Hannah Clargo
Is the end of the Aeneid so unsatisfactory that, as some critics maintain, it
must be another indication of the poem’s incomplete state? Why does the
ending pose problems of interpretation for the work as a whole?
Virgil’s Aeneid, being a highly complex narrative and modelled on
Homer’s epics which are similarly complicated, is largely seen to be
unsatisfactory in its ending due to the inevitability of at least one plot
point being viewed as displeasing or incomplete. Thus, it is important to
consider any elements of satisfaction and closure within the poem,
specifically in regard to the divine realm, the moral characterisation of
Aeneas, and the logical and political satisfaction incurred by the ending.
The first aspect of the Aeneid which could be deemed unsatisfactory
and incomplete in its ending is the divine realm. One instance which
points to this lack of closure is the scene in which Juturna appears to the
Rutulians, convincing them to break the treaty made with the Trojans and
consequently causing the single combat between Aeneas and Turnus to be
delayed further. Virgil describes how ‘she herself took over the reins and
whipped them up to make them ripple, the very image of Metiscus in
voice and form and armour’, ‘ipsa subit manibusque undantis flectit
habenas / cuncta gerens vocemque et corpus et arma Metisci (Aen.
12.471), proving the effect of the divine characters as she physically
changes her appearance in order for this manipulation of soldiers to
become more successful. This thereby allows for Turnus to remain alive for
longer, as if the treaty were to remain fulfilled and single combat were to
happen at this moment, he would have immediately died. If this were the
case, readers could either be less satisfied, as there would be less
suspense surrounding his death, or more pleased, as otherwise by the end
of Book 12 they could become disinterested due to waiting for such an
extended period of time. However, this scene is also necessary for
arousing empathy as Juturna seems to play the role of the lamenter within
Greek tragedy, resultingly showing a new characterisation of Turnus in a
familial environment rather than simply as a fighter. In this way, whilst this
scene could be infuriating in that it causes Turnus’ death, the peak of
action, to be prolonged yet again, it does help to guide the readers’
response to his final death towards compassion and sympathy for the
victim of fate.
Similarly, Virgil uses this method of delayed action as Jupiter is
depicted as weighing the fates of both Aeneas and Turnus on a pair of
scales: ‘Jupiter himself lifted up a pair of scales with the tongue centred
and put the lives of the two men in them to decide who would be
condemned in the ordeal of battle, and with whose weight death would
descend’, Iuppiter ipse duas aequato examine lances / sustinet et fata
imponit diversa duorum / quem damnet labor et quo vergat pondere
letum’ (Aen. 12.725). Though this scene is likewise not an ending in itself,
it foreshadows the inevitable death of either of the two characters,
proving that fate is undeniable. However, since Virgil does not directly say
which of the two is destined to die – although it may appear obvious to the
readers – there is still a sense of ambiguity and tension. Whilst this could
aid the final death in becoming more satisfactory as it has evidently been
1
, Hannah Clargo
long-expected, at this point there may simply be a desire to know the
outcome of the war, consequently creating a level of tedium and
monotony in the constant anticipation and lack of overt answers.
Virgil again uses the gods to create a sense of satisfaction, or lack
thereof, in the description of Juno’s withdrawal. At first this moment may
appear to conclude the divine plot, as it serves to end the theme of delay,
removing the involvement of the gods to allow the mortal ending to be
entirely the result of the choices the human characters may make. As
well, there is a solution to Juno’s anger about Troy: ‘Troy has fallen, allow it
to remain fallen along with its name’, ‘occidit, occideritque sinas cum
nomine Troia’ (Aen. 12.828). Still, there is no closure with regards to her
rage about Carthage. Not only is this fury unresolved, but it has also been
further incited by Dido’s death as ‘she spoke and while speaking fell upon
the sword’, ‘dixerat, atque illam media inter talia ferro / conlapsam’ (Aen.
