiac poet, it is natural that Statius should include 'petulans Elegea' among the presiding deities of his poem - and show her, rather grotesquely, trying to pass herself off as Tenth Muse, a position normally occupied by Minerva.1 Later, Statius calls on the poets to honour the day: praecipui qui carmine gressu extremo fraudatis opus, (250-1) and intimates that the elegists Philitas, Callimachus, Propertius, Ovid and Tibullus 'ambissent laudare diem'. As Statius wished to be regarded as legitimate heir of the great epic writers, so he salutes Stella as successor to the masters in the elegiac canon. 2 It is a pity that not a line of Stella's elegiacs has survived. It would be pleasant to know how he handled the situations and motifs that he inherited from his predecessors. So much for Stella the poet. His other qualities do not go unnoticed. As bridegroom, Stella possesses the advantages of patrician birth (70-3), physical beauty (172) and the prospect of recognition for his military exploits in Dacia (180) and of progressing to the highest civil honours (175 ff.) by favour of the emperor himself. Stella was, as is revealed in 176-'7, a XV vir sacris faciundis by the time of his marriage in about 89. He may well have been praetor in 93, when he organised games to celebrate Domitian's Sarmatic victory (cf. Martial 8.78). But for the fulfilment of Statius' prophecy he had to wait until the reign of Trajan: he was suffect consul with L. Julius Marinus, probably in 102. Nor is his bride ignored. The picture that emerges from the epithalamium well attunes with what was said of Stella: Violentilla came of distinguished stock (108). Like Statius himself, she is of Neapolitan origin (261); she is endowed with wealth (121) and can boast an intellect in every way equal to her outstanding beauty (122). Exuberant and far-fetched language is used to stress her universal perfections. The picture of the couple is flawless: but scarcely realistic. We have access to more credible details; Martial also knew Stella well, and the references he makes to him are on a much less elevated plane. 3 The resources Pallas as tenth Muse: Silvae 1.4.20; 1.6.1. On the canons, cf. Luck, Comp. Lit. 10.150-80; Latin Love Elegy, 24; Vessey, PVS 9.69. 3 See, esp., Martial 1.7; 5.11, 12; 6.21, with the remarks of Vessey, Mnem. 25. 181-2. 1

2

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

of mannerism are drained in Sifyae 1 .2 to idealise and eulogise the bride and groom, although they do not disappear altogether under the weight. The poem itself is one of Statius' best, and found many imitators in later days. 1 In the preface to book 1, Statius also mentions P. Manilius Vopiscus, terming him 'vir eruditissimus et qui praecipue vindicat a situ litteras iam paene fugientes '. In describing his luxurious Tiburtine villa (Silv. 1.3), Statius hastens to remind us that Vopiscus is facundus, a quality necessary to any cultured Roman, the end and pinnacle of his entire education. In his superb home, Vopiscus is able to enjoy the life of a rich Epicurean, aided by fecunda quies virtusque serena fronte gravis sanusque nitor luxuque carentes deliciae, quas ipse suis digressus Athenis mallet deserto senior Gargettius horto. (91-4)

Only the rich can afford to glory in their avoidance of luxury, but Vopiscus had pretensions to culture as well as philosophy: we are told that he is himself a poet, lesser perhaps than Horace,2 but nonetheless able to write lyric, epic, satire and epistles with skill (101 ff.). His life of' Pieriosque dies et habentes carmina somnos' (23) may therefore be rightly termed 'docta otia' (108-9). Of a different type was C. Rutilius Gallicus, whose restoration to health was celebrated in 1.4. He was a man of great distinction in public life, who had held high military and civil office.3 Urban praetor, praefectus urhi, twice consul, he was in every way worthy to be the servant of so great an emperor (4 ff.). Statius adds that he was fit to be invoked as a Muse,4 endowed with 'docto ... numine' (23), which enabled him to give' Ausoniae decora ampla togae' and wise judgment in the centumviral court (24 ff.) - no mean task under Domitian's watchful eye. 5 So great was Gallicus' 'dulcis facundia' that he was able r Cf. Pavlovskis, CP 60.164 ff., for the influence of the epithalamion in later Latin literature. 2 Silvae 1.3.100: the 'maior lyra' may, however, be Virgil. Vopiscus' son, P. Manilius Vopiscus Vicinillianus, was cos. ord. in II4 (P IR 1, 328). 3 Cf. PIR u, 148-9; Silvae 1.4.8off.; Juvenal 13.157. 4 This type of remark is virtually a topos in the Silvae: cf. Curtius, European Literature, 233: 'Statius clings to the Muses in epic, but in his occasional poems he takes pains to find substitutes for the invocation of the Muses. He becomes a mannered specialist in these substitute forms.' Cf. 1.5.1 ff., 6.1 ff.; 2.3.6-7; 5.3.1 ff. s On Domitian's concern for justice, Suet. Dom. 8. 20

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

to excel in both prose and verse (27 ff.); Statius urges him not to despise poetry: nee tu, quando tibi, Gallice, maius eloquium, fandique opibus sublimis abundas sperne coli tenuiore lyra (34-6)

The contrast between public life and poetry in these lines reminds us of the debate between Aper and Maternus in Tacitus' Dialogus; 1 we shall see it again. When Statius addresses one who is 'clarus et ingens eloquio' (71-2) like Gallicus, there is no option but to extol the statesman's life. Of Claudius Etruscus, it is not necessary to say much. A freedman's son, he had been admitted into the equestrian order some years earlier. His 'ni tens ingenium ', his wealth, his artistic tastes are commemorated by both Statius and Martial. 2 In lauding his bath-house, Statius says that he will turn for a moment from work on the Thehaid to a lighter task for the sake of his 'dilectus sodalis' (1.5.8-9). Book 2 of the Silvae was dedicated to Atedius Melior; in the preface Statius addresses him as 'vir optime nee minus in iudicio litterarum quam in omni colore tersissimus '; both Martial and Statius term him' nitidus' and the former respectfully acknowledges his generosity in the interests of culture. 3 It is not, therefore, surprising that both poets wrote consolatory verses when Melior's twelve-year-old slave died.4 Statius lost no time in sending his offering; he apologises for the speed with which he dispatched it (Silvae 2 praef.) and voices a fear that his poem may have been written out of season (2.1.8). He does not fail to praise the boy's academic precocity: 'Thalia lasciva' herself had rejoiced to hear the lad declaim Menander; when he read the Iliad and Odyssey 'ipse pater sensus ipsi stupuere magistri' (113 ff.). Martial, with more becoming brevity, described him as 'velox ingenio' (6.28.7). Melior plainly appreciated epigrams. Statius included in book 2 two poems, one about a tree and one about a parrot belonging to his patron; he categorised r Tacitus, Dial. 3 ff.: see below, pp. 23-5. 2

3

Silvae 1.5, 3.3; Martial 6.83, cf. 6.42; for Claudius Etruscus' background, see Weaver, CQ 15.145-54. Martial 9.19 may be mentioned here: it is an epigram about a poetaster who celebrates the halneum of a wealthy patron who also gives good dinners: 'vis cenare, Sabelle, non lavari': it is tempting to agree with Curcio, Studio su Staz.io, 84-5, that Martial had Statius in mind, in view of Silvae 1.5 (on Claudius Etruscus' bathhouse). Silvae 2.3.1; Martial 4.54.8: Martial 8.38 mentions Melior's munificent gift to the 'turba scribarum' in honour of his deceased friend Blaesus, who is also mentioned by Statius: 4 Silvae 2.1; Martial 6.28, 29. Silvae 2.1.191, 201; 2.3.77. 21

THE

'sILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

them as 'leves libellos quasi epigrammatis loco scriptos '. He could hardly hope to rival Martial (who was cultivating Melior's favour) in this field. The epicedium for the parrot is pleasing enough: there is an amusing hint of irony when the poet summons the 'doctae aves' to mourn (2.4.16): the urbane learning of Statius' friends is assimilated even by their pets. Well might Melior mourn his loss. 1 In the second book of Silvae, we first make the acquaintance of Pollius Felix. In a poem written with especial skill and care 'in honorem eloquentiae' (2 praef.), Statius gives a striking account of Pollius' splendid villa at Surrentum. The poet early reminds us of his patron's facundia (2.2.9); at his home, Pollius, like Vopiscus, is able to pursue an elegant Epicureanism, avoiding all the troubles that beset the 'vilis turba' and looking with amused disdain on 'humana gaudia' (113, 129 ff.). In his idyllic retreat, Pollius cultivates 'Pierias artes' (112) by composing epic, elegy, satire (114-15). Statius dedicated his third book to this wise and learned gentleman, courteously acknowledging that Pollius, amid his quiet life, had found time to encourage his writing and to offer constructive criticisms. 2 Statius was a guest at his villa, near which Pollius had erected a temple of Hercules (commemorated in 3.1): facundique larem Polli non hospes habeham, adsidue moresque viri pacemque novosque Pieridum flares intactaque carmina discens. (65-7)

Pollius' wife is also the subject of euphoric praise (2.2.143 ff.) and his son-in-law, Julius Menecrates, a 'splendidus iuvenis', was the recipient of a genethliacon (Silv. 4.8). Local connexions helped Statius in gaining the intimacy of this wealthy family - they were, like him, Neapolitans. It may be that Menecrates was a pupil at the school of Statius' father.3 It is not forgotten that Violentilla was also from the poet's hometown. Nor should we overlook Flavius Ursus, 'iuvenem candidissimum et sine iactura desidiae doctissimum', cultured, wealthy, eloquent, but unfortunate enough to be bereaved of his puer delicatus.4 Vitorius Marcellus is the dedicatee of the fourth book of the Silvae, 1

The parrot poem is rightly termed by Mozley, Statius (LCL) r, 113, 'a kind of parody of Statius' own Epicedia'. Its model is to be found in Ovid, Amores 2.6. Cf. Colton, CB 43.7 1 -8.

2

3

4

Silvae 3, praef.: a laboured and somewhat obscure tribute to Pollius' talents ends with a compliment to his learning and facundia. On 2.2, cf. Cancik, AU u.62-75; for the Surrentine villa, cf. also D' Arms, Romans on the Bay of Naples, 220-2. See too SherwinWhite, Letters of Pliny, 186-7 on Pliny 2.17. On the school, see below, pp. 'i 1-2. Silvae 2, praef.; 2.6; on Ursus' wealth, 60 ff.; on his eloquence, 9 5-6. 22

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

and is the recipient of a poetic epistula within it (4.4). At the end of the preface Statius expresses the hope that Marcellus will champion his latest collection against unjust criticism. Such a defender would be useful. Marcellus emerges as a man of discernment, as well as considerable importance in public life,1 a fine orator, ambitious for higher preferment. He was clearly an enthusiastic patron of literature: to the same Marcellus Q!Jintilian dedicated his lnstitutio, to be used, perhaps, in the education of his son Vitorius Hosidius Geta. 2 The esteem which the rhetor felt for his patron is summed up by his words describing him: 'cum amicissimum nobis tum eximio litterarum amore flagrantem'. 3 Marcellus used his oratorical talent to good effect in the centumviral court, but he did not attempt poetry. Statius apostrophises him: felix curarum, cui non Heliconia cordi serta nee imbelles Parnasi e vertice laurus sed viget ingenium et magnos accinctus in usus fert animus quascumque vices (4-4-46-9)

To the humbler Statius, it is left only to occupy his 'otia vitae' with verse, seeking 'ventosa gaudia famae' (49-50). Again the arguments of the Dialogus come to mind, and again Statius is compelled to bow to the superiority of the active life over poetic otium. The comparison between the life of orator and poet is a natural one in a society which regarded poetry as essentially an occupation for periods of otium and where oratorical efficiency and involvement in public life were traditionally held to be a man's highest vocation.4 Statius is aware that the poet's rewards are hard won and often short-lived; Aper laboured the same point to Maternus and his view may be summarised in the pithy words' mediocres poetas nemo novit, bonos pauci.'S Even worse, Aper maintains, the poet must abandon the city and withdraw to solitude: 'relinquenda conversatio amicorum et iucunditas urbis, deserenda cetera officia utque ipsi dicunt, id est in solitudinem secedendum est.' 6 Such otium, which might aptly be termed ignohile,7 was something which any man of oratorical talent should despise. It is the old Roman view, expressed ironically by the introspective Catullus :8 'otium et reges On Marcellus, PIR 3.445; Vessey, AC 39.507-8; on Silvae 4.4, cf. Lockwood, in Ut pictura poesis, 107-u. _ 2 Qyintilian I praef. 6; cf., on Geta, Silvae 4-4-70 ff. J Qyintilian I praef. 6; other references to Marcellus at 4praef. 6; 11.praef.; 12.11. 31. 4 On otium and poetry, cf. Frankel, Ovid, 9-10; Boucher, Et. sur Properce, 1 5 ff. 6 Ibid. 9. 7 Cf. Virgil, Georg. 4.564. s Tacitus, Dial. 10. s Catullus 51.14-1 5: on the interpretation of the final stanza, cf., esp., F redericksmeyer, TAPA 96.153-63; Frank, TAPA 99.233-9. 1

23

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

prius et beatas / perdidit urbes.' And yet Marcellus is not uninterested in Statius' labours: later in the epistula (87 ff.), Statius informs him that, the Thebaid completed, he is commencing an Achilleid - though adding, in the too familiar recusatio, that Domitian's martial exploits would be a more fitting subject. A slightly different line is taken in the polished alcaic ode addressed to Marcellus' condiscipulus, Septimius Severns (4.5). 1 This Septimius was, in common with so many of Statius' patrons, something of a poetaster and, at the end of the poem, he is urged to strike up again his 'latentem barbiton' (59-60). The words appear to imply the composition of odes in the Horatian manner, which explains Statius' own unusual choice of a lyric metre. But his patron's chief talent lay not in verse but in oratory. Statius is quick to term him 'fortem et facundum' (2), but he is fond of 'rura et quies' (53 ff.), which provides him with the opportunity of spending some of his time in making verses. Such an occupation is only for his leisure; far more important is his eloquium (50). The poet merely expresses the hope that Septimius, when in the country (enjoying the solitudo, the quies et securitas conventionally associated with the poet's lifo)2 will take some time off from compositions in prose for the writing of verse. Although Septimius was an orator of talent, he does not seem to have shared his friend Marcellus' political aspirations. His preference for bucolic peace no doubt implies that he, like Vopiscus and Pollius, was an Epicurean or at least adopted an Epicurean pose.3 The pattern that emerges in considering these men is clear. It is stylised; within the changed political climate of the Flavian era it looks back distantly to the republican piscinarii, such as Hortensius and the Luculli, who 'secluded like indolent monsters in their parks and villas ... pondered at ease upon the quiet doctrines of Epicurus and confirmed from their own careers the folly of ambition, the vanity of virtue'.4 By Statius' day, the Epicurean stance had become conventionalised, far from the rigorism of Lucretius, the asceticism of Epicurus himself; otium, pax, quies, only to be attained, in reality, by the rich in their gilded retreats, kept their association with dilettantism in art and literature. Although public life was still nominally considered the proper pursuit, much of 1

2 3

4

For a discussion of the ode, see Vessey, AC 39.507-18. For the view that Septimius was the grandfather of the Emperor Severns, cf. Birley, Septimius Severus, 3 5-9. Tacitus, Dial. 10, 12. On 'retirement' under the Empire, cf. Festugiere, Personal Religion, 59 ff.; Seneca, Ep. 19 and De otio. Syme, Roman Revolution, 23.

24

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

the opprobrium attached to the life of studied otium had disappeared. 1 Both Aper and Maternus were able plausibly to justify their positions; there was room for Vitorius and for Septimius. The latter, from his youth content with equestrian rank (41-2), was a fine orator; his eloquium, however, was not yenale; he used it only on behalf of his friends. Apart from that, as befitted an Epicurean, Septimius allowed his talent to enjoy the quies that formed the basis of his own way of life: 'ensisque vagina quiescit, / stringere ni iubeant amici' (51-2). Septimius preferred the country and literary pursuits. His friend Marcellus had sought political advancement, curule office. In writing for them, Statius reveals a slight but perceptible double standard. One view sprang from a traditional Roman attitude, the other from present realities. Public life was not what it had once been, and Statius was dependent on his patrons. Septimius, the rich dilettante from Leptis Magna (29 ff.), took a friendly interest in Statius' career (25 ff.) and the poet is pleased to claim him as a sodalis. The same may be said for C. Vibius Maximus, a man truly of' high estimation in Roman society'. 2 His career in the imperial service was prospering under Domitian, and continued in the reigns of Nerva and Trajan. Finally he obtained the supreme honour for an equestrian - the prefecture of Egypt, which he held from 103 until his disgrace in 107. But that was in the future. Statius acclaims him as a man of notable talent (SilY. 4 praef.), and in a sapphic ode acknowledges his valuable guidance during the composition of the Thebaid. Vibius was composing a historical handbook, and it was to him that Statius addressed the epistula that accompanied the publication of his chef d'oeuvre. 3 Clearly Vibius was a man of culture as well as wealth. Martial too found him worth pursuing.4 A more shadowy figure is Plotius Grypus, to whom some jesting hendecasyllables are addressed (SilY. 4.9). He may well have been the son of the consul of 88.5 Statius bears witness to his oratorical skill, which brought him some public recognition (17 ff.), and to his literary tastes: he had sent the poet a 'libellum pro libello' (1-2) and Statius anticipates hendecasyllables in return for his. N ovius Vindex, an opulent collector of objets d'art, is similarly said to have appreciated r Cf. Curtius, European Literatu·re, 305. Syme, Historia 6.48o-'7 at 487: this article provides a thorough survey ofVibius' career. 3 Silvae 4 praef: 'Maximum Vibium et dignitatis et eloquentiae nomine a nob is diligi satis eram testatus epistola, quam ad ilium de editione Thebaidos meae publicavi'; 4.7.53-6 on his epitome of Sallust and Livy. Cf. Janson, Latin Prose Prefaces, 109. 5 Cf. PIR 3.53. 4 Martial 11.106. 2

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

poetry and to have been a good judge of it. Statius sat up all night with him on one occasion, engaged in 'medio Helicone petitus / sermo hilaresque ioci' (SilY. 4.6.12-13). He sang for his supper: the old-world morals and poetic talents of this dilettante come in for enthusiastic panegyric (90 ff., 99 ff.). There was no one like Novi us for picking out an authentic masterpiece (22 ff.) - Martial, like Statius, was called in to praise a statuette of Hercules belonging to him and reputedly a genuine production of Lysippus. 1 We may sourly entertain a sneaking suspicion as to its provenance, but it cannot be denied that Statius' breathless ecphrasis brings it vividly to life. M. Maecius Celer began his public cursus under Domitian and completed it with a suffect consulship in 101. To Statius, he appeared as a 'splendidissimum et mihi iucundissimum iuvenem' and he was the recipient of a somewhat frigid valedictory poem on his depature to assume a military position in Syria at the emperor's command (Silv. 3.2). The fifth book contains a lengthy eulogy, aptly interspiced with wholesome counsel, for the young Vettius Crispinus, who was honoured with a military tribunate at the age of sixteen (5.2). His father, Vettius Bolanus, had been an eminent public figure, serving under Corbulo in Armenia, achieving the consulship and acting as legatus pro praetore in Britain for a time. 2 This last appointment had been made by Vitellius; Vespasian continued to extend imperial favour, and Vertius became a proconsul for Asia under him, as well, it appears, as being adlected into the patriciate (Silv. 5.2.57, 28). He died while his twin sons were still children; their mother preferred the elder boy and had attempted to poison Crispinus (77 ff.). The monstrous crime was fortunately averted. Even at his tender age, Crispinus had made a praiseworthy appearance in court in support of a friend (99 ff.). Whether the paragon fulfilled the hopes that Domitian entertained for him is unknown. His brother, M. Vettius Bolanus, was consul with C. Calpumius Piso in Irr. Two other patrons were even more intimately connected with the emperor. Flavius Earinus was a eunuch from Pergamum, freed by Domitian; the poem of which he is the subject will be examined in detail later in the chapter.3 A more significant person was Flavius Abascantus, the emperor's libertus ab epistulis. When his wife Priscilla died, he no doubt found Statius' extensive epicedium a great comfort 1 2

3

Martial 7.72, 9.43, 44. Cf. PIR 3.411-12; Tacitus, Ann. 15.3; Hist. 2.65, 97; Agric. 8, 16. Below, pp. 28-36.

PATRONS

AND

FRIENDS

(Silv. 5.1). Attached to the poem is a letter reminding Abascantus that Priscilla had been a close friend of Statius' own wife and stressing the poet's loyalty to the imperial house and its servants. This letter is wrongly regarded as a preface to the fifth book of Silvae. 1 The greatest of all patrons was of course the divine emperor himself. Several of the Silvae are devoted to extolling him and his works and he extended to their author certain marks of favour. 2 In writing about him, it was simply impossible to say too much; at times Statius became almost frenzied in his efforts to please without familiarity, to flatter without ambiguity, to worship without irreverence. The picture that emerges from our investigations is clear. Statius' patrons were men of influence and wealth, either actively engaged in the imperial service or in a life of comfortable and affiuent leisure. Cultured and critical dilettantes, many of them toyed with the art of poetry, dabbled in philosophy and spent their wealth in creating or acquiring objects of beauty. It is impossible not to think of the younger Pliny with his villas and pathetic pride in his versification.3 To such men, Statius was obliged to pay his respects for the sake of reward and encouragement. His patroni were proud of their culture, their eloquence, their urbanity. Docti, nitidi, facundi - the epithets are familiar, and ominous. It is not difficult to see that Statius was working in a literary hothouse, and it was inevitable that the sultry atmosphere should produce exotic blooms. To impress such men, Statius had to show them the depth of his doctrina, the originality of his facundia: his style had to gleam and scintillate with all the coruscations of rhetoric and the jewels of Art - to reflect in words the lavish and gorgeous surroundings in which these privileged denizens of imperial society passed their lives. Mannerism was the predictable outgrowth of such a background. Doctri'na is a dangerous quality to prize: some of the problems that hamper modern appreciation of the Silvae and Thebaid are not dissimilar to those presented by Catullus in his longer poems4 or by Propertius in some of his elegies 5 - but the intervening period, with its profound social changes, as well as the continued rise of rhetorical education and its assumptions, has intensified and hardened certain Cf. Vessey, CB 46.51; Smith, CP 65.206. At Silvae 3.1.61-4, Statius mentions that the 'magnus dux' had arranged for water to be supplied to his paternal estate at Alba. Cf. also Silvae 4.1 on the banquet given by Domitian, to which Statius was invited. 3 Cf. Pliny, Ep. 4.14; 5.3, 15; 7.4, 9· 4 Cf. Havelock, Lyric Genius of Catullus, 77-8; Fordyce, Catullus, xx-xxii. s Cf. the remarks of Mozley in the Introduction to the LCL Statius, 1, xx. 1

2

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

attitudes present in the earlier docti poetae, while sacrificing the air of spontaneity and enthusiasm which tempered their doctrina. To Statius fell the somewhat thankless task of pleasing his epuise patrons and of raising applause from audiences who looked for novelty to whet palates blunted by recitations from 'summo minimoque poeta '. 1 Statius strove too hard for effect; but unlike so many mannerists he succeeded in his aim more often than he descended into bathos, grotesquerie or wilful obscurity. In seeing his faults, we must not overlook his triumphs. T,~e locks of Earinus To sense more fully the nature of Domitian's court and the demands it made on a poet there could be no better guide than Silvae 3.4, the verses written on the tresses of Flavius Earinus. In 1909, H. E. Butler commented as follows on this poem: 2 The poem on the emperor's sexless favourite, Earinus, can scarcely be quoted here. Without being definitely coarse, it succeeds in being one of the most disgusting productions in the whole range of literature. The emperor who can accept flattery of such a kind has certainly qualified for assassination.

Strong words indeed: and it can hardly be disputed that the theme of the poem is bizarre and unlikely to have an immediate appeal to modern man. It may be that Statius himself did not find the subject enticing, but the emperor was not to be flouted on such a matter. Martial also did not hesitate to deal with the same theme in three epigrams of his ninth book.3 Earinus was a youthful eunuch dear to the heart of the dominus et deus.4 He had been born in Pergamum and it was to the famous temple of Asclepius in that city that he decided to send his capilli as an offering. In the preface to the third book, Statius remarks on the genesis of the poem: 'Earinus praeterea, Germanici nostri libertus - scit quamdiu desiderium eius moratus sim, cum petisset ut capillos suos, quos cum gemmata pyxide et speculo ad Pergamenum Asclepium mittebat, versibus dedicarem.' It was the emperor himself who commissioned the work from Statius. The delay in fulfilling the imperial command which the poet mentions does not imply any diffidence in executing it, but is merely an expression of affected modesty, which stresses the fact that in composing verses for Domitian's eye special care 1

3

4

2 Juvenal r.14. Butler, Post-Augustan Poetry, 229. Martial 9.16, 17, 36. On Domitian's relationship with Earinus, cf. also, Dio 67.2.3.

