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<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> I would very much appreciate
any reactions that people on the list might have to some thoughts I've put
together on a particular passage in Book IV that has long fascinated me.
Apropos of certain recent mails on this list, I would like to mention that I'm
not a student.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> I'm interested in the scene in
which Anna pleads with Aeneas to stay with Dido, but he refuses. At
IV.441
ff., Vergil says that Aeneas withstands Anna's pleas as an oak withstands the
tempest: its leaves are torn free, but its trunk withstands the wind. It
survives. Vergil explains that the oak derives its great stength from the
fact that <I>quantum vertice ad auras </I>/<I> aetherias, tantum radice in
Tartara tendit</I>--'as far as the it lifts its top to the airs of heaven, so
far it strikes its roots down towards hell.' (Loeb translation).</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> This scene, and this simile, strike
me as one of the most important in the whole work. There is obviously a
significant structural break following the fourth book, as the issues of the
first four books (Dido, Aeneas's lack of focus etc.) are resolved (for better
or
worse), and new issues (Turnus, diplomacy etc.) take their place. After
Book Four, Aeneas' agenda no longer seems to be whether to found Rome, but
how. And I think it is in the scene with Anna that we first realize that
he is changing. This is our first glimpse of the new man, and the simile
that Vergil places at this center of gravity for the whole work says a great
deal about who that man will be.</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> That new man is compared with
an oak, which gets its strength from a peculiar sort of balance: as high
as it reaches, so too does it grasp deeper "<EM>in
Tartara</EM>." I recognize that one must be careful not to equate
the
Roman underworld with Christian "hell", but I think it is
nevertheless
fair to say that Vergil is saying that the oak can achieve its heights because
it also partakes of something, shall we say, chthonian. What is being
said
about Aeneas here? What are these roots reaching into the
underworld? His ability to harden himself to the love of a woman?
Perhaps it is just a Stoical message that Aeneas's ability to focus on duty
"saves" Aeneas from the "tempest" of emotion that is
buffeting him. But this Stoical interpretation ignores the Tartarus
reference. I think all of this is unsettling, but consistent with Jove
having fiends (<EM>Dirae</EM>) born of Night by his throne, and using them to
assassinate people (XII.843 ff.). (Maybe this is how Jove survives
too.)</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> For that matter, what are the
leaves that are torn from this oak by the tempest? What does Aeneas lose
the day of Anna's visit? Dido, surely, but what else? Perhaps the
prospect of ever having anything other than a "professional"
marriage. In any event, I think it's something more that
"innocence."</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT color=#000000 face=Arial> At the risk of
<EM>entirely</EM> 20th-century-izing an ancient simile, I'll ask: is
Aeneas's <EM>ego</EM> (in either the sense-of-self, or the
inflated-sense-of-self sense) a leaf or a root? What about luck?
Vision or leadership ability? <EM>Lack</EM> of vision/obliviousness or
leadership ability? The oak stands while the others fall, so presumably
it
is better to stand... but why? Is it more <EM>noble </EM>to do
so?</FONT></DIV>
<DIV><FONT face=Arial> Any thoughts? Or perhaps any
references
to scholarship focusing on this passage, or on the symbolic importance of the
oak? I remember being told that Vergil uses an oak simile in the Georgics
or Eclogues, but cannot remember where, and in any event do not recall the
simile having the same moral freight. I also note that Cassell's Latin
Dictionary lists the following as a definition of "robur" (in
addition
to "oak"): "the underground dungeon in the prison of Servius
Tullius at Rome." I also have an architectual dictionary that
corroborates this (in fact states that the "robur" was specifically
the chamber in which executions took place. The OCD, however, calls this
chamber the "Tullianum.") Would this have added an overtone in
ancient times to Vergil's reference to Aeneas as an oak?
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From: "Dan King" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: Re: VIRGIL: The Oak Simile in Book IV
Date: Sat, 7 Nov 1998 18:33:01 -0000
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the reference is Georgic II.291-2. Here the simile is expanded
considerably, but doesn't seem to bear much relation in terms of its
meaning
----------
From: Oliver P Metzger <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Subject: VIRGIL: The Oak Simile in Book IV
Date: Saturday, November 07, 1998 5:38 PM
I would very much appreciate any reactions that people on the list might
have to some thoughts I've put together on a particular passage in Book IV
that has long fascinated me. Apropos of certain recent mails on this list,
I would like to mention that I'm not a student.
I'm interested in the scene in which Anna pleads with Aeneas to stay
with Dido, but he refuses. At IV.441 ff., Vergil says that Aeneas
withstands Anna's pleas as an oak withstands the tempest: its leaves are
torn free, but its trunk withstands the wind. It survives. Vergil
explains that the oak derives its great stength from the fact that quantum
vertice ad auras / aetherias, tantum radice in Tartara tendit--'as far as
the it lifts its top to the airs of heaven, so far it strikes its roots
down towards hell.' (Loeb translation).
This scene, and this simile, strike me as one of the most important in
the whole work. There is obviously a significant structural break
following the fourth book, as the issues of the first four books (Dido,
Aeneas's lack of focus etc.) are resolved (for better or worse), and new
issues (Turnus, diplomacy etc.) take their place. After Book Four, Aeneas'
agenda no longer seems to be whether to found Rome, but how. And I think
it is in the scene with Anna that we first realize that he is changing.
This is our first glimpse of the new man, and the simile that Vergil places
at this center of gravity for the whole work says a great deal about who
that man will be.
That new man is compared with an oak, which gets its strength from a
peculiar sort of balance: as high as it reaches, so too does it grasp
deeper "in Tartara." I recognize that one must be careful not to equate
the Roman underworld with Christian "hell", but I think it is nevertheless
fair to say that Vergil is saying that the oak can achieve its heights
because it also partakes of something, shall we say, chthonian. What is
being said about Aeneas here? What are these roots reaching into the
underworld? His ability to harden himself to the love of a woman? Perhaps
it is just a Stoical message that Aeneas's ability to focus on duty "saves"
Aeneas from the "tempest" of emotion that is buffeting him. But this
Stoical interpretation ignores the Tartarus reference. I think all of this
is unsettling, but consistent with Jove having fiends (Dirae) born of Night
by his throne, and using them to assassinate people (XII.843 ff.). (Maybe
this is how Jove survives too.)
For that matter, what are the leaves that are torn from this oak by the
tempest? What does Aeneas lose the day of Anna's visit? Dido, surely, but
what else? Perhaps the prospect of ever having anything other than a
"professional" marriage. In any event, I think it's something more that
"innocence."
At the risk of entirely 20th-century-izing an ancient simile, I'll ask:
is Aeneas's ego (in either the sense-of-self, or the inflated-sense-of-self
sense) a leaf or a root? What about luck? Vision or leadership ability?
Lack of vision/obliviousness or leadership ability? The oak stands while
the others fall, so presumably it is better to stand... but why? Is it
more noble to do so?
Any thoughts? Or perhaps any references to scholarship focusing on this
passage, or on the symbolic importance of the oak? I remember being told
that Vergil uses an oak simile in the Georgics or Eclogues, but cannot
remember where, and in any event do not recall the simile having the same
moral freight. I also note that Cassell's Latin Dictionary lists the
following as a definition of "robur" (in addition to "oak"): "the
underground dungeon in the prison of Servius Tullius at Rome." I also have
an architectual dictionary that corroborates this (in fact states that the
"robur" was specifically the chamber in which executions took place. The
OCD, however, calls this chamber the "Tullianum.") Would this have added
an overtone in ancient times to Vergil's reference to Aeneas as an oak?
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