Ad Portas Inferni

The semester’s end approaches, and so far I’ve rendered 400 lines of Aeneid VI into terza rima. I hope to have the whole rendering done by mid summer. As a taste, here are lines 268-312, describing Aeneas and Deiphobe’s descent through upper Hell all the way to the shores of the Styx. For the enlightened, the Latin text is here.

They passed through the shadows of solit’ry night,
through vacuous, hollow dominions of Dis,
as under the glare of the moon’s obscure light,
 
in forests where Jove hides the realms that he rules,
by nocturnal darkness all color’s purloined.
Foremost in those jaws, there in Hell’s vestibule, 
 
Depression and vindictive Cares have their haunts,
here pallid Diseases, and woeful Old Age,
and Fear, tempting Hunger, dishon’rable Want, 
 
and here Toil and Death, ghastly sights to behold,
then Death’s brother Sleep, and the mind’s evil Joys,
and death-dealing War in the facing threshold,
 
Eumenides’ strongholds and mindless Discord;
blood-drenched is her hair, with dread vipers asnare.
An elm midway down stretches branches outward.
 
False Dreams hold in throng the abodes of this tree,
and cling fast beneath all its manifold leaves.
Diverse come these bestial monstrosities:
 
Stabled are Centaurs, and double-formed Scyllas,
Briareus hundred-armed, and with her hiss,
the bane of Lerna and flaming Chimaera,
 
Gorgons, and Harpies, and Geryon formed triple.
Aeneas in dreadfulness unsheathes his sword,
to what may draw nigh, his eyes are kept watchful;
 
and lest his wise partner advise that these shades
are bodiless ghosts, but mere phantoms in flight,
in vain he’d rush forth slicing air with his blade.
 
Hence leads to Acheron, stream of Tartarus,
a whirlpool of muck seething through the abyss,
which all its silt vomits into Cocytus.
 
a ferryman watches o’er these waterways,
called Charon, in squalor: upon whose gray chin
hangs a long scraggly beard; his eyes stand ablaze,
 
and down to his knees filthy clothes he displays,
propels with a pole and attends to the sails.
The rusty old skiff ev’ry spirit conveys.
 
Though ancient his green immortality’s fresh.
And hither a multitude flooded the banks,
of mothers and men, and the shades stripped of flesh:
 
magnanimous heroes, boys and unwed girls,
and youths placed on pyres before parents’ faces:
like as autumn’s cold casts off leaves in a whirl
 
or birds forced by troublesome waters to land
when wintery weather takes flight ‘cross the sea
unleashing itself on the sun-loving sands. 

De Tacito

While Livy wrote at the empire’s consolidation, Publius Cornelius Tacitus wrote at the zenith of Roman conquest under Trajan. Through his Annals and Histories he is the authority on the years from the death of Augustus (14 CE) to that of Domitian in 96. The former work bears heavy focus on the personalities of emperors and their role in a post-Republican society. In Book XII we find the British king Caratacus at the court of Claudius. In a short speech, this noble savage examines the Roman right of subjugation and the dignity of foreign peoples:

Si quanta nobilitas et Fortuna mihi fuit, tanta rerum prosperarum moderatio fuisset, amicus potius in hanc urbem quam captus venissem, neque dedignatus esses claris maiorbius ortum, plurimis gentibus imperitantem foedere in pacem accipere. Praesens sors mea ut mihi informis, sic tibi magnifica est. Habui equos viros, arma opes. Quid mirum si haec invitus amisi? Nam si vos omnibus imperitare vultis, sequitur ut omnes servitutem accipiant? Si statim deditus traderer, neque mea Fortuna neque tua gloria inclaruisset; et supplicium mei oblivio sequeretur; at si incolumem servaveris, aeternum exemplar clementiae ero. (Tacitus, Annals XII.xxxvii.92-103)
 
If moderation of successes had been as great as my nobility and Fortune, I might be coming to this city more preferably a friend than a captive, nor would you have disdained to receive in peace by treaty one having risen from brilliant ancestors and commanding several nations. My present lot, disfiguring as it is to me, is magnificent to you. I had horses, men, weapons and wealth. What wonder is it if I have lost these things unwillingly? For if you wish to command all peoples, does it follow that they all accept slavery? If I were handed over in immediate surrender, neither my Fortune nor your glory would have seemed so brilliant; and my punishment would be followed by oblivion; but if you keep me free from harm, I will be an eternal example of your clemency.

