Gregory Hutchinson (ed.), Propertius Elegies Book IV, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, coll. "Cambridge Greek
and Latin Classics", 2006, 258p.
Isbn (ean13) Paperback: 978-0-521-52561-9.
Isbn (ean13) Hardback: 9780521819572
Recension par Frédéric Nau (Professeur en Classes Préparatoires au Lycée Camille Guérin de Poitiers) dans Bryn Mawr Classical Review: 2008.09.67
Présentation de l'éditeur:
Propertius' fourth book is his most challenging and innovative. Itdisrupts genre; dislocates time and order; and meditates on gender,perception and history. A sort of postmodernism combines with narrativeand structural verve, incisively physical writing and a gallery ofcolourful characters. This edition makes a demanding and rewarding textmore accessible and more intelligible. The text is new; help and freshideas are offered on the text and meaning of words. A wide range ofliterary, inscriptional and archaeological material is used toilluminate this many-sided poetry. Much more space is given than inprevious editions to literary interpretation and historicalcontextualization, in the light of modern work. The book is approachedas a dynamic sequence of poems rather than a collection. The editionshould be valuable to both students and scholars.
• Presents anextended and detailed new interpretation of the book • Provides a newLatin text • Makes great use of non-literary evidence and of Greekliterature, including newly-published papyri
Sommaire:
Preface page viii List of abbreviations ix Introduction 1 1 Book 4 and discontinuity 1 2 Contemporary context 2 3 Propertian and elegiac context 7 4 The shape of book 4 16 5 Text 22 SEX. PROPERTI LIBER QVARTVS 25 Commentary 59 Bibliography 250 Indexes 253 1 Latin words 253 2 General
INTRODUCTION
1. BOOK 4 AND DISCONTINUITY
Propertius' fourth book is a spectacular, andbewildering, creation, unlike anything else in Augustan poetry. Thereader encounters a dazzling series of poems sensationally diverse insubject and speakers; the diversity is obviously meaningful rather thanrandom. What underlies the book, paradoxically, and most generates itsimpact and its questioning, is discontinuity (and continuity). Theintroduction will pursue this subject through various interlockingareas, and in doing so will supply context and essential information.1
Though the analysis would still obtain withoutattention to the abstract idea, continuity was a vital concern ofancient philosophy and literary theory; it had bearing both on genreand on Roman history. Time and our experience of it was thought to beor seem continuous. Roman history was considered an unbroken series ofevents from Aeneas to the present and will have appeared so in Ennius'and Livy's realizations, however each work varied in internal narrativepace. In general terms, oneness and continuity were thought to gotogether (i.e. discontinuity excluded oneness), even if continuityimplied a division of one thing into parts. The more elevated literarygenres offered, as a basis of their unity, a ‘continuous and single'action (Arist. Poet. 1452a14–15, of tragedy), a perpetuum argumentum, like Iliad or Annales (Varro Men.fr. 396 Cèbe). Narrative sequence in these genres thus mirrors theirrepresentation of continuous time. (Narrative ellipses, analepses etc.complicate the picture.) The master elegist Callimachus claims to befaulted for not writing a work which was one and continuous (ἓν ἄειcμαδιηνεκέc, Aet. fr. 1.3 Massimilla). Horace implicitly contrasts himself with those who write unum opus . . . carmine perpetuo in praise of the city of Athens (C. 1.7.5–7).2
P.'s approach to his book and to Roman history ismultiply and abundantly discontinuous; discontinuity in chronology andin reading sequence are intimately connected. Critics rightly seekconnections between the poems and blurrings between the types of poems;as will be seen, these are numerous and crucial. But this impulseshould not make us underplay the disconcerting and forcefullyconflicting elements in the book. If we represent continuity loosely bythe one-way series of seamlessly joining entities abcde . . . , then some of the types of discontinuity in book 4 may be represented as (i) az (ii) ca (iii) aδ.In (i), the beginning and end of a chronological series (the history ofRome) are confronted and so maximize the gap and the disparity: cf.e.g. the conjunction of 4.4 and 4.5, or the depiction of Rome'sbeginnings 4.1.1–38. One may contrast the aim of ancient philosophy andmodern mathematics to achieve continuity by eliminating or minimizing agap. In book 4 the maximum gap can be combined (as in the sequences4.3–4.4 or 4.8–4.9) with (ii), a movement against the arrow of time.