BOOKTEXT12

FRIENDSHIP

INTRODUCTION

The two Odes within this group have been isolated from the many devoted to friends because one senses that more than mere friendship is implied and that deeper emotions, reciprocated or not, motivated Horace.

Ode II, 12, far from being the simple poem that many commentators assume it to be, can be seen to have a far deeper meaning. It is addressed, ostensibly, to Horace's patron, Maecenas, and concerns the poet's reluctance to write epic poetry on the theme of Caesar Augustus and his military exploits. African Numantia is mentioned specifically but the general feeling is that the poet is rejecting military vainglory wherever it might happen. Horace suggests that it is more properly the subject of narrative prose, not epic verse, and that Horace is not the man for either the subject matter or the manner in which it should be portrayed. At their most simplistic level, the meaning of the first three stanzas is simply a statement of fact, but what follows leads us to question this. Is Horace making a profound statement of moral, if not artistic, values? That the grim realities of existence are matters for factual statement rather than creative literature and that self–aggrandisement is no excuse for forcing art into uncompromising moulds?

In the next three stanzas Horace demonstrates, by means of a bewitching profile of Maecenas's wife, Terentia, the difference in values between art used properly and art completely bastardized. It is a pointed dig at Maecenas that his mind concentrates on false verities while the real values in his life lie unseen beneath his eyes. Horace finishes with a last stanza that has the ephemeral quality of envy for another's good fortune and, seemingly, an unstated passion for another man's wife. Encased in a tender, rather personal, observation of affection between a man and wife, lies a yawning abyss of emotion that obviously was never explored.

In the second Ode, Horace evokes awakening Spring as the beginning of the remorseless cycle of Nature which, compared to mankind's brief years, is endless. He passes on to man's occupation with approaching death as an end to all consciousness, of how time is so precious and its retention so impossible. He counsels that in our passage through life we should make the most of all things; what we leave becomes the province of our heirs. At the last he mentions the name Torquatus and one realises that this is a question of farewell, from one friend to another, and that all that has gone before in this Ode has been leading to this one moment. What has seemed to be an emotionless, objective appraisal of the grim facts of existence now become intensely poignant. Horace ends with a comparison to the classical myths, emphasising that the physical aspects of death and farewell are not the most important factor; it is that one friend proceeds into a veil where remembrance is no more, while the other is left with memories intact.

Interdum rapere occupat?

TERENTIA (LICYMNIA)

You may not wish the long wars of wild Numantia,

Nor unforgiving Hannibal, nor the Sicilian Sea

Purple with Carthaginian blood, to be adapted to

To the gentle measure of the lyre,

Nor Hylaeus and the Lapithae savage with too much

Unmixed wine and the taming, by Hercules, of the

Sons of the Earth, from which perilous situation

The glittering of ancient Saturn

Trembled violently: You will be better at telling

Narratives of the past Maecenas and, in simple prose,

Of Caesar's battles and hostile Kings having been led

By the neck along the highways.

For me the Muse is the sweet singing of Mistress

Licymnia, it has willed me to speak of brightly

Flashing eyes and honourably constant heart

Overflowing with mutual love,

To lift a foot with dancing girls loses her no grace

Nor to contest a joke nor to extend an arm in salute

To the glittering maidens, taking part on the day

Of renowned Diana's sacred rites.

You may not wish to exchange the hair of Licymnia's

Head for all that wealth which Archaemenes held

Or the Mygdonian riches of fertile Phrygia

Or the plenitude of Arabian homes,

As she bends aside the nape of the neck towards eager

Kisses or with mock severity deny them since she may

Rejoice more to have them stolen by him who embraces

Sometimes demanding to steal herself.

Vincula Pirithoo.

TORQUATUS

Already the foliage returns to the trees and the herbage

To the fields to disperse the snow;

The earth mutates the interchange and the decreasing rivers

Pass by between their banks;

The Grace with twin sisters and the Nymphs venture forth

To lead the dance unclothed.

The year and hour, which carries off the indulgent day, advises

You not to hope for immortality.

Winter's colds grow mild, the West Wind supplants Spring, about

To be lost to Summer, likewise

Fruit bearing Autumn pours forth its harvest and by and by

Hastens back inactive Winter.

Nevertheless, the swiftly changing moons repair the damage; but

We, when we have fallen to lie

Where virtuous Aeneas, whither rich Tullus and Ancus, are only

Dust and insubstantial shadow.

