Virgil of Naples: Sannazaro's (meta)poetic succession

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Virgil of Naples

Sannazaro's (meta)poetic succession

R. A. E. Poelstra

Classics and Ancient Civilizations: Classics

Student number 10012354

University of Amsterdam

Thesis supervisor: David Rijser

Second reader: Michael C. J. Putnam

August 1

st

2014

Word count: 21 093

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Introduction

Jacopo Sannazaro (1458-1530) is one of the most well regarded poets of the Italian renaissance. His vernacular masterpiece, the Arcadia, is still read today, and has had a large influence on later

pastoral poetry.1 However, he was also a celebrated writer in Latin: due to his abilities in that language he was honored with the nickname 'Virgil of Naples'.2 He left a considerable Latin oeuvre, consisting of an epic, elegies, epigrams and eclogues. His most famous Latin poem is probably the epic on the birth of Christ, De Partu Virginis. It was while reading the latter that I began to suspect Sannazaro's nickname was more than an honorary title to assert his skill. Somewhat earlier, while following a seminar on intertextuality and reception in and of the classical tradition, I became acquainted with Philip Hardie's theory about the epic underworld as a location in which writers had the occasion to symbolically make statements about the place their work inhabits in its tradition.3 Hardie used the Tartarus in the Aeneid as a starting point, arguing that Virgil, through symbolism, presented himself as successor of Ennius, and he showed how epic writers later in the tradition could be seen to continue that practice in their underworlds.4 He doesn't mention Sannazaro, but after reading the part of his Christian epic that takes place in the underworld, I started to believe that Sannazaro discerned the same features of the Hades in the Aeneid as Hardie did almost five

centuries later. I also started to believe that Sannazaro, in that same symbolic way, positioned himself as the Christian successor to Virgil. Upon further research into the Virigilian case, I found out that the underworld wasn't the only scene in which these 'metapoetic' (or 'metaliterary') symbols were found by scholars. This led me to look at the rest of the De Partu Virginis in a new way, which brings me to the main question that I will attempt to answer in this thesis: can one read in

Sannazaro's De Partu Virginis the same metapoetic symbolism signifying poetic succession, as can be read in several scenes of Virgil's Aeneid?5

Virgil, I suspect, needs no introduction. His epic on Aeneas is often seen as the pinnacle of Latin poetry, and his other works, the Georgica, a didactic poem, and the Eclogae, pastoral poems, are almost equally celebrated. He wrote in the first century B.C., during the (budding) reign of emperor Augustus. Virgil's generic development, starting with 'low' pastoral and ending in high epic,

provided Sannazaro with an example for his own career.6 The Arcadia, the Eclogae Piscatoriae and the De Partu Virginis were the Italian poet's major works, the first two representing the pastoral genre, the latter the epic. After his death, collections of epigrams and elegies were published.

1

For works influenced by the Arcadia, see Hubbard (2001).

2_{Grant (1965) 153.}

3_{Hardie (1993) 103-5, Hardie (2014) 21-25.} 4_{Hardie (2014) 21-50.}

5

See for instance Hardie (1993), Kofler (2003), Goldschmidt (2013), Hardie (2014).

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Though Sannazaro was the protégé of Giovanni Pontano, head of the Accademia Pontaniana, his main influence is often identified as Virgil: certainly in his Latin poems 'the presence of the Roman author is to be felt on every page'.7

In order to research the metapoetic symbolism within the Aeneid and the De Partu Virginis, one must contemplate how it should be identified. In my opinion, we may speak of metapoeticality in instances where a text seems self-aware or self-referential, implicitly making statements about genre, tradition, or the creation of the text itself, and those statements are hidden beneath a more obvious narrative meaning of the text.8 It is in fact somewhat of a variant of the allegorical and typological interpretations that Thomas of Aquino defined (in relation to Old and New Testament), and that were current in the renaissance,9 but specifically focused on the nature of a text. Later on, allegorical interpretation was often considered invaluable, but with the rise to prominence of the theories of Gian Biaggio Conte and later Stephen Hinds, the study of metapoetics has become current in classical scholarship.10 In this thesis, I use the term 'metapoetic symbolism' when an element of the text can be interpreted to signify something else than it may seem at first glance, and, through that, appears to make statements about the text itself.11 My focus is on instances of such symbolism concerning poetic succession, that is to say, instances in which elements of the texts seem to symbolize the place of that text in the tradition and the way in which the author of the text succeeds his predecessors. I make abundant use of the term 'metapoetic', since it is useful to signify a certain category of symbolism, though I do not believe it should be considered a rigid label. It must be stated that, generally, metapoeticality should not be regarded as a goal per se, but as a by-product, existing besides the basic meaning of a text. However, the recognition of metapoetic symbolism, that is, instances in which the text seems self-referential, does add to the interpretation of certain scenes, without replacing or detracting from their more evident meaning. Through the recognition of metapoetical elements, an understanding of literature and its traditions is unearthed within a text. Moreover, there can be a programmatic significance to metapoetical interpretations, as implicit statements may be read about how the work should be perceived in relation to the tradition it is part of.

7_{Putnam (2009) xi.} 8

Heerink (2015) 24-7.

9_{For an overview of the development of allegorical practices in the renaissance, see Murrin (2010); for a treatment of}

allegories in Petrarch and in the English renaissance, see Greene (1982) 20, 94, 95, 105-6, 109-10, 127-28.

10_{See Conte (1986) and Hinds (1998).} 11

An illustrative modern example is how in the 2012 movie 21 Jump Street, which is a remake of the 1987 series of the same name, it is stated that the undercover program in which the protagonists enroll is a reboot of an undercover program from the eighties, covertly stating the identity of the film as a remake. Moreover, the actor who originally played the protagonist, Johnny Depp, has a small cameo in the 2012 film, as an older undercover agent who had begun his career in the previous undercover program from the eighties, clearly alluding to the fact that Depp's rise to success started with his role in the 1987 series.

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The instances of intertextuality and intertextual allusions treated in this thesis are generally previously discerned by scholars. When treating an allusion that I have found myself, I will cite both the alluding passage, and the passage to which is alluded, and clearly convey the structural or verbal similarities. I agree with Conte's disliking for mere collecting of loci similes, and I believe that often an allusion at a certain moment in the text can be significant for the meaning of that scene, also potentially in a metapoetic way.12

Intention of the author is impossible to assess, and always a difficult problem in studies such as this. However, Sannazaro lived in a period where allegorical thinking was common good, and in this thesis I examine his reception of Virgil, and what he may have read in the Aeneid. This means that the intention of Virgil himself is of little importance here, as I am looking for instances of symbolism that Sannazaro could have found and used. In the case of Sannazaro, authorial intention is still impossible to assess, but due to the time he lived in, there is a relatively great freedom to attempt to read 'behind the text'. Moreover, after examining the scenes from the De Partu Virginis where metapoetic symbolism may be present, I will try to substantiate any claims made with arguments and parallels.