(ii) occurs most dramatically in the sequence 4.7–4.8, from Cynthiadead to Cynthia living (see introduction to 4.8). It can be combined(as in 4.5–4.6) with (iii). In (iii) material of a startlinglydifferent nature appears in a successive poem, or even within a poem(as in the sequence 4.8.1–26). It is this type of discontinuity, foundall over the book, which most directly transgresses P.'s generic norms:for the world of books 1 and 2 is largely homogeneous, whereasnarrative sequence between poems arises infrequently in love-elegy'suniverse of incessant but reversible change. The jump from 4.2 to 4.3is an early example of (iii). One may indeed see in book 4 a roughunderlying pattern of aetiological poems alternating withnon-aetiological poems, first singly then in pairs (4.7–8, 9–10); butthe conflict within 4.1 prevents us from seeing this as straightforwardor unproblematic. And the crossings (4.4 ancient love, 4.6 modernaetiology etc.) increase unexpectedness without diminishingdiscontinuity. Book 4 is pervaded by an aesthetic of meaningfulsurprise.3
2. CONTEMPORARY CONTEXT
The book will not have appeared before 16 BC.In that year (4.6.77–8n.) the Sugambri, a German tribe, defeated M.Lollius (probable allusion 4.1.95–6); they were forced, however, tosign a treaty by Augustus' arrival in 16. It is to this submission that4.6.77 memoret seruire Sugambros is most aptly referred, rather than to their later crushing by Drusus (cf. Epiced. Drus. 17–18, 311) and then Tiberius. The submission is also spoken of in Horace's Odes4 (14.51–2), perhaps published in early 13. The death of Cornelia isless enlightening. 4.11.65–6, which date her death to her brother'sconsulship, are probably spurious; the consulship is 18 BC,or less probably 16. If the synchronism of death and consulship shouldbe correct, the earlier the poem marking her death is published thebetter.
Book 4 mostly confronts stories from the time ofRomulus or before with stories or implied stories from the present day.The initial effect, modified by many twists and complications, is tocreate a chasm between past and present. This approach, though oftenfound in Latin literature, is very different from the approach ofAugustus. Augustus, though or because responsible for the largestchange in Roman history, presented a studied image of innovation withintradition, which he continues and renews: so in the elaborate balancesof Aug. RG 8.5 legibus noui[s] m[e auctore l]atis, m[ulta e]xempla maiorum exolescentia iam ex nostro [saecul]o red[uxi et ipse] multarum rer[um exe]mpla imitanda pos[teris tradidi]. Much that we call Augustan was to be seen as Roman.
Many of his actions bring out the joining of newand old. He restores old temples in great number, and builds new ones.(Cf. Aug. RG 19–21.1, App. 2–3; P. 4.6, 4.10.) He associateshimself with Romulus, and so shows both involvement with tradition anda new start. Recent events show a particular concern with thesequestions. Augustus ends his prodigious run of consulships in mid-23 BC;his power, as he continues to make clear, must find expression in formsthat are less obtrusive, and seem traditional. His social legislation (c. 18 BC;cf. P. 4.11) is innovative in its interference; but it aims atreinforcing traditional morals and hierarchies. So does his purging ofthe Senate (18 BC). The Ludi Saeculares of 17 BC mark a ‘new age'; but the age is one in a series. The ceremony is to seem traditional. (Cf. the series of Ludi Saeculares marked in Ⅱ XIII 1.62–3 (with 20), and the emphasis on precedent in ILS 5050.111.) The hope is that the Roman people and its old values will continue (cf. Hor. Saec.57–9). Perhaps connected with the games, at least in impact, isAugustus' adoption of his grandsons in 17 (cf. P. 4.6.82): the noveltyof an implicitly monarchical line will carry on Augustus' revival ofwhat is truly Roman.4