THE

LOCKS

OF EARINUS

and preparation were necessary. All the same, the subject must have presented difficulties. There were two tricky problems for which Statius had to find solutions. Domitian was, as is well known, highly sensitive about his own baldness. According to Suetonius, he wrote a tract entitled De cura capillorum 1 with a dedication to a friend similarly disfigured, in which words of consolation were offered upon their common misfortune. Statius must, therefore, have asked himself how he was to write a poem on a theme which might easily have proved offensive to his sovereign. Second, Earinus was a eunuch and Domitian had issued an edict forbidding castration. 2 Here too was a factor that would require tact and discretion. The third book of Silvae contains only five poems. The first is devoted to the temple of Hercules erected at Surrentum by Pollius Felix. 3 The second was a propempticon for Maecius Celer upon his departure for the east. The third was a consolatio for Claudius Etruscus upon the death of his father. The fourth was the capilli-poem; the fifth a versified exhortation to Statius' wife urging her to agree to their retirement to Naples. That these poems are disposed in accordance with a plan is obvious.4 The consolatio, the longest and most serious of the pieces, occupied the central position. The verses for Pollius, to whom the whole book was dedicated, naturally enjoy first place; they are balanced by the ecloga ad uxorem. Pollius was an influential man in Naples and its environs, and in the preface Statius remarked that his proposed return to his birthplace would happily bring him into closer touch with his friend and benefactor. 5 Statius' enthusiastic descriptio of the Surrentine Herculeum, linked as it is with a laudation of Pollius and his wife, forms a natural complement to his eulogy of Naples in poem 5. Poems 2 and 4 are counterbalanced, for the capilli-poem is in part a kind of propempticon, since it wishes the tresses a safe voyage over the sea to Pergamum, just as in 4 Maecius is the recipient of greetings for his journey to the orient. The book, therefore, is neatly disposed round the central pivot of the solemn consolatio, while the principle of variety is also preserved. Poem 4 opens with five lines that clearly place it into relation with the propempticon form and which are similar in sentiment to the Dom. 18. Silv. 3.4.73-4; cf. Suetonius, Dom. 7; Martial 2.60, 6.2. 3 On Pollius, see above, p. 22. • On the arrangement of books 1, 2 and 4 see Cancik, Untersuchungen, 16-23. s Silv. 3. praef.: 'huic praecipue libello favebis, cum scias hanc destinationem quietis meae tibi maxime intendere meque non tarn in patriam quam ad te secedere.' 1

2

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

opening verses of 2. 1 Statius expresses his hope that the tresses will be brought to their destination in safety: ite, comae, facilemque precor transcurrite pontum, ite corona to recubantes molliter aura; ite, dabit cursus mitis Cytherea secundos placabitque notos, fors et de puppe timenda transferet inque sua ducet super aequora concha.

Statius speaks of the comae much as he might about a human traveller; the tresses are to face all the conventional dangers of a sea-voyage. The poet whimsically suggests that Venus will calm the sea and, perchance, offer an alternative method of transportation better suited to the precious cargo than an ordinary ship. It is at once apparent that there is to be no banausic realism in Statius' verses; the whole piece is to be set in a world of Alexandrian conceits as ornate as the jewelled box in which the tresses were reposing. Only by such fantasy could the outre theme be approached. After referring to the voyage of the capilli, Statius turns to their arrival at Pergamum: accipe laudatos, iuvenis Phoebeie, crines quos tibi Caesareus donat puer, acdpe laetus intonsoque ostende patri. sine dulce nitentes comparet atque diu fratris putet esse Lyaei. forsan et ipse comae nunquam labentis honorem praemete atque alio clusum tibi ponet in aura. (6-u)

Asclepius is apostrophised as 'iuvenis Phoebeius' to balance the description of Earinus as 'Caesareus puer'; the locks are to be shown to Apollo so that he can admire their exquisite lustre and for a time be deluded into supposing that they were shorn from the head of Bacchus. In dealing with the favourites of earthly deities, it is fitting to draw one's parallels from the celestial hierarchy: Apollo and Bacchus were traditionally known for the beauty of their unshorn hair. Indeed, Statius suggests, the only comae that would be suitable to repose next to Earinus' are those of Apollo himself - suitably and similarly encased in 1

Qyinn, Latin Explorations, 24m, has dismissed Statius' propempticon for Maecius as 'a protracted exercise on the conventional cliches with little personal involvement or thematic originality'; Williams, Tradition and Originality, 159, has disputed the existence of the propempticon as a poetic form, but the term may be conveniently preserved Statius knew and utilised earlier examples of poems written under such circumstances, which presented a fairly established pattern by his day.

30

THE

LOCKS

OF

EARINUS

gold. As the god had never cut his locks before (intonsus, 8), the implication is that Earinus is the first human being to have offered a real challenge to him in this respect. At this point, the capilli disappear from the poem. This is not surprising, for so narrow a theme could hardly be indefinitely prolonged. This was realised by Statius, and his method of circumventing the difficulty was greatly admired by Sidonius Apollinaris, who revelled in Statian mannerism. 1 Sidonius defended the length of one of his own descrzptiones by citing the example of some of the Silvae, among them the 'comae Flavii Earini ', saying 2 quas omnes descriptiones vir ille praeiudicatissimus non distichorum aut tetrastichorum stringit angustiis, sed potius, ut lyricus Flaccus in artis poeticae volumine praecipit, multis isdemque purpureis locorum communium pannis semel inchoatas materias decenter extendit. Statius beautified and decorated his occasional pieces with panni purpurei, which Sidonius found appropriate and praiseworthy; to Martial he left the task of mere distichs and tetrastichs. Sidonius' words embody the joy felt by a mannerist in logodaedaly and well-developed topoi. In treating a theme as basically jejune as that of Flavius Earinus' tresses there was, as Sidonius realised, no option but to incorporate ornamental material; by this means, Statius endeavoured to produce a graceful and imaginative poem. After line 11, Statius turned to the more serious task of eulogising Earinus and his master. The setting is, as usual in the Silvae, mythological.3 The first and most obvious parallel that occurred to Statius (as to Martial)4 was that of Ganymede; Pergamum, he asserts, can be regarded as more blessed (felicior) than Ida in giving birth to a boy to wait upon Domitian (12). Statius as often identifies Domitian with Jupiter;s he makes the further point that, whereas Juno suffered pangs of jealousy when she saw Ganymede in heaven, Domitian's consort had nothing but affection for Earinus: nempe dedit [Ida] superis quern turbida semper Iuno videt refugitque manum nectarque recusat: at tu [Pergamus] grata deis pulchroque insignis alumno 1

2

3

4

For Sidonius' debt to Statius, see Bitschofsky, De ... Sidonii studiis Statianis; on his mannerism, Curtius, European Lit., 279-80. Sidonius 22.5; cf. 9.226-9: 'non quod Papinius tuus meusque / inter Labdacios sonar furores / aut cum forte pedum minore rhythmo / pingit gemmea prata silvularum.' For the mythology in the Silvae, cf. the comments of Vessey, Mnem. 25.183-4. Martial 9.17.6. s Cf. Sauter, Rom. Kaiserkult, 54 ff. 31

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

misisti Latia, placida quern fronte ministrum Iuppiter Ausonius pariter Romanaque Iuno aspiciunt et uterque probant (14-19) The paths of flattery are ever fraught with hidden dangers. Domitian and Domitia are the early counterparts of Jupiter and Juno; Earinus is the Ganymede of the Roman Olympus. But Statius does not want any unfortunate conclusion to be drawn from too close an interpretation of his analogy: the imperial pair enjoy a harmony denied to their models in heaven. This may well have been the opposite of the truth; there is little reason to suppose that the emperor and his wife really lived a life of connubial concord. 1 An affirmation of such an untruth was probably opportune, masking a less idyllic reality. The poet continues: 'nee tanta potenti / terrarum domino divum sine mente voluptas' ( I 9-20 ). It was through the blessing of the gods that the Lord of the earth enjoyed the presence of his Ganymede. Statius proceeds to explain how this came about. The central portion of the poem is a mythological fantasia in which it is related how Venus was responsible for the events that made Earinus Domitian's slave. It is an example of the quasi-aetiological story of which Statius was fond. 2 He creates his own myth, hiding dull fact with gayer fantasy, hypostatising the banal with the dignity of legend. Venus, the poet recounts, one day visited Pergamum and there saw the baby Earinus. At first she mistakes him for one of her own offspring; but when she realises that he is of human parentage, she resolves that he will not endure a mean or unworthy servitude but will become the slave of Domitian himself. Earinus has become a creature of myth who enjoyed the patronage of the goddess Venus herself; the conceit follows naturally from his identification with Ganymede, from Domitian's status as terrene Jupiter. The little tale is told with grace and charm. It is introduced by the word dicitur, as a traditional myth might have been. The scene is depicted with graphic force and delicacy: dicitur Idalios Erycis de vertice lucos dum petit et molles agitat Venus aurea cycnos, Pergameas intrasse domos, ubi maximus aegris auxiliator adest et festinantia sistens fata salutifero mitis deus incubat angui. hie puerum egregiae praeclarum sidere formas ipsius ante dei ludentem conspicit aras. (21-7) 1 2

Cf. Suetonius, Dom. 22. See, e.g., the myth in Silvae r.2, discussed by Vessey, Mnem. 25.183-4; and in general, Szelest, Eos 56.195-7.

32

THE

LOCKS

OF EARINUS

These lines might be taken as an ecphrasis of a painting: they evoke in pictorial terms the imaginary occasion of Venus' visit to Pergamum, so that a painter might well illustrate it on the basis of the poet's words. Statius then turns to an analysis of the goddess' reaction on seeing the infant as he plays before the altar. 1 First, there is Venus' error: ac primum subita paulum decepta figura natorum de plebe putat; sed non erat illi arcus et ex umeris nullae fulgentibus umbrae.

(28-30)

The response to the loveliness of the baby is of course really internal, but it is expressed in purely visual terms. The goddess knows that Earinus is not a Cupid because he lacks the external signs that identify her sons. 2 Earinus is a Cupid - save that he lacks wings and quiver. The idea immediately provides Statius' readers with a visual point of reference - for they would all be familiar with representations of Cupidines in art. The goddess is stunned by the child's beauty, and this leads her to a resolve that she will save him from unhappiness: miratur puerile decus vultumque comasque aspiciens 'tune Ausonias' ait 'ibis ad arces, neglectus Veneri? tu sordida tecta iugumque servitii vulgare feres? procul absit: ego isti, quern meruit, formae dominum dabo. vade ego mecum, vade, puer: ducam volucri per sidera curru donum immane dud; nee te plebeia manebunt i ura : Pala tin o fam ul us deberis amori ... ' (3 1 -8)

In this fashion, Statius elaborates the idea that it is a high privilege to be a slave in the imperial household - a privilege, indeed, which the gods themselves consider a worthy gift to those whom they favour. Earinus' miraculous journey to Domitian's palace is precisely equivalent to Ganymede's ascent to Olympus. Venus makes it clear that she intervenes because the child is exceptionally lovely: 'nil ego, nil, fateor, toto tarn dulce sub orbe / aut vidi aut genui' (39-40). To illustrate the hyperbole, Venus turns to the 'Oberbietungsformel' (a device of which Statius was fond) :3 Endymion, Attis, Narcissus and Hylas will all be forced to yield place to the new paragon Earinus (40 ff.). The mythologicalexempla are not recherche; now that Earinus is so firmly integrated into the world of myth and has become the 1 2

Cf. Statius' description of the infant Opheltes, Theb. 4.786 ff. For the Alexandrian picture of Eros/Cupido, cf. Apollonius, Argon. 3.114 ff.; Propertius 2.12. J Cf. Curtius, European Lit., 162 with n. 65. 2

33

VST

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

servant of a praesens deus, they form the natural comparisons. 1 One further point Statius, in such a poem, could not overlook; Venus hastens to make it clear that Earinus is not the most beautiful person in the world: 'solus formosior ille, / cui daberis' (44-5). There is no yielding of Domitian's claim to paramount beauty; as a god, he must be cast in the mould of deity. The tale continues with a description of how Venus transported Earinus to Rome and introduced him to the imperial court. Once again the ecphrastic manner is utilised. The lines evoke two pictures: first of the chariot of Venus conveying the child to the hills of Rome (45-9), second of her preparing him to appear before Domitian (50--6).Within each cameo, Statius inserts a deft compliment to his sovereign. In line 49 he refers to the architectural improvements in Rome for which Domitian was responsible; 2 in 53-4, a second tribute is bestowed on the emperor's marriage - Venus herself had acted as pronuba at the wedding and had thus set a seal of divine approval on the union of incarnated deities :3 'norat caelestis oculos ducis ipsaque taedas / iunxerat et plena dederat conubia dextra.' We can now understand why, at the beginning of the poem, Venus should be thought to take an interest in the voyage of the tresses to Pergamum; she had brought Earinus to Rome and so would be concerned for the safety of his thank-offering. The two conceits balance each other. The myth is completed by a brief vision of Earinus fulfilling his duty as Ganymede in the palace (56-9), in which the language again affirms that Domitian's abode is a visible Olympus. This whole section of the poem may be regarded as an emhlema, the central decorative core around which the rest of the ideas group themselves. Its end is clearly indicated in line 60, when Statius launches into an apostrophe of Earinus and returns to the tresses. Earinus is a boy 'beloved of the gods' (.60), that is of both the gods in heaven and those in Rome. On him rests the privilege of offering nectar (not wine, we notice) to the hand of Domitian, whom the whole of humanity desires to acknowledge as master.4 To complete the picture of Earinus' 1

2 3

4

For Domitian as praesens deus, cf. Sauter, Rom. Kaiserkult, 51-4; it is noticeable that all the mythological figures to whom Statius likens Earinus here are, in addition to being symbols of beauty, also known for their tragic fates. This is suitable for a eunuch: note esp. 41-2 (on Narcissus): 'quemque irrita fontis imago/ et sterilis consumpsit amor'; cf. Catullus 63.69 where the self-emasculated Attis describes himself as 'vir sterilis'. Cf. Silvae I.I; Suetonius, Dom. 5. The occurrence of caelestis is a typical touch, asserting Domitian's godhead: cf. Scott, Imperial Cult, u4-15. Cf. 4.1.40 ff.

34

THE

LOCKS

OF

EARINUS

blessings, Statius invents a second, and less happy, myth. He could not ignore the fact that the boy had been castrated. To explain the unfortunate fact, he suggests that Asclepius himself had crossed the ocean to perform the operation, so that Earinus' beauty might never be marred (68-71); but, however skilful a surgeon the god may have been, Venus was still anxious about the safety of her protege (71-2). This ludicrous, if not degrading, conceit serves to introduce a flattering reference to Domitian's legislation forbidding castration (74-7). These verses must be some of the strangest in Western literature, and have, unquestionably, an effect hardly less than emetic upon a modern reader. It must, however, be added that Statius passes over the unpalatable theme as quickly as he can. The final portion of the poem (78-106) brings us back to the tresses. Earinus, if he had been born a little later so that he could benefit from Domitian's merciful edict, would by this time have been a iuvenis and able to send the first clipping of his beard as well as the capilli to Pergamum. As it was, the tresses had to suffice (78-82). They were, as one might predict, prepared by Venus and the Cupids, the latter shearing the hair from his head with their arrows, the former anointing it with unguent. 1 With the offering in its jewelled casket went a mirror on which the image ofEarinus had been for ever captured (93-8). 2 The formal ending of the poem is a prayer for Domitian put into the mouth of Earinus, in which he requests Asclepius to grant his master a long life (99-105). The god, with no prescience of the future assassination, accedes to his petition ( 106). Our survey of Silvae 3.4 reveals with stark clarity the difficulties that faced Statius in his relations with the imperial court, and the demands that Domitian's autocracy made on him. Statiuswas not merely called upon to flatter a monarch; he had to worship a deity in human guise. Throughout the Silvae, we find the cult of the emperor in an extreme form: the climate was oppressive and stifling. Statius conformed, but, as Peter Green has remarked, 'if the discreet literary trimmers of the Empire do not necessarily excite our admiration, at least they arouse our sympathy and pity' .3 Statius' poems to the emperor r Cf. Catullus 66.77-8, with Fordyce's note, 339, on the anointing of hair. 2

For a similar notion, see Sir John Davies, Orchestra ( 1596), stanzas 107-9, where Antinous shows Penelope a 'crystal mirror' with a representation of Queen Elizabeth I 'The fairest sight that ever shall be seen, / And the only wonder of posterity.' Statius' reference at 95-8 may refer to a folding portrait of Earinus, or to the idea of the magic mirror which, when sealed, preserves for ever the image of the last person to look into it 3 Green, Essays in Antiquity, 164. ('speculum reclusit imagine rapta', 98).

35

2-2

THE

'SIL VAE'

AND

ST ATIUS'

ART

present the obverse and darker side of Roman society in the reign of Domitian, to be contrasted with the serene and contented existence which he attributes to his patrons elsewhere in the Silvae. Behind the fai;:adelay a violent and vindictive despotism, ready to entrap and to destroy the unwary and the outspoken. This potential menace, which must have affected, at least subconsciously, all those close to the seat of power, may be seen reflected in the brutal savagery which dominates so much of the T hebaid. The prose prefaces To each of the first four books of the Silvae, Statius appended a preface in prose. By so doing, T. Janson has asserted, he 'creates a new type of preface for a collection of poetry'. 1 This may well be correct, and it is worth examining these prefaces more closely; they are of value in estimating Statius' literary beliefs and assumptions. As we have seen, the first book was dedicated to Arruntius Stella. Statius informs Stella that he has hesitated long before collecting together 'hos libellos, qui mihi subito calore et quadam festinandi voluptate fluxerunt'. By so doing, he is taking on the burden of another publication while he is still apprehensive about the reception of the Thebaid. He justifies his actions by exempla, citing the parallels of Virgil and Homer, comparing his Silvae to the Culex and Batrachomyomachia, adding that 'nee quisquam est inlustrium poetarum qui non aliquid operibus suis stilo remissiore praeluserit' .2 It is clear that Statius wishes to be classed with the 'illustres poetae' and, as an epic poet, his first loyalty is to Virgil and Homer. Since they were reputed to have published light-hearted works, Statius may follow their lead. He is not to be judged by the Silvae, any more that it would be fair to judge the great epic writers by their lesser efforts. The dichotomy between ingenium and ars is plainly in the back of his mind. In any case, he adds, many of the Silvae were already in the hands of those in whose honour they had been composed. But he has no doubt that critics will be less kind after formal publication, as the poems will have lost' solam gratiam celeritatis '.Ashe feared for his Thehaid, now he fears (timeo in both cases) that the minor poems themselves will reveal that none of them had taken longer than two days to compose, 1

2

Janson, Latin Prose Prefaces, 107-8. Apparent parallels between Statius' language here and that of Culex I ff. are not compelling, because the terms are purely conventional; cf. Wagenvoort, Studies in Roman Literature, 30 ff., on the vocabulary of the 'ludus poeticus' (which is to be traced back to the novi poetae) and Arico, Bollettino di studi latini, 2.223-5, for its use by Statius.

THE

PROSE

PREFACES

and that some were finished in a single day. In explaining this point, Statius goes into details. The first poem was on the subject of the equus maximus that had been dedicated by Domitian himself. Statius, as always, makes a tactful, if adulatory, bow towards the dominus et deus. He is a 'sacrosanctus testis' to the truth of the poet's assertion; what greater witness could be called in evidence? 'A love principium ', Statius remarks, implying the usual equation Domitian = Jupiter. Apart from his godlike attributes, the emperor is termed 'indulgentissimus', one aspect of his indulgentia being that he had commissioned the poet to supply him with the poem on the day after the statue had been dedicated; and so the obliging Statius had written a hundred hexameters in one day. 1 The poet envisages an objection: he might have seen the statue beforehand. To counter this, he calls other witnesses. 'Carissimus Stella' knows well enough that the epithalamium was written in only two days. 'Audacter mehercule', the poet comments, not without justification. 2 But critics might argue that Stella would be willing to tell a fib for his collega. Manilius Vopiscus, however, is accustomed - and without prompting - to take a vicarious pride in the fact that Statius' descriptio of his villa at Tibur was completed in a single day. Statius refuses to say how quickly his thank-offering for Rutilius Gallicus' temporary restitution to health was composed, for Gallicus was now dead, and so the poet might be suspected of falsifying the issue for his own benefit. But Claudius Etruscus may be summoned in evidence that the poem on his bath-house was written 'intra moram cenae'. Finally, Statius mentions the Kalendae Decembres: no one is likely to dispute that this had been written at speed. After a reference to the public jollifications that characterised this Saturnalia (financed by the emperor) there is a lacuna in the manuscripts. Some of Statius' readers have doubted the accuracy of these elaborate proofs. 3 Whether this is fair or not, it is abundantly clear that Statius wished the SilYae to be judged as mere trifles when compared with his great work the Thebaid. He is vitally concerned with the reception of 1. praef. 18 ff.: the reading of Klotz, 'tradere (est) iussum' is superior to Sandstrom's 'tradere ausus sum' (advocated by Hakanson, Statius' Silvae, 17-18: see Vessey, CP 76.275). z In the sentence following these-words, we should, with Marastoni, retain the reading of M: 'tantum tamen hexametros habet', which is better than Elter's 'ter centum tamen' (defended by Hakanson, op. cit., 18-19): Statius is alluding to the fact that Stella was an elegiac poet, implying, in friendly irony, that hexameters might appear less arduous than his colleague's chosen metre: Vessey, CB 46.54. J See, e.g., Traglia, Latinitas 12.7. 1

37

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

his poems and feels it necessary to apologise for extemporary works. There was an ingrained prejudice among docti poetae against too hasty or too fluent a Muse. Catullus had lambasted Suffenus for excessive poetic productivity which to him indicated an insensitive and humdrum approach to art. 1 Horace, in the Ars poetica, had advocated a long and rigorous process of revision and polishing before publication. 2 No criticism could be more damning than that of writing too much, too carelessly.3 Statius does his best to exculpate himself from such a charge, but it is also evident that he felt some pride in his own fluency. 4 In the case of the Thebaid, he had not spared himself; as to the Silvae, he is eager to excuse their weaknesses, to justify his temerity in making them public. The emphases in the preface to book 2 (dedicated to Atedius Melior) are somewhat different from those that have been traced in book I. Statius begins by asserting that he finds joy in his familiaritas with Melior, who is so astute a judge of literature. He is a natural choice for dedicatee in view of the contents of the book. Among the opuscula is the epicedium sent to Melior on the death of his slave-boy Glaucias; Statius expresses the hope that a reader will not 'asperiore lima carmen examinet', for it was 'a confuso scriptum'. We remember that Statius had been worried that the poem had been presented to Melior too soon after the lad's death; there was a risk that his celeritas might prove offensive. But such expressions of consolation, iflate, are' supervacua '. More care ought to have been taken in writing about Pollius' house at Surrentum in view of the recipient's eloquentia: 'sed amicus ignovit'. As to the two poems on Melior's parrot and Melior's tree, they are of little more significance than epigrams. 'Stili facilitas' was required in the verses on Domitian's tame lion, which were, indeed, presented to the sacratisszinus zinperator while he was actually in the amphitheatre. The collection includes another consolatio; this was the one written for Flavius Ursus on the death of his puer delicatus. The collection is concluded by the genethliacon for Lucan, written at the behest of the poet's widow, Argentaria Palla. Statius says of the work: 'ego non potui maiorem tanti auctoris habere reverentiam quam quod laudes eius dicturus hexametros meos timui.' He had, therefore, used hendecasyllables. Reverentia is the respect that an inferior feels for his master and so it is suitable for describing the avowed attitude of a poet to one 1 3

4

Catullus 22: cf. 14.17 ff. z Horace, Ars poetica 386-90. Cf., also, Juvenal, Satire 1.1-20. On Statius' idea of celeritas, cf. Arico, Bollettino di studi latini 2.221-3.

THE

PROSE

PREF ACES

whom he regards as miglior fahhro. Once again Statius shows concern about the reputation of his work; he feared (timui) that his hexameters might be considered inferior to Lucan's. At the end of the preface he tells Melior that he must decide if' haec qualiacumque sunt' are to be published or not. 1 The preface to book 3 continues the apologetic tone. The poet says that at least to' dulcissimus Pollius' he had no need to justify' libellorum istorum temeritatem ', for many of the poems had sprung to sudden birth under Pollius' watchful eye. Pollius had sometimes been alarmed by the audacia of Statius' work,2 when the poet, guided by his patron's facundia, had been led more deeply into literary pursuits and 'in omnes ... studiorum sinus'. For this reason Statius feels confident (securus) in dedicating his third collection of Silvae to Pollius, who had been a testis to the second and now added his authority by sponsoring the third. The pattern of the earlier prefaces is maintained by providing a list of the poems in the book. Apart from one written on the subject of the temple of Hercules built by Pollius at Surrentum, Statius included a variety of poems which we have listed earlier in this chapter.3 By the time that Statius dedicated book 4 to Marcellus, his Silvae had, apparently, met with some of the criticisms he had anticipated and he attempts to make a riposte. To support his arguments he includes three poems addressed to the maximus imperator. Other poems in the book are addressed to the various patrons to whom Statius renders compliments and thanks. The total is larger than in the three previous books. The reason for this increase in extent is to show that their author pays no heed to cavillers who have criticised him for publishing 'hoe stili genus'. He sets out some points of justification. First of all, it is a waste of time to grumble about a fait accompli; he falls back on the emperor's weighty authority. As several of these poems had been presented to dominus Caesar already, mere publication is relatively unimportant. If his critics suggest that such frivolous poems are suitable only for private readings, Statius replies that men do not scruple to watch trivial but amusing sports. The argument is similar to that in the first preface: the Silvae are merely jeux d'esprit and are to be judged as such. Finally .Statius grows a little testy: no one, he says, is compelled to read his poems; if anyone does so unwillingly, 'statim 1 2

J

On this prefatory topos, cf. Simon, AfD 5/6. 118-21. On this, cf. Vessey, CP 76.274. Pollius' alarm may have been prompted by Statius' daring use of language, or by the speed with which he composed his poems. See above, p. 29.