A relatively large scholarly discourse exists with Sannazaro as its subject. Michael Putnam and Stefano Prandi have written indispensable commentaries on the text of the De Partu Virginis, and among others Thomas Greene and David Quint have written extensively on the Christian epic.13 However, no considerable attention has been given to potential metapoeticality in that work. Other works of Sannazaro have received that attention. For instance, Thomas Hubbard has intensely studied the poetic succession in the Arcadia, and Erik Fredericksen has discerned metapoetic moments in the Eclogae Piscatoriae.14

In the first chapter of this thesis, I take a close look at four scenes in Virgil's Aeneid that have attracted scholarly attention due to alleged instances of metapoetically symbolizing poetic

succession from Ennius and Homer to Virgil. I will look at the context of those scenes, and then I shall attempt to isolate conditions for and characteristics of such metapoetic symbolism. Then, in my second chapter, I will examine two scenes in the De Partu Virginis that had caught my attention earlier. I will describe the context of those scenes, and attempt to find out if they contain the same conditions and characteristics that I distilled from Virgil's scenes, which would make it likely that Sannazaro symbolized his poetic succession of Virgil. Then, to substantiate this hypothesis, I will look at instances of metapoeticality in another poem of Sannazaro that have attracted scholarly attention to, on the one hand, investigate Sannazaro's metapoetical awareness, and on the other, to compare those instances with those I discerned in the De Partu Virginis. Thereafter, I will attempt to

12_{Conte (1986) 23.} 13

Greene (1982), Quint (1983), Prandi (2001), Putnam (2009).

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answer the question mentioned above, whether or not poetic succession may be symbolized in some scenes of the De Partu Virginis.

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Chapter 1 Virgil

In this chapter, I will look at some scenes from Virgil's Aeneid, that can be read in a metapoetical fashion.15 These scenes can be interpreted in a way that appears to make statements about poetic succession in the epic tradition. Through intertextual allusions, Virgil may be read to implicitly express awareness of his place in the epic tradition. The metapoetical interpretations of these scenes do not replace previous interpretations, nor detract from them; they merely add to them.

After having given a general overview of the content and context of each scene, I will argue a metapoetical reading from existing interpretations as well as new ones. Then, I will compare the symbolism found in each of the passages, creating a sort of framework for scenes implicitly signifying poetic succession.

The dream of Hector and its context

The first section of the epic that has attracted scholarly attention for alleged metapoeticality, is Aeneas' dream of Hector, Aeneid II.268-297. This is part of the story that the protagonist tells queen Dido of Carthage, after the Trojans have been swept off course and landed on the African shores. Dido had asked Aeneas to tell her of his misadventures, and he recounts to her the sack of Troy. After describing how the Trojans, despite the warnings and death of Laocoon, accepted the wooden horse into their walls, and how the Greeks, after they left said horse, opened the gates to their comrades and started to raid the city, Aeneas tells of a dream he was having at that exact moment. This dream was about the recently deceased Hector, the most important Trojan hero mentioned in Homer's Iliad.16 In the dream, Hector appears to Aeneas, heavily wounded, and he entrusts him with the task of saving the holy objects of Troy and its city-gods ('sacra' and 'suos penatis') and founding a new city for them. In doing so, he appoints Aeneas as his successor, the next hero to be the

protector and guardian of Troy.

In his commentary on the second book, Austin noted the importance of this particular scene, mentioning its “deep dramatic tension and significance”.17 On the one hand, this significance is a result of the fact that this passage marks the first appearance of Aeneas in his own story, and on the other, its importance results from the fact that it is Hector, still brutally wounded, giving Aeneas the

15_{See among others: Hardie (1993), Hardie (1998), Hinds (1998), Kofler (2003), Goldschmidt (2013), Hardie (2014).} 16

Hardie (1993) 102, Austin (19733) 128.

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order that marks the very beginning of his quest, which will encompass the entire epic.18 The fact that Hector, such a noble and brave Trojan, gives Aeneas the order to leave Troy (or one might even say 'flee') can be explained as Virgil's way of letting Aeneas leave his burning Troy, without

instantly portraying him as a coward.19 However, I would like to argue that there is a second reason to cast Hector as the shade who instructs Aeneas: it creates a link between both Trojan heroes. Furthermore, several scholars, among whom one as early as Servius, have noted the resemblance this dream-sequence, in which a shade speaks to the figure who is at that point the primary narrator, has to the dream-sequence in the first book of the Annals of Ennius.20 In that scene, Ennius dreams that the shade of Homer appears to him, to tell him that his soul is reincarnated in the Roman epic poet. The overall similarity between both dreams is strengthened by instances of verbal allusions, among which:

Ennius Ann.I.321 Virgil Aen.II.270-122

Visus Homerus adesse poeta Hector / visus adesse mihi

“The poet Homer appeared to be present..” “Hector appeared to be present to me..”

Ennius Ann.I.423 Virgil Aen.II.271

Lacrimas effundere salsas Largosque effundere fletus “..to shed salt tears” “..to shed large tears”

Ennius Ann.I.524 Virgil Aen.II.274

Ei mihi, qualis erat.. Ei mihi, qualis erat..

“Woe is me, how he looked!” “Woe is me, how he looked!”

Other important aspects of Aeneas' dream of Hector are the fact that it is a dream, as well as Hector's prophetic words. Both these things place the scene outside of Aeneas' chronological narrative, and allow him to see further ahead than mortal eyes are able to. In this sense, the scene is

18_{Austin (1973}3_{), Jordan (2006}2_{) 48-9.} 19_{Austin (1973}3_{) 128.}

20_{Austin (1973}3_{) 128, Hardie (1993) 103, Goldschmidt (2013) 82; for Servius' (and Petrach's) knowledge of the Ennian}

source, see Hardie (1993) note 4.22; for the term 'primary narrator', see De Jong (2014) 19-20.

21_{Text as in Hunink (2011); translations are my own.} 22_{Text as in Austin (1973}3_).

23_{Text as in Goldschmidt (2013) 82; for reasons unclear to me, Hunink (2011) chooses not to adopt this verse, and in}

turn, Goldschmidt misses the verbal allusion in the Aeneid, marked by 'Ei mihi, qualis erat'.

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somewhat isolated from the rest of the story, which becomes even more evident when, upon waking, Aeneas seems to have forgotten both Hector's order and his prediction, and attempts to rescue Troy as it lay burning.25 Also, the beginning of the passage is clearly marked with 'tempus erat, quo..', 'it was that time, at which..' (Aen.II.268), and once more clearly separated from the main narrative by 'in somnis...', 'in his slumber...' (Aen.II.270).

The dream of Hector and its symbolism

This scene contains several elements that facilitate a metapoetic interpretation concerning epic succession. Hector tells Aeneas to flee from Troy, for it is a city of the past.26 Aeneas must look to the future, and erect a new city in a new land. This already imbues the scene with a basic sense of succession, which is a necessary condition for implicit representation of literary succession: the past instructing the future allows for the same connection between literary past and present.

The strongest argument to see a metaliterary layer, is the previously mentioned Ennian allusion. Ennius' dream in the beginning of his first book is a bold and explicit statement about poetic succession. Not only does the author place himself in the same tradition as Homer, he states that he is Homer reborn, thus replacing him as the epic source. Virgil avoided this heavily programmatic opening by starting in medias res, which, according to Horace, is the more elegant way to start an epic (the idea that Virgil was more subtle than Ennius was already developed during his time of writing), but by evoking this explicit poetic succession, the implicit awareness of the epic tradition and the author's place in it becomes more visible.27 As Hardie puts it, “in alluding to Ennius' claim to be the successor of Homer, the allusion enacts Virgil's own claim to be the modern successor of Ennius (as well as of Homer)”.28 That is to say, by alluding to explicit succession, Virgil is

positioning himself as the successor to Ennius, and thus (indirectly) as the successor of Homer, who had already been appropriated by Ennius. If we accept this hypothesis, that would mean that in Aeneas' dream, the figure of Hector stands for Homer and Ennius on a metaliterary level, and the figure of Aeneas for Virgil himself.29 Scholars have argued several instances in which the shadow of Virgil can be seen lurking behind his protagonist within the Aeneid.30 It is in fact in itself not an

25_{Jordan (2006}2_{) ix.} 26

For the idea of Virgil representing Troy as city of the past which has to be superseded, not refounded or equaled, see Morwood (1991).