Particularly expressive are the lists of Roman triumphs and, in smaller letters, consuls which were probably placed in 19 BC on a triple arch in the Forum celebrating Augustus' Parthian success (20 BC).These graphically exhibit the continuous sequence to which Augustusbelongs – even though triumphs are to become the monopoly of the princeps' family. The later Forum Augustum will contain many statues of Republican great men, often in triumphal clothing (Ⅱ XIII3.1–41). The much-celebrated Parthian success itself (P. 4.6.79–80)shows Augustus rectifying the acts of earlier politicians-cum-generalsthrough the return of in particular the standards lost to the Parthiansby Crassus in 53 BC. He spends much of his time,despite the difficulties, in the traditional sphere of great Romans:military and organizational activity in the provinces. His return in 19BC (cf. P. 4.3.70–2) is celebrated in a new altar to Fortune and new feriae,the Augustalia (other honours are declined). The Parthians' surrenderof the standards, though not actually the fruit of military victory, ismade to sustain Augustus' own coherent career from the forties on, asis brought out by the temple of Mars Ultor decreed in 20 BC (Dio 54.8.3, cf. RIC I2 Aug. 28, 39, 68–74, 103–6, 507, all c. 19 or c. 19–18 BC).One side-question for the reader of book 4 is how far this consistentcareer, growing in greatness (4.6.24, 37–44), is like or unlike that ofthe book's poet-narrator.5
The idea of the continuous line of great Romansappears in P. 4.11, from a female and familial perspective; 4.10 and4.11 bridge the historical gap between Romulus and the present. But formost of its course book 4 dwells on radical oppositions; these aredriven home by various explicit passages, including the opening and4.4.9–14. But form is especially significant. Varro's De vita populi Romani,though a primary source for such oppositions of time in Augustanliterature, in its own structure portrayed the gradual development ofRome. So did Livy's vast embodiment of Roman history, still beingwritten. P. draws on Livy and his sources; but the portion of Livy fromwhich he draws for his narratives is both minute and unified – sincethe story of Cacus (P. 4.9) in Livy appears inset within his account ofRomulus (1.7.3–15 within 1.4–16). Tibullus 2.5 and Aeneid 8 areother important embodiments of the contrasts. Yet Propertius 4 does notreflect the diachronic depiction of Roman history at the end of Aeneid8 which draws the different times of that book together, and joinsAugustus to outstanding men of the late Republic, Cicero and Cato(667–70). From that depiction of history one event, Actium, appears inisolation (4.6). Tibullus 2.5 is a single poem, integrated into itscollection at beginning and end (lines 1–18, 83 –122, cf. 2.1, 2.2,2.3.11–28). Propertius 4, in its drastic confrontations of differenttimes through successive poems (2–5, 8–9), has a uniquely potent formfor expressing these oppositions.6
Augustus, when he appears in 4.6, displayscontinuity with his ancestors, and is essential to the continuity ofRome (37–46). He is, in conjoining phrase, the Longa mundi seruator ab Alba: Rome's scope is now the whole world (cf. 19, 39). In 4.11.60 he appears as deo:an innovation shared with Julius Caesar (4.6.59–60), but also a linkwith Hercules and Romulus (4.6.21, 9.13?, 32, 10.11). Even apart fromthe move towards continuity in its last two poems, the book'sdiscontinuous approach to Roman history is not personally enoughdirected to appear antagonistic towards Augustus. (Ovid's disjunctionof the denigrated Romulus from the great Augustus (F. 2.133–44)admits an antagonistic reading.) The book maintains a decorous surfaceof praise for the ruler. It thus invites questions from the reader onthe poet's own continuity. He has proceeded from the depiction in book1 of his family's suffering at the hands of Octavian (not yet Augustus)to the formal adoption in books 2 and 3 of a laudatory stance towardsthe princeps. The change coincides with the patronage ofMaecenas; it is accompanied by some outspoken comments and barbedreferences in book 2, and by some sly combinations of poems in book 3.7
