Narratological studies of most texts can help bring to the fore aspects of their construction that may not have been noticed on first inspection and consequently can help reader, critic and student alike to identify or at least grasp towards a conception of their meaning. The Aeneid, despite defying any absolute reduction to any one single meaning as is the case so often with literature, can nonetheless be understood in perhaps a deeper manner when narrative technique is taken into account. Narrative technique and its study may reveal particular details within the Aeneid that may not be immediately obvious or which have been felt or indirectly understood rather than clearly identified. These details can cover the aspects of ‘point of view’, which can be further divided into the two questions of “who sees?”, and “who speaks?” for which we have the terms focalization and voice respectively. As well as such issues of whose eyes the reader is seeing through and whose voice he is listening to there are considerations of plot, of structure and of theme to take into account also.
A basic consideration of what is meant by the narrative proper can be found in the work of M. Bal whose conception of and differentiation between the basic pattern of fabula (a “series of logically and chronologically related events that are caused or experienced by actors”[1]) and the Narrative or story (‘in which an agent relates a narrative’[2]) provides a useful definition to work from. Given that the events themselves and the manner in which they are recounted are not entirely the same thing, for example ‘the man was killed’ can be viewed as a simple fabula narrated with little technique whereas ‘the wicked man was killed justly’ introduces a more complex narrative view which immediately begins to colour the events in a particular manner, a study of narrative technique can grant the reader a different and in some cases wholly new appreciation of the Aeneid. To begin with I should like to consider the aspect of ‘point of view’ known as focalization, whose eyes are we looking through at given moments in the text? The narrator of the Aeneid is Virgil but as Fowler quite rightly points out, Virgil “generally retains epic anonymity”[3] emerging from his narrator’s shell notably in the prologue of Book 1, 7.1 and 9.446-9. In effect Virgil presents the reader with a variety of focalizations as the world is seen through the eyes of Juno, Aeneas, Dido, and Turnus as well as many other lesser characters and it is important to note how on so many occasions Virgil allows the characters to express themselves individually and in full via the use of direct speech. In doing so he grants the character a narrative soapbox from which they can grind their own particular axe even if such direct speech serves to delay the narrative or has already been implied within the free indirect discourse of the poem. At the outset of the Aeneid Virgil as narrator speaks directly to the reader in the very first line arma virumque cano and then goes on to outline several of the key themes of the poem namely conderet urbem, the founding of a city that will eventually lead to Rome and the theme of problematic relationships between mortal and immortal, the poignant question tantaene animis caelestibus irae? Virgil then goes onto outline the reasons for Juno’s rage describing her in the third person and detailing to the reader Juno’s favouritism and fear for Carthage, her old enmity with the Trojans which has been carried over from the previous conflict and her wounded pride as a result of the judgement of Paris. It is after this listing of complaints on behalf of the goddess that Virgil steps back and allows Juno to recant her bitterness in person, which strictly speaking is unnecessary since the reader is already aware of her anger and her motives. Given that Virgil as narrator had a choice of reporting Juno’s words via indirect speech or indeed leaving this passage out entirely and advancing to her decision to go to Aeolus it can be assumed that a decision was made to allow Juno to speak for herself rather than be spoken for and there are a couple of possible reasons for this that immediately spring to mind. The first is a simple matter of dramatisation for it is a great deal more dramatic to have the goddess storming to herself than to mention it in passing, the second is concerned with the effect this use of direct speech has upon the narrative for it acts as a form of delay to the development of events and this is no isolated occasion, Fowler describes the scene of Remulus Numanus’ final, fatal speech in Book 9 as performing a similar role and regards the instance as less devoted to narrative proper but instead consisting of “comment, reflection or reaction.”[4] This reflective quality of direct speech acts within the narrative can be as Fowler suggests “ambiguous in its effect on the progress of the narrative”[5] however it is likely that such instances of delay or sidestepping from the narrative flow act as empathic points of focalisation. An effect felt rather strongly throughout the course of the Aeneid is that of individual tragedy set against national success and rather than composing an epic outlining a bloodless and utilitarian march forward Virgil maintains a strong consideration for the human cost of such success. Clearly Juno’s speech is not appropriate to talk about in this instance though even she, a goddess, will lose her favourite city of Carthage in Rome’s future rise to power and so could be classed as a victim of sorts of Roman success, she is nonetheless a victimiser rather than victim