27_{For Horace on the practice of poetry, and Ennius' 'crudeness' in relation to Horace's contemporaries, see Rudd (2002)}

19-37, 43-46; Quintilian also commented on this (Ins. 10.1.88): 'Ennium sicut sacros vetustate lucos adoremus, in quibus grandia et antiqua robora iam non tantam habent speciem quantam religionem.' 'let us adore Ennius for his antiquity as we do sacred woods, in which great and old trees do not yet have as much elegance as they do venerability'.

28_{Hardie (1993) 103.} 29

This does not negate the narrative meaning of the dream, as metapoetics should not be seen as a goal per se.

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uncommon notion, as many epic poets after Virgil appear to have continued this practice.31

Moreover, in pastoral poetry, it was fairly common, as many scholars have argued that for instance in Virgil's eclogues the figure Tityrus represents the poet himself.32 Besides, it has become a common practice to try to extract information about the poet from his work in later ages.33 It is therefore not unlikely that Sannazaro held these two characters to represent Ennius and Virgil. With this implicit poetic succession in mind, more may be read into the succession of one city by another: apart from providing Virgil with an excuse for letting Aeneas flee the scene, it seems significant that the one Trojan who, in Homer's Iliad, was the primary protector of Troy, hands over the holy items and city-gods to a new hero, who will be the protector of Troy's gods in this new epic, thus appointing him as his successor.34 The same gods are being transferred from a Trojan city to a proto-Roman city, as well as from a Greek epic to a Latin epic. Already in the Iliad, Hector

represents Troy, and in this epic, his successor Aeneas can be held to represent the idea of Rome:35 he is the proto-Roman, and the ancestor of all Romans. Due to the allusion to Ennius, poetic succession is evoked, and with that in mind, Troy (represented by Hector), as the old, Greek city, central to Homer's Iliad in which the penates resided, can be seen to represent that work. Virgil's epic is about building those penates a new city, Rome, which may then signify Virgil writing a new Latin epic, the Aeneid. The epic tradition naturally did not jump from Homer to Ennius and Virgil (the influence of the epic cycle, for instance, is hard to assess due to its fragmentary present state). However, due to the way Ennius explicitly attempted to appropriate Homer in his dream-sequence, and due to the strong connection between that sequence and this scene, that succession from Greek to Roman is evoked here.36

In this light, it becomes symbolic that Aeneas' travels take him from East to West, as this may be seen to mirror developments in the epic tradition. Through the allusion to Ennius' dream, it is implied that epic went from Homer to Virgil through Ennius, thus coming from Homeric Greece to Virgilian Rome.37

The fact that this scene does not seem to be a part of the main narrative is an aspect that facilitates this connectedness between past and future, and provides the author with an occasion for potentially metapoetical symbolism. Because this is a dream-sequence, it is placed outside of the narrative present, and it is allowed to make statements about past, present and future (it shares this feature

practices especially pages 28-42.

31_{See Hinds (1988), Masters (1992), Hardie (1993)105-116, Leigh (2010).} 32_{Coleman (1977) 176, Gould (1983) 54, Clausen (1994) 174.}

33

Lefkowitz (1981).

34_{For a short interpretation of poetic succession in Aeneas' dream of Hector, see Hardie (1993) 102 and Goldschmidt}

(2013) 82.

35_{“this is most evident with the Iliad: the reader knows (...) indeed that Hector is Troy,...” Rijser (2011) 8.} 36

Hardie (1993) 104.

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with scenes that take place in the underworld and ekphraseis).38

So, in very few words, this scene can be read to signify poetic succession of Homer and Ennius by Virgil, because there is an allusion to explicit epic succession and Romanization of Homer by Ennius. It is basically a scene of succession from one epic hero to another, and those epic heroes can both be seen to represent cities, and with that stages in the epic tradition. Also, the fact that this is a dream sequence places it outside of the narrative present, and allows it to make statements about past, present and future, a connectedness that is a condition for poetic succession.

The underworld and its context

Aeneas' so-called katabasis, his descent into the underworld (Aen.VI.268-901), has also been examined due to alleged instances of metapoeticality.39 In the sixth book, the Trojans arrive at Cumae, where Aeneas meets the sibyl, Deiphobe. Following a sacrifice to Apollo, the sibyl becomes possessed by the god, and predicts to Aeneas the many hardships his future holds for him. In

response, Aeneas asks for help to reach the Tartarus, to allow him to ask his deceased father Anchises for help. The sibyl agrees, and tells Aeneas that, to get into the underworld, he must collect a golden bough in the nearby forest. After the prophecy, Aeneas finds out upon his return to the beach, that the trumpeter Misenus has died. In order to construct a funeral pyre, Aeneas goes into the aforementioned woods to fell pine trees. While he is occupied with this task, he notices two doves, and justly interprets this as a signal of his mother, Venus. The two birds lead him to the golden branch, which he seizes (with some effort) and brings back to the sibyl.40

After this, Deiphobe leads Aeneas into the underworld. While the pair descends into the deep cave beneath the earth and cross the Acheron, Aeneas meets many deceased people that he once knew, among whom Dido and Palinurus. However, the scene that is most relevant to my research, begins when Aeneas finally meets the shade of his father in Elysium, the place where the pious souls end up. It is a very emotional encounter, after which Anchises once more takes upon him the role of advisor that he had previously fulfilled during his time among Aeneas and his fellow travelers.41 When Aeneas glimpses at the river Lethe, and notices all the souls surrounding it, Anchises explains to him that this is a river of forgetfulness, and the souls that drink from it are those whose fate it is to be reborn unto earth. After this follows a fairly technical explanation of the principle of

reincarnation. This, then, is followed by the famous procession of heroes: Anchises shows Aeneas

38

Hardie (2014) 21-25.

39_{The idea of katabasis originated in the Epic of Gilgamesj, and was afterwards a traditional part of many subsequent}

epics, most famously so in the Odyssee and the Aeneid. For further elaboration, see Hardie (2014) 1-49.

40_{Both the act of tree felling in the Aeneid, as well as the specific action of seizing the seemingly reluctant golden bough,}

have been interpreted to be of metapoetical significance, see Thomas (1988), Kofler (2003), and Poelstra (2014).

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all the great Romans of the future, culminating in the figure of Augustus, predicting a Golden Age of peace and prosperity (this evokes Virgil's own fourth ecloga, which will prove to be of large significance in the following chapters). The prophecy is tinged by sadness, as the old man also tells of the death of Marcellus, the intended successor of Augustus who died at the age of 19.