This passage discusses the role of pomp and circumstance in sustaining the emperor’s reputation. Citizens prefer triumphs rather than preemptive diplomacy. It is the contrast of the enemy’s humiliation that glorifies the victor. Caratacus makes this specific point directly to Claudius (esses) before addressing the Romans in general on the question of domination (vos omnibus imperitare vultis). Thus Tacitus renders advice both to his patron and his people. He reminds the latter audience that their affluent society is built on slave labor, and that these slaves were once dignified men like themselves. The only difference was the vicissitude of Fortune. This also counters Aristotle’s view that people are masters and slaves by nature; the Politics favored patricians, who equated birth with merit. Tacitus favored merit, his patrons’ system of succession, after a century of calamitous family rule. Caratacus doesn’t revile Claudius as would Mithridates; but the majority of Tacitus’ imperial characters would get such treatment. From the “uncivilized” perspective, the spectacle of supremacy becomes a “vanity of vanities.”            

           

While historians are products of their environment, they can still weave common threads across time and space. What we find are deeper philosophical and ethical questions, the answers to which determine an entire view of the past and present. Sallust wrote among the turbulence of civil strife, the consequence of a spoiled state. Through Mithridates he exposes Roman virtues as the vices that were tearing his fatherland to pieces, with such rhetoric that Pompey or Sulla would never use. Livy wrote in a cheerful aftermath. He lacked the cynicism to condemn the past; rather he reopened the debate over preordination. But Tacitus saw imperial calamity equal to that of the late Republic. He compromised distaste for enslavement with the meritocracy of his Good Emperors.

Rome’s enemies were at variance with the idea that Rome was superior both by destiny and nobility. The course of events was unkind to them. Thus they more credited the goddess Fortuna’s work than any other. She is the patron saint of humanism. Through her, Sallust can censure the bestial rapacity of Roman conquest; Livy can raise Hannibal to Scipio’s level; likewise Caratacus to Claudius through Tacitus. Removing divine favor accentuates human achievement, however inhumane.

The proper historian does not simply relate facts. He offers multiple perspectives and the lessons wherefrom. Without a look from without, history becomes mere propaganda. Voicing an alternative worldview through adversaries is how the narrator places himself in the narrative, without the perils of sedition. The prosperity of Rome from Scipio to Claudius is at first glance providential. Therefore Sallust, Livy and Tacitus took Romans’ heads out of the clouds, brought them down to earth, and let them face their fellow human beings, even those across the battlefield. 

De Livio

And that brings us to Titus Livius. His monumental Ab Urbe Condita, a full compendium of Roman history, survives only to cover the monarchy, early Republic, and Punic Wars. Of the latter he pens an exhaustive account of how two Mediterranean superpowers vied for world domination. Livy represents the Augustan program of re-foundation by reliving Rome’s glorious, virtuous past. To justify his patron’s reign, he established models such as Numa, Camillus, and Scipio; the latter of which was the hero of the Second Punic War. In Book XXX we find his arch nemesis Hannibal offering an armistice before the pivotal battle of Zama. The name of Hannibal to Roman society was equal to that of Hitler to ours. As the greatest threat to the physical welfare of the city of Rome herself, Hannibal was popularized as a barbarian butcher. So for Livy to grant him such civil discourse tells his readers to take his viewpoint seriously.