39

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

se profiteatur adversum'. 1 It is Statius who is traduced; as for the critic, 'taceat et gaudeat'. The arguments are hardly convincing, but they reveal Statius' intense concern for his work and his burning conviction of its merits, despite his customary and conventional diffidence. We do not know who these critics were, but it is tempting to believe that Martial was amongst them. 2 The letter which precedes book 5 is not in fact a dedication of the whole collection. It is, as has been noted, a preface only to the first poem of the book, the epicedium written for Abascantus. This fact supports the notion that book 5 was put together posthumously. 'To Statius, the use of the preface is purely utilitarian', Zoja Pavlovskis has written.3 From our analysis of the four true dedications, we can see that this is so. But the uses to which they are put are several. First, by addressing them to distinguished patrons, Statius hoped for protection and reward: and at all times he is eager to claim personal friendship with and affection for his patroni. He is enabled to make passing and deferential references to their talents. In particular, he is able to draw attention to the fact that he enjoys the emperor's personal favour and patronage. Second, the prefaces served as a list of contents, presumably to avoid omissions, re-arrangements or additions at a later date. Third, they provide an opportunity for brief literary discussion and comment, especially of an apologetic kind. The character of the Silvae, the circumstances that gave them birth, their artistic purpose and limitations are specified in the face of actual as well as potential criticism. Statius, as a professional rather than a dilettante poet, was no doubt especially sensitive to such attacks on his work. He could not make his defence in verse, for material of such a kind could not have been integrated with the other poems that are included in the Silvae. And so Statius decided to prefix such essential matter in prose. We cannot know if he was the first to take such a step, but he was not the last. What we can see is that the prefaces are perhaps one of the earliest examples of the self-conscious professionalism to which the institution of patronage within a predominantly court-culture inevitably gives rise.4 1 2

3

4

profiteatur, M; profitetur, Vahlen, with some probability. For a discussion of the evidence of enmity between Martial and Statius, cf. Heuvel, Mnem. 4.299-330. Martial does not mention Statius directly in his epigrams. 7.63, however, is a glowing tribute to the wealthy Silius Italicus, acclaiming him as a second Cicero and Virgil (5-6), his early career as a delator under Nero (cf. Pliny, Ep. 3.7.3, with Sherwin-White's note, Letters, 227) being conveniently forgotten. Pavlovskis, RIL 101.529. For an analogous situation, see the remarks of G. Mathew, The Court of Richard II (London, 1968) 1 ff.

40

THE

'THEBAID'

IN

THE

'srLVAE'

The Thebaid in the Silvae

It has been shown how eager Statius was to differentiate between his epic writing and his occasional pieces. Such a distinction is natural in the classical theory of genres and the inherent superiority of epic as a kind had long been a commonplace of Latin literature. The stance is equally apparent in the references to the Thebaid and Achilleid which we find scattered throughout the Silvae. The first book of vers d' occasion appeared after the publication of the Theban epic, but some of the poems date from a time before its completion. ln Silvae 1. 5 ( the 'Balneum Claudii Etrusci '), Statius begins by dismissing the Muses, Phoebus, Bacchus and Mercury, summoning in their place the N aiads. 1 In this poem, he writes that 'non Helicona gravi pulsat chelys enthea plectra'; he does not invoke the Muses, 'lassata totiens mihi numina' (1-2). For a time he is to forget the Thebaid, the 'arma nocentia' of the sons of Oedipus, so that they may give him time 'dilecto lascivire sodali '. He is now writing a 'carmen molle' (29). The terms are more or less fossilised: mollis had long been established as a technical term appropriate to the lesser genres, whereas gravis was the mot propre for describing epic. 2 The inspiration which Statius describes in high-flown terms is restricted to his epic writing; 3 in that he uses 'chelys en thea ', in that he requires divine aid. It is the usual distinction (originating in the prologue to Callimachus' Aetia) between 'large' and 'small' themes; its implications had been fully explored in the recusationes of neoteric and Augustan poets, who had also provided a stylistic vocabulary which by Statius' day had become a mannerism. In book 3, there are further references to the Thebaid. In the second poem (to Maecius Celer), Statius prays to Palaemon and his mother Ino: he has special claims on these Theban deities for he is writing an epic about Thebes: tu tamen ante omnes, diva cum matre Palaemon, annue, si vestras amor est mihi pandere Thebas, nee cano degeneri Phoebeum Amphiona plectra.

(39-41)

At the beginning of his epic:, Statius mentions Amphion and Palaemon, only to say that he will not recount their stories, for to do so would 1

J

2 Cf. Vessey, PVS 9.54, 62-3, with notes. On this topos, see above, p. 20 n. 4. In describing the composition of his epics, Statius uses all the trappings of what Elder, HSCP 65.112-13, has so aptly designated the 'High-Church' attitude; for a parody, cf.

Persius, Prologus and Satire 5. 5 ff.

41

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

take him too far afield. 1 At the end of the propempticon, Statius imagines his ultimate reunion with Celer and the conversations they will have. Celer will speak of the Orient and its wonders (135 ff.), whereas the poet will tell his friend how he has ended the Thebaid: 'ast ego, devictis dederim quae busta Pelasgis / quaeve laboratas claudat mihi pagina Thebas' ( 142-3). The burial of the Argives is not in fact described at length in book 12 of the epic; Statius says that he would not be able to describe them however much inspiration he received from divine sources: 'non ego, centena si quis mea pectora laxet / voce deus, tot busta simul vulgique ducumque, / tot pariter gemitus dignis conatibus aequem' (Theb. 12.797-9). Statius' prediction of how his epic would end and his final version do not tally exactly; J. H. Mozley suggested that line J43 of the propempticon implied 'some perplexity on Statius' part as to how he would bring his epic to a close'. 2 This is perhaps over-imaginative. The point that Statius is making is that his epic is an opus laboratum: the decision how to end it will not be made hastily. Such a question will occupy him during the time when Celer is gazing at Bactra, Babylon, Idume and other eastern tourist attractions. Maecius will be serving the emperor and the Roman state; Statius will be engaged on the no less arduous task of composing his masterpiece. In the poem to his wife (3.5), Statius recounts how she was aware of the nights occupied in struggling with the problems of poetic creation; he says 'longi tu sola laboris / conscia, cumque tuis crevit mea Thebais annis' (35-6). To write such an epic was a labor; there was no peace for the conscientious craftsman day or night.3 His wife had shared these sufferings in the cause of Art. Statius is not unwilling to give publicity to the sweat and tears that were required in polishing and perfecting the twelve books of the epic. But the task was ultimately finished. Writing to Vitorius Marcellus (4.4), Statius proudly announces not only the completion of the Thebaidbut the commencement of a new work on 'magnus Achilles': 'iam Sidonios emensa labores / Thebais optato collegit carbasa portu' (88-9). Statius had long felt impelled to write about Achilles, but timor deterred him. Would so great a task be too much for him, he asks his friend: 'fluctus an sueta minores / nosse ratis nondum Ioniis credenda periclis' (99-rno). The trite metaphor of a poem as a ship4 is used as 1

3

4

2 Mozley, Statius (LCL) 1, 166, n.c. See below, p. 64. On this topos, common in prefaces, cf. Janson, Latin Prose Prefaces, 97-8, 147-8. Cf. Curtius, European Literature, 128 ff.

42

THE

'THEBAID'

IN THE

'SILVAE'

the formal ending of the Thebaid: 'et mea iam longo meruit ratis aequore portum' (12.809). Statius' doubts about his capabilities are purely rhetorical. The beginning of the Thebaid was bold; that of the Achilleid still more confident. The task he set himself was a large one to tell the story of Achilles' life from birth to death, not merely the events narrated by Homer, 'acta viri multum inclita can tu / Maeonio' (Ach. 1.3-4); Statius' amor was now to complete and to exceed the Iliad. The comparison is clear; if Statius in the Thebaid had rivalled Virgil, he now sets out to rival Homer. He prays Apollo to inspire him again in his task: neque enim Aonium nemus advena pulso nee mea nunc primis augescunt tempora vittis. scit Dircaeus ager meque inter prisca parentum nomina cumque suo numerant Amphione Thebae.

(Ach.

1.10-13)

It is a hyperbolic claim and goes far beyond the apparent diffidence about the Thebaid revealed elsewhere in the Silvae and in the closing lines of the epic itself.I Evidently the reception of his magnum opus had been as favourable as the poet hoped. Statius now felt that he had joined the canon of epic poets, had found his place among the prisca nomina, in the catalogue of divine poets that stretched back into the remote, indeed mythical, ages of the world. In the fourth book of Silvae, we also find the sapphic ode to Vibius Maximus. The poet rarely tried his hand in lyric metres, and so he asks Pindar for aid, asserting that he has a right to expect it in view of the fact that he had written a Latin epic about Thebes: 'da novi paulum mihi iura plectri / si tuae cantu Latio sacravi, / Pindare, Thebas' (4.7.6-8). He complains to Vibius that, without his help, his Muse has grown sluggish and that he is not making much progress with the Achilleid: 'tardius sueto venit ipse Thymbrae / rector et primis meus ecce metis / haeret Achilles' (22-4). While working on the Thebaid, Statius had been grateful for his friend's advice, now denied to him: quippe te fido monitore nostra Thebais multa cruciata lima temptat audaci fide Mantuanae gaudia famae. (25-8) The Thebaid was the result of long, unremitting toil, subjected to continual revision and polishing: its aim to follow in Virgil's footsteps J

Cf, the remarks of Dilke, Achilleid, on Ach.

43

I.

r 2.

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

and thus to gain for its author some part of the Jama which the master had won - an audacious task, not lightly begun, even less lightly completed. This sentiment is echoed at the end of the Thebaid, where Statius informs us that he spent twelve years composing the epic, that is composing at the rate of one book a year, 1 presumably the time that Statius believed Virgil would have needed to complete the Aeneid had fate spared him ( r2.8rnff.). Statius speculates as to whether his epic would survive in the future and comforts himself that it is already growing in repute: iam certe praesens tibi Fama benignum stravit iter coepitque novam monstrare futuris, iam te magnanimus dignatur noscere Caesar, Itala iam studio discit memoratque iuventus.

Just as Augustus approved the Aeneid and was believed to have saved it from destruction,Z so now Domitian deigns to read the Thehaid; just as the Aeneid rapidly became a textbook in the schools, 3 so now, even in its author's lifetime, the Thehaidwas studied and memorised. Statius is eagerly claiming his place next to the master. But he is modest enough to leave Virgil his laurels: his epic is not to rival 'divinam Aeneida' - 'sed longe sequere et vestigia semper adora '. He ends by saying that if any livor 4 still overshadows his work, it will disappear and, after his death, the poem will be granted the honours that it has earned (12.818-19). These sentiments echo exactly those we have seen in the Silvae. Predecessors and parentage Statius as a mannerist was overwhelmingly conscious of the great tradition to which he was an heir and in which he craved to find an honoured place. This tradition embraced the poets of both Greece and Rome. Statius himself was a Neapolitan and he claimed a Greek origin for his family. 5 The city of his birth always held the poet's affection; at the end of his life, in failing health and grieved by the death of his adopted son, 6 he decided to retire to N aples.7 In the poem urging this course on his wife, he speaks of it as a city ruled by law, a place of peace, magnificent architecture and with fine opportunities for cultural pursuits. 8 In Naples, it was possible to live a free and contented life. 1

3

4

6 8

2 Cf. Legras, Et., 64-5, n. 3. Donatus, Vit. Vero. 37-8. Cf. D'Alton, Roman Literary Theory, 463. The notion of 'envy' overshadowing a poet's work is found in Callimachus, Aetia 1, fr. 1.17 Pfeiff.; Hymn 2.105-13; cf., e.g., Ovid, Amores 1.15. s Silvae 5.3.109 ff., 126 ff. 7 Cf. Legras, REA 9.347; Vollmer, Silvae, 19, on Statius' retirement. Cf. Silv. 5.5. Silvae 3.5 .85 ff.

44

PREDECESSORS

AND

PARENTAGE

There, too, 'Romanus honos et Graia licentia' mingled happily together (Silv. 3.5 .94). Such sentiments were expressed by others, such as the anonymous author of the Laus Pisonis: quin etiam facilis Romano profluit ore Graecia, Cecropiaeque sonat gravis aemulus urbi: testis, Acidalia quae condidit alite muros (89-92) Euboicam referens facunda Neapolis artem.

Naples was well-known as a centre of learning and leisure, of peace and beauty. 1 In his earliest years, Statius lived in an environment in which the two cultures - Hellenic and Roman -were united. He was destined to produce an epic based on Greek mythology but written for Roman audiences. His background for the task was appropriate. Naples was also closely associated with Virgil: 2 'illo Vergilium me tempore dulcis alebat / Parthenope studiis florentem ignobilis oti.' At Naples Virgil was buried and his tomb was the object of pious veneration by his successors. Statius mentions how he had visited the shrine of the master in search of inspiration: tenues ignavo pollice chordas pulso Maroneique sedens in margine templi sumo animum et magni tumulis adcanto magistri.

(4-4-53-5)

Silius also lived at Naples in a luxurious villa, filled with statues and books; Pliny remarked that he treated Virgil's birthday 'religiosius quam suum' and that he was particularly fond of Naples 'ubi monimentum eius [Vergili] adire ut templum solebat'. 3 No doubt both Silius and Statius hoped that the spirit of Virgil would lend them supernatural assistance, as that of Homer had to Ennius.4 The tomb was situated on the road from Naples to Puteoli. On the opposite side of the bay of Naples was Baiae, the epitome of luxury, where affluent Romans, including some of Statius' patrons, erected their sybaritic villas. 5 Not far off was the Lucrine Lake 6 and Avernus itself. Near Puteoli could be seen the Phlegraei Campi (now called Solfatara), where the King of the Gods was said to have defeated the rebellious giants.7 West of Baiae, one might visit Misenum, well-known from Virgil. 8 A little to the north was Cumae, where dwelt the Sibyl, who conducted Cf., e.g., Horace, Epod. 5.43; Ovid, Metam. 15. 7u-12; Silius, Pun. 12.31-2; Strabo 2 5.4.7; Martial 5.78.14. Virgil, Georg. 4.563-4. 3 Pliny, Ep. 3.7.8. Cf. Martial 1 r.48, 49. 4 See Skutsch, Annals of Quint us Ennius, 9-1 r. s On the notoriety of Baiae, cf. D' Arms, Romans on the Bay of Naples, 42-3, 119-20. 6 Cf. Virgil, Georg. 2.161. 1 Cf. Silvae 5.3.196; Achilleid 1.484. 8 Virgil, Aen. 6.162 ff.: cf. Silvae 5.3.167-8. 1

45

THE

'sILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

Aeneas to the Underworld. 1 For a devotee of Virgil, there were abundant places for pilgrimage. Statius also mentions as attractions of the area the vineyards of Gaurus, Capri with its lighthouse, Surrentum where Pollius dwelt, Aenaria with its medicinal waters and recently rebuilt Stabiae (3.5.99 ff.): and these were but a few of the 'mille nostrae telluris amores' (ro5). It is not remarkable that Statius, after completing his epic, wished to retire back to his hometown, where he could anticipate having a tomb close to the master's. 2 To Virgil, then, associated with Homer, was given the formal place of honour in the homage ofStatius. The Silvae give other clues as to his predilections. Two poems are vital in assessing his outlook on his predecessors: the genethliacon written in memory of Lucan (2.7) and the epicedium for the poet's father (5.3). These works must for a time claim our attention. The poem on .Lucan, which, according to H. E. Butler, 'reveals a genuine enthusiasm for the dead poet and is couched in language of the utmost grace', 3 was written in hendecasyllables, because, as has been noted, Statius professed not to trust his hexameters for fear of invidious comparisons. He expresses immoderate admiration for the author of the Bellum civile, admiration that goes far beyond that of the classicising Qgintilian, who, although recognising that Lucan was 'ardens et concitatus et sententiis clarissimus ', had to add, in all fairness, that he was 'magis oratoribus quam poetis imitandus'.4 Statius begins his poem by summoning to celebrate Lucan's special day 'quisquis ... docto pectora concitatus oestro' (r-3), invoking Mercury, Bacchus, Apollo and the Muses, all the tutelaries of epic poetry. For Lucan, there were to be a hundred altars, a hundred victims, for, as Statius says, in the language of religious ritual: Lucanum canimus, favete linguis, vestra est ista dies, favete, Musae, dum qui vos geminas tulit per artes, at vinctae pede vocis et solutae, Romani colitur chori sacerdos. (19-23)

Lucan was master ofboth prose and verse; Yates and orator, he deserves the worship of his Roman successors. Baetica, Lucan's birthplace, is apostrophised for giving so great a son to the world, a gift greater even 1 2

3

4

Cf. Juvenal 3.2-3; Silvae 5-3-168. Ct Statius' lines on his father's tumulus, Silvae 5-3-36 ff. Butler, Post-Augustan Poetry, 233; on the poem, cf. Buchheit, Hermes 88.231-49. Q_yintilian 10.1.90.

46

PREDECESSORS

AND

PARENTAGE

than that of her other famous sons, Seneca and 'dulcis Gallio '. 1 Statius even goes so far as to suggest that Lucan's birthplace is more noble than the towns where Homer and Virgil were born ( 24-3 5). 2 After this, we are plunged into mythology; Calliope, the Muse of epic poetry, is pictured as ceasing for a time her eternal laments for Orpheus (prototype of all poets), to prophesy greatness for the infant Lucan. The child, she asserts, is consecrated to the Muses (41) and destined to surpass the 'longaevos vates '; to him homage would be paid by the 'docti equites' and by the senators of Rome (46-7). She commends him for avoiding well-worn epic themes; he was destined to create a 'carmen togatum ', a Roman epic (47 ff.). The Muse lists three 'trita vatibus orbita': the Fall of Troy, the Wanderings of Ulysses and the Voyage of the Argonauts. She is of course echoing a Callimachean sentiment familiar in its Roman variants. 3 Calliope is also tactful enough to omit the story of the Seven against Thebes from her catalogue.4 The prophecy continues with a list of Lucan's works, the details of which need not concern us. 5 All of them, it is pointed out, were written at an age at which Virgil had not created even his Culex. 6 The Muse predicts that other Latin poets will give way before Lucan's genius, utilising the' 0-berbietungsformel' to intensify her eulogy. She mentions first 'Musa rudis ferocis Enni ', second 'docti furor arduus Lucreti ', third Varro of Atax, translator of Apollonius' Argonautica, and finally Ovid, author of the Metamorphoses. As a pinnacle of praise, the Muse affirms that even the Aeneid will bow to the Bellum civile (75-80 ). The list is fairly predictable but it throws a little light on Statius' literary tastes. His judgment on Ennius is different from that of Silius Italicus, but in Silius we can, in certain respects, begin to see the seeds of later archaism.7 J. F. D'Alton has rightly commented that Statius' 1

3

4

6

7

I.e. L. Junius Gallio Novatus, brother of Seneca the Younger: cf. Rossbach, RE 1.2236. 2 Cf. Silvae 5-3-130 ff. Cf. Martial 7.21, 22, 23. Cf. Wimmel, Kallimachos in Rom, 316 ff. Callimachus, Aetia r. fr. 1.27-8 Pfeiff., and Lucretius 4-1-2. The Theban legend was commonly used as an example of hackneyed mythological themes: cf., e.g., Propertius r.7 and 9, 2.r.21; 2.34; Manilius 3.14-15; Martial 14.1.rr12. s On this passage, cf. Mensching, Hermes 97.252-5. Statius may have been thinking of the audacious remark attributed to Lucan and quoted in Suetonius' 'Life', p. xiii in Haskins's edition: 'initia sua cum Vergilio comparans ausus sit dicere "et quantum mihi restat ad Culicem?"' Silius, Punica 12.393-414; for his borrowings from Ennius, see Woodruff, f!-emin. of Ennius in S.I. On Silius' archaising tendencies, cf. Mendell, PhQ 3.1-20; Laun Poetry: the Age of Rhetoric, 142-6. In the Punica, the poet borrowed freely from a wide range of predecessors (for his use of Ovid, cf. the papers of Bruere, in Ovidiana, 47-99 and CP 54.228-4 5). Though Silius may be seen as a precursor of later archaism, he did not reject the work of the mannerists entirely. His tastes were eclectic.

47

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

spirit 'was akin to that of the Alexandrians and their Roman imitators, so that he naturally judges Ennius with the contrast of ars and ingenium in mind'. 1 Ovid, for instance, described Ennius as 'arte carens' -- his greatness rested solely on ingenium (Amores I.I 5.19).2 Qyintilian's opinion is similar, for he says that Ennius is more likely to inspire his contemporaries with 'religio' than with admiration for the beauty of his work. 3 It was for days after Domitian to look back on the alter Homerus with greater reverence.4 To Statius, Lucretius was a doctus poeta, writing on a sublime theme; the epithet arduus recalls Ovid's reference to Lucretius as suhlimis.s Statius was, however, likely to share Qyintilian's view that Lucretius was oflittle help in forming his style; echoes are rare in the Th.ebaid.6 Qyintilian also argued that Varro of Atax was of little help 'ad augendam facultatem dicendi'; his work as an 'interpres operis alieni' was not despicable but his style lacked richness.7 Varro had appeared in some well-known catalogues of Roman poets, 8 but Statius may have been prompted by an ulterior motive to mention him here. 9 Ovid's influence on Statius' work is not to be denied. Inevitably, after these tributes, Statius depicts Calliope as commending Lucan's widow as 'doctam atque ingenio decoram' (82 ff.). The' Muse ends with a fierce condemnation of Nero's crime in removing so great a genius from this world. The poem itself concludes with the idea that Lucan has won immortality in this world, and envisages him in the next, reciting his 'nobile carmen ', perhaps in the presence of Pompey and Cato, while Nero suffers for his misdeeds in Tartarus (107 ff.). On earth, his widow still has a mystical communion with the departed poet - and so death should depart: 'haec vitae genialis est origo' (120 ff.). In such a poem, from such a poet, we should expect hyperbole. Despite the polished regularity of the hendecasyllables, the mythological apparatus seems more strained and lifeless than in the hexameter poems. But, if we leave aside non-essentials, we are still left with the strong impression that Statius had a real and profound enthusiasm 2 D' Alton, Roman Lit. Theory, 29r. Cf. Tristia 2.423-4. Qgintilian 10.r.87. 4 D'Alton, op. cit., 314-15. s Ovid, Amores 1.15.23. On Statius' use of doctus here, cf. Kenney, Mnem. 23.366 ff. 6 Qgintilian 10.r.87. For echoes of Lucretius in the Thebaid, cf. Legras, Et., 46-7 n. 2 (3.26o ff.: cf. Lucretius r.31 ff.) and Helm, De Statii Theb., 67 ff. (on Theb. 8.303 ff.). 7 Qgintilian 10.r.87. 8 Propertius 2.34-85-6; Ovid, Amores 1.15.21-2; A.A. 3.335-6; on Varro, cf. Williams, Tradition and Originality, 255 ff. 9 Vessey, CB 46.51-2 (rivalry with Valerius). 1

3

48

PREDECESSORS

AND

PARENTAGE

for Lucan's achievement. In the genethliacon are mentioned most of the deities in Statius' pantheon. Virgil is there, although for a moment he takes second place. Homer too is given a passing mention. Ovid has his place; Seneca is not forgotten. Lucan is awarded the position of primacy, but this is an exaggeration demanded by the theme of the poem. These five writers all exerted a deep and recognisable influence on the Thebaid; all were echoed, all imitated with great frequency. All received Statius' reverent regard: Virgil and Homer were the masters of epic poetry. Ovid, Seneca and Lucan are the key figures in the tradition of mannerism inherited and developed by Statius. The hysterical denunciation of Nero at the end of the poem may well suggest that it was written quite early in Statius' career, perhaps in the reign of Vespasian when anti-Neronian propaganda was at its height. The genethliacon provides us with useful evidence about those whom Statius accepted as his models and exemplars when he decided to follow Lucan in the composition of an epic poem. Even more valuable in some respects is the long epicedium written by Statius in honour of his father (Silvae 5.3). 1 It is certain that the elder Papinius had an important formative role in his son's literary education. 2 The poem itself is an exhibition piece in the gallery of mannerism. That it sets out to express a real and natural grief is hardly to be contradicted, but there is in the work nothing natural, nothing that is not obfuscated by extremism of language and thought. The mannered style has left no room for immediacy: even personal bereavement has to be encased in literarisms which have largely lost their vitality. The poem, ifline 29 is to be taken literally, was written three months after the death of Statius' father; it appears to have been composed while work on the Thebaidwas still progressing. It is a tribute not only from son to father, but from doctus poeta to genitor praedoctus (5.3.3); Statius sets out to acknowledge with reverential gratitude all that he has learnt from his father, who was, he claims, the source of all his 1

2

The state of the poem as transmitted is far from satisfactory, and it may be that Statius never completed work on it: for some of the problems involved, cf. Argenio, RSC 10.128-32; H;l.kanson, Statius' Silvae, 137 ff. On the relations between Statius and his father, cf. the cynical remarks of Nisard, .Etudes 1, 262 ff., and the fairer t;stimates of Curcio, Studio su Staz.io, 3-18 and Lehanneur, De Statii Vita, 43-5. In a lecture delivered to the Classical Association (reported under the title 'Poeta fit: a study of Statius', PCA 30.26-8), E. Phillips Barker also discussed the question, suggesting that 'it is to be supposed that consciously or unconsciously the elder Papinius retarded his son's development'. It is hard to see any evidence for this allegation.