After all is said and done, Anchises leads Aeneas and Deiphobe to the exit. The exit is shaped in the form of two gates, one of horn, the other of ivory. They carry an unusual name: the Somni Portae, 'the gates of sleep' (Aen.VI.894). The fact that Aeneas and the sibyl exit through these gates, which also marks the end of the sixth book, points to another important feature of Virgil's Tartarus: like we saw earlier with Aeneas' dream of Hector, this episode is not part of the main narrative.42 The opening and close of the scene are both clearly marked: at the beginning, the duo has to

descend into a dark abyss, and at the end, they exit through the gate of sleep that I mentioned above. This feeling of narrative secludedness is enlarged by the fact that, as in his dream in book II, our hero doesn't seem to remember the prophecies and advice he received (although Hardie notes the possibility that this is merely for the plot, since a protagonist who is certain of his success is not a compelling figure).43 Other significant remarks about this scene include that, once more, Virgil appears to be evoking Ennius' dream of Homer.44 As Hardie puts it: “The tears and words of the shade of Anchises on seeing his son echo the tears and words of the shade of Homer adressing Ennius, and the first part of the speech of Anchises on the nature of the soul reworks Homer's Pythagorean account of the nature of the soul and the cycle of metempsychosis in Ennius”.45

The underworld and its symbolism

Several similarities arise between Aeneas' katabasis, in particular the speech of Anchises, and the dream-sequence we encountered in book I. For instance, when we look at what happens in this passage, a basic sense of succession is discernible. Before the death of Anchises, he often acted as an advisor to his son, and in that way as a fellow leader of the Trojans. Now that he is dead, Aeneas once more seeks his father to fulfill that role. In response, Anchises shows Aeneas the path he must take and the future he will bring about; he sends him along on his quest. It is the old generation sending the new generation on its path, the past instructing the present.

Another obvious instance of succession in this scene consists of the parade of heroes. It is in fact a continuation of the succession that is implied by having Anchises speak to Aeneas, for every great man mentioned in the parade, is a descendant from Aeneas. The heroes presented here aren’t all

42_{Hardie (2014) 21-24.} 43_{Hardie (2014) 21.} 44

Hardie (1993) 103-104, Kofler (2003) 65-94, Goldschmidt (2011) 82, 167, Hardie (2014) 24-25.

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members of the gens Julia, but many are and Augustus’ kinship with the rest of the great Romans, Aeneas in particular, is suggested.46 So, in effect, this parade creates an explicit connection between Anchises and Augustus, through Aeneas, Romulus and many more. It's not far-fetched, then, to assume that, on some level, Anchises represents ancient Troy, as Augustus stands for Rome. That means that, with Anchises' speech, a direct connection between Troy and the idea of Rome is created, as Virgil had previously done when he had Hector give Aeneas a speech while the latter was sleeping. Once more, this connection between past and present is made possible by lifting this scene from the main narrative. In fact, the entire katabasis fits the idea of a dream-sequence so well, that the exit consists of gates called the somni portae.

The parade of heroes has a second effect concerning connectedness: it can be seen as somewhat of a summary of the content of Ennius' Annals, as that epic should be strongly associated with the national Roman history described here.47 If we grant that it is possible to see the parade of heroes as a representation of the Annals as Hardie and Goldschmidt suggest, Ennius' epic is positioned as a condition for the founding of the new city, namely Rome. But the parade doesn't stop once Rome is founded, it looks on until he comes to Augustus, the 'new' Aeneas.48 Thus, this may be seen as a continuation of the work of Ennius: with the parade of heroes followed by a prediction of

flourishing Rome, a successful conclusion to the Annals is written.49 Due to this connection, Virgil is positioned as the successor of Ennius, and his epic as both a prequel and a sequel.

This succession is once more made more visible by the aforementioned allusion to Ennius' dream of Homer, which retains its value of explicit poetic succession. In fact, the resemblance between Ennius' dream-sequence and Aeneas' katabasis, which is somewhat of a faux dream itself, is more obvious due to the first half of Anchises' speech on the nature of the soul. Anchises' explanation is a reworking of Homer's metaphysical exposition on the nature of the soul in Ennius. This creates a strong association between Anchises and the figure of Homer in Ennius. As they are stated to be the same person through the process of metempsychosis, Virgil evokes both Ennius and Homer within Anchises. Anchises' prophecy stretches all the way to Virgil's own time (which causes the

aforementioned ‘sequel’), and he presents Aeneas with the task of creating that sequel. In this way, one might say that Anchises stands for 'father' Ennius (and by extension Homer), and he is handing over 'the epic baton' to Virgil, represented by Aeneas.50

So, in short, the layer of poetic succession in this scene is caused once more by a basic sense of

46_{Hardie (1993) 104.} 47

Goldschmidt (2013) 81-2.

48_{For links between Augustus and Aeneas, see among others Binder (1971), who focuses specifically on the eighth book,}

but whose theories about the shield of Aeneas are often applicable to the parade of heroes as well.

49_{Hardie (1993) 104, Goldschmidt (2013) 167.} 50

Hardie (2014) 25; for an entire chapter on the way Ennius is represented by Anchises, and Virgil by Aeneas, see Kofler (2003), 75-93.

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succession (this time parental), the connection between Troy and Rome and the stages in the epic tradition they represent, the ‘sequel’ to the contents of Ennius’ Annals, and, again, the allusion to Ennius’ dream. Also, the fact that these verses are once more an episode that does not seem to be part of the main narrative, and is, in fact, very dream-like, allows for it to make statements about past, present and future, which facilitates metaliterary symbolism concerning literary past and present. Another important remark about Virgil's treatment of the underworld is how he receives Homer, and how he changed the value of the underworld in the epic tradition.51 For, as Hardie argues, Virgil has created in his underworld a ' time-free repository for memory and tradition', which is a characteristic later epicists appear to maintain and embrace.52

The Tiber and its context

In the seventh book of the Aeneid, Virgil writes a second proem, marking the beginning of the martial, 'iliadic' half of his epic.53 However, before that, he describes how the Trojans reached and noticed the river Tiber (Aen.VII.25-36). In an excellent chapter, Nora Goldschmidt describes

convincingly how, on the one hand, this is a chronologically early placement of Aeneas and his men seeing the Tiber, unique to Virgil in the mythology surrounding Aeneas, and how it is, on the other, an evocation of Ennius.54 She argues that the Tiber and its landscape is highly self-conscious, 'acutely aware of its historical and literary residue'.55 She also says it is a metaliterary landscape, through a conscious play with Callimachean metapoetics that are associated with rivers and bodies of water. This is, however, not the passage that will be relevant for my comparative research in the latter half of this thesis, although I will review some of the metapoetic symbolism used in this scene to assert the relevance of the scene that I will be treating. The significant passage comes some verses later, in the eighth book, when Aeneas dreams of the river god of the Tiber, Tiberinus (Aen.VIII.26-67).

At the start of the eighth book, war is inevitably coming between the forces of Turnus and the Trojans, as Turnus forges a dangerous alliance with Diomedes. An anxious Aeneas tries to come up with a plan of action, and one night, a solution presents itself while he is sleeping. In his slumber, the river god of the Tiber speaks to him. In his speech, the Tiber predicts the founding of the city Alba Longa by Ascanius. On the future-site of that city, the riverbanks of the Tiber, Aeneas will find a white litter of piglets with a mother of the same color. By presenting his shores as the site of the city that is to be founded, the Tiber positions himself as a goal in Aeneas' quest. Then, he tells

51_{For a full explanation on the way Virgil uses and reworks Homer's nekyia, see Hardie (2014) 21-24.} 52_{Hardie (1993) 105-116, Hardie (2014) 21-25.}

53_{Williams (1977}2_{), Fordyce (1990}3_{), Goldschmidt (2013) 78.} 54

Goldschmidt (2013) 78-82.

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Aeneas that, to counter Turnus' alliance, he must go to king Evander for help in Pallanteum, the future site of Rome. Awoken, Aeneas proceeds to find the group of pigs, and sacrifices them to appease Juno.56

Aeneas' dream of Tiber is often perceived as a mere plot-device and a way to, as Williams puts it, 'reinforce the feeling of the divine intention, working behind human affairs'.57 However, as

Williams also noted, this eighth book corresponds with the second book, structure-wise, and some scholars have taken that as a cue to investigate links between this particular scene and the dream-sequence involving Hector that was treated earlier.58 That, in combination with the 'metaliterary landscape' that the Tiber evoked in book VII, warrants further inspection of the scene.

