This article argues that an intentional acrostic spanning the first five lines of Propertius’ elegy for Cynthia's birthday (3.10), MANE[T], contributes significantly to the poignancy and purpose of the poem. MANE can be read as māne, ‘in the morning’, or manē, ‘stay!’, both of which emphasize the fleeting nature of dawn—and of Cynthia's youthful beauty. MANET can suggest both ‘[art] remains’ and ‘[death] awaits’. All four of these meanings work together to capture the tension between human transience and artistic immortality. (...) The theme is further enhanced by a balancing reverse telestich at the poem's end, ROSA RVES (‘[a] rose, you will fall to ruin’). (shrink)

The conflict between Jupiter and Juno in the Aeneid is commonly read as a battle between the forces of order and chaos. The present article argues that this schematization, though morally and aesthetically satisfying, fails to account for most of the data. Virgil's Jupiter is in fact concerned solely with power and adulation, despite persistent attempts by readers——and characters in the poem——to see him as benign. By systematically discussing every appearance of Jupiter in the poem, the article seeks to correct (...) the distorted or incomplete views of the god that arise from selective examination. The first section looks at Jupiter's own speeches to illustrate his motivations. The second section demonstrates how these motivations, though frequently misconstrued by the human characters, are confirmed by the glimpses of Jupiter focalized through the omniscient narrator. The third discusses the implications of this portrait of Jupiter for Virgil's vision of Rome and of human happiness. (shrink)

The conflict between Jupiter and Juno in the Aeneid is commonly read as a battle between the forces of order and chaos . The present article argues that this schematization, though morally and aesthetically satisfying, fails to account for most of the data. Virgil's Jupiter is in fact concerned solely with power and adulation , despite persistent attempts by readers—and characters in the poem—to see him as benign. By systematically discussing every appearance of Jupiter in the poem, the article seeks (...) to correct the distorted or incomplete views of the god that arise from selective examination. The first section looks at Jupiter's own speeches to illustrate his motivations. The second section demonstrates how these motivations, though frequently misconstrued by the human characters, are confirmed by the glimpses of Jupiter focalized through the omniscient narrator. The third discusses the implications of this portrait of Jupiter for Virgil's vision of Rome and of human happiness. (shrink)

Gutter-minded readings of Ovid have a venerable ancient precedent in Martial. As Stephen Hinds points out, the epigrammatist has a particular knack for ‘editorializing on the euphemistic language of elegy by “staining” it, in more or less complicated ways; it can be argued that the intertext between Ovidian and Martialian erotics, as well as differentiating them, tends to give the reader both a more Ovidian Martial and a more Martialian Ovid than before’. The present note will subject a famous and (...) somewhat puzzling Ovidian passage to the kind of treatment that Martial might have given it. The alert reader will notice that this is, on one level, a dodge—an excuse for skirting the issue of Ovid's intentions and abjuring responsibility for whatever ‘staining’ may occur. But perhaps I shall be forgiven if I can show how listening in on an imagined intertextual conversation between two of antiquity's wittiest authors pays dividends in bringing out Martial's Ovidian side, a genius for innuendo combined with literary insight that can be too easily drowned out by his barrage of primary obscenities. (shrink)

As the classic of classics and the bridge between pagan antiquity and the Christian era, Virgil’s Aeneid stands at the center of the humanities’ Great Conversation. Yet this poem of Empire, with its flawed hero and its ambivalence toward divine and temporal power, raises more questions than it answers about the nature of human history. The epic’s true moral complexity, mirroring the insoluble conundrum that is human life, makes it especially relevant in an era whose political polarization resembles civil war. (...) Reflecting on centuries of readers’ deeply personal relationships with the Aeneid, this article discusses how even today the “greatest text” can provide companionship and inspiration on our life’s journey. (shrink)