in the poem. Numanus however is no more than collateral in Rome’s realisation of its destiny and his speech, defiant, masculine and heroic is in effect the articulation of a man whose nature and character is becoming obsolete. In this instance Virgil allows Numanus free rein to insult the Trojans and vaunt his own rustic and hardy existence as superior to that which he regards as effeminate “o vere Phrygiae, neque enim Phryges”[6] and whilst Ascanius’ reply is Spartan to say the least he somewhat concedes the point by shooting Numanus through the head from afar rather than facing him in single-combat, Numanus’ insults are vindicated rather than refuted although it is with his death that his point is driven home. In this scene there is what could be termed a peculiar sense of resistance against the flow of the narrative, which can be glimpsed in the direct speech of Numanus he is in effect standing against the tide of history, a noble savage of sorts, but a victim nonetheless. It is this admittance of delay within the narrative whilst a single, doomed man gives vaunt to his bitter recriminations against those who will conquer his land which evokes a sense of individual tragedy and as stated previously this is consistent throughout the Aeneid. Fowler considered this shifting of focalization to be a case whereby “all those figures-the victims of history-whose viewpoints were suppressed by the epic norm are suddenly brought into the poem”[7], and there is indeed a sense that Conte’s notion that “there is diversity, every point of view is a centre of independent perception”[8] applies in this case.
This plurality of views, the sense that Virgil departs from the narrative to allow characters a chance at expressing themselves is in keeping with the idea postulated by Theodorakopoulos that “the Aeneid in particular struggles violently against the linear and seemingly inevitable progress of epic teleology”[9] that is, it fights long and hard against its own conclusion. These complementary ideas that diversions from the narrative serve both to give voice to the victims of history and to stave off the inevitable end of the poem can also be combined with the “death vignettes in which description and analepsis of the victims past life tends to predominate over narration of the actual killing.”[10] For instance the death of Galaesus is narrated in the most simplistic of terms, he is simply killed and then the reader is presented with an analeptic passage which considers his previously peaceful and fulfilling pastoral existence. Additionally the death of Lausus combines the narration of his killing with a brief moment of Analepsis as Aeneas drives his sword through the shirt that was woven by Lausus’ mother, killing his opponent. These brief delays as characters meet their, usually violent, deaths could be viewed as causing the narrative to drag it heels but its more constructive to see this as being the technique by which Virgil evokes a sense that people are being swept along by a tide of history and that the individual is subsumed within a fate ordained by a higher order or power, there is sadness, there is tragedy and so naturally there is resistance. This in itself sheds some light onto the abrupt ending of the poem for having been dragged kicking and screaming through to the end game of the plot, individuals who have resisted have been all but annihilated and it is with a final brutal act of violence that the conclusion is finally reached.
Narrative delay is not just to be found in instances of direct speech but in the use of ecphrasis also, a feature which more or less suspends the narrative entirely, Fowler notes that Simile is also used extensively to this effect. If delays within the narrative are part of a general sense of reluctance to advance forward (perhaps because so much has to be lost in order from Rome to come into being) then they can also comment or reflect on the immediate situation within the text for instance at the beginning of Book 6, Aeneas and his men come upon an engraving by Daedalus upon a gate in Cumae, which is then described in a moment of ecphrasis which serves to delay the course of the narrative. This delay in the narrative reflects upon the delay of Aeneas and his men who have nearly reached their journey’s end and so it acts to introduce a certain sense of suspense as well as construe the narrative duration so that it is in keeping with Aeneas’ own pause, the reader is very much being forced to tarry with the Trojans as they stand in awe of their surroundings. This passage does not just act to speed up or slow the narrative but in itself contains possible thematic elements which have a wider contextual meaning. For instance the focalisation upon Daedalus contains a possible allusion to Virgil himself, the artist as creator who is guiding his characters through the confusion of his own labyrinth and a mention of Crete as a land contra, facing the depiction of Athens refers back to Aeneas’ own attempt to settle upon that island. In a sense this pause is a moment of respite and looks back on the winding, tortuous route that Aeneas and his men have had to follow in their journey to Italy and yet it also looks forward to the confrontation that must now take place. Aeneas, like Theseus, has fulfilled the first part of his quest that is, he has completed his search and yet, like Theseus, this will precipitate the second stage, a violent confrontation with a monstrous opponent. Thus Virgil’s use of ecphrasis in this instance does not introduce a pause for pause sake but instead emphasises a moment of awed calm before the storm.