The Tiber and its symbolism

To understand why this dream-sequence can be seen to symbolize succession in the epic tradition, it is necessary to look at the aforementioned ekphrasis in book VII, where the Tiber is described. The passage goes as follows:

Aen.VII.25-3659

Iamque rubescebat radiis mare et aethere ab alto Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis, cum venti posuere omnisque repente resedit flatus et in lento luctantur marmore tonsae. Atque hic Aeneas ingentem ex aequore lucum prospicit. Hunc inter fluvio Tiberinus amoeno.

verticibus rapidis et multa flavus arena in mare prorumpit. Variae circumque supraque

adsuetae ripis volucres et fluminis alveo aethera mulcebant cantu lucoque volabant. flectere iter sociis terraeque advertere proras

imperat et laetus fluvio succedit opaco.

56_{For the role of sacrifices (potentially as a condition for the foundation of Rome) in Virgil's Aeneid, see among others}

Girard (1972), Bandera (1981), Hardie (1993), Smith (1999).

57_{Williams (1977}2_). 58

Williams (19772); Walde (2001), Goldschmidt (2013).

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And already the sea was reddening with rays of the sun, and Aurora shone yellow from the high heaven in her rosy carriage,

when the winds calmed and suddenly every breeze disappeared, and the oars wrestled upon the sluggish surface of the ocean.

Here, Aeneas saw from out at sea an immense forest. Through that, Tiber with its lovely flow streams in rapid eddies

and it storms unto the sea, golden in its abundance of sand.

Around and above it, many a bird, accustomed to the shores and the riverbed, sweetened the air with its song and flew about the forest.

<Aeneas> ordered his comrades to change course and to turn the prows toward land, and joyful he sailed upon the dark river.

This scene evokes Ennius for several reasons. I will attempt to give a brief summary of the allusive practices and the symbolism that have been discerned.60 First of all, there is in the first book of the Annals a prayer directed to the Tiber. According to some, it was Aeneas who uttered this prayer in Ennius' epic. Also, there is an uncommonly heavy usage of Ennian phrases in this passage: the description of the daybreak evokes Ennius' formulaic breaks of dawn, and the description of the sea uses many words that are associated with Ennius ('tonsae', 'marmor') as well as verbal allusions in the same metrical position ('repente resedit'). Also, the name Tiberinus is not once uttered by characters, but its epic precedent is in Ennius' Annals. The way the river falls unto the sea has been described in a similar fashion by Ennius, as well as the riverbanks. This apparent evocation of Ennius is then strengthened with what one might call Callimachean poetics. In the way the Tiber is described, Goldschmidt sees similarities with Callimachus' Hymn to Apollo, specifically lines 105-13. Those lines are as follows (hymn 2.105-13):61

“Envy spoke in secret to the ears of Apollo : ‘I do not admire the bard who does not sing as much as the sea’. And Apollo drove at Envy with his foot and spoke as follows : ‘Great is the stream of the Assyrian river, but it drags along on its water many offscourings of the land and a great amount of refuse. But the bees carry to Demeter water that comes not from every source, but [from] the thin stream which is pure and unsullied and wells up from the holy spring, the highest and choice.’ Greetings, Lord : as for Blame, may he go where Envy is'.”

Though there is much debate about these lines,62 several scholars see literary genres represented

60_{In this summary I borrow heavily from Goldschmidt (2013), which should be read to acquire a complete overview of}

the presence of Ennius in this description, and, to a lesser extent, from Williams (19772).

61

Translation as in Harrison (2007).

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by the different bodies of water mentioned,63 and interpret this passage as Callimachus' expression of his poetic ideals, preferring short lyric over long epic.64 The sea should be seen to represent the perfect source from which all poetry streams forth, and can be identified as Homer. The great Assyrian river attempts to equal the ocean, but with its size comes dirt. This has been interpreted as Callimachus' view on epic poetry after Homer, which carries imperfections with it due to its size. The tiny drops of water from the unsullied, thin stream should then be seen as lyric poetry, which may be most refined due to its small size.

In Virgil's ekphrasis, Goldschmidt discerns the same symbolism, associating large rivers with the epic tradition:65 “Eddying rivers carrying a lot of silt in their waters in Augustan and later poetry look back to a definition, or what was clearly interpreted as such, of Callimachean poetics as expressed in the famous riverpassage at the end of the Hymn to Apollo (…). This passage has therefore been interpreted as a deliberate engagement with Callimachean poetics. (…) It becomes almost a deliberate choice of an Ennian path when the Aeneid's hero sails up the river.”66 In other words, the description of a large river was wont to trigger generic associations with the epic tradition, and the combination of that with many allusions to Ennius may lead one to believe that the Tiber on some level should be seen to represent the Ennian epic tradition, upon which Aeneas joyfully sails.

When we accept the hypothesis that the Tiber, through allusion and Callimachean wordplay, has come to represent Ennius and his Annals on some level, it may be very significant that Aeneas has a dream in which that same river presents Aeneas, or rather his offspring, with the task of founding a city on its soil. It is as if Virgil states that Ennius is telling him to build on his soil, to erect an epic with his Annals as the foundation. This is, as Hardie would say, 'doubly Ennian', for it is attested that the ancient author himself deemed his work unfinished, and proceeded to write three more books to conclude the Annals.67 Of course, the fact that in book VII, the description of the Tiber evoked associations with Ennius, does not necessarily mean that these associations subsist into book VIII. However, there are more reasons to suspect literary transmission in this passage (which I will treat below), and then it seems significant that the senior present in this scene has evoked Ennius in the previous occurrence.

The poetic succession suggested within this scene is, as we've seen before, also made possible by the fact that this is a dream-sequence, thus lifted out of the main narrative: both the start and the end

63_{See for instance Williams (1978) 85-9, 98-9 and Harrison (2007) 1-2.} 64

The Aitia prologue of Callimachus presents those same ideals; see among others Nisetich (2001), Clauss (2004) and Harder (2011).

65_{For an elaboration on the way poets after Callimachus, among whom Catullus, Homer and Horace, take up the}

imagery of the sea as Homer, and different bodies of water as different literary genres, see Harrison (2007).

66

Goldschmidt (2013) 81-82; for a complete interpretation of this scene, see Goldschmidt (2013) 78-85.

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of the scene are explicitly marked, respectively with 'nox erat...' (Aen.VIII.24) and then 'nox Aenean (…) reliquit' (Aen.VIII.67). I would argue that the ring-composition, which is created by having nox arrive and then leave again, only strengthens the self-contained feel a dream-sequence naturally carries. Therefore, the occasion occurs to connect past, present and future once more, through the use of prophecy, and once more this prophecy is about the idea 'Rome' and delivered by a figure that may be seen to represent Ennius.

Another interesting feature of this dream is that it forms some sort of a structural unit with Aeneas' dream in the second book. That is the first dream-sequence, as this is the last.68 On the level of the text, there are more clues to add a similar sense of poetic succession to the interpretation of this final dream as we have done with the passage from the second book. It is for instance no

coincidence that, as did Hector, senior Tiberinus not only mentions that Aeneas is the one who is preserving Troy, but that he explicitly mentions the Penates who are to be given a new home:

Aen.VIII.36-3969

O sate gente deum, Troianam ex hostibus urbem qui revehis nobis aeternaque Pergama servas,

exspectate solo Laurenti arvisque Latinis,

hic tibi certa domus, certi, ne absiste, penates;

“Oh, you seed from the lineage of gods, who to us returns the Trojan city from the enemies and guards eternal Troy,

awaited by Laurentinian soil en the Latin fields,

Here for you a certain home, don't withhold, here certain penates.”