Si hoc ita fato datum erat, ut qui primus bellum intuli populo Romano quique totiens prope in manibus victoriam habui, is ultro ad pacem petendam venirem, laetor te mihi sorte potissimum datum a quo peterem. Tibi quoque inter multa egregia non in ultimis laudum hoc fuerit, Hannibalem, cui tot de Romanis ducibus victoriam di dedissent, tibi cessisse…hoc quoque ludibrium casus ediderit Fortuna…optimum quidem fuerat eam patribus nostris mentem datam ab dis esse ut et vos Italiae et nos Africae imperio contenti essemus; neque enim ne vobis quidem Sicilia ac Sardinia satis digna pretia sunt pro tot classibus, tot exercitibus, tot tam egregiis amissis ducibus. Sed praeterita magis reprehendi possunt quam corrigi. Ita aliena adpetivimus ut de nostris dimicaremus, nec in Italia solum nobis bellum, vobis in Africa esset, sed et vos in portis vestris prope ac moenibus signa armaque hostium vidistis et nos ab Carthagine fremitum castrorum Romanorum exaudimus. Quod igitur nos maxime abominaremur, vos ante omina optaretis, in meliore vestra Fortuna de pace agitur. (Livy, Ab Urbe Condita XXX.xxx.3-9)
 
If this was thus granted by fate, that I, first to have waged war on the Roman people and who so often nearly had victory in my clutches, at the end would be coming to you to beg for peace, and I rejoice that it is you, most preferably granted by destiny, from whom I might seek it. For you also, among your many distinctions, this will have been not the least of your honors, that Hannibal, to whom the gods had granted victory over so many Roman generals, has surrendered to you…Fortune also may prove these events to be her mere sport…indeed it would have been best that an attitude had been granted to our fathers by the gods that you might be content with control of Italy and us of Africa; for not even Sicily and Sardinia are worthy enough prizes for us at the cost of so many fleets, so many armies, and so many such excellent generals being lost. But the past can be more easily disgraced than corrected. Thus grasping at foreign lands it resulted that we fight for our own, and that our war was not solely in Italy, nor yours in Africa, rather you have seen the standards and arms of the enemy near your walls and we from Carthage have heard the rustle of a Roman camp. Consequently that which we most abominate, you pray for before all things: a suit for peace while Fortune is in your favor.

This speech discusses the Livian conflict of Fata versus Fortuna. Is history fatalistic and divinely predetermined? Or does chance and probability govern events? The first sentence reinforces the historical irony that Hannibal, who decimated entire armies on Italian soil, on his own faces defeat. Thus he entertains the question whether such an improbable event was willed supernally (si hoc ita fato datum erat). Vergil would say yes, and his colleague Livy was sure to let his audience imagine the teleology behind Augustus’ rise to power. Also arguing for this is Hannibal’s certitude, in the second sentence, that the gods were once on his side (victoriam di dedissent).

But then he considers the other argument, that Fortuna held superior sway, mockingly impartial (ludibrium). Perhaps no logos governs events, only chaos. Favoring this contradicts the Stoic cosmos manifested in the Augustan regime, whereby a single mind maintains cosmopolitan order. But attributing such thoughts to a fiend like Hannibal keeps the historian innocent. Livy does humanize Hannibal as he expresses his wish (optimum quidem) that divine intervention were possible (mentem datam ab dis), especially to avoid tragic losses (pro tot classibus…amissis). However, keeping the two empires at peace would not fulfill a fatalistic teleology of history. 

How you answer this central question is essential to understanding Hannibal’s role in the narrative. If the Fates are to blame, then Hannibal appears a fool to have opposed Rome’s destiny. The moral is not to impede (aliena adpetivimus) those whom Heaven favors. But if dame Fortune was the culprit, he offers one of the greatest lessons of Livy’s masterpiece: don’t push your luck! It was mere chance that there was a polar shift in circumstances, that both peoples faced doom. The scales of Fortune balance unpredictably and impartially. It was equally probable that Scipio would be the one begging for peace, while Fortune favored the Carthaginians (in meliore vestra Fortuna de pace agitur).

Lastly, note the shift from singular to plural. The speech begins as a direct address to Scipio, describing the feats of Hannibal alone. This matches the Vergilian epic paradigm of gods and heroes entertained simultaneously. So as he shifts from Fata to Fortuna, he widens the scope of history from the one to the many. For an ancient scholar reading out loud, to start speaking vos and vobis got the attention of his fellow Romans. Likewise Hannibal represents the Carthaginian worldview speaking nos and nobis. What starts as a theatrical heroic monologue becomes a cultural exposition, that Carthage was just as likely to rule the world as Rome, and that the Carthaginians felt the same terrors as Romans with the enemy at the gates. Through the adversary’s perspective, Livy clears his compatriots’ eyes of the God complex reinforced by centuries of unrivaled success. What they see is a time before being Roman afforded universal reverence. 