4.663). Due to this, many scholars believe that this is not the end of her
anger and that she instead returns to gain revenge after the ending of the
poem. This idea is supported by her presentation in Ennian tradition, as
she is displayed as the antagonist in the Hannibalic War (Woodruff,
Reminiscences of Ennius in Silius Italicus). Therefore, if Virgil was inspired
by Ennius, as scholars often believe, this could be foreshadowing a
villainous return from Juno, implying that this is not her final interference
and creating a lack of closure or satisfaction. This ending additionally
seems unsatisfactory as despite the epic being established as a ktistic
poem, with Virgil stating in the beginning of Book 1 that this is a story of a
man who will ‘found his city and carry his gods into Latium’, ‘conderet
urbem / inferretque deos Latio’ (Aen. 1.5) and Juno here discussing the
nature of the future Roman race, this new race is never actually revealed.
As such, this lack of focus on Aeneas’ future kingdom could be highly
unsatisfactory, leaving the poem to appear incomplete as this foundation
is the underlying destination of the titular character’s journey.
As well as this sense of incompletion caused by the divine aspects in
the poem, the ending possesses an element of moral dissatisfaction. The
very final line of the epic entails a violent and revenge-driven act as ‘the
limbs of Turnus were dissolved in cold and his life left him with a groan,
fleeing in anger down to the shades’, ‘ast illi solvuntur frigore membra /
vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras’ (Aen. 12.952). This
translation is almost directly comparable to the death of Hector within
Homer’s Iliad: ‘life left his limbs and took wing for the house of Hades,
bewailing its lot and the youth and manhood it had left behind’, ‘ψυχη δ’
έκ ρεθεων πταμενη Άιδος δε βεβηκει / όν ποτμον γοοωσα λιπουσ’
άνδροτητα και ήβην’ (Il. 22.362). However, whilst Virgil’s Aeneid ends on
this death, the Iliad continues to discuss the consequences of its parallel
scene as the burial of Hector becomes a key focus throughout these final
books, aiding in the moral disintegration of Achilles’ character due to his
disrespectful acts following the murder. Contrastingly, the burial of Turnus
remains undisclosed, causing uncertainty as to whether or not this would
actually occur. This however does still have an element of moral
dissatisfaction, as if Aeneas does not conform to the traditionally accepted
burial rites, his character would not fulfil the bounds of ideal ‘Romanness’
2
Is the end of the Aeneid so unsatisfactory that, as some critics maintain, it
must be another indication of the poem’s incomplete state? Why does the
ending pose problems of interpretation for the work as a whole?
Virgil’s Aeneid, being a highly complex narrative and modelled on
Homer’s epics which are similarly complicated, is largely seen to be
unsatisfactory in its ending due to the inevitability of at least one plot
point being viewed as displeasing or incomplete. Thus, it is important to
consider any elements of satisfaction and closure within the poem,
specifically in regard to the divine realm, the moral characterisation of
Aeneas, and the logical and political satisfaction incurred by the ending.
The first aspect of the Aeneid which could be deemed unsatisfactory
and incomplete in its ending is the divine realm. One instance which
points to this lack of closure is the scene in which Juturna appears to the
Rutulians, convincing them to break the treaty made with the Trojans and
consequently causing the single combat between Aeneas and Turnus to be
delayed further. Virgil describes how ‘she herself took over the reins and
whipped them up to make them ripple, the very image of Metiscus in
voice and form and armour’, ‘ipsa subit manibusque undantis flectit
habenas / cuncta gerens vocemque et corpus et arma Metisci (Aen.
12.471), proving the effect of the divine characters as she physically
changes her appearance in order for this manipulation of soldiers to
become more successful. This thereby allows for Turnus to remain alive for
longer, as if the treaty were to remain fulfilled and single combat were to
happen at this moment, he would have immediately died. If this were the
case, readers could either be less satisfied, as there would be less
suspense surrounding his death, or more pleased, as otherwise by the end
of Book 12 they could become disinterested due to waiting for such an
extended period of time. However, this scene is also necessary for
arousing empathy as Juturna seems to play the role of the lamenter within
Greek tragedy, resultingly showing a new characterisation of Turnus in a
familial environment rather than simply as a fighter. In this way, whilst this
scene could be infuriating in that it causes Turnus’ death, the peak of
action, to be prolonged yet again, it does help to guide the readers’
response to his final death towards compassion and sympathy for the
victim of fate.