A consideration of the structure of the Aeneid is useful for attempting to ascertain what Virgil’s intentions may have been, of course there is no way of knowing for sure but instances of structural repetition, thematic interplay, redaction of elements of the Iliad and Odyssey and parallels between scenes within the poem may help the reader to form an informed opinion on what intentions Virgil may have had in writing the poem. A necessary fact to bear in mind in structural assessments of the Aeneid is that it is in Camp’s words “the first chapter of a much longer story”[11], the story of the founding of Rome continues past the death of Turnus, past the death of Aeneas himself and his son Ascanius and whilst the future history of the city and its empire is described in some detail in the three prophetic passages of Jupiter’s speech in Book 1, The Pageant of Heroes in Book 6 and the Shield of Aeneas in Book 8 all of these events are due to take place hundreds of years after the events described in the Aeneid. In effect this is an episode which mostly looks forward to the arrival of Rome upon the world scene and, importantly, this never takes place in the poem though we know it will in the future. As regards the structure of the poem as a whole it is likely that Camp’s suggestion that the Aeneid is “a chequer-work of episodes”[12] and that it followed in the footsteps of earlier works in that as a longer work “it was in essence a collection of short ones”[13] is more-or-less correct. Indeed it is possible to demarcate books of the poem, which act in a similar manner to modern chapters, into different sections of the poem, for instance one particular way of sectioning the poem into different stages would be to refer to 1-4 as the Odyssey-like wanderings of Aeneas and Carthaginian detour, 5-7 as the turning point of the poem as the Trojans reach Italy, and 8-12 as the Iliad-like description of all out warfare which concludes with Aeneas victory and (implied) settlement of Latium.
Working from Fowlers assertion that “an opposition between the plots of the Iliad and the Odyssey is undoubtedly basic to the story of the Aeneid”[14] the structural segmentation of the poem, that is the division between the Odyssey and the Iliad influenced sections by the intervening episode in which Aeneas reaches Italy and, as war breaks out, comes to Rome can be seen to generate some meaning for the poem as a whole. Given that the first third and final third are separated by the actual physical site of Rome it may be a valid point of view to say that Rome is the central focus point of the poem, indeed this is what Camps himself suggests regarding Books 5-9 in that “the idea of Rome as subject of the whole story is insistently presented to the readers mind.”[15] With Rome as the hub of the poem there could be some evidence of a ring style composition with narrative repetition either side of this central theme emphatically reinstating it. These elements of repetition can be glimpsed in the repeated motif of Venus asking a fellow Olympian for aid in Book 1 and in Book 8 Another notable parallel occurs between Book 5 and Book 9, in the characters of Nisus and Euryalus and their commitment to one another. In both instances it is Nisus who instinctively and unthinkingly acts on behalf of his friend Euryalus, in 5 to sabotage his opponent in the footrace and in 9 to throw himself at Volcens and certain death as Euryalus is taken captive and executed. As Mitchell-Boyask states “narrative repetition both advances the plot and returns it to its origins, or it is a return of some repressed material”[16] and it is not insensible to say that repetition especially when committed by an author as meticulous as Virgil provides some indication of intention. In line with the idea that Rome is never actually founded within the scope of the poem (at least in real time) it is worth considering the positioning of Rome at the centre of the poems structure and here I believe that Virgil makes use of a particularly poignant depiction of the Capitoline hill in the pastoral idyll that it the future site of Rome to drive home the idea that Roman and what she will become is the nucleus at the heart of the poem
‘hoc nemus, hunc’ inquit ‘frondoso vertice collem
(quis deus incertum est) habitat deus; Arcades ipsum
credunt se videsse Iovem, cum saepe nigrantem
aegida concuteret dextra nimbosque cieret.