Equally, the approach of the book would notparticularly fit the idea of imperial pressure, in a supposed ‘secondAugustan period' from c. 19 to c. 8 BC. Suetonius alleges that Horace was compelled by Augustus to write his fourth book of Odes (Vit. Hor. 39–43 Rostagni). He may simply be drawing an inference from Odes4.4 and 14 (praising Tiberius and Drusus' recent victories); on thesepoems in turn he may or may not have evidence. But the thesis of‘compulsion' is at least made more plausible than in the case ofPropertius book 4 by the relation of those Odes to things done lately by Augustus' close family; this fits in with the concerns of Aug. Epist. fr. 39 Malcovati (Augustus' regrets about, probably, Epistlesbook 1). Augustus' recent achievements receive only brief coverage inP. 4.6.77–84. ‘Compulsion' is also made more plausible for Odes 4 than Propertius 4 by the particular interest of Augustus in Horace: Augustus commissioned him to write the Carmen Saeculare, obliged him to write Epistles 2.1, wanted him to become his secretary for correspondence, and addressed to him affectionate and uneasy letters (Suet. Vit. Hor. 18–61, Aug. Epist.frr. 37–41 Malcovati). Positive pressure on P. to write book 4 does notfollow from the low profile of Maecenas both there and in Odes 4 (indirect allusion P. 4.8.1; Odes4.11.13–20 devoted but isolated reference). The disharmony betweenMaecenas and Augustus spoken of by Dio and others (Dio 54.19.3, 6 (16 BC), 55.7.5, Tac. Ann. 3.30.2–4; Suet. Aug.66.3) would account for this tact in regard to the patron with whomboth poets were associated. It is not even clear that P. is driven bytact, when book 4 so reduces the role of the narrator-poet, and whenbooks 2 and 3 address only one poem each to Maecenas (2.1; 3.9). If themanuscripts' book 2 was originally two books, book 2b addresses no poem to him.8
The two poems in book 4 with relatively directrelations to the régime, 6 and 11, have counterparts in book 3,probably published soon after 23 BC (3.11 on Actium; 3.18 on Marcellus, closer to the princepsthan Cornelia). In this area, a gradual development of P.'s work frombooks 2 to 4 appears more plausible. More broadly, a poetic fashion forexploring the remote Roman past seems likelier than imperial insistenceon that unpersonalized theme. Tibullus' great poem on the past, 2.5,praises his patron Messalla rather than Augustus. It draws inspirationfrom the Aeneid, which was already being written by 25 BC. The detail and plan at least of Virgil's poem seem to be his own initiative: Augustus did not know its outline (Don. Vit. Verg. 31, Aug. Epist.fr. 36 Malcovati). At all events, P.'s treatment of the past followsliterary predecessors and his own design rather than the outlook ofAugustus.9
One aspect internal to literature is of particular significance: the deaths of Virgil in 19 BC and of Tibullus in c. 19. Death places these figures themselves in the past. The Aeneid,whose process of birth was celebrated in 2.34.61–6, now exists; but itsauthor is a dead classic. Propertius 4 reworks much Virgilian material:so the first poem mentions Aeneas in the second line and 4.6 and 4.9connect throughout with Virgil. The book avoids the Aeneid'smonumental (if intricate) continuity of narrative; but through its owndiscontinuity it creates a still wider image of Rome. The Aeneid is diverged from, played with and constantly present. One book of the Aeneid(8) is concentrated on especially; such concentration eschews theappearance of reworking or miniaturizing the whole epic. 4.6, as wasindicated, removes from Actium the context of Virgilian continuity. 4.9affects as it were to make Virgilian continuity denser by inserting afresh story between act and altar (Aen. 8.185–275); it thus infact light-heartedly disrupts Virgil's narrative connection and its owncohesion of mood. Virgil's metamorphoses as a writer of hexameter,dwelt on in P. 2.34.59–84, stand in the background of P.'s ownevolution as displayed in book 4.10
The death of Tibullus, who is never mentioned inP. but with whom he is often in dialogue, leaves P. as a kind ofcontinuator (like one historian continuing another). The last part ofTibullus' last and probably unfinished poem is taken up in P. 4.5 andto some degree 4.7 (Tib. 2.6.29–42 (dead sister), 43–54 (lena)).The first poem, and the whole book, take up from Tibullus' penultimatepoem. This is somewhat like continuous things having the same extremity(Arist. Phys. 5.227a10–13), as in continuous parts of ageometrical line. One may contrast the interpolation within Virgil'snarrative in 4.9. The continuity also marks a significant caesura:elegy continues without and beyond Tibullus. In 4.7 itself, the deathof Cynthia is a more prominent and intimate expression of the apparentend of P.'s love-elegy, but not of elegy or the elegist.11