These lines are in a way the fulfillment of Hector's earlier prediction: the walls for the penates will arise on these banks, and Aeneas will have fulfilled his role as the guardian of Troy. The strong connection to the earlier scene of poetic succession strengthens the metapoetic symbolism that is caused by the ekphrasis in book VII, associating the Tiber with Ennius. Another effect this

connection has, is that the association with Ennius' dream of Homer in the first book of the Annals is never far from our minds, and this dream-sequence with an older figure (senior) in a scene of transmission with Aeneas, fits the bill.70 It is symbolically sound that Tiber-Ennius tells Aeneas to go to the site of future Rome, as Virgil frequently takes his epic to the Rome of his own time. In conclusion, this passage gains its implicit layer of poetic succession from the metapoetical link

68_{For an elaboration on the links between both dreams, see Walde (2001).} 69

Text as in Williams (19772); translation is my own.

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between the Tiber and Ennius and the scene of succession that follows. Once more we have a figure evoking Ennius, who delivers a prophecy about the foundation of Rome to Aeneas.71 The link between Troy and Rome also returns, and the strong connection between this dream-sequence and the dream of Hector gives the metapoetic symbolism more prominence. An effect which is only increased by the association with Ennius' prototypical scene of poetic transmission. Moreover, the self-contained feel of the episode which stems from it being a dream, allows the connectivity between past, present and future we have come to expect.

The shield of Aeneas and its context

The final Virgilian scene that is to be studied, is the extensive ekphrasis of the shield of Aeneas in the eighth book (Aen.VIII.625-731). After the explicit advice to do so from king Evander, an advice that is backed by a prophecy guaranteeing a positive outcome, Aeneas has gone to an Etruscan stronghold to persuade the Etruscans to join in the battle against, among others, their former ruler Mezentius. Having done so, Aeneas arrives at Agylla with the Etruscans, and his mother appears before him. Somewhat earlier she had asked Vulcan, her husband, to produce new weaponry for her son, which she has come to deliver at this moment. The weapons made by the smith of the gods are then described, and this description culminates in the shield.

Vulcan has engraved this shield with scenes that depict the future of Rome, which is not beyond his power, for he is ‘haud vatum ignarus’ (Aen.VIII.628). Virgil follows a chronological order in describing the images: he starts with the lupa, feeding Remus and Romulus. He then goes on to early Rome, and the rape of the Sabine women. He follows that up with the punishment of Mettus, and the attempted invasion by Porsenna, as well as the attempted invasion by the Gauls. Then he describes the Tartarus, which is of course not necessarily chronologically posterior to the

aforementioned events, but the damned one that is mentioned in this underworld is Catilline, who is part of a not so distant past for Virgil, which has the effect that the reader still seems to advance in time through the description of these images.72 This effect is made more evident by also mentioning Cato in his role of judge in the hades. The concluding part of the shield-ekphrasis tells the reader of the immediate past: the battle of Actium is described, thematically linked to Aeneas' battle at hand.73 Augustus is mentioned by name, and the whole battle is depicted as West conquering East.74 Virgil's particular choice of subject matter for this ekphrasis, which is the most significant

departure from his model, the description of the shield of Achilles in Il.XVII.369-616, has

71_{Kofler (2003), especially 63-74.}

72_{For a narratological analysis of the way ekphraseis proceed through time and space, see Koopman (2014), or,}

explained in more general terms, De Jong (2014) 120-122.

73

Williams (19772) 265-267.

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traditionally been interpreted as a way to show off specifically Roman virtues, as well as to create a consistent image of Rome vanquishing alien forces. Moreover, it has been said that these specific events were chosen due to their visual nature: they were very suitable to be depicted.75 Another feature of this scene that Williams already noted, namely that it bears thematic and structural resemblance to the parade of heroes, has caused more recent scholars to see a metaliterary layer, as we have previously seen with the parade of heroes.76 Another important remark to be made, is that from Servius on, people have seen echoes from Ennius in this description.77

The shield of Aeneas and its symbolism

Why is it that this scene may be read to make implicit statements about Virgil's succession of Ennius (and Homer)? Well, for one, this scene contains a prophetic story of succession. In a departure from the Iliad, Virgil fills this ekphrasis with scenes from the 'future', instead of the scenes from everyday-life one would expect due to the passage upon which this description is modeled. We, the readers, are introduced to the work of art through the eyes of Aeneas, the Trojan and proto-Roman, thus making Troy the starting point: as we make our way through the glorious deeds of the descendants of this Trojan, contemporary Rome is coming closer and closer. So, as we had in book VI, we have here the succession of Troy by Rome, explained in a chronological parade of great men. As I have mentioned above, this connectivity between Troy and Rome may be seen to mirror developments in the epic tradition.

However, the similarity between these two scenes carries more significance. This passage has often been read as a summary of Ennius' epic, as is the case with the parade of heroes. In fact, Goldschmidt argues it is 'a pendant to Anchises' speech, completing the gaps it had left with the heroes of early Rome, (...) similarly summative of Ennius' epic'.78 And just as in the underworld, Virgil looks beyond Ennius' epic, thus finishing it, positioning himself as a successor. This link between the two epics is strengthened with allusions: Servius already noted echoes of the Annals within the first event on the scene, the boys and the she-wolf.79 Hardie then makes the following clever remark:

“The scene of loving maternity may hint at Ennius' poetic paternity of Virgil, not Ennius' biological offspring any more than Romulus and Remus are the biological offspring of the she-wolf!”80

Even though I find this a somewhat bold statement, it must be said that writing a passage that may

75

Williams (19772) 265-266.

76_{Williams (1977}2_{) 265; Hardie (1993) 105, Goldschmidt (2013) 167.} 77_{Hardie (1993) 105, Penwill (2005) 40, Goldschmidt (2013) 167.} 78_{Goldschmidt (2013) 167.}

79

Hardie (1993) 105.

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be read as a 'sequel' to Ennius' epic, as well as alluding to him, within an ekphrasis that is prophetic and evokes the succession of Troy by Rome and the parade of heroes, is significant.81 This

significance becomes greater when we consider the set-up for this description. We almost see Vulcan creating the shield with his hands, and the description of (the creation of) a work of art within a text naturally presents the author with an occasion to make statements about the creation of his own work of art, thus making the text self-aware and self-referential.82 As a matter of fact, the phrase that I cited above, haud vatum ignarus (Aen.VIII.628), can be read as a sort of pun: the word vates has a double meaning. It can be both a prophet and a poet.83 The artist then, Vulcan, creating his narrative work of art, is not unaware of the vates Virgil, creating his own narrative work of art. Another feature that supports the symbolism, is once more the exclusion from the primary narrative. It is an externally proleptic ekphrasis preceding the long awaited battle, containing a narrative that is not part of the primary narrative of the epic. Due to it being so emphatically proleptic, there is once more this sense of connectivity between past, present and future, and, as such, between the epics of Homer, Ennius and Virgil.