De Sallustio

In addition to my training as a Latinist I am also striving to become an ancient historian. Conveniently, this semester’s advanced Latin sequence course “Prose of the Late Republic & Early Empire” is examining the works of Julius Caesar and Cornelius Tacitus and their discourses on Roman Britain. Consisting of only the “Triumvirate” of James Brophy, Joe Mileson and yours truly, it has been the most intense Latin course yet, moving at graduate-pace over one of the most difficult prose stylists of antiquity, Tacitus. Thus I am having a very intimate experience with ancient historiography. For a research project I opted to trace that tradition across three periods of the Roman literary tradition: the civil wars and the Golden and Silver ages. Of the two latter I studied Livy and Tacitus. In this first installment of this historical triptych, I look at part of Sallust’s Histories, a fragmentary work of the chaotic middle 1st-century BCE.

So I introduce my discussion of Roman historians’ adoption of Rome’s enemies as voiced figures in their narratives. All translations are my own:

“History is the privilege of the conqueror. Chroniclers of every victorious nation, from antiquity to modernity, encapsulate their patria’s perspective in prose. Authors of the height of Rome enjoyed the fruits of empire heaped upon their own ruling class. Some were also thankful to have a patron monarch to immortalize their interpretations of the past and present. But what of the conquered? Surely their viewpoints would enrich a universal understanding of history, however contrary to those of the rulers. In the same way Thucydides placed the Spartan worldview in the mouths of his enemies, so Roman annalists gave voice to the vanquished. Pretending a look from without, they offer a different, perhaps more honest interpretation of their epoch.

So let us examine texts representing the triptych of Rome’s climax: the Civil War, the Golden and Silver ages. In that order Sallust, Livy and Tacitus apply their present perspectives to past events. Each briefly adopts the antagonist’s persona: Sallust of Mithridates, Livy of Hannibal and Tacitus of Caratacus. In separate departures from the Roman frame of mind, and across time, they offer the greatest lessons of the circumstances and consequences of imperium Romanum. 

Though Livy wrote of an earlier period, an historian’s own context determines the nature of his writing. Gaius Sallustius Crispus (86-34 BCE) is famous for his works on the Jugurthine War and the conspiracy of Catiline; but his opus maius was the Histories of the years 78-67 BCE. Only fragments remain of a work undoubtedly insightful into internal and external conflicts. Of the latter he must have covered the Third Mithridatic War, of whose namesake monarch a letter to Parthia remains. Adopting the guise of Mithridates VI frees Sallust from all patriotism in one of the most anti-Roman polemics written in Golden Age Latin.

Ille enim obnoxius qualem tu voles societatem accipiet, mihi Fortuna multis rebus ereptis usum dedit bene suadendi et, quod florentibus optabile est, ego non validissumus praebeo exemplum, quo rectius tua componas. (Sallust, Epistula Mithridatis line 4)
 
For [Tigranes] is at your mercy and will accept an alliance such as to your liking, and Fortune, though many things she took from me, has granted me the advantage of good advice and, since it is advantageous for those flourishing, I not at the height of my power serve as an example in respect of which you may conduct your affairs more rightly.

Mithridates, defeated by Pompey, warns the king of Parthia to join forces with Armenia in a crusade against Roman hegemony. Fallen from power, his humbled position provides a clearer view from below, no longer blinded by confidence and success. Could this also be Sallust’s advice to the Rome? Through Mithridates, he teaches his own people that the counsel of the conquered can be just as if not more valuable to the conquerors. Rome viewed Parthia as a rival empire as menacing as the treacherous text below:

Namque Romanis cum nationibus, populis, regibus cunctis una et ea vetus causa bellendi est, cupido profunda imperi et divitiarum; qua primo cum rege Macedonum Philippo bellum sumpsere, dum a Carthaginiensibus premebantur amicitiam simulantes. Ei subvenientem Antiochum concessione Asiae per dolum avortere, ac mox fracto Philippo Antiochus omni cis Taurum agro et decem milibus talentorum spoliatus est….Persen deinde… (Sallust, Epistula Mithridatis 5-7)
 