Horace's career is less of a presence (there seem no strong grounds to equate him with Hōros). Even in Odes books 1, 2 and 3 a biological dynamic is much more prominent in the depiction of the narrator. In Odes 4 (13 BC?),which may very well be later than Propertius 4, the age and achievementof the narrator are much more conspicuous for the reader than they arehere. The Odes are played with specifically as the book investigates the possibility of love-poetry without Cynthia (4.8). Horace's Satiresmay have made a general contribution to the poetry of the particular inPropertius 4, especially in conjuring up Rome (see section 3 below onvocabulary). The effect of the youngish Ovid is unknowable; thelikelihood that P. 4.5 precedes Amores 1.8 suggests the same for P. 4.3 and the Heroides (see introductions to those poems). A background will also have been created by numerous other poets now lost.12
3. PROPERTIAN AND ELEGIAC CONTEXT
A fundamental area of continuity or discontinuityfor the reader of book 4 is the poet's own past, and particularly thepreceding books. P. was born c. 58–54 BC, book 4indicates (1.131–2n.), in or near Assisi (cf. 1.[125–6]n.); his familysuffered from confiscations. After his first book, like Virgil afterthe Eclogues and Horace before his first publication, P. wastaken up by Maecenas. Book 1 was not published before L. Volcacius'governorship of Asia, which probably began earlier than 27 BC; book 2, or at least 2a,appeared not later than 25, book 3 not long after 23. After thisintensive activity (cf. 2.3.1–4) followed a substantial pause. Book 4is also preceded by what looks like emphatic closure to the series ofP.'s books: at the close of book 3 the affair with Cynthia which wasthe basis of the series is said to be at an end (3.24–5, cf. 3.17, 20,21, 23). This is an unexpected development after the elaborate build-upin the book's prologue poems of love-elegy as P.'s genre (3.1–3, cf.3.5.19–24, 9.43–6). The contemporary reader was left to wonder whatwould come next: (a) nothing; or (b) a resumption of love-elegy (in literature lovers' break-ups need never be final); or (c) a resumption of poetry but an abandonment of love-elegy and the principles of 3.1–3. In fact, after years of (a), both (b) and (c) are realized.13
The question for the reader of book 3 is made the more interesting, and (c)seems the more possible, because the body of that book has strained itslinks with love-elegy, while formally maintaining them. Many poems inbook 3 connect with the narrator-poet's love at beginning or end butdiverge into other subjects, including a mythological narrative (3.15);that type of escape is paralleled near the end of book 1 (1.20). Fewpoems deal directly with the narrator's love throughout. 3.5.19–48 haveactually contemplated the possibility of change after the affair: but achange to studying philosophy, with no mention of writing it, let alonein elegiacs.14
3.1–3 have presented the most elaborate accountof the genre, a topic which P. handles with growing fullness. As in 1.9and 2.34, the tradition of elegy is connected with love. In 1.9.11–12Mimnermus, who wrote among other things of love, is made the Greekrepresentative of the genre. In 2.34.29–32, the imitation ofCallimachus and Philetas, who were commonly ranked first and second aselegists, is conjoined with writing love-poetry. The list of Latinlove-poets at the end of the poem (85–94) reinforces the elegiacconnection. Callimachus and Philetas frame the group 3.1–3. Theimitation of Callimachus' elegiac prologue (Aet. frr. 1–4Massimilla) is here much more extensive; but P.'s sort of poetry islinked with love by Apollo and the Muse (3.3.19–20, 47–50), and withCynthia by the poet (3.2, cf. 3.1.11 Amores). Grounds for connecting Callimachus himself with love were developed by Ovid (Rem. 381–2, cf. 759–60); his love-epigram is prominently quoted by Horace (Sat. 1.2.105–8).15