49

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATilJS'

ART

skill and learning. The Thehaid is mentioned at the beginning of the epicedium; Statius bewails the fact that his inspiration has evaporated in his grief, even though he is an epic writer: 'magnanimum qui facta attollere regum / ibam al tum spirans Martemque aequare canendo' (10-u). The Muses stand byin amazement at his plight and Statius calls upon his father for inspiration. The laudation of his father's gifts as a poet begins early in the poem and continues throughout it. As we have seen, in the poem for Lucan, Statius expended some lines on speculation as to the fate of the deceased' s soul; in the epicedium too he allows his imagination free rein on the same theme. Even for a poet who never felt embarrassed by hyperbole, the alternatives that he envisages are somewhat far-fetched. He suggests either that the liberated soul of his father is now able to pursue philosophical and cosmological researches, continuing 'noti modos Arati' (19 ff.); or that he is dwelling in the poetic Elysium with Homer and Hesiod: 'Maeonium Ascraeumque senem, non segnior umbra / accolis altemumque sonas et carrnina misces' (26-7). Apparently the traditional concept of the poetic &ywv is accepted in the Underworld as on earth: but the notion is too fantastic to be more than a mere faion de parler. It means nothing more than that Papinius pere was a poet, and had made a study of Greek literature. Meanwhile, in the world above, his son finds little comfort in his inherited art: 'vilis honos studiis' (33). He expresses the wish that it were in his power to raise a suitable monument to his father, one that would exceed the tomb erected by Aeneas for Anchises and that raised in honour of Opheltes-Archemoms,1 a tomb that would be glorified not by athletic contests but by poetic ones, with Statius as priest and chief mourner, offering praise and 'frondentia vatum praemia' (47 ff.). Ifhe had been able to do this, celebrating his father's 'mores et facta': 'fors et magniloquo non posthabuisset Homero / tenderet et torvo pietas aequare Maroni' (62-3). The doctrine of aemulatio is implicit in the lines; the repetition of the verb aequare in 11 and 63 should not be overlooked. Here is a clear and unambiguous statement of Statius' rather conventional ambition: to be esteemed the equal of Homer, even of Virgil. There follows a complex passage in which Statius compares his grief at the untimely death of his father with that felt by Erigone for Icarius and Andromache for Astyanax (64 ff.). Despite these slightly absurd comparisons, he goes on to say that he must reject the usual mythological exempla appropriate to funeral dirges, since they were 1

See Thehaid 6.242 ff. (below, pp. 191-5 ).

50

PREDECESSORS

AND

PARENTAGE

'nota nimis vati' (85), unconsciously shadowing forth later criticisms of his own verse. 1 Rather he decides to invoke Pietas, Iustitia and Facundia as principal mourners, together with Pallas and the 'docti cohors Heliconia Phoebi' (89 ff.). With this curious gaggle of deities should come all men of letters: epic and lyric poets, philosophers, tragedians, comedians and elegists, for his father had been a true polymath, master of prose and verse of every type. 2 No genre should be unrepresented. In view of these accomplishments, it was natural for Statius to urge Naples to be proud ofher offspring, in whom she excels Athens, Cyrene, Sparta. 3 He had often won the prize for poetry at the Neapolitan Sebasta (111-12), as well as (it seems) in contests in Greece (141 ff.) the homeland of his ancestors.4 Though his family had been in straitened circumstances, his ancestry was freeborn and not without distinction (116 ff.), 5 but before all else it was his eloquence and his poetic gifts that brought him fame and made him an object of awe, even in his youth, to the people of Naples (136-7). 6 All in all, it is not surprising that Papinius the elder became a grammaticus and one to whom the fathers of Naples were pleased to entrust their children for instruction in 'mores et facta priorum' (147). We are presented with an interesting synopsis of the syllabus used to instil the essential virtues at the school. First in the list and in honour come the Iliad and Odyssey, for, as Q.yintilian remarks, in Homer can be found 'omnibus eloquentiae partibus exemplum et ortum' (Inst. Or. rn.1.46 ff.). The elder Papinius had been especially skilled in rendering Homer into Latin prose to aid his pupils (159 ff.). After Homer, the 1

E.g. those of Nisard, Etudes 1, 271 ff. 92 ff.: the references are not all clear: cf. Vollmer, ad foe. J 107-8: the allusions to Cyrene and Sparta imply Callimachus and Aleman, both of whom are mentioned later in the poem (153, 157). It is uncertain which poet is to be understood from the reference to Athens, but Sophocles, Euripides or Menander would each be apt. 4 It seems that Papinius pere was in early life, like his son, a professional poet dealing in panegyrics, epithalamia, epicedia, etc. Victory at the various contests would be an important achievement for such a man, and his subsequent assumption of the role of grammaticus would be a logical step (for valuable comments on the career of professional poets in a later century, cf. Cameron, Claudian, 22-3). At 126 ff. Statius suggests that his father was born in Hyele ( = Velia, in Lucania). On the probable Greek origins of the family, cf. Curcio, Studio, 1 ff., and Traglia, RCCM 7.1129-30. s Statius may well be using panegyrist's licence here, but there is no reason to doubt that his ancestors had been ingenui: Statius stresses the fact because grammatici were very commonly freedmen: cf. Treggiari, Roman Freedmen, 110 ff. 6 Statius says, hyperbolically, that his father's eloquence exceeded that of Nestor and Ulysses (114-15); he also compares him with Homer (130), adding that his father was 'laudum festinus et audax / ingenii' (135-6), as was his son. 2

THE

'SILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

list is more idiosyncratic. Hesiod is inevitably included, and his name is linked with that of Epicharmus. After them, a number oflyric poets are mentioned: Pindar, Ibycus, 'ferox' Stesichorus, Sappho, in fact all the lyricists ( 1 56). Aleman, referred to by implication in 108, is named in 153. Evidently the grammaticus did not share Cicero's view on the lyricists.I Papinius was also skilled in expounding the poems of Callimachus, to say nothing of the riddling obscurities of Lycophron, of Sophron and Corinna. The catalogue is unusual, including names Qgintilian did not mention in his educational textbook. 2 It may be intended to give a picture of the elder Papinius' favourite authors; on the other hand, his son clearly wished to stress the expertise which his father possessed in dealing with even the most difficult authors. It is apparent that throughout his life the praedoctus genitor was primarily interested in the Greek poets. He was also something of an expert on the art of augury and on religious rites (181 ff.). His former pupils included some who had become flamines and pontifices (178 ff.). This interest can be detected in the work of his son. 3 Other pupils from the school at Naples became administrators, soldiers, lawyers. \Vith customary exaggeration, Statius maintains that his father's skill as an educator exceeded that of Nestor, Phoenix, Chiron (192 ff.). In respect of all his pupils, it is asserted that Papinius pere was their 'laudis origo' ( 190). No doubt the younger Statius found many useful contacts among his father's former pupils when he was seeking patronage at Rome. In addition to these professional duties, Statius' father also found time to write poetry (195 ff.). Two works are directly mentioned: the first a poem on the destruction and havoc wreaked at Rome during the fighting between supporters of Vitelli us and Vespasian in 69; the second) apparently not completed, on Vesuvius. Both subjects must have provided ample scope for the kind of highly-coloured narrative in which his son was later to excel. It is certainly interesting to know, in view of the subject of the Thebaid, that the horrors of civil conflict attracted the elder Papinius' pen. How much poems of this type may have influenced the Silvae and Thebaid it is impossible to know; but we may guess that they were nothing if not mannered in type. The guidance which Statius received from his father when he commenced work on his chef d'oeuvre is indicated in the epicedium. : See Seneca, Ep. 49. 5. Q_yintiliandoes not mention lbycus, Aleman, Sappho, Lycophron or Corinna. Sophron 3 Cf. Legras, .Et.,242 ff., and below, pp. 266-8. is mentioned, en passant, at 1.10.17.

2

PREDECESSORS

AND

PARENTAGE

At 209 ff., Statius makes it clear that it was from his father that he had first received the impetus to write poetry. He did not, he says, receive only the usual material benefits from him but also anything that was good in his poetry: 'decus hoe quodcumque lyrae'. From him, the youthful poet had first learned' non vulgare loqui' (a fact that is certainly borne out in the Thebaid) 1 and to yearn for a fame that would live on after his death. It was in his son's poetry that the elder Papinius found comfort and satisfaction in later life, ahd he encouraged his son to follow in his footsteps by entering various poetic contests.z Even more important, it was under his father's scrutiny and with his help that Statius had begun work on the Thebaid, on which all his hopes for Jama were fixed: te nostra magistro Thebais urgebat priscorum exordia vatum, tu cantus stimulare meos, tu pandere facta heroum bellique modos positusque locorum monstrabas (233-7) It was Papinius pere who, like Apollo or the Muse in the language of poetic fantasy, assisted his son to plan his work; he acted as magister in its early stages; in particular he gave aid to his son in his endeavour to rival the 'prisci vates '. Statius alleges that after his father's demise he felt some difficulty in continuing his task; using the nautical metaphor that we have seen elsewhere, he wrote: 3 'labat incerto mihi limite cursus / te sine, et orbatae caligant vela carinae' (237-8). Without his father's guidance, he finds difficulty in fixing the '1imes carminis' ;4 this may be confirmed by the facts - the later books and the ending of the Thebaid have often been censured. But it would be a mistake to read too much into the mannered excesses of the epicedium. Statius continues with an elaborate lament on his tragic loss (246 ff.), 5 and returns at the end of the poem to the theme of the fate of his father's soul. He invokes 'pii manes Graiumque examina vatum' (284), asking them to lead his father to a peaceful corner of Elysium, undisturbed by the Furies, a place 'in quo falsa dies caeloque simillimus aer' (287). Cf., e.g, Lehanneur, De Statii Vita, 90 ff. On the contests, cf. Silvae 3.5.28 ff.; 4.5.22 ff. Statius was disappointed by his defeat in the Capitoline contest, probably in 94: 3· 5.31-3. 3 Statius is recalling the story of Theseus' tragic return to Athens from Crete: cf. Catullus 64.207 ff. + On the 'limes carminis', cf. Thehaid 1.16 and below, pp. 64-5. s In this section, Statius' mannerism runs away with him, especially at 266 ff., when he compares his grief to that of Aeneas and Orpheus, implying that he too is entitled to make a katabasis to bring back his father from the Underworld. 1

2

53

THE 'sILVAE'

AND

STATIUS'

ART

It is naturally the Greek poets, whom the elder Papinius had studied and emulated in his lifetime, that are envisaged as welcoming his learned shade into their midst. The bereaved son hopes that his father's ghost may be able to come through the gate of horn and visit his dreams: 'somnique in imagine monstra / quae solitus' (289-90). His father would thus continue to teach him even though the pair were separated by death, just as Numa had been guided by Egeria, Scipio by Jupiter and Sulla by Apollo (290-4). 1 Qgite apart from his physical loss, Statius regrets the absence of his father's tuition, his customary guidance. There is no need to question the truth of his remarks. It was from his father that Statius learned his craft, was encouraged and guided in his epic task, was filled with that desire for fame, for a place in the poetic pantheon which is so forcibly expressed in the Silvae. In the epicedium, we have a glimpse of Statius' roots: the school at Naples, the literary pretensions and aspirations of his father, the intensive study of great poets of the past. It is possible to understand, despite the gross exaggerations of style and content in 5.3, the closeness of the relationship that existed between father and son. Both were professionally involved in literature. Statius' poetic ambitions follow naturally from the domestic circumstances of his early life. Poems such as the Silvae were necessary to a poet who had his way to make in the world. But it was the Thehaid which Statius regarded as his real work, a laborthat occupied twelve years of unrelenting effort. He set out to produce an epic which had been elaborated and refined to what he thought was perfection. Statius was governed by a desire not merely to emulate Virgil but to be the Virgil of his age: and the age was not that of Augustus but of Domitian. r

It is perhaps a little strange that Statius here uses examples relating to political leaders; one might have thought that the Muses' appearance to Callimachus or Homer's to Ennim was more apt. The elder Papinius would seem to be credited with actual apotheosis at this point.

54

II

The Thehaid: basis and form Unity and pathos

Statius' twelve years of toil almost certainly drew to a close some time in 90 or 91. 1 The twelve books of the Thebaid were then presented to the world as a whole and in their final form. Portions of the epic had been delivered in earlier years as recitations, but it does not follow that these public readings always comprised one book or that a regular progression was made from start to finish. Statius must have chosen those sections of his narrative which he felt would be most to the liking of his audience. It has commonly been asserted that this practice of recitatio, which became increasingly prevalent in the first century,2 led to imbalance or disunity in literary works; it is stated that the whole was sacrificed to the parts, so that individual limbs became swollen and distorted in relation to the entire torso. The Thebaid is often held to exemplify this trend, and it has been frequently labelled 'episodic'. 3 The argument is not entirely sound, although there is enough truth in it to make it appear plausible. The Thebaid may strike a reader as a succession of vivid, often highly sensational tableaux. One critic has gone so far as to term it 'a series of violent episodes, empty of moral or historical meaning, alternating with deliberative episodes which themselves tend to hysteria' .4 This accusation is misleading. Epic, because of its length, is by nature episodic. Its basis is expansive, its scope almost unlimited. 5 It is not bound, like tragedy, within relatively narrow and predetermined confines, for it can range freely over an extensive terrain. 6 The unity of an epic cannot be quickly apprehended: the task requires a long and thorough examination of the various parts of which it is composed. Its unity is not concentrated, but diffused. Each structural block, each For the chronology, cf. Legras, REA 9.338-49; Vollmer, Silvae, II-12, with the discussion of Langford Williams, AJP 19.317-18; Kytzler, Hermes 88.344 ff. 2 On recitations, see Silvae 5.2.161-3; Tacitus, Dial. 9 (on Saleius Bassus); Pliny, Ep. 1.13; 2.19 etc.; Funaioli, s.v. Recitationes in RE I A, coll. 435 ff., Butler, Post-Augustan Poetry, 18-19, Mendell, Latin Poetry: The Age of Rhetoric, 13-14. 3 Cf., e.g., Butler, op. cit., 207 ff.; Mendell, op. cit., 125-6. 4 Greene, The Descent from Heaven, 102. s The 'expansiveness' of epic is well brought out by Greene, op. cit., 8 ff. 6 Cf. the remarks of Aristotle, Poetics 1462a-h; also, Tillyard, English Epic, 6-8. 1

55

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

episode has to be endowed with its own cohesiveness, not only in itself, but also within the total unity of the poem. Both the Iliad and the Odyssey are episodic. 1 The Argonautica of Apollonius is clearly divisible into parts,2 and the Aeneid itself is rich in what, at first sight, appear to be more or less separable sections. 3 Ovid's Metamorphoses have long been considered merely as a series of loosely conjoined stories; it is only quite recently that appreciation has been accorded to complex and subtle interaction and organisation.4 Lucan, Valerius and Silius are all 'episodic' writers; the same, in a different genre, could be said of Tacitus. 5 It is apparent that the epithet has disputable validity, and critics have often failed to appreciate Statius' careful schemes of integration. It does not follow that, because an author gave public readings of portions of his work, he had no single plan that would be revealed in its entirety only when the whole was available. Nor would he necessarily refrain from modifying and revising what had been recited with a view to achieving a greater unity. What may be said, however, is that the means by which authors endow their works with unity may be different. 6 The unity of the Aeneid is thought to be vindicated by the presence of a single hero, Aeneas, who dominated the epic from beginning to end.7 Valerius Flaccus, though less successfully, followed this example by giving Jason the central role and providing him with a heroic stature that far exceeds Apollonius' ambiguous portrait. 8 But unity can be provided by other means. It is notorious that Lucan's Bellum civile has no true hero ;9 the same may be said for Silius' Punica. 10 Equally, in the Thehaid, we would find it hard to nominate any of the characters as the Cf. the perceptive remarks of Kirk, Songs of Homer, 160--2, 338 ff. E.g. the Lemnos episode in book I; the fight between Polydeuces and Amycus, the scattering of the Harpies, the contest with the birds on the island of Aretias in 2; the purification by Circe, the adventure in lake Tritonis, the story of the giant Talos in 4: cf. Vessey, CJ 66.42. 3 It is appropriate here to mention the articles of Galinsky, AJP 87. I 8-5 1 ( on the Hercules Cacus story in Aeneid8) and Duckworth, AJP 88.129-50 (on the episode ofNisus and Euryalus in Aeneid 9); cf. also, Otis, Virgil, 70 ff. 4 See Otis, Ovid, esp. at 49, 206, 217, 309 ff. 5 Cf. Courbeaud, Procedes d'art, 121. 6 For the difference between classical and mannerist concepts of unity, see below, Appendix, pp. 317 ff. 7 Cf. Greene, Descent from Heaven, 12 ff. 8 On Jason in Valerius, c£ Garson, CQ 14.278--9; for Apollonius, Lawall, YCS 19.121 ff.; Beye, GRBS 10.31-55. 9 The question is virtually a commonplace: the basic material is provided by Heitland in Haskins's edition, !iii ff.; c£, also, Due, CM 22.87-9. 10 Cf. Bassett, in Tlze Classical Tradition (ed. Wallach), 258 ff. 1

2

UNITY

AND

PATHOS

epic's 'hero'. In the case of Lucan and Statius (and, to a lesser degree, Silius) the over-riding unity is that of theme: there is one story to be told, in which a number of important figures play a part. Integration of narrative is achieved more by the philosophical and psychological basis on which the epic is built than by the characters themselves. As Virgil realised, there is ample room within an epic for diversification of material and this diversification helps to add new depths of significance to the whole poem. 1 The mannerists, with their love of colour and variety, exploited this possibility to the full. 2 In the Bellum civile, Lucan's passionate Stoicism is the real unifying factor. In it we find a narrative that is psychologically motivated and in which the emotions play a dominating role. The same is true of Seneca's tragedies. 3 The Thebaid shows the identical 'Neigung zum Psychologisieren' ( to borrow Krumbholz's phrase) :4 it is the conflict within man, reflected in human society, that really interests Statius. He has selected a story without any direct Roman connexions, because he deals with universals that can be illuminated as well by the retelling of an ancient Greek myth as by the writing of contemporary history. Valerius followed Virgil to the extent of inserting, somewhat irrelevantly, into his Argonautica a number of passages that relate directly to Roman history and custom. 5 Silius wrote an epic that is overtly encomiastic of Rome. Not so Statius. If anything in his epic can be applied to Rome, it is only because myth, skilfully interpreted, must serve to illustrate and to universalise the human predicament. The Thebaid is stripped of national and patriotic appeal; its world is purely imaginative, a mythic construct that lives in and of itself. In this Statius stands apart from Virgil, but closer to Lucan. The Bellum civile indeed narrates a story from Roman history, one that was close, real and well-documented, but it is seen in terms of cosmic universals, of absolute philosophical truths. 6 Caesar, Pompey, Cato remain historical figures, whose activities can be fully defined in biographical and annalistic terms, but in Lucan's hands they are given a transcendental significance, embodying timeless and theoretical principles. Even nearer to Statius stand the tragedies of Seneca, in which myths, I 2

J

See the remarks of R. D. Williams, in Virgil (ed. Dudley), 136. See further below, p. 3 20. Cf. Battenhouse, Marlowe's 'Taml,urlaine', 103 ff.; Pratt, TAPA

79.1-11;

Marti,

TAPA 76.216-45. 4 Krumbholz, Glotta 34.255 ff.; cf. Venini, Athenaeum 42.201-32. s Summers, Study, 56-7. 6 See, esp., Marti, AJP 66.352-76; von Albrecht, in Lucain (Fond. Hardt Entretiens 15) 271-2, 276, 285, 292, 298, 300-1.

57

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

refurbished and re-interpreted, have been used for no other purpose than to figure forth Stoic tenets, although with a doctrinaire rigidity largely avoided in the Thehaid. The 'psychologising' of the narrative process reflects the specialised study of pathos in the schools of rhetoric. Q:yintilian informs us that pathos was principally concerned with 'iram odium metum invidiam miserationem'. 1 In the schools, budding orators were instructed in the best method of describing such emotions and the declamations naturally dwelt at length on the horrors that arose from them. 2 The aim was audience-participation; the listeners must feel in themselves the same turbulent emotions that they heard described. 3 It was natural that orators should turn to the poets for aid: Q:yintilian finds a number of useful illustrations in Virgil. 4 In the Thebaid, we find that those emotions which Q:yintilian subsumes within pathos all play a vital part. The most important is ira, but the others are scarcely less prominent. J. H. Mozley, for example, has remarked that miser is 'an epithet which occurs all to frequently' in the epic. 5 But the same could be said of most of the vocabulary of pathos, for the Thebaid is above all an epic of emotion. The influence of Stoic theorising on rhetorical attitudes towards the emotions is obvious enough. Ira has been mentioned: studies of opyrimust have been fairly commonplace among the philosophers. We possess Seneca's De ira as a specimen of the type. Statius' attitude towards ira is essentiaJly the same as Seneca's. It is not necessary to posit that Statius was directly influenced by the treatise; the similarity in treatment merely indicates their common philosophical origin. To Seneca, ira is a form of insanity, for, to the Stoics, all evil is madness and all evil men are by definition also madmen: it leads to arma, sanguis, supplicia;it lusts for vengeance, even if the avenger himself is destroyed in the process. 6 Jra destroys whole families, whole nations;7 it has countless forms. 8 In these terms is ira presented in the Thebaid. It has a demonic power which maddens and destroys. The fault of the Stoic analysis of human emotions (at least in Roman hands) is its over-simplification. There is little room for ambivalence or ambiguity. The Stoics believed that if a man was guilty 1

Qyintilian 6.2.20. For pathos in Lucan's Bellum civile - from which Statius learnt much - cf. Fraenkel, Kl. Beitrage, 229-57; Seitz, Hermes 93.204-32. 2 Cf. Bonner, Roman Declamation, 62-3. 3 Cf. Qyintilian 6.2.32. 4 Ibid. 6.2.22, 32, 33, 34: Bonner, Roman Declamation, 140-1. 6 Seneca, De ira 1.1.1-2. 5 Mozley, PVS 3.20. 8 Ibid. 1.1.3. 7 Ibid. 1.19.2.

UNITY

AND

PATHOS

of one sin, he must also be the victim of all other evil emotions; he must be absolutely depraved. 1 Most men fall into this category, and so most men are mad. The world, inhabited by an insane race, is and is likely to remain hopelessly corrupt. 2 Such an attitude is fraught with danger, particularly if it is transferred from the philosophical tract to the world of poetry. Men cease to be men and become exempla: this is the case in Senecan tragedy, in Lucan, in Statius. In this, they are all markedly inferior to Virgil. The tendency is present in the Aeneid, but the genius of its author kept the danger in check; Aeneas never becomes simply an exemplum of pietas. The writers of the following century were less wise. After them the path towards the total allegorisation of human emotion lay open and inviting. 3 Not that Statius was a proponent of Stoicism in the direct manner of Lucan and Seneca. He was not an overt propagandist for a rigid philosophical viewpoint; such a stance would scarcely have been possible for one who courted the imperial favour and so had no wish to identify himself with what was, in its extreme form, an opposition party. Statius' Stoicism is in part an inheritance from his models; it is coherent but not doctrinaire. Stoicism had taken so firm a root in Roman thought that its fundamental theses and Weltanschauung affected the attitudes even of these who were not profoundly interested in the minutiae of its dogmatic basis. From the Stoic poets, Statius derived much of his artistic method, his view of the passions, his use of psychological motivation, his cosmic vision. Like them, he sees a cosmos in which evil and violence play a positive and dominating role. The harsh, uncompromising Weltbild which Statius presents follows closely in the tradition of Senecan tragedy and the Bellum civile: with Seneca and Lucan he shares a pessimistic outlook, which Burck and others have seen as a complete inversion of Virgilian values. 4 If the Aeneid is the epic of pietas, then the Thebaid is the epic of ira. Whereas Virgil envisages providence as benevolent and creative, Statius, like Lucan, appears to see fate as maleficent and destructive. And yet, in the final book of the Thebaid, there emerges a message of salvation and a vein of hopeful optimism which breaks the pattern of sin and crime, 1 2

3 4

Cf. Zeller, Stoics, 269--70. Seneca, De ira 3.26.4, etc.; De benef. 5.17.3. Cf. Lewis, Allegory of Love, 49 ff. Burck, in Studies presented to D. M. Robinson, 693-706, esp. at 704 ff. (Burck sees in the difference between the philosophy of the Thebaid and the Aeneid a similarity to the divergent attitudes of Tacitus and Livy in their approach to history); cf. Alfonsi, Aevum 28.175--7; Schonberger, Helikon 5.123 ff.; Venini, RFC 95.423; Arico, Annali de! Liceo Classico 'G. Garibaldi', 11-12.

59

THE

'THEBAID';

BASIS

AND

FORM

revealing that, however great the power of evil, its tyranny over man is not eternal or absolute. 1 The proem to the Thebaid

Statius follows the universal convention of epic by stating his theme at the beginning of book 1. He does this with precision. The proem (extending from line I to 45) falls into three distinguishable parts: ( 1) definition of the 'limes carminis' ( 1-17); (2) recusatio and praise of Domitian (17-31); (3) programme of the whole epic (32-45). It has been suggested that the second section was inserted at the time of the poem's publication, whereas the other two form the original proem. 2 This theory may well be correct, but it is not essential. Even if the whole proem was composed after the completion of the epic, it is nonetheless a programme which must have been devised in essentials much earlier. An obsequious bow to the emperor at this point was necessary; no less predictable is the recusatio by which Statius expresses his regret that he was not yet able to devote his pen to a more fitting subject, Domitian' s successful wars against the Germans and Dacians, or the part that he had played in his father's victory over the adherents of Vitellius in 69 (21 ff.). The military campaigns on the German and Dacian borders had been the occasion of a double triumph in 89. The fact that there is no reference to the Sarmatic War of 92/93 is strong evidence that the Thehaid was published before then. 3 Statius follows his allusion to Domitian's martial exploits with a silly but in no way ironic affirmation of the emperor's divinity (24 ff.). So much was duty. The rest is of greater import. In the first section Statius specifies the extent of his epic, excluding all material not directly bearing on his chosen theme: fraternas acies alternaque regna profanis decertata odiis sontesque evolvere Thebas Pierius menti ca!or incidit. (1-3) 1

2

3

This has been understressed by many of those writers who have written of Statius' 'pessimism'. The ending of the Thehaid invites comparison with that of the Aeneid in which some find ambiguity and even a bouleversement of sympathies: cf. Putnam, Poetry of the Aeneid, 193: 'The end of the Aeneid presents a tragic victory of the very violence and irrationality which Aeneas had up to this point withstood'; also Beare, PVS 4.18-30 and (for a different view) Otis, Virgil, 379-82. On the ending of the Thehaid, see below, pp. 307-16. Kytzlcr, Hermes 88.331-54; for a rejoinder, arguing for the unity of the prologue, Schetter, MH 19.204-17; Cf. also, Venini, RIL 95.59-60. On the Sarmatic war, cf. Henderson, Five Roman Emperors, 166-7. For the dating, cf. Legras, REA 9.338-9.