Who knows whether the Gods of the upper world may add tomorrow's

Time to the sum of today?

Everything which you dedicate to your friendly spirit will escape

The eager hand of the heir.

When once you have perished and Minos has made his illustrious

Judgement concerning you,

Torquatus, neither family nor eloquence from you, nor sense

Of duty will reinstate you;

For Diana may not release virtuous Hippolytus from the deathly

Darkness of the lower regions

Neither has Theseus strength enough to tear away the Lethean

Bonds of precious Pirithous.

ANALYSIS & COMMENTARY

ODES II, 12

This Ode is usually regarded as a recusatio in which Horace evades a request from Augustus, not to mention pressure from Maecenas, to write an epic Ode on the military glories of Rome under Augustus. He does this by concentrating on the grace of Maecenas's wife, Terentia, whom he calls Licymnia. 'The Ode is both artificial and overladen', Fraenkel suggests and, further, 'the poem as a whole will probably leave most readers cold ...' (Fraenkel, Horace, 219). Not, one ventures to suggest, if it is regarded with lateral thought. Having successfully labelled and categorized it with its Grecian origins, Fraenkel is happy to regard all reference to Licymnia as an appendage to the recusatio. Whatever the motives of Horace in writing this Ode, it undoubtedly conceals a de facto moral statement against the vainglories of war and the artificial values that man and society place upon them. To attribute to it the mere contrivance of a recusatio is to diminish not only the stature of the Ode itself but that of Horace also.

Horace commences with exactly that theme, Nolis longa ferae bella Numantiae nec durum Hannibalem ... purpureum sanguine mollibus aptari citharae modis 'You would not wish the sweet measures of the lyre to be adapted to the long standing wars of wild Numantia, nor unforgiving Hannibal or the Sicilian Sea purple with Carthaginian blood'. He continues the parable with reference to the mythical past, nec saevos Lapithas mero Hylaeum domitosque Herculea ... contremit domus Saturni veteris neither indeed, Hylaeus and the Lapiths, savage with too much unmixed wine, nor the taming, by Hercules' hand, of the sons of the Earth, whence the house of Saturn trembled violently'. Horace suggests, tongue in cheek, that Maecenas and his style of writing are better suited to the theme of war, tuque pedestribus dices historiis proelia Caesaris ... vias regum colla minacium 'better if you tell in prose, narratives of Caesar's battles, Maecenas, and the menacing kings led by their necks along the streets.'

The implication of these opening three stanzas is quite clear: war is a matter of history and politics, the proper subject of prose narrative. It is not the proper function of creative art to recreate sordid fact and glorify the darker side of man's nature. Neither is its function to eulogise the victor of a conflict. There is never a real victor; mankind itself is the only real loser.

Horace now concentrates on what should be the real issues for Maecenas, his good fortune in his home life. It is here that we may detect envy in Horace and undertones of passion for Terentia; passion that he could not address openly. Thus the recusatio becomes double–edged; under its shadow Horace is able to pour out his own feelings for another man's wife. Me dulcis dominae Musa Licymniae cantus, ... mutuis fidum pectus amoribus 'for me, the sweet singing of Mistress Licymnia, me, the Muse willed to speak of brightly flashing eyes and constant heart overflowing with mutual love.' Having tuned into the theme of Licymnia's gracefulness, Horace continues, quam nec ferre pedem dedecuit choris ... virginibus sacro Dianae celebris die 'for her to lift a foot with dancing girls loses her no grace, nor to contest a joke nor extend an arm to the glittering maidens that celebrate Diana's sacred day.' Horace addresses Maecenas directly, num tu quae tenuit dives Achaemenes ... permutare velis crine Licymniae, ... aut Arabum domos. 'You would not wish to exchange a hair of Licymnia for that which rich Achaemenes held or the Mygdonian wealth of fertile Phrygia or the overflowing plenty of Arabian houses.' In the final stanza Horace appears to indulge in what might seem to be a masochistic reflection of Maecenas's good fortune and his own envy. Cum flagrantia detorquet ad oscula cervicem ... interdum rapere occupet? 'When she turns away to allow eager kisses on the neck, or with mock severity, deny them, since she may rejoice to have them stolen from him who demands more, sometimes she may anticipate and snatch a kiss herself.'