A divorce between love and elegy appears, as wasseen, a possible consequence of book 3. But there are particularproblems. First, the image of elegy built up in books 1 to 3 involves aclose association between the poet and his notional life. Theconception is probably not new to P.: so in Eclogue 10 thelove-elegist's supposed life is bound up with his poetry, and escape ingenre and place is a paradox. How is a change from love within theelegiac genre to be expressed in terms of the narrator's life? Second,in P. books 1 to 3 there seems to be a strong generic specification:this is first-person poetry, set in the present day (and typically inRome); it deals with the narrator-poet's own supposed love. It will, byextension, be emotionally and pragmatically useful to other lovers. InP. the specification is to appear all-pervasive: the softness andseductiveness of elegy applies at every level from style onwards. How,then, is a separation of love and elegy possible? What has beenpublished seems to determine the future much more strongly than, say,for Virgil, who keeps to hexameter but ranges from love to war.Particularly relevant to book 4 is the inclusion in elegy'sself-definition of an opposition with epic, which has been presented asa genre concerned with war and with Roman history and politics. Veryearly Roman history and Actium have been prominent among the subjectscontrasted with the elegist's love-poetry.16
The emancipation in book 4 rests partly on anevent within the poet's notional life, the death of Cynthia; but morefundamental is a larger movement into the past, to create aredefinition of elegy. Elegy does not have an evolutionary history ofcontinuous progress, like that of Rome, or indeed Latin literature (cf.4.1.61 on Ennius). Rather, the single work of the single supremeexemplar forms the basis for a more profound restoration of the past.P. is in a way to Callimachus as Augustus is to Romulus (hisre-creation of Romulus is supported at 4.6.37–44); P., however, iscrossing nationalities. Nor is he returning to the founder, disputedfor elegy. He does, however, also make something of a return to theearly stages of the genre: it supposedly originated, apparently notbefore its literary inventor, in lament or eulogy of the dead, and thenin inscriptions (Hor. AP 75–8). Inscriptions featureextensively in the book, and two poems are themselves inscriptions (2and 11); the last poem, going back further still, recalls lamentationfor the dead.17
The actual literary history of Greek elegy ishard for us to write. The tendency of new discoveries is to expand ournotion of its possibilities. Poetry on mythical and contemporary war,including narrative, is now seen in archaic and classical elegy;love-poetry probably formed a part of Hellenistic elegy. The tightdefinition of the genre seen in Propertius books 1 to 3 and in someworks of Ovid is likely to be a Roman invention. But after theaccumulation of P.'s own and other Roman love-elegy, this return is toseem a bold and discontinuous leap.18
Formal discontinuity, recent finds suggest, is asignificant concern of Hellenistic books of elegy and epigram. Thesections of Posidippus' book cultivate discontinuity and so variety;Parthenius' (?) poem on metamorphosis (P. Oxy. 4711) proceeds byseparated sections rather than a flowing narrative. Continuity anddiscontinuity on many levels form a major concern of Callimachus' Aetia.That work traces practices which (theoretically) have lasted into thepresent. The poet presents himself as having continued his approach topoetry throughout his life (fr. 1 Massimilla). This self-presentationis perhaps connected with the gap in time between the first and lastpairs of books. However, the approach which the self-presentationdefends involves discontinuity (fr. 1.3 Massimilla): the defenceparticularly concerns the disjoined sections (or ‘poems') of books 3and 4, which by that very form are discontinuous with books 1 and 2. Inmost of books 1 and 2, the Muses answered the narrator's questions,within a continuous narrative. Those books provided an orderly set-up,with a relatively definite specification: the sections we know ofpredominantly explain surprising aspects of ritual in particularcities, and also of religious objects (statues of Artemis and Athena,frr. 35–8, 110 Massimilla). In books 3 and 4, diverse sections (poems)succeed each other with no liaison, not even a connecting particle(contrast frr. 9.19, 35, 50.84 Massimilla). Only a minority follow the‘classic' pattern of the religious πόβλημα (tricky question followed byanswer) as seen in the previous books. Some have no explanation ofpresent religious practice or objects at all (e.g. frr. 64, 67–75, 96,102, 106–7 Pfeiffer); some deal with the ending of a pastritual (frr. 91–3, 98–9 Pfeiffer; cf. already, perhaps, fr. 51Massimilla in book 2). There are, however, numerous thematicinterconnections between these sections and across the whole poem;these touch P.'s thematic network only incidentally.19