As we have seen with many of the other passages that have been studied, the reason to read this portion of the epic with metapoeticality in mind consists of several elements. On the one hand, there is yet again simple succession. This succession is still parental in a way, where it concerns Aeneas' descendants, and it also signifies the succession from Troy to Rome. Moreover, a conclusion to the Annals is proposed and there are several allusions to that text, which suggests a conscious evocation. Also, the fact that the ekphrasis concerns the manufacturing of an artwork allows the text to easily be self-referential. This opportunity becomes even more clear when we take into consideration that this scene is not a part of the main narrative, and is able to create links between past, present and future without issues.

81

Hardie (1993) argues that there is also a scene which seems to allude to the conclusion of the Annals where Ennius’ patron Fulvius triumphs and a temple for Hercules and the muses is founded, namely the final scene on the shield which contains a triumphing princeps and a new temple for Apollo, both a poetic and military god.

82_{describing the creation of art in a poem often creates an opportunity for symbolism, see for instance Pavlok (2009) on}

Ovid's Metamorphoses.

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General remarks

Concluding this first chapter, some general remarks seem appropriate. By studying the scenes that

have been read to signify poetic transmission, I attempted to isolate the elements that cause this metapoeticality, to see what 'makes those scenes tick'. An element that all these passages share is an externally proleptic succession.84 In the basic sense, every scene marks one thing being succeeded by another. This basic succession is then given more meaning by either explicitly alluding to Ennius' dream of Homer, or evoking it implicitly. In any case, with the treated scenes, the

association is not an illogical one. Moreover, Troy and Rome are very suitable to represent Homeric Greek and Virgilian Roman epic. Continuously evoking the development between these cities has the effect that the epic tradition's development from Homer through Ennius to Virgil can easily be read into the text. Another feature that every passage has in common, is the exclusion from the main narrative. Be it a dream, a long ekphrasis, or a katabasis, all of the scenes are clearly lifted out of the main narrative. This, in combination with the proleptic nature of those scenes, allows for the past, present and future to come together, making them what Hardie called a 'time-free repository for memory and tradition' when discussing Virgil's underworld.85 What makes these scenes stand out, is the fact that, apart, they have been read in this metapoetical fashion, but when one studies them, it becomes clear that we are often dealing with scenes that form a structural unity, that are each other's pendants. This strengthens the extra layer they may have had on their own.

Some features that are not to be found in every scene, but add to the self-referring of specific scenes, are two more general characteristics of metapoeticality. Firstly, there is the allusion to Callimachean poetics, and the double meanings of rivers and water, Secondly, we have the creation of a piece of art by an artist, within a text. On top of that, both the parade of heroes and the shield of Aeneas on the one hand appropriate Ennius' words by summarizing them, and on the other hand position Virgil as his successor by providing those words with a successful conclusion that was found missing in Ennius' Annals.

84

For 'external prolepsis', see De Jong (2014) 80.

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Chapter 2 Sannazaro

As I mentioned in the introduction, while reading Jacopo Sannazaro's De Partu Virginis, I stumbled upon two scenes in which I suspect symbolism about the epic tradition and Sannazaro succeeding Virgil may be read, the same way as it may be read in the Virgilian passages that I treated above. In the previous chapter, I set out to understand why certain scenes may be read in this metapoetical way, and how one might recognize those scenes. In the passages I treated, I noticed several recurrent features and some characteristics that appeared once or twice. I will now look at the De Partu Virginis with these features and characteristics in mind as 'red flags', or clues for

metapoeticality, as it were. For it is not farfetched to think that a sharp reader of Virgil like

Sannazaro, who lived in the blooming period of allegories, recognized these clues as well, and used them in a similar way in his own Latin epic.86

The scenes I will be treating are the prophecy in the underworld in book I (DPV.I.225-462) and the prophecy of Proteus (in the river Jordan's direct speech) in the third book (DPV.III.331-497), in combination with a shepherd's song that precedes it in the same book (DPV.III.197-236). Even though I attempt to examine if these passages carry some symbolic meaning, I wish to stress that this metaliterary interpretation in no way replaces, or detracts from, other interpretations of these scenes.

The underworld and its context

In the second half of the first book, following Gabriel's visit to Mary (the annunciation, closely mirroring Mercury's visit to Aeneas), and the impregnation of the virgin by God, Sannazaro adds a scene to the traditional story of the virgin birth.87 In this scene, fama ('rumor') descends into the underworld to announce to the trapped souls of the pious from the Old Testament that Christ will come to save them, the so-called harrowing of hell. After Fama has passed Cerberus, she takes the readers to the riverbanks of the Lethe (the river of forgetfulness featured in Aen.VI). These are all decidedly classical elements, more so than one would expect in an epic on the birth of Christ.88 On these riverbanks, a certain senior is introduced: David, the messianic prophet from the old testament

86_{For an elaboration on allegories and the renaissance, see Murrin (2010).} 87_{For the annunciation mirroring Mercury and Aeneas, see Prandi (2001) 252.}

88_{Dante, in his Divina Comedia, filled his underworld with classical elements as well (for his treatment of the Lethe}

river, see Putnam (1995) 289, 292-93, 306-7. That vernacular epic, however, was not a rewriting of a text that was regarded as holy.

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and writer of psalms.89 David, as a vates, becomes inspired by God, and starts singing an externally proleptic prophecy on the birth and life of Christ.

The first words of his prophecy are 'Nascere, magne puer', 'be born, great child' (DPV.I.245). Both the imperative and the vocative imply that the addressee of this speech is the one it is about, although not corporally present, namely Christ. This is corroborated by the choice of personal pronouns further in the speech, for instance:90

DPV.I.249-25491

…, venturum si te mortalibus olim pectore veridico promissimus, igneus ut nos

viribus afflatos coelestibus ardor agebat insinuans, si sacra peregimus et tua late iussa per immensum fama vulgavimus orbem.

En ridet pax alma tibi:...

If we once promised with truth telling chest that You would come for the mortals, when fiery ardor,

while it found its way in, incited us, inspired with the powers of heaven, if we completed the rites and spread your commands far and wide

through the immense world by fame. Look, nourishing peace laughs for you:...

The consistent use of verbs in the first person plural might not merely be a case of poetic plural, as it may serve to stress David's identification as a prophet. A sixteenth-century commentary by Lázaro Cardona had already mentioned this. He paraphrases David's words as follows: 'si (…) promissimus, idest ego et alii prophetae promisserunt..','if we promised, that is to say, if I and the other prophets promised..'.92 'Nascere, magne puer' is also a verbal allusion to the fourth eclogue of Virgil.93 In Sannazaro's time, this eclogue was supposed to have predicted the birth of Christ, which is, fittingly enough, what David is doing in this text.94 After this, a prediction of the life and works of Christ follows. Its progress is similar to the way the shield-ekphrasis proceeded spatio-temporally,

89_{Putnam (2009) 389.}

90_{The continued use of pronouns in the second person singular is also a sign of the hymnic nature of this prophecy.} 91

All text cited from De Partu Virginis is as in Putnam (2009); all translations are my own.

92_{Cardona (1584) 40.} 93_{Putnam (2009) 390.}

94_{In Dante's Divina Comedia, Statius describes Virgil as the proto-Christian who carried enlightenment behind his back,}

see Purgatorio XXII; for further elaboration on later vision on Virgil and the fourth eclogue, see for instance Hardie (2014) 1-19.