60

THE

PROEM

TO THE

'THEBAID'

The first three lines of the work at once bring it close to the tradition of Lucan and separate it from that of Virgil. The theme is one of crime not glory, of unnatural strife not noble heroism. Words of emotive import set the scene and define the scope of the Thebaid. Lucan had commenced the Bellum civile in a similar way and Statius had his words in mind: bella per Emathios plus quam civilia campos, iusque datum sceleri canimus, populumque potentem in sua victrici conversum viscera dextra, cognatasque acies, et rupto foedere regni certatum totis concussi viribus orbis in commune nefas (BC 1.1-6) Statius' 'fraternas acies' are an obvious echo of Lucan's 'cognatas acies'; conflict between brothers is an especially ghastly form of war that is 'worse than civil'. There was a 'foedus regni' between Eteocles and Polynices, the rupture of which formed the stimulus for war. Statius chose a myth which was recognisably linked with Lucan's historical theme. We may compare the proems of Valerius and Silius. The former gives a simple and direct statement of his chosen theme: prima deum magnis canimus freta pervia natis fatidicamque ratem, Scythici quae Phasidis oras ausa sequi mediosque inter iuga concita cursus rumpere, flammifero tandem consedit Olympo. (Argon. 1.1-4) There are no words here of moral or emotional import. Valerius merely affirms that he is intending to tell the story of the Argonauts, but provides no insight into any deeper meaning which his narrative may have. It is in that respect completely antithetic to the beginning of the Bellum civile. Silius aligns his epic with a different tradition: ordior arma, quibus caelo se gloria tollit Aeneadum patiturque ferox Oenotria iura Carthago. da, Musa, decus memorare laborum antiquae Hesperiae, quantosque ad bella crearit et quot Roma viros, sacri cum perfida pacti gens Cadmea super regno certamina movit, quaesitumque diu, qua tandem poneret arce terrarum Fortuna caput. (Punica 1.1-8) That this is modelled on the proem to the Aeneid is apparent. Silius is intending to produce an epic in the historical and patriotic mould, which looks back to the Aeneid and beyond to the Annals of Ennius. 61

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

The glory of Rome, its establishment as caput of the world 1 is to be narrated in the Punica. Silius set out to revive the annalistic Ennian epic in accordance with Virgilian criteria. His theme may be termed optimistic and national, whereas Lucan had selected a subject that was pessimistic and moral. In lines 5-6 of Silius' exordium there is a conscious echo of Bellum civile 1.4-5, but its purpose is to show Silius' rejection of Lucan's approach: in the Punica, the treaty-breakers are not Roman citizens but Carthaginians. Silius is not going to dwell on the dissolution and decadence of the Roman republic but on its greatest moment; if Lucan's epic was basically a castigation of men and mores, Silius wishes to create a laudatio rerum Romanarum. The Bellum civile, setting out the corruption and fall of libertas, had been a counterblast to the mystical patriotism of the Aeneid, which Silius sought to revive and to renew. Statius, however, although he had no polemical intention to match Lucan's, selected a horrific myth that is neutral so far as Rome is concerned but essentially akin to the theme of the Bellum civile. A vital text in estimating the reason for Statius' choice occurs at Bellum civile 1.89 ff.: dum terra fretum terramque levabit aer et longi volvent Titana labores noxque diem eaelo totidem per signa sequetur, nulla fides regni sociis, omnique potestas impatiens eonsortis erit. nee gentibus ullis eredite, nee longe fatorum exempla petantur: fraterno primi maduerunt sanguine muri. Strife between those who share power is inevitable, a part of the cosmic order. Exempla could be traced throughout history, but to the Romans the chief was the conflict between the brothers Romulus and Remus when the city was founded. The horror of fraternal discord was always a potent and emotive force in the thought of the Roman people. Catullus, for example, regarded it as one of the most important symptoms of human sin and corruption: 'postquam tell us scelere est imbuta nefando ... / perfudere manus fraterno sanguine fratres' (64.397, 399). It was even felt that the action of Romulus had left an eternal and inborn legacy of civil war to his descendants; Horace expresses the idea memorably in Epode 7.17-20: 'sic est: acerba fata Romanos agunt / scelusque fraternae necis, / ut immerentis fluxit in terram Remi / sacer nepotibus cruor.' A grim proof of this hypothesis had occurred in the 1

Cf. Virgil, Bue. 1.24-5.

62

THE

PROEM

TO THE

'THEBAID'

days of Lucan, when Nero disposed of his adopted brother and rival Britannicus. In telling the story, Tacitus remarked that some Romans sought a justification for Nero's action by citing 'antiquas fratrum discordias et insociabile regnum' (Ann. 13.17). 1 The words, in their rhythm, have an epic flavour. Romulus and Remus would be the example most obvious to a Roman, but there were other instances of fraternal discord that could be found in Greek mythology. The two principal exempla were undoubtedly the myth of Thyestes and Atreus and that of Eteocles and Polynices. In deciding to make fraternal strife the subject of his epic, Statius must have been immediately attracted to the Theban story. The myth of Thyestes and Atreus had been frequently used before his day, and was indeed rather trite. 2 Most recently it had been made the subject of a lurid tragedy by Seneca. Statius even refers to it as typical of the subject-matter of tragedy (Silv. 5-3-96-7). In any case, the nature of the myth made it unsuitable for full-scale epic treatment; but the war of the Seven against Thebes was more than adequately supplied with episodes for elaboration. It would be wrong to see in the Thebaid any subtle political allegory. If any contemporary events were in Statius' mind they were surely those of the reign of Nero and its aftermath. Statius had lived through the chaos of 69, when, as he says, 'sacrilegis lucent Capitolia taedis, / et Senonum furias Latiae sumpsere cohortes' (Silv. 5-3-197-8). He could think of the corrupt members of the Julio-Claudian house. He designated Gaius as 'immitis ... et Furiis agitatus' (Silv. 3.3.70) and termed him a tyrant: 'terribilem adfatu ... visuque tyrannum' (ibid. 72-3). Nero too was a 'rabidus tyrannus' (Silv. 2.7.100); and he was stained with a brother's blood. There was, in truth, a recent historical background for Statius' theme of the devota domus, the horrors of civil war, tyranny and ira. It is true that Domitian was alleged to hate his brother Titus. 3 But it would be absurd to see in the sons of Oedipus any purposeful reflection of the sons of Vespasian. 4 There is nothing to suggest and much to contradict any notion that Statius was a covert enemy of Domitian. On the contrary, in describing the cursed house of Oedipus, Eteocles and Polynices, in which every moral restraint, 1

2

J

Cf. Annals 1.4 ad.fin. (on Germanicus and Drusus) and the acerb remark attributed to Septimius Severns about his son~ in Herodian 3.13. The topos was still going strong in the days of Claudian and it underlies several of his remarks about the 'unanimi fratres' Honorius and Arcadius: cf. Paneg. III Cons. Hon. 6-7, 189 ff.; Gild. 236 ff.; II Ru.fin. 235 ff.; I Eutrop. 281-2; II Eutrop. 546-7. Cf. Goodyear, Aetna, 109. 4 Cf. Snijder, ThehaidIII, 18-20. Suetonius, Titus 9.

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

every bond of pietas was eradicated, Statius implied the possibility of its opposite. Affection and loyalty can exist within a family and rulers (like Theseus and Adrastus in the Thehaid) need not be tyrants. Officially at least Vespasian, Titus and Domitian presented a total antithesis to Oedipus and his sons. Had not the Flavian house saved Rome from tyranny and war? Had not the events of 69 revealed again the menace of division and strife? Such contrasts and parallels may well have been considered by Statius when he commenced work on his epic. In part at least, his analysis of a doomed dynasty is a justification of the Flavian settlement, of 'pax et princeps '. The Thehaid stresses the horrors of disruption and civil discord, into which Rome might fall again were it not for the continuity of rule established by Vespasian and maintained by Titus and Domitian. Search as we may, we will find nothing subversive in the Thehaid. Hindsight may desire that we should, for the Flavian line came to an end in ignominy and execration. But the desire must remain unfulfilled. After setting out the essence of his theme (1-3), Statius goes on to exclude from his narrative all the Theban legends prior to the outbreak of 'profana odia' between Eteocles and Polynices. He has no intention of recounting the 'gentis primordia dirae' (4); he will omit the story of Europa, passing over the 'inexorabile pactum legis Agenoreae' (5-6) and Cadmus' search for his daughter. It would truly be 'longa retro series', if the poet had to deal with these stories, or with Cadmus' sowing of the dragon's teeth, with Amphion's miraculous building of Thebes, with the enmity of Bacchus and Juno against members of the house of Cadmus, with Athamas, Ina and Palaemon (7-14). All these themes, 'gemitus et prospera Cadmi', Statius has decided to pass by, limiting himself to 'Oedipodae confusa domus' (16-17). These lines are a form of the rhetorical figure occultatio, 1 and they are written to remind readers of the early history of 'guilty Thebes'. Many of the stories had been recounted brilliantly in Ovid's Metamorphoses. 2 It is obvious that Statius could not rationally have dealt with all these themes in a single epic; yet they are worthy of a glance to show that Thebes was an urhs nefasta from its origin; in the briefest way Statius outlines the longa series of misfortunes in which the gens dira of Cadmus had been involved. But the limit of the epic will be the final doom of the accursed race. This, then, is the exclusive programme. A more positive definition 1 2

Cf. for further details, Vessey, Philologus 114.120-1. Particularly in books 3-4.

THE

PROEM

TO

THE

'THEBAID'

of the scope of the twelve books is given after the praise of Domitian (33 ff.). A full summary of the principal events and of the dramatis personae is provided. Statius is to narrate the history of the Theban war, of the sceptre that brought death to both Eteocles and Polynices, of their insane hatred that survived even the grave. He glances forward to Creon's refusal to allow the Argive leaders burial (36-7) and to the disastrous outcome of the war which ruined both cities involved in it (37) and which brought in its train unparalleled scenes of bloodshed (38-40). These few lines epitomise and foreshadow the fundamental plan of the epic. Statius then turns to the principal characters: 'quern prius heroum, Clio, dabis?' (41). The sons of Oedipus have both been mentioned already and designated as tyranni (34): Statius now lists the other five Argive princes who are to be slain in the war, and uses the occasion briefly to characterise them: immodicum irae Tydea? laurigeri subitos an vatis hiatus? urget et hostilem propellens caedibus amnem turbidus Hippomedon, plorandaque bella protervi Arcados atque alio Capaneus horrore canendus. (41-5) The order in which the heroes are mentioned coincides with that in which they are killed, save only that Tydeus is listed first although he dies after Amphiaraus has descended into the Underworld. But, after Eteocles and Polynices, Tydeus is the most important of the epic's characters. Adrastus is not included in the catalogue, but he does not die in the war. The programme set out is an almost complete one; not only the limes of the epic is firmly defined but the general course of the war is succinctly specified. The heroes who are actually to take leading roles in the narrative are introduced and what we may term their essential humours recorded. The two sons of Oedipus, crazed by a lust for power, are the agents of destruction. Tydeus is marred by an excess of ira. Amphiaraus is the innocent priest enmeshed in the violence of others. Hippomedon, the giant warrior, is to be destroyed only by a power that is more than human. The boy Parthenopaeus is an object of pity. Capaneus, the scorner of t~e gods, will meet a doom consonant with his impiety. In these monochromatic terms the heroes are consistently presented throughout the Thebaid. They have contrasting characteristics, but all are equally victims of fate. Each one serves as a figuration of a particular vice, virtue or quality. In fact, it is possible to assign to 3

VST

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

each of the major characters (including some not mentioned in the proem) their basic humour: Oedipus: bitterness, hatred Eteocles: tyranny Polynices: vengeance, envy Adrastus: tranquillity, wisdom Tydeus: ira Amphiaraus: priestly piety Hippomedon: brute force Parthenopaeus: innocence Capaneus: blasphemy Theseu~: mercy, justice: the 0eios &vrip All those involved in the war are eradicated through the activity of evil, although not all are personally tainted by it. Oedipus and his sons are the source from which the disease spreads; the deaths of Tydeus, Hippomedon and Capaneus are attributable directly to its corruption. The remainder of the Seven - Adrastus, Amphiaraus, Parthenopaeus are not so much directly seduced by evil as guiltless sacrifices to it. It is possible to trace certain balancing pairs within the Argive leadership. The tolerant wisdom of 'mitis Adrastus' is counterbalanced and finally neutralised by the violence of Tydeus. Amphiaraus' priestly piety is complemented by Capaneus' sacrilegiousness. The brutish strength of Hippomedon contrasts with the youthful gallantry of Parthenopaeus. Other contrasts are also apparent. The awesome hatred of Oedipus, former King of Thebes, finds its polarity in the character of Adrastus (their natures may be summarised in the epithets dirus and mitis which are applied to them) ; 1 Theseus, who appears in the twelfth book, in different way'>embodies the opposite of both Oedipus and Adrastus. He manifestly figures forth the absolute antithesis of Oedipus, who dominates the first part of book 1, but he also mirrors and reflects Adrastus. The King of Argos, as we shall see, is an ideal monarch ( cast in a Stoic mould), who comes to grief by his acquiescence in the turbulent passions of others. Theseus makes no such error and he finally presents the philosopher-king in a perfect form, resolving conflict and giving men peace and equity. In this brief discussion, we may detect two important features of Statius' epic technique. First, the central characters of his epic possess 1

Dirus of Oedipus, e.g. 1.240; mitis of Adrastus, 1.448, 467.

66

THE

PROEM

TO

THE

'THEBAID'

what we may term a 'figural significance', that is they are .figurae or embodiments of various fundamental emotions or qualities. The influence of Lucan and Seneca is here of paramount significance. Statius has virtually allegorised his dramatis personae, a process which he also applied to the divine figures of his epic. 1 Second, Statius constantly and purposefully utilises a process of contrast and antithesis in constructing his narrative. This follows from his figural mode, for no embodiment of vice can be totally comprehensible without a parallel embodiment of virtue. Good and evil are entirely separated and cannot be synthesised. The Thebaid is a battle between the two polarities, both in individuals and in states. Statius' concern for symmetrical balance reflects the Stoic doctrine of the equilibrium of the universe. The position may appear simplistic, especially in its psychological aspects, but it greatly influenced the organisation of material in the Thehaid. Sources and models The myth of Oedipus and his sons was one of the best known in antiquity. No literate man could have been ignorant of it. In epic and in tragedy it had been treated frequently and fully. This fact has made one aspect of research on the Thehaid in years past not a little futile and unhelpful. For a long period, the quest for sources was the chief interest of students of Statius. Such investigations have a limited value, if wrongly pursued. It is as well to state some distinctions basic to the problem. All too often confusion has arisen between what we may term narrative sources and stylistic models. A narrative source is defined as an author to whom Statius turned for details of the story that he was recounting. A stylistic model is a writer whom Statius utilised in creating his language, imagery, characterisation and general colour in accordance with the precepts of imitatio. The two need not always be rigidly distinguished, but they usually present discrete problems. The importance of both questions has been overstressed. The myth of the Thehaid was in no sense obscure, nor do we possess all or most of the works that had been dev9ted to it prior to Statius. Handbooks of mythology - similar to Apollodorus and Hyginus - were readily available. Given the outline of the story, individual authors would have considerable latitude in details, in the disposition of episodes and in the interpretation of action and character. What is common in varying narrations of a myth is unlikely to be of great interest, but when an 1

See below, pp. 75-6, 815--].

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

author decides to innovate and to use a version divergent from all or most other accounts, it may well be worth considering what factors led him to do so. The cataloguing of verbal imitations may be equally barren if they bear no demonstrable relationship to an author's artistic intentions. Similarities of word and phrase are not necessarily significant in themselves, and may be no more than fortuitous, the product of the agglutinative processes of the creative imagination. Echoes and responsions between author and author may at times be intended to evoke associations that enrich their context. At other times they may be the result of aemulatio, a desire to improve upon and to rival a model. But, in general, analysis of imitations in itself, without broader aims, will be of little value in criticism. Ultimately the purpose of 'Qyellenforschung' must be to raise larger critical issues; then it can become, as Niall Rudd has written, 'one of the most illuminating techniques of exploring literature'. 1 But, equally, one should bear in mind the strictures of W. K. Wimsatt on Lowes' Road to Xanadu: 'There is a gross body of life, of sensory and mental experience, which lies behind and in some sense causes every poem, but can never be and need not be known in the verbal and hence intellectual composition which is the poem.' 2 Furthermore, it is impossible to analyse what a poet owed to his predecessors without also considering what he did not owe. Not only what is derivative is germane but, and to a far greater extent, what is original. Sources may provide the foundations, and models some of the exterior ornaments of a poem: but the edifice, in its totality, good or bad, is an independent and integral creation. To enjoy Hamlet, it is not essential to read Belleforest's Histoires tragiques, nor is there any reason to suppose that our appreciation of the drama would be much enhanced by the survival of the so-called Ur-Hamlet. An artist worthy of the name will transform his sources and models far more profoundly than a critic can judge. Elements are thrown into the crucible and fused in a new compound, and it is hardly possible to find or to use a catalyst that can separate them again. In the case of Statius, the extremes of source-analysis have at last fallen into disfavour, though they still exert a certain power among writers who have not made a special study of the question. It is totally irrational to deny Statius any originality or to assert that he never 1 2

Rudd, Phoenix 18.229. Wimsatt, Verhal Ikon,

12;

cf. Marti on Lucan, in Studies in Honor of Ullman

68

1, 1 71- 2 •

SOURCES

AND

MODELS

innovated and was incapable of inventing material for himsel£ Such writers as Heuvel, Turolla, K ytzler and Venini have rightly protested against former accusations of' imitatio servilis' in the Thebaid, 1 and it is no longer to be disputed that, however much imitation may be found in the Thebaid (and every page reveals many reminiscences), however much he may have owed in style, characterisation and episode to his various models, this does not exclude originality and inventiveness. In the same way, Valerius Flaccus, whose chief source was Apollonius and who was an even more constant imitator of Virgil than Statius, has in recent years been given substantial credit for innovation and remodelling. 2 If we can find no earlier treatment of an episode in the Thebaid or if Statius' account diverges from earlier ones, this certainly does not mean that he followed an unknown source (as Legras and Eissfeldt tended to argue) 3 - the explanation of O!iginality is more likely to be valid. It is right at this point to survey some of the predecessors whom Statius studied in preparing for his task. The Theban story is referred to more than once in Homer. 4 This is as we should expect in the case of a myth of obvious antiquity. We may dismiss from our consideration without diffidence the Cyclic Thebaid; even if Statius could have read it (which is dubious)S nothing is less likely than that he would have found it of the remotest use. The long epic of Antimachus of Colophon, so long mooted as a possible 'source' for Statius, may be no less summarily excluded. 6 More potentially important is the work of the Greek tragedians. No certain interrelation has ever been traced between the Thebaid and the surviving dramas of Aeschylus and Sophocles. 7 Euripides' Phoenissae and Supplices were familiar to him, but the value of this fact rests almost solely in the constant divergences that exist between the narratives. 8 It is predictable that Statius should have utilised Euripides. The tragedian was popular in the schools of rhetoric. Heuvel, Thebaidl, 12-13; Turolla, Orpheus 3.150-1; Venini, RJL 95.375, 383, 399-400; Kytzler, Hermes 97.230-1. 2 See, esp., Garson, CQ 13.260-7; CQ 14.268--79; CQ 15.104-20. 3 Legras, Etude, generally in his analysis of Statius' sources; Eissfeldt, Philologus 63. 3784 Cf. Iliad 23.679-80; Odyssey 11.271-80. 424. s Cf. van Ijzeren, Mnem. 56.277; Vessey, Philologus 114.118 n. 1. 6 The evidence from time to time adduced to support this hypothesis (which has often and fruitlessly found its way into discussions of Statius) is summarised and evaluated by Vessey, Philologus 114.118-43. 7 Cf. Legras, Et., 63: 'rien ne prouve que Stace ait mis a profit Jes tragiques grecs, sauf Euripide'. See also, Lehanneur, De Statii Yita .. . , 162. B Statius' use of Euripides will be analysed at length in later chapters: the best treatment remains that of Reussner, De Statio et Euripide. 1

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

Qyintilian and others affirmed that he was most useful for men of affairs.1 His pithy sententiae were held to be memorable and instmctive and furthermore he was of especial value in the study of the emotions embraced in the category 'pathos'. 2 Statius had also profited from his study of tragedies of Seneca, and in particular Thyestes, Oedipus and the uncompleted Phoenissae.3 Callimachus also provided some material for the Thehaid, and perhaps more than we are now able to detect. From him, Statius almost certainly derived the details of the myth of Linus and Coroebus in book 1 as well as sorrie ideas in book 12.4 Here again all is as we should expect; Callimachus had long been popular with the docti poetae and Statius refers to him with respect in the Silvae. 5 It is also proper to mention the Argonautica of Apollonius which contributed something to the narrative of Hypsipyle in book 5 of the Thehaid. Statius did not hesitate to introduce episodes under the direct influence of a number of models. As typical examples of this process, the following may be cited: (1) The appearance of the ghost of Laius to Eteocles in 2.1 ff.: largely inspired by Seneca, Tliyestes 1--121and Agamemnon 1-56, with imitations of Aeneid 2.268 ff., 4. 173 ff., 5.700 ff., 8. 18 ff. (2) The necromancy in 4.406 ff.; inspired by Seneca, Oedipus 530-658 and Lucan, Bellum civile 6.419 ff. (3) The funeral games in book 6: an ancient part of the story of the Seven against Thebes, but in Statius exclusively founded on Iliad 23 and Aeneid 5. (4) The teichoscopia in 7.243 ff.: jointly inspired by Iliad 3. 161 ff. and Euripides, Phoenissae 88 ff. (5) The episode of Bacchus' tigers in 7.564 ff.: directly imitated from Aeneid 7.475 ff. (6) Hippomedon's fatal struggle with the River Ismenus in book 9 is based on Achilles' µax_,i 1tcxpcxrr0Taµ1os in Iliad 21. (7) Juno's intervention in 10.2 ff. with its ecphrasis on the House of Sleep follows Ovid, Metamorphoses 11.583 ff. (8) The heroic tale of Hopleus and Dymas in 10.347-448 is in open emulation of the exploit of Nisus and Euryalus in Aeneid 9. 176-449. These instances, which are merely a selection, demonstrate the 1 2

3

Qy!nt~!an 10.1.67; ~~- Diony~ius Halic., De Imit. 2.11 (Usener); Dio Chrysostom 18. . 7 Qymultan 10.1.67: m adfectibus vero cum OII)nibus mirus tum in iis qui miseratione constant facile praecipuus'. For examples of Statius' use of Senecan tragedy, see below, pp. 7 2- , 6-8 _ 251 3 3 7 4 255, 271-6. See below, pp. 101, 133. s Silvae 1.2. 253 ; . ,;o8, 157'. 53

70

SOURCES

AND

MODELS

manner in which Statius sought for material among the forerunners whom he esteemed, and how in most cases he intended to rival their work by his own achievement. In some cases, the incidents themselves had become epic conventions, which were an almost compulsory part of such a poem as the Thebaid. There are other episodes in which his models (if any) are not so obvious. Two examples may be given here: the account of the death and descent to the Underworld of Amphiaraus in books 7 and 8 and the touching story of Atys (8.554 ff.); although both of these incidents contain verbal echoes of earlier writers, the basic conception and detail are primarily Statian. 1 Virgilian reminiscences are constant and continuous, just as are echoes of Lucretius in the Aeneid. 2 These are not found only in episode and in language, but also in characterisation. Adrastus is in many ways another Latinus; Capaneus reproduces Mezentius; Tydeus is not unlike Turnus; Hypsipyle owes something to Dido; Parthenopaeus embodies some traits borrowed from Camilla, and Menoeceus is similar to Pallas. 3 The gods of the Thebaid are generally based on their Virgilian counterparts, but with important differences in function. 4 The fact remains, however, that in his most striking creations Statius had no obvious or single model in Virgil. 5 The seeds of war

In book 1, Statius firmly establishes the basic motifs and the seminal causes of the whole epic. Immediately after the proem he describes how Oedipus cursed his sons. The story was old and famous. 6 In the Phoenissae of Euripides we are told that Eteocles and Polynices kept their father imprisoned, so that, as far as possible, his fate might be forgotten (63 ff.). Resentful of this callousness, the old man curses them. This is basically similar to the version in the Cyclic Thebaid, in which Oedipus cursed his sons because of the insults they offered him. 7 Statius presents a different version, and a more horrific one. Oedipus is immediately characterised and his past is recalled: impia iam merita scrutatus lumina dextra merserat aeterna damnatum nocte pudorem Oedipodes longaque animam sub morte tenebat. (46-8) 2 See below, pp. 262-9 and 289-92. Cf. Knight, Roman Virgil, 100, 119-20. 4 3 Gossage, in Virgil (ed. Dudley), 87. Ibid. 79-81. . . s See the investigations of ten Kate, QJ!omodoheroes . .. descrzhantur,passim. 6 Cf. Vessey, Philologus 114.124-5 on a supposed inter-relation between Statius and a . fragment of Antimachus (in Wyss, p. 79). 7 Cyclic Thehaid, frgg. 2, 3 Kinkel: cf. Huxley, Greek Epic Poetry, 49-50. 1