For to the Romans there is one inveterate reason for waging war on all nations, peoples and kings: a profound lust of power and riches; by which they first began a war with king Philip of the Macedonians, hitherto feigning friendship with him while they were being pressured by the Carthaginians. Through trickery they diverted Antiochus, who was coming in aid, by the surrender of Asia, and soon after Philip was crushed Antiochus was robbed of all his land this side of the Taurus mountains and of ten thousand talents. Next Perses…

Sallust tears away the façade of honos and virtus for the real forces behind Roman domination: cupido profunda imperi et divitiarum, “a profound lust of power and riches.” Sallust, born plebeian, had no reason to defend the nobility’s exploitation of peoples at home and abroad. Military valor and diplomatic honesty sugarcoat the true treachery behind the tactics of empire. Alliances (amicitiam simulantes) only last as long as they are needed to eliminate a common threat, whenceforth allies become more profitable as provinces than client kingdoms. Note the passive and objective roles of Rome’s victims, as if the absence of Rome would allow a peaceful world. Sallust describes the two centuries since the Punic Wars as Rome’s enslavement of the Mediterranean, the spoils of which have polluted the capital with luxury and vice.

Nam quid ego me appellem? Quem diiunctum undique regnis et tetrarchiis ab imperio eorum, quia fama erat divitem neque serviturum esse, per Nicomedem bello lacessiverunt, sceleris eorum haud ignarum…ego ultus iniurias Nicomedem Bithynia expuli Asiamque spolium regis Antiochi recepi et Graeciae dempsi grave servitium. Incepta mea postremus servorum Archelaus exercitu prodito impedivit. (Sallust, Epistula Mithridatis 10-12)
 
For why should I call upon my own affairs? Although I was separated from their empire by kingdoms and tetrarchies on all sides, because it was rumored I was rich and that I would not become a slave, [the Romans] provoked me to war by way of Nicomedes, though I was not at all unaware of their villainy…I avenging these injustices expelled Nicomedes from Bithynia, recovered Asia and the spoils taken from king Antiochus, and redeemed the Greeks from cruel slavery. Then Archelaus, the basest of slaves, frustrated my undertakings by betraying my army.

Observe the contrast in language describing Mithridates and the Romans. The former becomes a messianic avenger (ultus…dempsi) of the Hellenistic world; the latter and her allies the harbingers of slavery (grave servitium…postremus servorum), of fraudulence (sceleris…prodito), and injustice (iniurias). Sallust sets Mithridates up as the savior of the Greek-speaking world, defending the rights of sovereign peoples in the shadow of a cosmopolitan superpower. Note how this change in perspective spins the “liberation” of Greece by Flamininus into what it really was: the exchange from one dominus to another. Finally, he casts loyalists to the Roman state as the “basest of slaves” (postremus servorum) for they surrendered themselves willingly, rather than in dignified defeat. Through Mithridates, Sallust offers the victims’ perspective much as Vergil wrote his alternative account of the Trojan War.  

An ignoras Romanos, postquam ad occidentem pergentibus finem Oceanus fecit, arma huc convortisse? Neque quicquam a principio nisi raptum habere, domum, coniuges, agros, imperium? Convenas olim sine patria, parentibus, pestem conditos orbis terrarum, quibus non humana ulla neque divina obstant, quin socios, amicos, procul iuxta sitos, inopes potentisque trahant excindant, omniaque non serva et maxume regna hostilia ducant…Romani arma in omnis habent, acerruma in eos, quibus victis spolia maxuma; audendo et fallundo et bella ex bellis serundo magni facti. (Sallust, Epistula Mithridatis 17-21)
 
Or are you ignorant of the fact that it was only after the Ocean set a boundary to their westward progress that the Romans turned their arms in our direction? That they have possessed nothing since their inception except that which they have stolen: their home, their wives, their lands, their empire? That they at one time were vagabonds without a fatherland, without parents, founded as a the scourge of the world, no laws human or divine hinder them from destroying allies and friends, those far and near, those weak and mighty, and from considering every state that isn’t a slave to them, especially monarchies, as hostile.

