Thursday, August 14, 2008

Book V: The Wake

For many readers, Book Five may be the dullest book of the Aeneid, but like all the others it serves a distinct purpose, even if that service halts the action of the poem. The funeral games to celebrate the anniversary of Anchises' death fulfill a tradition of epic poetry begun by Homer. They also lend occasion to the poet to remind the Roman aristocracy (to whom much of this poem is directed) of some of their supposed ancestry. They further shed a dignified light upon Roman customs which until te Augustan Age had rather dim origins.

It is worth noting the irony that leaving the light of Dido's pyre, we nearly immediately arrive at funeral games for Anchises. Though hardly subtle, there is much to consider there.

I called this book "The Wake" to play on two senses of the word; meaning 1) a ritual to celebrate the passing of the deceased, but also 2) the track of a moving body through a fluid. The first sense I described in the previous pararaph, but in the second sense, there has to be some calming after the tumult of the Dido tragedy in Book Four. Some critics lay a heavy hand upon Books Three and Five (as I myself sometimes do), but these books do serve their respective purposes quite well.

Besides, what could possibly be an appropriate encore to the terrible destruction of Troy or to the magnificent demise of Dido?

Book IV: The Dido Episode

Following the lullaby of the third book, where the narrative took a predictable turn and the depth of the content demonstrates more erudition than artistry, the fourth book exemplifies the Vergilian ability to turn a somewhat unknown side story into something magnificent.

The Dido Episode stands as a tragic play within the whole of Vergil's epic poem, an epic ecphrasis of sorts. The tragedy of Dido is the most striking example (though the others rarely disappoint) of the dramas played out in the Aeneid. I have always been fairly critical of Book Three, but it should be noted that both it and Two serve to delineate Aeneas' character and to outline the forces (the gods, Fate) that will operate in the Dido tragedy.

What is at issue here in the smallest sense is love between a man and woman, but increasing the scope a bit it is Rome vs. Carthage, or broader, Roman stoicism vs. Epicurean self-indulgence, or broader still, Destiny vs. Desire, or in the broadest sense, piety vs. love. Imagine an isosceles triangle, with the narrow corner at the top and these pittings listed downward in the order given above.

Returning to the specific situation, it is Aeneas' piety (which is seemingly endless) vs. Dido's love (which is literally maddening); the former is so complete as to make Aeneas almost lifeless, and the latter so frenetic as to produce Dido's suicide.

Needless to say, these issues demand our fullest attention when interpreting the whole of the Aeneid. The characters speak more than they act in Book Four, and the thing said assumes the greater importance. Famous lines abound in Book Four and arise not from the characters themselves but more from the situation. Any person in love might have said what they say. They leave more unsaid than they say.

I am excited for you to experience this episode, but more so for what it might teach you about yourself. There are high, grand battles that human beings fight in literature, and the lessons of such characters we can make our own. This is one opportunity for such imagination and examination.

I hope you are up for the fight when you have to choose between destiny/piety and love, but I will settle for hearing your thoughts on both sides upon reading the Latin.