71

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

The first few words are carefully chosen. Oedipus' blindness is the result of guilt and of his own sin; he is an accursed man, now shrouded in an eternal and deathlike darkness. In the consciousness of his own impiety, he had torn out his eyes with his own hand. Euripides had preferred the commoner view that he used a golden brooch pin (Phoen. 62). Statius follows Seneca, who had described the act in horrific terms: violentus audax vultus, iratur ferox tantum furentis; gemuit et dirum fremens manus in ora torsit. at contra truces oculi steterunt et suam intenti manum ultro insecuntur, vulneri occurrunt suo. scrutatur avidus manibus uncis lumina radice ab ima funditus vulsos simul evolvit orbes ( Oedipus 960-7) The occurrence of the verb scrutari in both passages is sufficient to show that Statius' lines are intended to recall the description in Seneca's drama. The Oedipus of the Thehaid is the Senecan Oedipus; it is as if Statius was continuing the story from the point at which the tragedian had left it. It is noticeable too that Seneca lays great stress on ira as the emotional force that drives Oedipus to mutilate himself: it has passed beyond all limits and become madness (Juror). Furthe~, the Senecan passage is an extreme, though not atypical, instance of what may be described as lexical exaggeration; the vocabulary of horror is heaped up in line after line to heighten the rhetorical colour. This is a prominent characteristic of the mannered writing of the first century, and Statius uses irhabitually in the Thehaid. Oedipus, in Statius' version, has withdrawn from public view of his own will: illum indulgentem tenebris imaeque recessu sedis inaspectos caelo radiisque penates servantem tamen adsiduis circumvolat alis saeva dies animi, scelerumque in pectore Dirae. (49-52) Blind, willingly embracing darkness, Oedipus is psychologically illuminated by resentment. His withdrawal from the world is a form of indulgentia; he is isolated not only physically but emotionally. He has hidden himself from heaven and from light. The idea is partly derived from Seneca's tragedy, in which Oedipus, after he has torn out his eyes remarks: 'iuvant tenebrae' (999). Relevant too are the following line/ 'factum est periclum lucis; attollit caput / cavisque lustrans orbibus

72

THE

SEEDS

OF

WAR

caeli plagas / noctem experitur' (971 ff.). To Oedipus, light is dangerous; he is forced to withdraw into night, into an existence which is death in life. Statius picks up the idea again in book 8, where Oedipus is described as 'semper inaspectum diraque in sede latentem' (240); he lurks, like some horrific denizen of the lower world, full of menacing hatred. Fully to understand 1.49 ff. we must remember Aeneid 6.866, where Aeneas, seeing Marcellus in the Underworld, remarks: 'nox atra caput circumvolat '. It is the black night of Death. 1 Statius has adapted the phrase, substituting the unexpected 'saeva dies' for 'nox atra'; Oedipus is blind, but there is a savage daylight in his mind, winged like Death itself. The complex of ideas - darkness, light, death, cruelty- is inextricably associated in a phrase that seems almost paradoxical. But it is well suited to Oedipus' condition. In the murk of his living death, the only day that the old man has, his bitterness hovers about him like personified Death. Light and darkness, withdrawal and blindness, have been imbued with a symbolic content, so that Oedipus himself is a figuration of doom and destruction. 2 Not all is horror. There is pathos too in his blindness, which appears in the lines that introduce his curse: tune vacuos orbes, crudum ac miserabile vitae supplicium, ostentat caelo manibusque cruentis pulsat inane solum saevaque ita voce precatur (53-5) Oedipus' blindness is a punishment for his past sin; this fact appears strongly in Seneca, where Oedipus denies himself death so that he may suffer more.3 He had not knowingly sinned, but nonetheless he has to pay the penalty; the epithet miserahilefar a moment glances back to the whole tragedy that has been enacted at Thebes before this climactic event. Oedipus is now a terrible object, but he is still deserving of pity. The words 'vacuos' and 'inane' increase the sense of helpless frustration which this empty shell that was once a man and a king now feels in his vengeful darkness. Seneca never refers to the curse. His drama ends, like that of his model, Sophocles, with Oedipus leaving Thebes for exile. 4 In the Thehaid, the curse was essential and Statius endows it with great 1 2

3

4

Cf. also, Horace, Sat. 2.1.58: 'Mors atris circumvolat alis.' Cf. Turolla, Orpheus 3.134-6. In his characterisation of Oedipus at this point, Statius may also have been thinking of the blind Phineus as described by Apollonius, Argon. 2. 178-201: Oedipus is compared to Phineus at Thebaid 8.25 5-8. Seneca, Oedipus 933-4. . In the Thebaid, Oedipus is driven into exile by Creon after the death of his sons: see below, pp. 279-81.

73

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

importance. Oedipus has been portrayed in such a fashion that he seems to be a damned spirit, even though he is still in the world. It is appropriate th~t he should appeal to the infernal deities who preside over the punishment of the guilty dead (56 ff.), calling them to his aid. He has a claim on them, as a review of his life from birth to blindness all too clearly shows (60-72). The prayer that he is making to them is one worthy of fulfilment, inspired as it is by Juror (73-4). Statius does not give much prominence to any harsh or unfeeling treatment that Oedipus may have suffered from his sons; the old man remarks as he utters the fatal curse: orbum visu regnisque carentem non regere aut dictis maerentem flectere adorti, quos genui quocumque taro: quin ecce superbi - pro dolor - et nostro iamdudum in funere reges insultant tenebris gemitusque odere patemos. (74-8) The reasons are indefinite enough and need be no more than bitter fantasies, the rationalisation of a burning hate against all who still have sight and power. The grim truth is that Oedipus is grieved as much by his loss of kingship as his blindness; what enrages him is to know that his sons are established as 'super bi reges' on the throne that once was his. He demands vengeance from Tisiphone the Fury, since heaven is apparently unwilling to act - and it is a vengeance that will punish all his seed: hisne etiam funestus ego? et videt ista deorum ignavus genitor? tu saltem debita vindex hue ades et totos in poenam ordire nepotes. (79-81) The actual terms of his curse are similar to those given by Euripides ( Phoen. 68): Eteocles and Polynices are to become enemies, and the Fury is to destroy all feelings of affection that exist between them. Oedipus knows that they will provide fertile ground, since they are his sons, born into a dynasty that is doomed and with an inborn tendency to evil. Oedipus' hopes and prayers are all centred on violence and impiety (' quad cupiam ... nefas ', 86). Oedipus is yearning for blood and cruelty. 1 Oedipus rightly recognises that his prayers are 'perversa' (59), that is that they run contrary to natural affection. His whole being has 1

The two occurrences of video in Oedipus' speech should not go unnoticed: 'tuque umbrifero Styx livida fundo / quam video' (; 8-9); 'da, Tartarei regina barathri / quod cupiam vi vidisse nefas' (86-7). All that the blind Oedipus sees is the world of the dead all he wishes to see is the destruction of his sons. '

74

THE

SEEDS

OF WAR

become dehumanised and twisted; all that is left is a single, obsessive desire for poena, for his sons to share in the punishment that had befallen him. His curse is the first cause of war, because it raises from the Underworld a supernatural entity which once loosed can never again be restrained. Tisiphone hears his prayers and hastens to fulfil them (88 ff.). A Fury had had a part in the story since the earliest times, but we need not look back as far as Antimachus for Statius' inspiration at this point. 1 Tisi phone in the Thebaid is in part derived from Virgil's Allecto (Aeneid 7.323 ff.); war, crime, passion and destruction are Allecto's business, and, addressing her, Juno mentions an ability that presages Tisi phone's role in Statius: 'tu potes unanimos armare in proelia fratres / atque odiis versare domos' (3 3 5-6). A Fury too appears at the beginning of Seneca's Thyestes, and the characteristics of the breed are well summarised by him in the Hercules Furens: 'absint ab imo Tartari fundo excitae / Eumenides, ignem flammeae spargant comae,/ viperea saevae verbera incutiant manus' (86-8). Statius' description of Tisiphone is an elaboration of the traditional Fury of literature. In Virgil, however, Allecto is raised by Juno and her activity is curtailed by the goddess in mid course (7.552 ff.). In the Thebaid, Tisiphone enters the world at the behest of man and her activity continues throughout the epic. 2 Although invested with the full panoply of a divine being, Tisiphone has been to some degree demythologised by Statius. She has become afigura of violence and madness, a personification of odium and Juror~· she is an objectified embodiment of Oedipus' spiritual state. Oedipus has brought her into existence and, indeed, Tisi phone is nothing other than a reflexion of him. His madness, the strength of his curse, has a life of its own. Tisi phone represents that life. She has been allegorised in a manner often found in the Thebaid. In this, Statius has moved away from Virgil. Lucan had discarded all divine machinery in the Bellum ciyz"fe,so that the conflict rested on man, passion and fate. Statius had to restore the 'deorum ministeria' 3 in his mythological epic, but Lucan's heritage is apparent in his process of allegorisation applied to his deities, as well as in his use of abstract personifications like Pieta,s and Virtus. 4 C. S. Lewis, speaking of the Thebaid, percipiently commented on this facet ofStatius' art: 'Its gods 1

3

4

2 Cf. Gossage, in Virgil (ed. Dudley), 81-2. Vessey, Philologus 114.124-5. The phrase occurs in Petronius, Satyricon 118. On Lucan's anthropocentric approach, cf. Piacentini, Osservaz.ioni, I 8 ff. Such abstractions had a long history in ancient poetry: see Hinks, Myth and Allegory, rn8 ff., for a detailed investigation.

75

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

are only abstractions and its abstractions, though confessedly belonging to the inner world, are almost gods.' 1 The arrival of Tisiphone at Thebes produces a sudden change in the psychological state of Eteocles and Polynices. It was an inevitable change, for a double sovereignty could not last. In the Phoenissae of Euripides, the two brothers are alarmed by their father's curse and make a covenant by which the elder of the two, Eteocles, is to reign first and the younger, Polynices, go into voluntary exile (69 ff.). The account in the Thehaid is different; Statius attributes the fatal division of power solely to the intervention of the Fury, that is, Oedipus' curse produces a complete internal bouleversement in his sons: protinus attoniti fratrum sub pectore motus, gentilesque animos subiit furor aegraque laetis invidia atque parens odii metus, inde regendi saevus amor, ruptaeque vices iurisque secundi ambitus impatiens, et summo dulcius unum stare loco, sociisque comes discordia regnis. (125-30) Lust for power now dominates the sons of Oedipus; the savagery that animates their father and which is a characteristic of the doomed dynasty has been transferred like a plague to them. The seeds were there; the curse of Oedipus, through the Fury, merely serves to bring to the surface what was always latent. Madness (Juror) seizes the brothers' hearts quite suddenly and in its train come all the other vices necessary to eradicate the entire family. As the Stoics believed, all evil is insanity and to become subject to one sin is to embrace them all. 2 There is no attempt to rationalise the brothers' changed emotions; from their accursed ancestry the event was inevitable. ' The idea of the devota domus with its ineluctable inclination to selfdestruction comes out strongly in Senecan tragedy. In the Plwenissae, Oedipus, wandering in exile with Antigone, comments on the impending war between his sons. Thebes itself is a city of doom: 'optime regni mei / fatum ipse novi; nemo sine sacra feret / illud cruore' (275-7). Oedipus knows well what is to come: ruin and death, so that no one will be unaware that he has begotten sons (287). Antigone designates her brothers as 'graviter furentes' (291), and her father elaborates on the statement: illis parentis ullus aut aequi est amor avidis cruoris imperi armorum doli, 1

Lewis, Allegory of Love, 56.

2

See above, pp. 58- 9.

THE

SEEDS

OF

WAR

diris, scelestis, breviter ut dicam, meis? certant in omne facinus et pensi nihil ducunt, ubi ipsos ira praecipites agit, nefasque nullum per nefas nati putant. non patris illos tangit affiicti pudor, non patria; regno pectus attonitum furit.

(295-302)

Statius' acquaintance with this passage may be taken as certain, and it is confirmed by the occurrence of 'attonitus' and 'pectus' in both Thebaid 1.125 and in Oedipus 302. Seneca and Statius also show a striking parallelism of sentiment. Seneca depicts the brothers as spurred on by ira to the point of madness (furit, 302). Eteocles and Polynices, in both authors, are to be destroyed primarily because they are Oedipus' sons. This is the first cause, and the other factors - lust for power, disregard for right, hatred, ambition - follow from it. There are analogies too in the Thyestes. 1 In that drama, two brothers, cursed by their father and members of a devota domus, claim the same throne and meditate mutual vengeance. Eteocles is, like Atreus, a finished and typical tyrannus, crazed with his power and scornful of morality. In the Thyestes, a Fury sends the ghost of Tantalus to stir Atreus to acts of madness. Her language is highly reminiscent of Statius': perge, detestabilis umbra, et penates impios furiis age: certetur omni scelere et alterna vice stringatur ensis: ne sit irarum modus rabies parentum duret et longum nefas eat in nepotes. (23-8)

Ira is to pass beyond every limit and become insanity. Both Statius and Seneca make it clear that an entire family is implicated in doom. As we have seen, Oedipus invoked Tisiphone with this fact in mind (80-1). Later Jupiter states his intention of eliminating the whole 'exitiale genus' ( 1.242-3). The Fury of the Thyestes says to Tantalus: superbis fratribus regna excidant repetantque profugos; dubia violentas domus fortuna reges inter incertos labet; miser ex potente fiat, ex misero potens fluctuque regnum casus adsiduo ferat. (32-6) The means by which the house of Tantalus is to be destroyed is almost the same as that which brings about the war between Eteocles and 1

Cf. Venini, RIL 99.157 ff.; RFC 95-424-5.

77

THE

'THEBAID':

BASIS

AND

FORM

Polynices. At the root of the profana odia lies superhia, which refuses to accept loss of power and vicissitudes of fortune. In the Thyestes, the Fury stresses that every moral constraint within the family of Tantalus is to be ruthlessly removed: nihil sit ira quad vetitum putet fratrem expavescat frater et natum parens natusque patrem, liberi pereant male, 'peius tamen nascantur (39-42)

Ira is to be given free rein; the whole kingdom is to be handed over to 'Libido victrix' (46). Atreus and Thyestes will respect no right, human or divine: 'fratris et fas et fides / iusque omne pereat' (47-8). The Fury's words recall Statius' summary of the results of Tisiphone's intervention at Thebes: 'periit ius fasque bonumque / et vitae mortisque pudor' (1.154-5). The tone and content of Seneca and Statius are virtually identical: the doomed house, filled with hereditary madness, falls easy victim to the Fury's plans. Odium, ira, discordia, caedes, see/us are to reign;pietas, ius,fas are eliminated by the overpowering desire for regnum and revenge. Eteocles and Polynices are interested only in nuda potestas ( 150-1), the prize they seek is to place themselves in the throne of Oedipus, to rule over a realm damned by the gods: 'loca , 279. 4 See below, pp. 298-9.

HIPPOMEDON

AND

PARTHENOPAEUS

impar amnisque virique, / indignante deo: nee enim dat terga nee ullis / frangitur ille minis, venientesque obvious undas / intrat et obiecta dispellit flumina parma' (469-72). It is a nightmarish scene. For a time Hippomedon holds his own, but at length, slowly but surely, the river crushes him (487 ff.); at the same time the Thebans hurl rocks and spears at the hero they had once feared, preventing him from reaching either bank. In the end it is not Ismenus who delivers the final blow, for Juno pleads with the King of the gods, and he commands the river to ease its attack (510-21). It is, however, too late for Hippomedon, now utterly broken and too weak to resist the ceaseless hail of missiles from the Theban army (526 ff.). He dies, falling like some vast oak-tree on Mount Haemus (531 ff.). Only Hypseus is brave enough to despoil the corpse (540 ff.), but he soon pays for his audacity: Capaneus, who now assumes the mantle of Tydeus and Hippomedon, strikes him down in rapid vengeance. 1 The story of Hippomedon's downfall is a powerful and imaginative variant on its Homeric model. 2 At the beginning of his aristeia, the hero seems to have attained a more than human power: but, like the other Argive leaders, he over-reaches himself, and his end is pitiful. Hippomedon is the least individuated of the seven princes; he is a primitive character, whose whole being is centred on his immense physical might. For a time, he is indisputably master of the situation, as irresistible as the spirit of war itself. But, unwittingly, he provokes the wrath of a god, and, as a result, he is reduced to a wreck, denied even the heroic death which his earlier achievements might be thought to have merited: 'quid faciat bellis obsessus et undis? / nee fuga iam misero, nee magnae copia morris' (490-1). Just before his death, Hippomedon invokes Mars, asking him if he had deserved so humiliating a fate: fluvione - pudet - Mars inclyte, merges hanc animam, segnesque lacus et stagna subibo ceu pecoris custos, subiti torrentis iniqui interceptus aquis? adeone occumbere ferro non merui? (506-10) 1

2

Capaneus at line 565 calls himself 'ultor'; ignorant of the future he refers to Hippomedon's funeral: 'interea iustos dum reddimus ignes'. The words glance forward to Creon's inhumanity in books I I and I 2. On Hippomedon's aristeia and death, cf. also the discussion of Klinnert, CapaneusHippomedon, 88-99, and for a thorough investigation of its Homeric models, see Juhnke, Homerisches, 24-44,

297

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

Hippomedon draws a distinction between himself and the mass of mankind; he does not see that death is common to all, whether warriors or herdsmen, and that it must be accepted in whatever form it comes. These last, despairing words, however, are not wholly unjustified. The real reason why Hippomedon has died is that he has participated in an impious and accursed war; his wretched end proves that, against Fate, human strength is of no avail. Hippomedon gloried in his physical power; but, at the last, he might just as well have been one of the herdsmen to which he refers with scorn. The darkness of Thebes has enveloped Hippomedon as totally as it had previously enwrapped Amphiaraus and Tydeus. If the demise of Hippomedon demonstrates the futility of human strength, the tragedy of Parthenopaeus shows that innocence is no better protection against destiny. The µax'll 1rapCX1ToTaµ1os shows Statius at his most Homeric; in the second half of book 9, however, he is inspired chiefly by Virgil, from whom, as we have seen, he derived his penchant for the Heldenknahe.1Statius' account of Parthenopaeus' death owes something to Virgil's story of Camilla in Aeneid 11 ; 2 and much of the narrative is concerned with Atalanta and her patroness, Diana. If Hippomedon was the most masculine of warriors, there is something feminine in the boyish Parthenopaeus and it is appropriate that it should be his mother and a virgin goddess who seek to save him from his doom. Hippomedon's battle with Ismenus is a surrealist nightmare, harsh, bitter and savage. The rest of the book is dominated by pathos. It begins with a portrayal of the sorrowing Atalanta, who has for some time been troubled with dreams portending the death of her beloved son. Between Atalanta in Arcadia and Parthenopaeus in Theban territory there is a mysterious rapport; as time goes on, the truth grows ever stronger to Atalanta: her son will die (570 ff.). The dreams and visions that she sees, though symbolic, leave no other explanation. In her dejection, she appeals to Diana for help (608 ff.). The goddess is eager to save Parthenopaeus for the sake of her companion, but no such interference with Fate is possible. As Diana makes her way to Thebes, she meets her brother Apollo (himself still grieving for Amphiaraus); he proclaims to her with bitter acquiescence the fact that the future is already predetermined and that nothing can now be done to save Parthenopaeus from death: 1

2

See above, p. 285 n. 3. Cf. Legras, Et., 112.

HIPPOMEDON

AND

PARTHENOPAEUS

fida rogat genetrix: utinam indulgere precanti fata darent ... nee tu peritura movere auxilia et maestos in vanum perge labores. finis adest iuveni, non hoe mutabile fatum, nee te de dubiis fraterna oracula fallunt. (652-3, 659-62) These lines are, perhaps, the saddest exposition of a theme which underlies the whole Thehaid. A mother's grief, a goddess' favour cannot prevent the boy's death. All that Diana can do is to add some lustre (decus, 663) to his end, and to ensure that whoever slays him does not escape the penalty for crime. Diana calls Parthenopaeus an 'insons puer' (666), the same words that Ismenus had used, earlier in the book, of the dead Crenaeus (443). 1 In the meanwhile, battle is raging fiercely at Thebes (670 ff.); Diana arrives to find Parthenopaeus highly elated by the fighting (' illum ... coepta iam caede superbum ', 683). Statius then provides (as he had done for Eunaeus, Atys and Crenaeus) 2 a finely wrought description of Parthenopaeus' accoutrements and appearance, full of touches of pathos. The boy's exquisitely caparisoned horse, like its master, is having its first taste of warfare: 'nescius armorum et primas tune passus habenas / venator raptabat equus' (684-5 ). It is the steed that Parthenopaeus had used when hunting with his mother in Arcadia, and around its neck is a circlet of boars' tusks, 'nemoris notae' (688-9). Parthenopaeus is decked out in purple and gold, with a sword that is too heavy for him and a jewelled helmet with a 'flowing plume' (690 ff.). It is plain that he takes a boyish delight in the glamorous accessories of war (c£ hilaris, 698), and that he does not understand its real horror. As a mark of his immaturity, the tunic he wears was woven for him by his mother ('hoe neverat unum / mater opus', 690-1). His hair gleams in the sunshine; he tries to mask his youthful beauty with a look of fierceness - but that merely adds to his charm: tune dulce comae radiisque trementes dulce nitent visus et, quas dolet ipse morari nondum mutatae rosea lanugine malae: nee formae sibi laude placet multumque severis asperat ora minis, sed frontis servat honorem ira decens. (701-6). 1

2

442-3: 'at tu, qui tumid us spoliis et sanguine gaudes / insontis pueri'; 665-6: 'quicumque nefandam / insontis pueri scelerarit sanguine dextram '. 7.652 ff.; 8.564 ff.; 9.332 ff. 2

99

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

This graphic portrait intensifies the pathos of Parthenopaeus' destiny. Even the Thebans, seeing his youth and remembering their own sons, forebear to attack him:' dat sponte locum Thebana iuventus, / natorum memores, in ten taque tela retorquen t, / sed premi t et saevas miseran tibus ingerit hastas' (706-8). Like Atys and Crenaeus before him, Parthenopaeus is living in a world of fantasy, only too soon to be shattered. War is at present a source of pleasure and excitement to the boy; but Diana sees to the heart of the matter. Grief floods into her heart, as she looks upon the futile, febrile enthusiasm of the doomed youth: 'talia cernenti mitis subit alta Dianae / corda dolor, fletuque genas violata "quad" inqui t, / "nunc tibi, quad leti quaeram dea fida propinqui / effugium?"' (712-15). Parthenopaeus at present appears 'saevus', but he is also 'miserandus' (715-16), for he has fallen in love with glory, and that fatal fascination can lead only to the grave: 'cruda heu festinaque virtus / suasit et hortatrix animosi gloria leti' (716-17). Parthenopaeus' ingenuousness has led him into a pathetic imitation of his elders' folly. Diana, however, fulfils her promise to add decus to his last hour; she imparts to him her special protection, supplying him secretly with her own arrows and lending him a temporary invulnerability (728 ff.). It is through this action of Diana, prompted by pity, that Parthenopaeus is enabled to enjoy an aristeia similar to that of the other princes (736 ff.). At once he loses every restraint and forgets about his mother, about Arcadia and about his own life: tum vero exserto circumvolat igneus arcu nee se mente regit, patriae martisque suique immemor, et nimium caelestibus utitur armis

(736-8)

This rashness, arising not from his own strength but from his divine weapons is Parthenopaeus' simulacrum offuror 1 It possesses nothing of the frightening grandeur of the triumphs of Amphiaraus, Tydeus and Hippomedon: for, beneath his external fa~ade of valour, Parthenopaeus remains merely a 'puer improbus' (744). For a time he dominates the field, but his end is drawing near (745-75). 2 1

2

At 739 ff., Parthenopaeus is compared to a young lion: 'ut lea, cui parvo mater Gaetula cruentos / suggerit ipsa cibos, cum primum crescere sensit / calla iubis torvusque novas respexit ad ungues, / indignatur ali, tandemque effusus apertos / liber amat campos et nescit in antra reverti.' The picture aptly evokes Parthenopaeus' sense of liberation from maternal control as he plays the part of an adult warrior. The simile responds with that applied to Atys at 8.572 ff. (on which see above, p. 290). In this passage Statius twice reminds us that Parthenopaeus' victories depend on his use of Diana's arrows: 'sed divom fortia quid non/ tela queant?' (752-3); 'nullum sine numine [P, vulnere, codd.] fugit / missile' (770-1).