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and its subject-matter is very visual as is the case with Aeneas' shield. Moreover, the events described all endeavor to show the virtues of Christ. The events named may be summarized in seven central events: firstly, the visit and offerings of the three kings are described, which asserts the importance of Christ and his birth. Next, we hear of Simeon who, having received the prophecy he wouldn't die before he saw the Lord, exhales for the last time after seeing the recently born Christ. This is a confirmation and assertion of the Godly nature of Christ. Thirdly, the massacre of the innocents is described, which was ordered by king Herod after a prophecy to prevent the true king of the Jews from taking his throne. This confirms Christ's rightful kingship and once more his overall importance. Then he is mentioned molding the minds of elders at the age of twelve, showing his wisdom and maturity. After this, we hear of the death of Christ (and in a subordinate clause of several miracles he performed), which reminds us of his self-sacrificial martyrdom, while, by mentioning the miracles, also reminding us of his might. The grieving reaction of his mother and Nature itself is then described, which naturally serves to illustrate once more the importance of Jesus. The seventh event described is the harrowing of hell, showing Christ's power transcends death or hell. At the end of his prophecy, after having given a brief ekphrasis which ends in the foundation of the people of Jerusalem, David arrives at the moment where he and the other good souls from the Old Testament may enter heaven, or, as he calls it, the 'Olympus'. He describes it as a city with walls, and presents it as the final consequence of Christ's birth.

Then, the scene is markedly ended, by taking the reader back into previously described regions of the underworld, while mentioning several additional obviously pagan elements, such as Sisyphus and, again, Cerberus. This creates a ring-composition of sorts with the first verses of the passage, where Fama's katabasis is a very marked beginning of the scene.

The underworld and its symbolism

An important reason for me to look more closely at this particular scene, is the fact that the piously Christian Sannazaro added this portion of the story to the usual events surrounding the birth of Christ. Of course, the harrowing of hell is a traditional part of the story, but Fama descending into the underworld, and this specific prophecy by David are not. The addition of scenes to a familiar story is often significant, and allows the author to put his own mark upon it.95 The addition of this specific scene becomes even more relevant when we consider the fact that we have here a very traditional katabasis: Fama actually descends into the underworld, passing Cerberus and reaching the Lethe, as did Aeneas and Deiphobe. In the underworld in the Aeneid, a lot of symbolism could be found, and as I cited above, Hardie has continuously argued for the lasting associations with the

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epic tradition and metapoetics the underworld has had through the ages.96 Sannazaro's addition of a katabasis is then, at the very least, suspect.

Another feature of this descent into the underworld enhances this suspicion, for the figure undertaking this journey to the nether realms, Fama, also carries with her metapoetic associations, from Virgil onward. In the fourth book of the Aeneid, Virgil has Fama enter the scene as a sort of monster, and he captures the complexity of that character, which according to Hardie's rumour and renown, revolves around the threefold meaning of 'fama': 'rumor', 'reputation', and, most important for metapoeticality, 'tradition'.97 In fact, Hardie has looked at the presence of Fama in De Partu Virginis: “Laird sees in Sannazaro's Fama a figure for the poet himself, who claims to tell the reader the Gospel truth, and who within the De partu is anticipated by the prophetic narrative of the

biblical poet David.”98 This hints at a specific role for David, which will be examined further. This means there now is an added scene, a katabasis, which traditionally carries associations of a metaliterary nature, undertaken by a figure carrying those same associations. One might say that we have here two red flags, warning us to keep poetic succession in mind.

Other features of this underworld that caught my eye, were the explicit classical elements that Sannazaro added to his underworld, such as the previously mentioned Cerberus, the Acheron, the Lethe, Erebus, Dis, Megaera, the Cocytus and Sisyphus. Now, classicism in an epic from the renaissance is of course not unusual, but in an epic on the birth of Christ , such decidedly pagan features might seem unbecoming. In fact, this clash between Christian and classical had already been noted when the De Partu Virginis was released. As Prandi describes in his commentary on the Proteus-episode, the famous Erasmus was anything but content with the way Sannazaro introduced classical elements in his otherwise pious epic: “Erasmo tuttavia, com'era facile prevedere, aveva nettamente dissentito da questa ardita contaminazione cristiano classica,..” (“Erasmus, however, as was easy to foresee, clearly disagreed with this bold Christian classical contamination,...”).99 So, in a striking way, Sannazaro turns the Christian hell into a Virgilian underworld. In the context of a Virgilian underworld it becomes significant that the vates who will deliver the prophecy, David (described only as senior), is to be found on the riverbanks of the Lethe, for this is exactly where we found (and left) senior Anchises in the Aeneid's Hades. Thus, a parallel between the two elders is created. In combination with the other classical elements, it seems we have here a strong evocation of Virgil’s underworld-scene. This feeling is enhanced by other similarities between both instances of the Tartarus, among others: the laws of time are suspended, which allows the events and stories within the underworld to range into the past and the future. There is an access to sources of 96_{Hardie (1993) 105-116, Hardie (2014) 21-25.} 97_{Clément-Tarantino (2007), Hardie (2009) 78-149.} 98 Hardie (2012) 416. 99_{Prandi (2001) 371.}

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knowledge unavailable to ordinary mortals, and what is seen in this other world is not primarily to the benefit of the characters within story, but mostly to that of the mortal readers.100 Also, as is the case in Virgil, a new golden age is promised, and the conclusion of the prophecy is a city,

representing an idea (the idea 'Rome' and the idea 'Heaven'). Also, peace is explicitly mentioned (pax alma, DPV.I.254). One might even argue that the same grieving undertone resulting from the death of Marcellus, is present here in the death of another young man, Jesus Christ, although there is too great a difference between both instances of grief to truly assert this. Other than David's location and aforementioned similarities, we have another reason to see Anchises evoked in this character. As Quint argues: “Christianity traces the lineage of Jesus back through the house of David”101, which means that we have here the same parental bond between prophet David and addressee Christ that we saw in Aeneid VI between Anchises and Aeneas. All in all, it is a neat echo. It truly becomes interesting when we remember the way one may see poetic transmission marked in that scene, and how Anchises and Aeneas can be seen to represent epic predecessor and successor. Since we have here a thorough evocation of the Virgilian scene and its characters, along with several 'red flags' for metapoetics, one may be tempted to see if this same transmission from

predecessor to successor can be read in this scene. In other words, if the transmission from Virgil to Sannazaro may be read into David's prophecy to Christ, which I suspect to be the case.

Before we may do that, it is necessary to look at the way Virgil was perceived in the time of Sannazaro (15th/16th century). While attempting to give an exhaustive overview of Virgil's

nachleben, Hardie mentions the way the author was seen as a prophet from late antiquity on, (and even as a sorcerer and necromancer).102 This view is still present in the renaissance. For instance, as I mentioned earlier, Dante describes Virgil as the proto-Christian who actually predicted

Christianity.103 The fourth eclogue is at the heart of this reputation: emperor Constantine was one of the first people to interpret this eclogue in a so-called Christological way, meaning he viewed it as a prediction of the birth of Christ (for the poem predicts the birth of a puer who will bring about a new Golden Age).104 It is attested that this same way of interpreting the lyrical poem was current in the renaissance, as Prandi mentions: “...anche il Ficino riprende l'interpretazione cristologica della quarta ecloga di Virgilio” (“Ficino also takes up the Christological interpretation of the fourth eclogue of Virgil”).105 Ficino chronologically only slightly precedes Sannazaro (he died in 1499). Now, why is this relevant when we get back to my suspicion about David representing Virgil in

100_{These characteristics of the Virgilian underworld are most comprehensively observed and described in Hardie (2014)}

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101

Quint (1983) 76.

102_{Hardie (2014) 1-19.} 103_{Purgatorio XXII.}

104_{For an elaboration on emperor Constantine's interpretation of the fourth eclogue, see among others Bolhuis (1950),}

Clausen (1994), and Hardie (2014).