Compare this first line of this passage to Aeneid I.287: imperium oceano, famam qui terminet astris (he will limit his empire by the ocean, his fame by the stars). Whereas Vergil, under Augustus’ regime, would justify conquest as a gift of the gods (imperium sine fine dedi), Sallust attributes it to a very Machiavellian cupido profunda imperi. We see a similar variance between Manifest Destiny and the Native American viewpoint. Next he preempts the mythical exordia of Ab Urbe Condita I with criminal origins. How cynical for Sallust to condemn what even his fellow moralists long for! “His careful study of Thucydides and Cato is apparent.” He combines the speech writing of the former with the moralism of the latter. In the safety of an enemy’s correspondence, Roman history is depraved from the start, not a virtuous past succumbing to décadence.

What permitted such contemptuous words to spice up the literary canon? First of all, the author can plead innocence, claiming an adversary’s words as not his own, but hearsay or translation. However, the literate and thus intelligent audience would not easily take this as the direct speech of Mithridates. Sallust, a popularis, benefited from the dictator Caesar’s free speech policy. After 44 BCE, the political vacuum granted space to operate objectively, before Octavian’s clients redefined Roman literature.”

Principia Excentrica

Stemming from an April Fools’ joke in which we translated part of Zev Eisenberg’s father’s website into Latin, I decided to make a more permanent contribution to the Avner the Eccentric franchise. So in a much-needed workout of my English-to-Latin skills, I rendered into Latin his 16 precepts of performance clowning, the Eccentric Principles:

I. Scurrae efficiendum est ut auditores sentiant atque spirent.
II. Omnes inhalant, sed plerique nostri ut exhalent monendi sunt.
II. Cogitatio et cerebrum corpori adligati sunt et quod adficunt. Mutatio tanta menti quanta corpori. Quae tanta corpori (id est, in spirando primum) quanta menti.
IV. Ne imperateve monstrate auditoribus quae putanda faciendaque sentienda.
V. Ne imperateve monstrate participibus quae putanda faciendaque sentienda. Ne indicate digito.
VI. Pondus alvo est. Servate abdomini inferiori locum singulum. Sustinete vigorem fluentem.
VII. Intentio vobis hostis, quae animae mentique corpori torporem effecerit.
VIII. Quae de spectaculo vestro sentiatis graviora quibus vero bonisve malis factis.
IX. Scurra auditores qui ordinibus sedeant et spatium conspiciant et spectaculum exspectent invenit. Quod primum per auditores complexos faciendum est.
X. Scurra mundum in spatio creat, ne creatum iam intret (scaena facta).
XI. Sitis pantomimi causa phantasiae creandae, non veritatis recreandae.
XII. Scurra ut ludum et praecepta cuius faciat petit, quae inde obsequienda.
XIII. Ne quaeriteve imperate auditoribus sensa aut cogita. Experiamini anima et invitate auditores ad responsum vestrum partiendum.
XIV. Sitis fascinati, non fascinantes.
XV. Omnibus totam vitam spirandum est, etiam in scaena.
XVI. Scurra scaenam pro operi, non risibus, ascendit. Si risus sint, interpellationes curandae sunt.

Click here for the original English. The Eccentric Clown Principles are also in Spanish, Catalan, Hebrew, Portugese and Italian (ancient and modern…).

As for the blog launch, I’ve gotten great feedback from profs and peers alike. I’m even more excited to keep the scope of this project as ambitious as I can muster. The comments on ZephyrBlog were particularly humorous:

Modus Operandi

So in describing what I’ve accomplished so far I’ll explain the project’s various circles–I mean–stages. My first task was to produce a literal, prose translation of Aeneid VI into English. It took about a month to transcribe 901 lines of Latin, staying faithful to each word’s meaning and line position. Such can be difficult given the disparity between inflected Latin and syntax-enslaved English. Having a quick reference to a literal translation will assist my study of the Latin as I render it all poetically. Here are six lines, the product of this first step:

103      Incipit Aeneas heros: ‘non ulla laborum,
104      o virgo, nova mi facies inopinave surgit;
105      omnia praecepi atque animo mecum ante peregi.
106      unum oro: quando hic inferni ianua regis
107      dicitur et tenebrosa palus Acheronte refuso,
108      ire ad conspectum cari genitoris…
 
103      The hero Aeneas begins: “not any form of suffering,
104      oh virgin, appears new or unexpected to me;
105      I have anticipated all these things beforehand and I have passed through them in my mind.
106      I beg only this: since it is said that here is the doorway of the king of Hell
107      and the gloomy marsh whence the Acheron pours out,
108      it would fulfill my wishes to go to the sight of my dear father…

As you can see, English’s lack of declensions and inflections, and reliance on Germanic utility words and helping verbs, dilutes the compact beauty of Latin. The challenge now is to condense the English into lines of eleven syllables. Thus, the shorter Germanic words will seem more appealing, and apostrophes and contractions shall abound. But if you look at Dante’s Italian, you see the same thing. So far I have rendered the first 150 lines into meter, breaking the entire prose translation into tercets. As for the rhyme scheme, I simultaneously rhyme the first and third line of each tercet. The end result of this stage will appear similar to John Ciardi’s 1954 translation of the Divina Commedia, which happened to be my first experience with Dante. Here are the same six lines processed through step two:

103     Hero Aeneas starts: “no form of anguish,
104     oh virgin, comes new or abrupt to my sight.
105     Of all these future events I am conscious.
 
106      I pray: for the king of Hell’s gates loom hither
107      and the marshy gloom whence Acheron outpours,
108     fulfilled be my wishes to see my father.

Endless edits should fine-tune each line to an easy flow. However, in terza rima the second line of one tercet rhymes with the first and third lines of the next tercet. Ciardi did not do this, but it will be step three for me. After that, I will squish all the tercets together into a flowing narrative. For Vergil’s hexameters weren’t often grouped by self-contained threes. Even Dante’s text is contiguous, no spaces between tercets. 

In addition to the translation sector I am enjoying John Sinclair’s literal rendering of the Divine Comedy, which is juxtaposed to the Italian text. I am currently enrolled in Italian through the Critical Languages Program to get the basics of the language for which terza rima was intended. On audiobook I have a spectacular reading by Simon Callow of Robert Fagles’ new translation of the Aeneid. Secondary sources will include modern commentaries on both texts, and their ancient influences: Homer, Plato,  Cicero and Augustine to name a few. 

I’ve been meeting with Dr. Passman every other week to structure my progress, and it’s been a rush so far. I hope to have the metric rendering finished by semester’s end and a final product after the summer. Then will begin work on a massive commentary. Research is pleasure reading at this point. This fall looks to be a busy, 21-credit whirwind through the halls of ancient history, philosophy and philology. But amidst the chaos, I’ll order my grand plan to fulfillment, little by little. 

Manifesto Infernale

By the encouragement of Dr. Kristina Passman and the modeling of my esteemed colleague James Brophy, I have created a blog for my Honors undergraduate thesis project at the University of Maine. As an homage to the supreme language of Latin and my two favorite texts, Vergil’s Aeneid and Dante’s Inferno, I intend to unite the three in a full English translation of Aeneid Book VI into terza rima, the rhyme and meter employed in the Divina Commedia. In addition I shall write an extensive commentary, exploring the religious, philosophical and literary influences of both poets, especially one upon the other. My goal is to complete the project by the end of 2010. 

The purpose of “Vergil’s Inferno” is to explore and explicate the influence of Vergil’s vision of the afterlife upon Dante, and thus the prevailing concepts of damnation and deliverance. I will exercise my mastery of the Latin language, my understanding of poetry, and my deep fascination with the classical world and the debt to it the modern world fails to pay. 

How a pagan poet created a Christian Hell….

What you’ll see here is all my progress that’s fit to print, both as a journal and a exhibition to general interest. I will share translations, research texts, and anything relating to the project or my classical studies here at UMaine. So please show your support and feedback to keep me at a high pace. Leave comments, criticisms, libels, you name it. If you’re reading it then it was worth my time.

Learn more about me, and my idols Vergil and Dante right here on the site. And please check my associates’ blogs to the right. Thank you.