300

HIPPOMEDON

AND

PARTHENOPAEUS

Parthenopaeus' whole aristeia is a pitiful self-delusion, won not by his own merits but through the surreptitious aid of Diana. This is shown in his confrontation with Amphion :1 this mature warrior sees that Parthenopaeus is only a puer and that his brief triumph is but a 'mora fati' (779-80 ). He knows too that the boy regards war as a game (' dum ferus hie vero desaevit pulvere Mavors / proelia lude domi', 785-6). Parthenopaeus answers Amphion's warning with foolish taunts, and, goaded by them, the Theban attacks. He does not regard the boy as any real threat. In the normal course of events. Parthenopaeus would have been killed, just as Atys and Crenaeus before him: but Diana reveals herself and saves him (805-7). The goddess assumes the appearance of Dorceus, to whom Atalanta had entrusted the care of her son,2 and makes a final effort to dissuade Parthenopaeus from further involvement in the battle: her plea is instantly rejected (808-20). Until this moment, Diana has succeeded in delaying her protege's death, but this cannot continue. Venus requests Mars to put an end to Diana's interference, and, with deep regret, Diana leaves the field of battle (821-40). Nothing can now prolong Parthenopaeus' life: he soon begins to feel his strength waning, and realises that death is near: ipsum autem et lassa fidit prosternere dextra, nunc servat vires: etenim hue iam fessus et illuc mutabat turmas; urgent praesagia mille funeris, et nigrae praecedunt nubila mortis ... . . . iam vires paulatim abscedere sensit, sensit et exhaustas umero leviore pharetras. (847-51, 853-4) The boy, raised for a time to the stature of a hero by Diana's succour, is now reduced again to reality: before long, he meets the massive Dryas ('saevi conspecta mole Dryantos', 861). There can be no second salvation for Parthenopaeus. Dryas first kills his horse, and then gives the boy a mortal wound (866 ff.). 3 The Arcadians carry their young prince from the fray; he is now a ghastly caricature of his earlier beauty, a bleeding wreck on the point of death (877 ff.). In his final speech, 1 2

3

In book

10, it is Amphion who intercepts Hopleus and Dymas. 808-9: 'Haerebat iuveni devinctus amore pudico / Maenalius Dorceus': for Dorceus' 'amor pudicus ', cf. the remarks-of Schetter, Untersuchungen, p. Statius' here envisages the Greek custom, by which a mature warrior protects and trains a younger one, as in the case of Euryalus and Nisus in the Aeneid, and Hopleus and Dymas in Thehaid 10. Dryas is himself slain by an unknown hand (see above, p. 206): 'tune cadit ipse Dryas mirum - nee vulneris unquam / conscius: olim auctor teli causaeque patebunt' (875-6): cf. Aeneid II.864 ff. on the fate of Arruns, killer of Camilla.

301

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

Parthenopaeus remembers his mother and becomes sane again, conscious of his own youth and his fatal vanity: 'merui, genetrix, poenas invita capesse; / arma puer rapui, nee te retinente quievi, / nee tibi sollicitae tandem inter bella peperci' (891-3). Parthenopaeus has uttered his own epitaph. He has been destroyed by his own innocence of the world's horror, by his own adolescent craving for glory. 1 He abandoned the bucolic simplicity of Arcadia and his mother's protective love to enter a savage and brutal war: and from it there could be no return. Hippomedon and Parthenopaeus are a poignant contrast. Amphiaraus had been supported by Apollo, Tydeus by Pallas, but Hippomedon had stood alone in the fury of war, pitting his strength against destiny. What Hippomedon achieved, he achieved unaided, and it was only a god who could terminate his victorious progress. Parthenopaeus, however, had little prowess of his own; his time of triumph was lent to him by a goddess. In age, in physique, in his aristeia and death, Parthonopaeus is the antithesis of Hippomedon. Book 9 ends in sorrow, revealing the emptiness and fatuity of war. It remains to survey the structure of book 9. This may be summarised as follows: Fighting around the corpse of Tydeus

*

*

*

195-224 Hippomedon assumes Tydeus' pre-eminence 225-314 Hippomedon's aristeia at the river Invocation of the Muses 3 1 5-5o

446-521 522 -39 540-69

The death of Crenaeus The grief of Ismenis Ismenus stirred to anger The µ6:x111rapcrrroT6:µ1os The death of Hippomedon Capaneus slays H ypseus and takes Hippomedon' s place as leader of the Argives

*

*

Atalanta's fear Her appeal to Diana Diana's meeting with Apollo Fighting at Thebes Description of Parthenopaeus 1

For the 'sentimentality' Untersuchungen, 48-9.

*

of Statius' treatment of Parthenopaeus' aristeia, cf. Schetter,

302

HIPPOMEDON

712-75

AND

PARTHENOPAEUS

Diana's intervention Parthenopaeus' aristeia Amphion and Parthenopaeus Diana's last plea Diana driven from the battlefield The death of Parthenopaeus

It is plain that, in the story of Hippomedon, the death of Crenaeus is a turning-point. Crenaeus is a foreshadowing of Parthenopaeus; the grief of Ismenus prefigures the agony of Atalanta; just as Ismenus is aroused by his daughter's prayer, so Diana goes to the aid of Parthenopaeus in response to Atalanta's supplication. The entire incident of Crenaeus i a central block, which divides Hippomedon's aristeia from his battle with Ismenus and his subsequent death. In the second half of the book, Diana is really the most prominent figure, and is the motivating power behind events. The narrative is carried along by a developing and interlocking chain of confrontations; Atalanta/Diana, Diana/ Apollo, Diana/Parthenopaeus, Parthenopaeus/ Am phi on, Diana (Dorceus)/Parthenopaeus, Diana/Mars, Parthenopaeus/Dryas. Only at two points can Parthenopaeus be said to exist in isolation: in the noble portrait of him at 683 ff. (before Diana aids him), and at the moment of his death (after Diana has abandoned him). Of all the Argive leaders, only Parthenopaeus does not dominate his own aristeia: he is utterly dependent on divine help. This follows from his comparative weakness and inexperience, and it is cunningly mirrored in the structure of book 9. The nocturnal raid By the end of the ninth book, the Argives have lost Amphiaraus, Tydeus, Hippomedon and Parthenopaeus. Of their leaders only Capaneus and Polynices remain, for Adrastus is too old to take part in the fighting. 1 The Thebans have so far had the better of the battle, but, in book 10, this situation is partly reversed: by its end, so dispirited have the Thebans become that Menoeceus has had to sacrifice himself for their salvation. 2 Book 10 opens with nightfall. Jupiter's plan is rapidly reaching its climax; he feels no pity for either side, but only for those innocent men who have been dragged unwittingly into the fatal conflict (1-4). Outside the city is a hideous scene of carnage (5 ff.). Both armies feel some 1 Cf. Eteocles' remarks at 3 r-2:

'scilicet Adrasti senium fraterque iuventa / peior et 2 See above, pp. rr7-3r. insanis Capaneus metuendus in armis'.

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

dejection ('par utrimque dolor', II), but the Thebans take heart from the elimination of four of their principal antagonists (II-12). They expect that the Argives will attempt to retreat, and it is decided to encircle their camp to prevent this. As the troops march off on this enterprise, Eteocles praises them for their earlier victories and assures them that they will soon be in possession of the enemy camp and the booty it contains. 1 Eteocles' optimism proves ill-founded. In Argos, the womenfolk are at this time gathered in the temple of Juno, protectress of their city (49 ff.), humbly praying her to aid their husbands in the war. 2 The goddess is moved by their plea, and, although she is aware that she cannot permanently change the course of Fate (70-1), she devises a plan whereby the Thebans will suffer heavy losses. She decides to send Iris to the abode of Sleep, with instructions to the god to lull the Theban sentinels into a deep slumber, so that the Argives will be able to attack them unawares. Although the germinal idea was to be found in Homer (Iliad 14.225 ff.), Statius has based this incident closely on the eleventh book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, in which Juno had sent Iris to visit Somnus, bearing a command that he prepare a dream for Alcyone, disclosing the supposed fate of Ceyx (583 ff.).3 Juno's intervention on behalf of the Argives counterbalances that of Bacchus in favour of the Thebans in book 4; it also, in some ways, responds to Jupiter's action in book 7, for there the King of the Gods had despatched Mercury to the abode of Mars to hasten on the outbreak ofhostilities.4 Statius inserted into the latter episode a bravura description of the palace of the War-god (7.40 ff.), which is stylistically akin to his ecphrasis of the hall of Somnus at ro.84 ff. When Somnus has done his work, it is Thiodamas (inspired by a vision of Amphiaraus) who leads the Argive raid. The first night of the war had been overshadowed by the loss of AmphiAt this moment the Theban warriors are compared to a pack of savage wolves (42-8). This simile corresponds to the one applied to Eteocles at 4.363 ff. (see above, p. 236). In book 4, Eteocles, unable to rouse any enthusiasm in his support, had been like a single wolf fearful of the shepherds' vengeance: in book 10 he is a war-leader surrounded by an army of 'rabidi lupi'. See also 12.739-40. z The allusion to the women of Argos foreshadows their actions in book 12 (see below, p. 308). On this scene, see the thoughtful paper of Kytzler, AU I 1.50-61, in which he discusses its literary antecedents, structure and perceptive psychological insight. On the Homeric background, cf. also Juhnke, Homerisches, 143-4. 3 On the relationship between Ovid and Statius, cf., e.g., Helm, De Stat. Thehaide, 61 ff. and Rivoiro, CN r.1-22. See too Statius' treatment of Somnus in Silvae 5.4, with the comments of Traglia, Latinitas 12.7-12. (Cf. also now, Williams, Thehaid X, xv-xvi, 4 See above, pp. 165-8, 87-9. 44-5.) 1

THE

NOCTURNAL

RAID

araus ; 1 the second is dominated by the priest who had been appointed his successor. Sleep has a symbolic meaning in the tenth book. It is well-known that sleep is akin to death, the 'mortis imago' .2 Statius makes this point in his manneristic description of the god's halls (it is a point that does not occur in the Metamorphoses): 'interius tecti in penetralibus altis / et cum Morte iacet, nullique ea tristis imago / cernitur' (104-6).3 Sleep is also the great deceiver, the origin of dreams, his power strongest in the dark hours of night ;4 absunt innumero circum vaga Somnia vultu, vera simul falsis permixtaque < ... > Noctis opaca cohors, trabibusque aut postibus haerent, aut tellure iacent. tenuis, qua circuit aulam, invalidusque nitor, primosque hortantia somnos languida succiduis exspirant lumina flammis. (112-17) As in Ovid, the abode of Somnus is 'the very epitome of quiet and repose, a place where no light or noise or disturbance of any kind can enter',5 but Statius has added a sinister and threatening aspect to his description. On the one hand, sleep represents rest and tranquillity; on the other, death and deception. Like Ovid, Statius has 'mythologised' Sleep, 6 and his ecphrasis has an unreal quality, which sharply contrasts with the horrors that have preceded and will succeed the episode. The fantasy provides a necessary break in tension between the first day of battle, and what is shortly to occur: the raid, the death of Capaneus and the duel between the brothers. For both armies, the sleep of death has attained a frightening proximity. The slumber which Somnus casts over the Theban camp (146 ff.) is unnatural and portentous. While the Thebans are incapacitated in this way, the Argives remain awake and alert in their anxiety (156 ff.). Unpredictably, the seer See above, pp. 265-8. Cf. Ovid, Amores 2.9.41; for Sleep as the brother of Death, cf. Homer, Iliad 14.23 r; Virgil, Aeneid 6.278 and the lines of Seneca in his fine invocation of Sleep in the Here. Fur. (which Statius certainly knew): 'frater durae languide Mortis/ ... pavidum Leti genus humanum / cogis longam discere noctem' (1069, 1075-6). 3 The text at this point is badly disturbed, and lines 100-5 are omitted by most MSS. Their authenticity, however, is scarcely to be impugned: cf. Williams, Thehaid X, 46-7. 4 The lacuna in line 113 is filled'in the MSS by the nonsensical 'flumina flammis' ( obelised by Garrod, Williams), which is clearly based on 117 'lumina flammis'. Editors have suggested 'tristia blandis', which provides reasonable sense, but possesses no intrinsic conviction: cf. Williams, Thehaid X, 48. s Otis, Ovid, 247. 6 Cf. Otis, Ovid, 251. On the scene, see also Tillyard, English Epic, 102-3. 1

2

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

Thiodamas is seized by 'nudus furor' (166-7), and he bursts into the sad and futile council over which Adrastus is presiding with a bold and desperate plan (176 ff.). 1 Thiodamas urges an attack on the Theban troops which encircle the camp; he claims that Amphiaraus had appeared to him in a vision, advising prompt action (188 ff.; 202 ff.). At his words, a new tide of frenzy sweeps through the warriors, 2 and all are inflamed with a desire to take part in the sortie. Even Adrastus is raised to an unwanted pitch of enthusiasm as he gives his sanction to the enterprise (219 ff.; 236 ff.). A select band of men, under the command of Thiodamas, Agylleus and Actor (249-50) stealthily leaves the camp for their bloody and treacherous work. 3 There follows what is undoubtedly the most horrific and nauseating account of slaughter in the Thebaid.4 The Thebans are unable to make any resistance to their merciless foes: they are ruthlessly massacred where they lie, stupefied by supernatural sleep.5 Before the visitation of Somnus, the Thebans had been celebrating their triumphs of the previous day, and it is in the midst of the incongruous appurtenances of revelry that they are butchered· (304 ff.). This situation was prefigured by Hypsipyle's account of the murder of the Lemnian men in book 5,6 for they too were taken unawares after a joyous celebration. Elsewhere in the war-books, men at least die in open battle; Thiodamas and his associates act in an unheroic and despicable fashion. They have become dehumanised, creatures of darkness, absorbed and degraded by the evil miasma of Thebes. It is a sad irony that the leader and inspirer of this treachery(' fraudem et operta ... proelia ', 241-2) should The Argive council, now lacking several of its most powerful leaders, is compared to a ship which has lostits helmsman ( 182 ff.). This simile was briefly anticipated at 10. 13-14, and responds with the comparison at 7.139 ff., where the Argives leaving Nemea were likened to a fleet leaving harbour on favourable winds. They have now been utterly ruined. 2 This corresponds with the outbreak of war-fever at 7.131 ff. (see above, p. 89). 3 Capaneus refuses to take part in the raid: 'ipse haud dignatus in hostem / ire dolo superosque sequi' (258--9). This is the only occasion in the Thehaid when Adrastus shows any enthusiasm for bloodshed: and it is in pursuit of fraus and dolus: 'sed fraudem et operta paramus / proelia celandi motus: nunquam apta latenti / turba dolo' (241-2). It is apparent that Adrastus' rather discreditable action here is in some sense parallel to the decision ofEteocles to ambush Tydeus in book 2, which was also afraus 2.482,3.238) and a do/us (2.498, 516; 3.341, 358). By approving a treacherous nocturnal assault, Adrastus shows that not even he is entirely untainted by the evil spirit of Thebes. His final defeat in 11 may, therefore, be not entirely unjustified. 4 Cf. Snijder, Thehaid III, 12; Williams, Thehaid X, xx-xxi, 66. s As usual in Statius, the mythological apparatus which introduces the Theban stupor does not preclude a naturalistic explanation for it; the Thebans have been engaged in a drunken revel and so their deep and careless sleep is not illogical. 0 See above, p. 182. 1

306

THE

NOCTURNAL

RAID

be Thiodamas, who in book 8 had uttered a noble prayer to earth, 1 and that he should dedicate the bloodstained corpses to Apollo, god of light and truth (337 ff.). Against this grim background, Statius inserts the noble story of Hopleus and Dymas (347 ff.), who, as embodiments of pietas, reveal that, even when evil seems everywhere dominant, there are some who hold fast to virtue and selflessness. 2 Book 10 shows mankind at its nadir and at its zenith. In the first half, the savagery of Thiodamas' raid is balanced by the heroism of Hopleus and Dymas; in the second, Menoeceus points the road to heaven, while Capaneus takes his path to hell. In creating these incidents, Statius combined a number of models. Homer, Virgil and Ovid all contributed elements to the total structure. 3 The various strands gathered from the epic tradition are combined and unified into a swift-moving narrative, with startling changes of tone and emphasis, as the history of the war approaches its tempestuous climax. Theseus and the end of strife In books 7 to 11, the warmongers have their way, and every attempt to restrain their madness is a total failure. Book 1 I closes with the Argives in panic-stricken flight; Eteocles and Polynices are dead; Oedipus has been driven into exile and the tyrant Creon is master of Thebes. Some critics of the Thebaid have argued that Statius should have ended his epic at this point. H. E. Butler was particularly astringent in his condemnation of the twelfth book. 4 A more sympathetic view has been espoused by C. S. Lewis, who wrote: 'The climax of the whole poem is the coming of Theseus, and the consequent cutting away of all the tangled foulness of Thebes. This is told rapidly, as it ought to be ... because it is essential that we should have the impression, not of new wars following upon the old, but of awaking from nightmare, of sudden quiet after storm, of a single sword-stroke 1 J

4

2 See above, pp. 116-17. See above, pp. 266-8. Statius has utilised material from the Homeric Doloneia in Iliad 10 (cf. Juhnke, Homerisches, 144--7), as well as passages from Aeneid 9.159 ff. (cf. Legras, Et., 113-15). The movement in the first half of book 10 may he summarised in this way: The Thebans invest the Argive camp: Homeric/Virgilian The intervention of Somnus: Ovidian The nocturnal massacre: Homeric The pietas of Hopleus and Dymas: Virgilian Statius has created a composite unity of his principal models, which gives a startling and memorable variety of tone and atmosphere. Butler, Post-Augustan Poetry, 210.

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

ending for ever the abominations.' 1 Theseus is the great peace-maker, who because he is both just and merciful is alone able to draw a close to the dark tale of human sin, passion and madness. The final section of the twelfth book deals with the same events as Euripides' Supplices. There is, however, scant resemblance between the tragedy and the epic. The whole concept of the final stages of the war is different in Statius and Euripides. Statius makes no attempt to describe the funeral of the Argives; he does not refer to the Epigoni. His principal interest lies in the contrast between Creon and Theseus, between despot and just king. 2 The 'Ara Clementiae', so essential to the denouement of the epic, is not mentioned by Euripides. 3 Adrastus, prominent in the Supplices, does not appear at all in book 12 of the Thehaid. Statius does not mention Aethra, the mother of Theseus, who, in Euripides, persuades her son to aid the suppliant women. 4 In Statius, Theseus has no hesitation in acting on their behalf; in Euripides, he makes his decision to march against Thebes only after the arrival of Creon's arrogant messenger (Suppl. 399 ff.). No allusion at all is made to this in the Thehaid, for every effort is directed towards glorifying the Athenian king. The suicide of Evadne is referred to by Statius only in indirect terms (800-2); in the Supplices it is given great importance (990 ff.). There is no place in the epic for Evadne's father !phis who, in the drama, seeks to alter his daughter's resolve (1034 ff.). Statius' version of the engagement between the Thebans and the Athenians bears almost no relation to that of the tragedian (Theh. 12.715 ff.; Suppl. 673 ff.). There are other divergences, and it may be said that it would hardly be necessary to term the Supplices a source of the Thehaid, were it not for a few parallels in thought and language.5 At 12.464 ff., after describing the pious actions of Argia and Antigone outside Thebes, 6 Statius changes the venue to Athens where the suppliant wives of the dead Argives, with Juno at their head, have made their sorrowful way. Athens is ruled by Theseus, and, as Tillyard Lewis, Allegory of Love, 55. Cf. Scherrer, Untersuchungen, 77-8, 118-21, who rightly notes the apparent parallel or precedent in book 24 of the Iliad, which has been felt by some - but not all- critics to be otiose (on which, see Kirk, Songs of Homer, 320-1 and Beye, Iliad, Odyssey and Epic Trad., 155-7). Cf. also, Venini, RIL 95.61-4. 2 See also above, pp. 130-1. 3 The altar is mentioned by Apollodorus, 3.79. Cf., on the Altar at Athens, Waser, RE 5. coll. 2320-1; Weinstock, Divus Julius, 242. 4 On Adrastus' role in the Supplices, cf. Zuntz, Political Plays, 14 ff. s Cf. Reussner, De Statio et Euripide, 32 ff.; Fiehn, f2!:!aest.Stat., 66 ff. For parallels, compare Theh. 12.548-9 and Suppl. 264; 12.596-9 and 383 ff.; 12.642 ff. and 347 ff. 6 See above, pp. 131-3. 1

THESEUS

AND

THE

END

OF

STRIFE

has written, both city and monarch are 'symbolical': 'Athens of civilisation, Theseus of the governor who upholds the laws of nature and of nations' . 1 The Athenians, when they see the pathetic throng of mourners, are stirred to compassion (466-7). 2 Statius then gives his justly famous account of the Altar of Mercy, which stands, emblematically, at the centre of the city(' urbe ... media', 481). The lines are of great beauty as well as of profound moral significance. The word clementia, in its moral sense, occurs in the Thehaid only once before book 12, at the moment when Oedipus, at last ashamed of the havoc his curse has created, asks himself 'tarda meam, pietas, longo post tempore mentem / percutis? estne sub hoe hominis dementia corde?' (u.605-6). 3 At thatmomenthe sees, for the first time, a fleeting vision of what he has lost. But only in book 12, at Athens, the home of Clementi.a, is it revealed at last that evil does not rule the universe and that sinful man can be redeemed. This redemption must come from within himself. The great Altar is not dedicated to any of the dei potentes (481-2); Clementia never lacks suppliants, and heeds all prayers: mitis posuit Clementia sedem, et miseri fecere sacram; sine supplice nunquam illa nova, nulla damnavit vota repulsa: auditi quicumque rogant, noctesque diesque ire datum et solis numen placare querellis. (482-6) Those who approach the shrine of mitis Clementia need bring nothing but their wretchedness and pain. They will find no statue of the goddess, for she has her habitation in the hearts and minds of men: parca superstitio: non turea flamma, nee altus accipitur sanguis: lacrimis altaria sudant, maestarumque super libamina secta comarum pendent et vestes mutata sorte relictae. mite nemus circa, cultuque insigne verendo vittatae laurus et supplicis arbor olivae. nulla autem effigies, nulli commissa metallo forma dei, mentes habitare et pectora gaudet. (487-94) 1 2

J

Tillyard, English Epic, 103. At this point Statius compares the suppliant women to nightingales: 'Geticae non plura queruntur / hospitibus tectis trunco sermone volucres, / cum duplices thalamos et iniquum Terea clamant' (478-80): the simile responds with that applied to Antigone and Ismene at 8.616-20 (just before they learn of the fate of Atys). At Thebes, however, however, grief brings no mercy in its train. See above, p. 280. For clementia as the characteristic virtue of Athens, cf. 12,175. (3. 527 is not relevant, as c!ementia is there used in a different sense.)

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

In these sublime lines Statius makes explicit what has been implicit in the whole of his epic: that man's only hope of salvation lies within himself. Clementia is not a goddess, but a symbol of the highest virtue that can iµspire humanity in a harsh and troubled world. At her Altar, all those in need, all those in grief, all those burdened by guilt may find a cure from their ills (495-6); there, mankind may find a sanctuary from passion and tyranny, and from the cruel caprice of fortune: it is 'commune animantibus aegris / confugium, uncle procul starent iraeque minaeque / regnaque, et a iustis Fortuna recederet aris' (503-5). 1 The gift of Clementia is open to all mankind; there is no human misery, crime or misfortune that cannot be granted solace and absolution at the Altar; even Oedipus himself will soon be the recipient of its redemptive and holy power. It is the place where all things are made new, where the works of darkness can have no place: 2 iam tune innumerae norant altaria gentes, hue vieti bellis patriaque a sede fugati regnorumque inopes seelerumque errore noeentes conveniunt paeemque rogant; mox hospita sedes vicit et Oedipodae Furias tet funus Olynthit texit et a misero matrem submovit Oreste. (506-II) The power of Clementia is universal; it transcends time and nationality, 1

2

Statius depicts Athens as a land blessed by the gods, both as the home of the Eleusinian cult (501-2) and as the seat of the Ara. In his reference to Eleusis - foreshadowed at the end of book I in the allusion to frugifer Osiris (see above, p. 136) - the use of the words 'hominem novum' ( 501) is particularly striking, when we recall the political associations of the term homo novus. Statius' 'new man' is surely to be seen not as Triptolemus - as Mozley (LCL II, 482 n. a) suggests - but as the renewed or transformed humankind that is produced by initiation ( on the idea of salvation at Eleusis, cf. James, Sacrifice and Sacrament, 179 ff.). For a philosophical reference to novi homines, cf. Seneca, NQ 3.30.7-8, where Seneca speaks, in accordance with the Stoic notion of recurrence, of the recreation of the world in its 'antiquus ordo'; the old, bestialised humanity, he says, will disappear(' peracto exitio generis humani extinctisque pariter feris, in quarum homines ingenia transierant') and a new breed of men will arise: 'dabitur ... terris homo inscius scelerum et melioribus auspiciis natus. sed aliis quoque innocentia non durabit, nisi dum novi sunt.' In the' cosmos' of the Thehaid, the intervention of Theseus may be seen as the moment of renewal, the commencement of a new cycle of history, just as was the divine revelation at Eleusis. (Though Statius refrains from mentioning the repetition of the war by the Epigoni, it could be interpreted as the inevitable decline that follows rebirth.) Christians would have found the words homo novus in such a context familiar and suggestive (cf. Ephes. 2.15, 4.24, etc. in the Vulgate). In line 5m Garrod obelises the words 'et funus Olynthi', as the allusion cannot be explained. Imhof emended to 'funusque Coloni', and Unger to 'et funus Onitae / tersit'. A scholiast glosses 'quod patrem suum occidit'. but this may well be mere guesswork. The possibility that Statius is referring to an otherwise unknown myth cannot be ruled out.