This Ode is surely something more than a throwaway gesture by a poet unable, or unwilling, to carry out a commission. To damn it with faint praises, '... rich in delicate touches', '... a side issue of, a wholly heterogeneous theme', and similar (Fraenkel, Horace, 219), is to do it a massive injustice. The theme is quite homogeneous; a perfect whole in which Horace questions moral values, expresses distaste for the superficial gestures aimed at self–aggrandisement and concentrates the essence of the Ode into his own secret yearnings that cannot hope for fulfilment. Quinn observes 'his warmly passionate, elegantly–phrased depiction of himself ... as the poet in love ...'. Quinn further notes, 'Horace ironically deprecates his chosen form, though he can hardly have failed to hope that Maecenas would appreciate the new, serious use ...'. (Quinn, Horace The Odes, 220).

ODES IV, 7

This Ode, apparently pastoral in context, links the seasons of the year with man's own immortality; the ultimate irony being that Nature recovers, man does not. However, buried deep within this Ode, is a personal note. A certain Torquatus is addressed as though he will shortly be subject to this inevitable process and in the final stanza Horace laments with him that like Pirithous, friend of Theseus, once descended into Hades, Torquatus will drink from the River Lethe and forget Horace. This has the effect of turning this Ode from a pastoral elegy into a deeply felt poem of farewell. As such it is a testimonial to a close friendship. Whatever the context one might wish to attribute to such a friendship is immaterial; the Ode stands as a magnificent memorial to Torquatus.

Horace begins, imperceptibly, Diffugere nives, redeunt iam gramina campis arboribusque comae; ... flumina praetereunt. 'Already the foliage returns ... to disperse the snow.' Gratia Nymphis ... ducere nuda choros. immortalia ... monet ... rapit hora diem 'the Grace with Nymphs ... lead the dance naked. The year and the hour ... advises ... not to hope for immortality.' Frigora mitescunt zephyris, ver proterit aestas ... pomifer autumnus ... bruma recurrit iners 'Winter's cold gives way ... Summer replaces Spring ... fruitful Autumn bears forth ... inactive Winter returns.' Horace having pictured the inexorable cycle of nature, enters a comparative note on the human cycle: damna tamen celeres reparant caelestia lunae: nos ubi decidimus ... pulvis et umbra sumus 'The swiftly changing moons repair the damage ... but we, when we have fallen ... are but dust and shadows.' Emphasising the random nature of survival, Quis scit an adiciant hodiernae crastina summae tempora di superi? ... amico quae dederis animo 'Who knows whether the Gods of the upper world will add tomorrow to the sum of today? Everything thing that you dedicate to your own loving self shall escape the avaricious hands of your heir.'

In the last two stanzas, Horace relates all that has already gone before to what seems to have been an intense, personal relationship and the Ode reaches its climax of farewell. Cum semel occideris et de te splendida Minos fecerit arbitria, non, Torquate, genus, non te facunda, non te restituet pietas 'When once you have perished and Minos has pronounced his royal verdict concerning you, Torquatus, neither family, nor eloquence, nor sense of duty will reinstate you.' Horace ends with classical allusions, where Diana tries to bring Hippolytus back to life after his chariot fall and Theseus, descended into the underworld, fails to awaken Pirithous from his eternal sleep. Infernis neque enim tenebris Diana pudicum liberat Hippolytum, nec Lethaea valet Theseus abrumpere caro vincula Pirithoo 'for neither can Diana release virtuous Hippolytus from the unending darkness of the lower regions, nor has Theseus the strength to break the Lethean bonds of beloved Pirithous.'

Fraenkel insists on linking this Ode with the earlier Ode, I, 4 and while the two have a common theme, the earlier clearly lacks the intense motivation of the latter and certainly lacks the polish and the understated, but doubly powerful, imagery that accompanies it. Fraenkel, no doubt, is more comfortable if he can find a literary comparison but one finds it to be very strained in this instance. However, once freed from his compulsion to find literary parallels, Fraenkel has some very fine things to say about this Ode but tends to relegate Torquatus to the role of a 'let us now praise worthy men' insertion. He does not seem to regard him as being of any personal concern of Horace beyond a footnote and, alas, another comparison, 'The affectionate last two lines recall the end of iii. 4' (Fraenkel – Horace, 420 Note 3). Quinn also draws comparison with Ode I, 4, but is quick to point out the essential differences rather than the superficial similarities. He does, however, pick up the importance of the allusion of Theseus and Pirithous to Horace and Torquatus, '... Pirithous chained by the River of Forgetfulness; ... has forgotten his friend; Theseus still remembers' (Quinn, Horace the Odes, 313).