‘This grove’ he said, “This hill with its crown of leaves is a god’s home,
whatever god he is. My Arcadians think they’ve seen
almighty Jove in person, often brandishing high
his black storm-shield in his strong right hand
as he drives the tempest on.[17]
The hill which will eventually become the Capitoline hill, the very heart of the Roman Empire is described by Virgil as a densely thicketed and wild place in which dwells a great and terrible power. Dwelling somewhere within its primal depths is Jupiter, a god equated with Roman power itself, biding his time and waiting until he can expand his authority from this small settlement to the very ends of the earth the much vaunted imperium sine fine. The sixth Book of the Aeneid, in a narratological sense, plays with the sense of time to the extent that the future and the past run in the same stream, Aeneas can see men who will live a thousand years after he himself has died and just as he can look forward to the Roman world of the future so too can the reader look back on him and his world. The central section of the poem is, in a sense the point of contact between past and present and serves as a two way portal. Just as Jupiter from his Capitoline seat of power will spread Roman power across the world, from this central theme in the Aeneid, Roman identity spreads throughout the imitations of both the Odyssey and the Iliad which sit on either side of it.
In summary, an appreciation of what narrative techniques Virgil utilises in the Aeneid can contribute a great deal to a reading of the poem but it is not necessary to apply such a view in order to understand and appreciate what is being said. Camps draws a pleasing analogy when he writes “the beauty of a human person is not best appreciated in an X-ray photograph”[18] and it is an astute point, we do not want to deconstruct the Aeneid until all we see are words but nonetheless a critical study of how we are made to feel what we do when we read the poem can be of great use in understanding how meaning is generated by form and structure. The idea that there are two voices[19] within the Aeneid or perhaps more is an important point in understanding how it is that Virgil constructs a literary world in which Roman power marches inevitably on and yet the human cost is always so prevalent in the reader’s mind. Examinations of structural and thematic elements can help to uncover the philosophical or ideological designs that ordered them in the first place and whilst these can be ‘felt’ in an uncritical reading of the poem such intentions, as chimerical as they may be, are sometimes more important to see and understand than have impressed upon oneself.
[1] Bal, pg 5
[2] Bal, pg 5
[3] Fowler, Virgilian Narrative, pg 259
[4] Fowler, Virgilian Narrative, pg 264
[5] Fowler, Virgilian Narrative, pg 264
[6] Virgil, IX, 617
[7] Fowler, Roman Constructions, pg 60
[8] Conte, Rhetoric of Imitation, pg 149
[9] Theodorakopoulos, pg 157
[10] Fowler, Virgilian Narrative, pg 263
[11] Camps, pg 51
[12] Camps, pg 57
[13] Camps, pg 51
[14] Fowler, Virgilian Narrative, pg 262
[15] Camps, pg 60
[16] Mitchell-Boyask, pg 291
[17] Virgil, VIII, 351-354
[18] Camps, pg 58
[19] Parry
Bibliography
Bal, Mieke. Introduction to the Theory of Narrative, University of Toronto Press, Toronto, 1985
Camps. W. A, An Introduction to Virgil’s Aeneid, Oxford, 1969
Conte, G.B, The Rhetoric of Imitation. Genre and Poetic Memory in Vergil and Other Latin Poets, Ithaca, 1989
Fowler. D, ‘Roman Constructions’, Oxford, 2000
Fowler. D, ‘Virgilian Narrative; Story-Telling’, Cambridge Companion to Virgil, Cambridge
Mitchell-Boyask. R. N, Sine Fine. Vergil’s Masterplot’ American Journal of Philology 117, 1993
Theodorakopoulos. E, ‘Closure. The Book of Virgil’, Cambridge Companion to Virgil, Cambridge
Virgil, Aeneid, Oxford Classical Texts, Oxford University Press, 1969
I stumbled across your blog by accident when trying to finish an assignment for uni that had not much to do with narratology(that assignment is next week) i found it really useful, so thanks for that !