3IO

THESEUS

AND

THE

END

OF

STRIFE

whereas evil, by its nature, is temporary and limited. 1 To this Altar, the Argive widows take their path, and at once find comfort (512 ff.). 2 A. W. Verrall was right to see in Statius' noble definition of Clementia a spirit akin to that of Christianity, whose Founder said 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest' (Mt. 11.28). 3 In these lines, if anywhere, we can see why Dante saw in Statius a convert to the Christian faith.4 The immediate background to the poet's uplifting words, however, lay in the ethic of Senecan stoicism, and we recall that, in the middle ages, Seneca was also believed to have been sympathetic to or influenced by Christianity.5 The fullest exposition of the Senecan view of Mercy is to be found in the De clementia, which provides an essential basis for understanding the conclusion of the Tliehaid. Clementia, as Seneca makes clear, is the antithesis and antidote of ira ;6 from it springs happiness and peace.7 The practice of mercy is demanded by the brotherhood of all men, for it is the most human of virtues: 'nullam ex omnibus virtutibus magis homini convenire, cum sit nulla humanior.' 8 It is mercy that distinguishes a king from a tyrant; it is the glory and true salvation of monarchs. 9 Mercy must, however, be distinguished from pity, which is a fallible emotion. For mercy is inseparable from justice; the philoIn 496, Statius says that the Altar is unknown only

to thefelices: Tillyard, Englisli Epic, comments: 'The altar is thronged by the needy - ignotae tantum felicihus arae . .. The description is exquisite in itself, but once more there is the sudden turn: the switch over the shrine itself and its earnest votaries to the ignorance of the fortunate, from the descriptive to the psychological.' The poet is well aware thatf'elicitas is often short-lived, and that even those who for a time count themselves 'blessed' may one day be in need of Clementia's help. 2 At 515-18, Statius compares the suppliants, now calmed, to cranes: 'ceu patrio super a!ta grues Aquilone fugatae / cum videre Pharon; tune aethera latius implent, / tune hilari clangore sonant; iuvat orbe sereno / contempsisse nives et frigora solvere Nilo'; the simile has precedents in Homer, Iliad 3.3 ff., Virgil, Aeneid 10.264 ff. and Lucan, BC 5.711 ff., and it here responds in word and tone to 5.11-16, where the Argive warriors, relieved from thirst through Hypsipyle's aid, are also likened to cranes. The salvation of the Argives in 5 foreshadows the succour given to their wives in 12. 3 Verrall, Coll. Lit. Essays, 221 ff. 4 Cf. Lewis, in Med. and Ren. Studies, 99 and Mozley, P VS 3.21. On Statius' supposed Christianity, see also, Verrall, op. cit., 181 ff.; Albini, At. e. R. 5.561-7; Hardie, JRS 6.1-12; Scherillo, At. e. R. 5.497-506; Landi, Atti e Mem. della R. Accad. di Padova 29.231-66 and 37. 301-32; Bugnoli, Cultura Neolatina 29.117-25. s Even as early as the Fathers, Seneca was accepted as a forerunner of Christianity (cf. Tertullian, An. 20; Lactantius, Inst. Div. 4.24; Jerome, Vir. Ill. 12) and supposed letters from him to St Paul were in circulation: cf. Summers, Select Letters, xcviii-ix, Faider, Etudes sur Seneque, 83-104 and Trillitzsch, Seneca im literarisclien Urteil II 3 79-82. For the Renaissance attitude to him, cf. Battenhouse, Marlowe's ' Tamhurlaine', 25-6, 103 ff. 8 /hid. 1.3.2. 9 /hid. 1.11.4. 6 De clem. 1.5.4-6. 1 /hid. 1.5.4. r

102,

3II

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

sopher king will at all times seek to exercise impartial clementia, but his mercy will never be used to the detriment of justice: in the end, unrepentant, incorrigible sin will require punishment. 1 In Theseus, Statius portrays the model of a clement and just king, worthy to rule over the city which is the home of Clemencia. When the Argive women first see him, he is entering Athens in triumphal procession after his victory over the Amazons (519 ff.). 2 In the Thebaid, the Amazons, like the Scythians and Thracians, serve to represent societies governed by lawless and primitive violence; 3 with Theseus comes Hippolyte, their QEeen, who has now rejected the' severos ritus' of her homeland in favour of Athenian ways (535-9). Theseus, by conquering the Amazons, has acted as champion of order and civilisation: it is because he is the consistent defender of the moral law that he, and he alone, can draw to a close the history of sin and crime at Thebes. The Thebans and Argives, though not barbarians like the Amazons, 4 have accepted the degrading standards of barbarism. It is for Theseus to re-assert and vindicate the rule of law. It is Evadne, the widow of Capaneus, who speaks for the suppliants (545 ff.). It is appropriate that it should be the wife of the most impious of the Argives who now confronts the most pious of kings with a moving plea for aid against Creon's savagery. The Argive women., she says, do not complain because their husbands have perished: that is the hazard of war (5 50 ff.). But Theseus should espouse their cause, for the dead men were not beasts: they were human beings like himself: sed non Siculis exorta sub antris monstra nee Ossaei hello cecidere bimembres. mitto genus clarosque patres: hominum, inclyte Theseu, sanguis erant, homines, eademque in sidera, eosdem sortitus animarum alimentaque vestra creati (553-7)

Evadne is fundamentally right, although she does not see that the dead princes - and not least her own husband - had during the war become bestialised, more like Cyclopes and Centaurs than civilised men.5 Her argument recalls the Stoic doctrine of human brotherhood, on which, as 1

Ibid. 2.5-8. Statius, in his laudation of clementia, was, like Seneca, also thinking of the well-established cult of the Imperial Clementia (on which, cf. Ryberg, in The Classical Tradition (ed. Wallach), 235 ff.; Rogers, Stud. in the Reign of Tib., 35-9; Weinstock, Di,yus Julius, 233 ff.). On Domitian's clementia, cf. Si!Yae 3-3-167 ff.; 3-4-73. 2 Theseus is, in this passage, depicted as a Roman triumphator. 3 Cf., e.g., 4.394, 5.144. 4 Hippolyte is described as barbara in 538. s See above, pp. 97,135,157,199, 216-17, 221,224, 233 1 286 1 295n,

312

THESEUS

AND

THE

END

OF

STRIFE

we have remarked, Seneca founded his theory of clementia: it is a claim which Theseus, the embodiment of mercy and justice, cannot reject. As Evadne points out, Creon's orders offend Nature and divine law and cry out for vengeance (561 ff.); she sees that the time has come for an end of hatred and passion: 'bellavimus esto; / sed cecidere odia et tristes mors obruit iras' ( 573-4). Theseus has many times in the past revealed himself as a champion of right, and Evadne begs him to undertake this one deed, which is demanded equally by the laws of earth, heaven and the underworld (' da terris unum caeloque Ereboque laborem ', 580). In her last few words, Evadne demonstrates that Theseus is a second Hercules, a true replica of the greatest vindicator of good in the world: 'nee sacer invideat paribus Tirynthius actis' (584). Earlier in the epic we have seen several leaders who, through crime and folly, fell short of Hercules; now at last we find a king who is his equal. Like Hercules, Theseus is a 'terrarum pacator', who has rid the world of monsters. 1 At 665 ff. we are told that the shield which Theseus bears on the march to Thebes is decorated with representations of Crete and of his killing of the Minotaur. The device is symbolic. In Crete, we see a parallel to Thebes, in the Minotaur an image of the unnatural violence which Theseus is about to bring to an end. Just as he had once liberated Athens from the impious demands of the Cretan tyrant, so now Theseus will free Thebes from Creon. It is noteworthy that there are verbal similarities between these lines and the description of Mithras with which Adrastus' hymn, at the close of book 1, ended: seque ipsum monstrosi ambagibus antri hispida torquentem luctantis colla iuvenci, alternasque manus circum et nodosa ligantem bracchia et abducto vitantem cornua vultu. (12.668-71) seu Persei sub rupibus antri indignata sequi torquentem cornua Mithram.

(1.719-20)

In tauroctonous Mithras, we see a 'figure' of Minotauroctonous Theseus, in Adrastus' allusion to the saviour-god, a foreshadowing of the saviour-hero. 2 Like Mithras' slaying of the bull, the destruction of monsters by Hercules and Theseus symbolises the defeat of evil and disorder. 3 1 2

J

Cf. Seneca, De henef. 1.13.3 (on Hercules). See above, pp. 135-6. For Stoic allegorisation of Hercules' labours, cf. Zeller, Stoics, 368; Decharme, Traditions religieuses, 333-4. For Mithras equated with Hercules, cf. Vermaseren, Mithras, 79-80.

31 3

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

Evadne's suasoria is successful. Theseus is at once moved to just anger ('iusta mox concitus ira', 589), and he hastens to pledge his assistance to the dead and to the oppressed. But first he sends a messenger, Phegeus, to plead with Crean (596 ff.). 1 Theseus knows that clementia requires him to accede to the widows' cry for succour; he knows too that justice demands that Crean pay the penalty for sin. Even to the tyrant, however, Theseus first offers an opportunity for repentance and a change of heart. Only when that offer is callously rejected does the destruction of Crean become inevitable (681 ff.). Theseus is not only clement; he is also terrible in his devotion to justice. In his reply to Evadne, Theseus shows that he is aware that it is Juror which has prompted Crean to wickedness and that the Theban king is controlled by an Erinys (590, 593). To eliminate this madness, Theseus is willing to wage war. He gathers his troops from all over Attica (6u ff.),2 and addresses them briefly on the cause for which they must be ready to fight. It is not for power or personal glory but in defence of the universal laws of god and man: terrarum leges et mundi foedera mecum defensura cohors, dignas insumite mentes coeptibus: hac omnem divumque hominumque favorem Naturamque ducem coetusque silentis Avemi stare palam est; illic Poenarum exercita Thebis agmina et anguicomae ducunt vexilla Sorores. ite alacres tantaeque, precor, confidite causae. (642-8)

The lines possess a solemn and stately grandeur, and in them we see in stark contrast two forces that can never be reconciled. Theseus and the Athenians take up the sword to assert a moral order which governs the whole cosmos; Crean and the Thebans are inflamed by disruptive powers that are inimical to nature and morality. In the conflict between the Thebans and the Argives, both sides had been dominated by the Furies and disaster was inevitable. The Athenians will serve a greater cause and may be confident of victory. At this moment Statius compares Theseus, King of Athens, with Jupiter, King of the Gods (650-5). The simile reveals that Theseus, in his impartial devotion to justice 1 2

See above, pp. 130-1. Lines 6II-38 are a brief Catalogue, looking back to the Catalogue of the Argives in book 4. Theseus' expedition against Thebes is a recapitulation of that led by Adrastus but with a different object, inspiration and result.

THESEUS

AND

THE

END

OF

STRIFE

and to law, is an earthly reflection of the supreme god. 1 Similarly at 733 ff., Theseus, on the battlefield, is likened to Mars. He possesses godlike attributes because in him we see a perfect image of the 0eios av17p,2 the 'divine man' whose will and endeavour are directed solely towards the defence of righteousness. The war which Jupiter initiated in book 1 is concluded by the intervention of Theseus. Theseus is at one with Fate, Nature and the gods; it is through him that evil and madness are finally eradicated when he slays first Haemon (747 ff.) and then Crean ( 774 ff.), last representatives of the gens profana of Thebes. The last book of the Thebaid, in structure and content, follows a pattern related to the first. Creon's madness at its beginning recalls Oedipus' ira in book 1. The journey of the Argive women to Athens contrasts with and complements the journey of Polynices and Tydeus to Argos; in particular, just as Polynices in book 1 made his way to Argos through the night, so Argia in 12 travels to Thebes in the night (230 ff.). The final section of book 12 is dominated by Theseus, just as the first book closed with Adrastus as its central figure. The cult of Clementia in book 12 balances the worship of Apollo in 1. Theseus is, in some ways, a second and greater Adrastus; Athens is another and more perfect Argos. Adrastus allowed himself to become a partner in a corrupt and sinful war. Theseus is willing to fight, but only for a just and holy end. Compared with Theseus, Adrastus is a weak, helpless and inadequate monarch. His scrupulous piety to the gods was not enough, for he did not possess Theseus' dispassionate and noble virtue. Adrastus was mitis; he loved peace, and hated war. Theseus, by contrast, though inspired by mitis Clementia, is a stern warrior. Adrastus loved peace more than justice; his real fear was that his tranquillity would be shattered, and he lacked the moral grandeur of the king of Athens. Comfort and prosperity had made Adrastus flaccid and indecisive; through his own weakness, he was helplessly swept along 1

2

It will be remembered that Domitian also was commonly equated with Jupiter, not least in the Silvae (see above, p. 31, with note 5). In some senses iris difficult not to believe that Theseus in the Thebaid is intended to evoke the parallel both of V espasian, who restored peace and harmony at Rome after the chaos of 69, and of his son Domitian, who maintained that peace. Theseus' victory over the Amazons may, therefore, be seen as a reflection of Domitian's wars against the Germans and Dacians for which he received a double triumph in 89. There is, too, an obvious parallel between Athens, as portrayed in the Thebaid and Rome, whose mission in the world was summarised by Anchises in Aeneid 6.852-3 as 'pacisque imponere morem, / parcere subiectis et debellare superbos'. On the concept of the 6eios o:vrip in epic, cf. Otis, Virgil, 220 with n. 1, 330-1. Silius ends the Punica with the vision of Scipio Africanus as a 'divine man' (17.645-54), comparing him to Bacchus, Hercules and Qyirinus.

PEACEMAKERS

AND

WARMONGERS

the path to tragedy. Theseus is a man of steel, an instrument of divine justice and human clemency through whom the world is purified and improved. The Thebaid ends with the triumph of virtue over sin. There is no depth of human degradation and folly that is not explored in the first eleven books of the epic. To have concluded the tale with the death of the sons of Oedipus and the accession of Crean would have been to make the Thebaid a statement of despairing nihilism. In the twelfth book a grander vision of man and his destiny is revealed. It had been foreshadowed even in the blackest moments of the story by those who had clung to pietas in the midst of seemingly universal depravity. From the abyss of darkness, from the lowest depth of passion and sorrow springs up at last a message of light and of hope. The Thebaid is an epic not of sin but of redemption, a chronicle not of evil but of triumphant good.

APPENDIX

The Structure of the The/Jaid

Modern scholars have devoted considerable attention to the structural organisation of the Thebaid. The subject is fraught with difficulties. In analysing the structure of a work as long as an epic - as similar controversies relating to Virgil, Ovid, Lucan and Silius bear witness - it is easy to subordinate realities to subjective criteria and preconceptions. It has, for example, been suggested that one feature of the 'architecture' of the Thebaid was influenced by Virgil. The Aeneid, it is claimed, falls into two halves, which have been termed the 'Odyssean' and the 'Iliadic'; only in the seventh book does Aeneas finally reach Latium and the great war between Trojans and Latins begin.I It is asserted that the Thebaid is likewise divided into two portions, since the war begins only in book 7; the first six books narrate the preliminaries and bring the Argive host as far as Nemea: they reach Thebes only in the course of book 7.2 The argument is not compelling. There is no real break between books 6 and 7 of the Thebaid, and it is not until 7.424 ff. that the Argives finally arrive in Boeotia. Whatever the value of the scheme for the Aeneid, its validity for the Thebaid is dubious: the fact that books 7-12 of both epics are predominantly war-narratives is too superficial a parallel to be of great use. More important is the thesis of Kytzler, who has seen in the Thebaid an architectonic plan: he, like Ribbeck before him, believes that the twelve books fall into four triads, each of which has its own organic unity and special theme.3 This theory is, at first sight, attractive and it has not lacked supporters. The division of the Thebaid into triads has the apparent merit of symmetry and simplicity, while it leaves sufficient opportunity for a more complex arrangement within the basic form. Kytzler's triads may be epitomised as follows: (i) r-3: the books of preparation; (ii) 4-6: the books of delay (mora) at Nemea; (iii) 7-9; the books of war; (iv) ro-12: the climax and resolution, with the final victory of pietas over impietas. 4 To justify this view, Kytzler endeavoured to show that, whereas the transition between the books within each triad is smooth and continuous, there is a distinct break or 'caesura' between the third book in each group and the first of the next (i.e. 3/4, 6/7, 9/ro), accompanied by a 'shift in the 1 Cf. Otis, Virgil, 2 r 7-r 8; 3 r 3 ff. z See, e.g., Turolla, Orpheus 3.139; Venini, RIL 95.64. 3 Ribbeck, Gesch. der ram. Dicht. III, 224-5; Kytzler, Statius-Studien, 56 ff. 4 Kytzler, Statius-Studien, 71 ff., 170.

APPENDIX

action'. 1 As Schetter has seen, this claim - fundamental to Kytzler's analysis - is highly questionable. It is true that between the end of book 3 and the opening of book 4 we have to envisage a pause of two years (4.1-2) while the Argives prepare for their expedition against Thebes; Schetter, as well as Kytzler, though on different premisses, regards this as a point of demarcation in the structure. 2 This interpretation may be disputed. The interval of time indicated at 4.1-2 is without significance in terms of the history of the war and lies outside the scope of the epic: as far as Statius' narrative is concerned, the mustering of the army at Argos follows directly from Adrastus' decision at the end of book 3 to support Polynices by force of arms. When the aged king promises Argia that war will be launched against Thebes, he points out to her - not unnaturally - that some delay will be necessary to bring it about: 'tu solare virum, neu sint dispendia iustae / dura morae; magnos cunctamur, nata, paratus. / proficitur hello' (3.718-20). The opening of book 4 ('tertius horrentem zephyris laxaverat annum / Phoebus ') is a logical sequal to Adrastus' words. Furthermore, the principle of organisation used in the first three books - which rests, as will be shown below, on the symbolic alternation of events between Thebes and Argos - is continued into the fourth book with the Argive catalogue ( 1-344) and the account of panic and necromancy at Thebes (345-645). It is also apparent that the necromantic scene in 4 is intended to balance the augury at Argos in 3.3 The Nemean interlude (mora) begins only at 4.646, about two thirds of the way through the book. At the beginning of book 7, Jupiter, with the help of Mars, intervenes to hasten on the outbreak of hostilities. By this process he does to some degree give a new direction to the story. The incident is a 'doubling' of his parallel intervention in book 3.4 But it must be seen as an integral and necessary part of the N emean 'delay'; it is essential that some impetus should arise to drive the Argives from Nemea to Thebes, just as in book 3 divine activity was required to stir the Argives from passivity to war-fever. The final scene of book 6 is directly continued at 7.90 ff., when Panic interrupts the obsequies of Archemorus with the result that the army makes a precipitate depature. The end of the morae, in the world of men, is distinctly signalised at 7.139. 5 The subsequent section (145-226) is a dialogue between Bacchus and Jupiter, in which the former finally bows to the decrees of fate. 6 It was Bacchus who, in book 4, brought about the Nemean interlude; Jupiter, in 7, draws it to a close. 1

3 5 6

Kytzler, Statius-Studien, 67-8; cf. Frank, RIL 99.316-18. Frank's theory that, in addition to the triadic structure, there is, in the Thehaid (as has been traced in the Aeneid: cf. Duckworth, Structural Patterns, l ff.; Otis, Virgil, 217, 244, 392), a 'fundamental division into two halves, with a parallelism by means of similarities and contrasts between corresponding books' (ibid., 309-16) is entirely unconvincing: cf. Venini, 2 Schetter, Untersuchungen, 65-6, 78. Athenaeum 56.132-4. See above, p. 237. 4 See above, pp. 85-9r. See above, pp. 166-7: cf. Schetter, Untersuchungen, 70-1; Kytzler, Traditio 24.13. See above, pp. 89-91.

318

THE

STRUCTURE

OF

THE

THEBAID

Bacchus' acquiescence in the inevitable is the formal end to the morae in the celestial world. The Nemean interlude, therefore, extends from 4.646-7.226. The first and second triads are by no means clearly delineated. The enjambement at 9/10 is no more helpful to Kytzler's case. 1 At 10.70 ff., in response to the prayers of the women of Argos, Juno gives help and encouragement to the dispirited Argives by summoning the aid of Somnus. Her action responds with Jupiter's intervention in book 7, and it is also a complement to that of Bacchus at 4.646 ff. Bacchus delays the Argive army in the interests of Thebes; Juno interferes with the course of events in support of the Argives. 2 Her decision to do so arises directly out of the disastrous setbacks suffered by her proteges in books 7-9. The first forty-nine lines of book 10 follow on logically enough from the end of book 9, and serve as a bridge between the events of the second day of battle - the death of Tydeus, Hippomedon and Parthenopaeus - and the fighting in the night after it. The nocturnal raid, which springs from Juno's action, is led by Thiodamas, who was introduced to the story in book 8. The episode of Hopleus and Dymas looks back to books 8 and 9, for the youths are inspired to their act of heroism by a desire to retrieve the corpses of Tydeus and Parthenopaeus from Theban hands. In short, books 10 and 11 are just as much war-books as 7, 8 and 9. Juno's action is merely one incident of many in the continuous progress of the war narrative which, after telling of the elimination of Amphiaraus (7), Tydeus (8), Hippomedon, Parthenopaeus (9) and Capaneus (10), culminates in the duel between Eteocles and Polynices (u) and its aftermath - the Argive retreat, the tyrannical Juror of Crean (11-12). Kytzler's theory is, as Schetter has seen, unsatisfactory, for the 'caesurae' which he tries to find between the triads prove to be illusory. Each book in the Thebaid is linked with its successor. Although Statius endowed every book with a sufficient unity in itself, he was careful to preserve an organic progression throughout the whole epic. All the books conclude at a dramatic point, but the transitions are never abrupt or unexpected.3 Statius succeeded 1 2

3

Cf. Schetter, Untersuchungen, 74-6. There are the only occasions in the epic when lesser deities are allowed seriously to affect the path of destiny: but in both cases the results of their intervention are purely temporary. Cf. Schetter, Untersuchungen, 80 ff.; Venini, RIL 95.57. It is notable that books 1, 2, 4 and 5 all end with prayers. Books 7, 8, 9 and 10 all conclude with the elimin:ition of one of the Seven princes; books 2, 3, 4, 5, 10, 1r, 12 of the Aeneid similarly end in a death on the significance of this type of conclusion, cf. Marti, in Lucain (Fond. Hardt Entretiens 15) 15-16. Book 3 of the Thebaid closes with Adrastus' disastrous promise to Argia; 6 with the grim omen vouchsafed to the Argive king at the games; book 11 with the flight of the Argives. It is a·pparent that each of these conclusions is something of a climax - either ominously peaceful (1, 3, 5, 6, 11) or violent (3, 7, 8, 9, 10) - but each of them, however striking, anticipates what is to follow. They are subsidiary climaxes, similar to those ending scenes within the books. In the Thebaid, the imposed, external pattern of composition in books is subordinated to the poet's imaginative, internal drive to continuity.

APPENDIX

in combining the exigencies of composition in books with the need to preserve narrative continuity. The unity of the Thebaid does not lie in an external pattern or predetermined plan. It is to be found primarily in the complex inter-relationships and correspondences which bind individual episodes to each other and to the whole epic. Like the Metamorphoses of Ovid, the Thebaid is a 'carmen perpetuum', 'a blend of continuity and change', in which there is constant movement, delicate articulation and unbroken development. 1 As Brooks Otis has written, Ovid in the Metamorphoses 'smooths the passages from one book to another, one episode to the next, one motif to its successor', using 'a transitional or evolutive design that pulls the reader along as it were from one main point to another and through many subsidiary points as well'. 2 Statius adopted a similar process in the Thebaid, even though, unlike Ovid, he was narrating a single plot. His epic, full of variety and contrast, with frequent changes of tempo and mood, presses onward through a series of episodes towards its final denouement.3 The Thebaid, like the Metamorphoses, appears to be episodic, but it is nonetheless a harmonious and self-consistent whole. It is not founded, like the Aeneid, on a static, architectonic plan; it has a vibrant and dynamic tension. Each major part possesses its own selfsufficient value and unity, and all integrated into the stream of narrative by symbol, image and theme: but that stream is never dammed or obstructed in its flow. In the organisation of the Metamorphoses we can detect a manneristic reaction against Virgilian classicism, and Ovid's example was inherited and adapted by the mannerist Statius. Mannerism, as John Shearman has pointed out, has an innate tendency to favour variety over formal, static unity; it concentrates on the elaboration of parts or individual scenes rather than on the whole edifice.4 The mannerist has, therefore, to unify his work by an 'all-over interwoven consistency', which brings the variety of the elaborated parts into relation with the entire structure. This combination of unity with diversity, of continuity with change, was superbly achieved by Statius, but it is not rapidly apprehended, nor will it ever be adequately explained in terms of classical architectonics. If, then, we are to speak of the' architecture' of the Thebaid, it will be only in a broad and non-deterministic fashion. Schetter, in his perceptive discussion of the problem, has divided the epic into four main structural blocks, of unequal length, but each with its own theme: (i) books 1-3: the evolution of the war; (ii) 4.646-7.144: the Nemean mora; (iii) 7.628-11.761: the war; (iv) book 12: the resolution. Two shorter sections not accounted for in his analysis (4.1-645 and 7.145-627) are regarded as more or less extraneous to 1 2

3

Ovid, Metamorphoses 1.4; Otis, OYid, 89. Otis, OYid, 309. Cf. Schetter, Untersuchungen, 79, 84. A similar technique may be detected in Lucan's Bellum ciYile, which was also strongly influenced by the example of Ovid: cf. the remarks of Marti, in Lucain (Fond. Hardt 4 Shearman, Mannerism, 140-51. Entretiens 15) 3-4, 30-1. 320

THE

STRUCTURE

OF

THE

THEBAID

the main themes: though they are not mere padding, they serve only to bind and bridge the larger blocks.I It is here, as Schetter's critics have seen, that the greatest weakness of his theory lies. His error arose out of his attempt to use a chronological criterio'n to assess the structure of the poem. 2 The principle of temporal 'continuity and discontinuity' -which makes his acceptance of the two sub-sections unavoidable - is exposed, no less than Kytzler's triadic theory, as an inadequate guide by the scheme which results from it. The fact is that neither of the sub-sections need be regarded as separate from the dominating themes of the epic unless we subscribe to Schetter's premisses. As will be demonstrated, 4.1-645 (the mustering of the Argives, alarm and necromancy at Thebes) should be viewed as a continuation of the first three books. Nor is 7.145-276 any less easily assigned to a larger unit. The dialogue between Jupiter and Bacchus (145-226) is the true conclusion of the Nemean interlude. At 227 the scene shifts to Thebes. After a brief introduction (227-42), Statius presents the Te1xo01