Similarly, Virgil uses this method of delayed action as Jupiter is
depicted as weighing the fates of both Aeneas and Turnus on a pair of
scales: ‘Jupiter himself lifted up a pair of scales with the tongue centred
and put the lives of the two men in them to decide who would be
condemned in the ordeal of battle, and with whose weight death would
descend’, Iuppiter ipse duas aequato examine lances / sustinet et fata
imponit diversa duorum / quem damnet labor et quo vergat pondere
letum’ (Aen. 12.725). Though this scene is likewise not an ending in itself,
it foreshadows the inevitable death of either of the two characters,
proving that fate is undeniable. However, since Virgil does not directly say
which of the two is destined to die – although it may appear obvious to the
readers – there is still a sense of ambiguity and tension. Whilst this could
aid the final death in becoming more satisfactory as it has evidently been
1
, Hannah Clargo
long-expected, at this point there may simply be a desire to know the
outcome of the war, consequently creating a level of tedium and
monotony in the constant anticipation and lack of overt answers.
Virgil again uses the gods to create a sense of satisfaction, or lack
thereof, in the description of Juno’s withdrawal. At first this moment may
appear to conclude the divine plot, as it serves to end the theme of delay,
removing the involvement of the gods to allow the mortal ending to be
entirely the result of the choices the human characters may make. As
well, there is a solution to Juno’s anger about Troy: ‘Troy has fallen, allow it
to remain fallen along with its name’, ‘occidit, occideritque sinas cum
nomine Troia’ (Aen. 12.828). Still, there is no closure with regards to her
rage about Carthage. Not only is this fury unresolved, but it has also been
further incited by Dido’s death as ‘she spoke and while speaking fell upon
the sword’, ‘dixerat, atque illam media inter talia ferro / conlapsam’ (Aen.
4.663). Due to this, many scholars believe that this is not the end of her
anger and that she instead returns to gain revenge after the ending of the
poem. This idea is supported by her presentation in Ennian tradition, as
she is displayed as the antagonist in the Hannibalic War (Woodruff,
Reminiscences of Ennius in Silius Italicus). Therefore, if Virgil was inspired
by Ennius, as scholars often believe, this could be foreshadowing a
villainous return from Juno, implying that this is not her final interference
and creating a lack of closure or satisfaction. This ending additionally
seems unsatisfactory as despite the epic being established as a ktistic
poem, with Virgil stating in the beginning of Book 1 that this is a story of a
man who will ‘found his city and carry his gods into Latium’, ‘conderet
urbem / inferretque deos Latio’ (Aen. 1.5) and Juno here discussing the
nature of the future Roman race, this new race is never actually revealed.
As such, this lack of focus on Aeneas’ future kingdom could be highly
unsatisfactory, leaving the poem to appear incomplete as this foundation
is the underlying destination of the titular character’s journey.
As well as this sense of incompletion caused by the divine aspects in
the poem, the ending possesses an element of moral dissatisfaction. The
very final line of the epic entails a violent and revenge-driven act as ‘the
limbs of Turnus were dissolved in cold and his life left him with a groan,
fleeing in anger down to the shades’, ‘ast illi solvuntur frigore membra /
vitaque cum gemitu fugit indignata sub umbras’ (Aen. 12.952). This
translation is almost directly comparable to the death of Hector within
Homer’s Iliad: ‘life left his limbs and took wing for the house of Hades,
bewailing its lot and the youth and manhood it had left behind’, ‘ψυχη δ’
έκ ρεθεων πταμενη Άιδος δε βεβηκει / όν ποτμον γοοωσα λιπουσ’
άνδροτητα και ήβην’ (Il. 22.362). However, whilst Virgil’s Aeneid ends on
this death, the Iliad continues to discuss the consequences of its parallel
scene as the burial of Hector becomes a key focus throughout these final
books, aiding in the moral disintegration of Achilles’ character due to his
disrespectful acts following the murder. Contrastingly, the burial of Turnus
remains undisclosed, causing uncertainty as to whether or not this would
actually occur. This however does still have an element of moral
dissatisfaction, as if Aeneas does not conform to the traditionally accepted
burial rites, his character would not fulfil the bounds of ideal ‘Romanness’
2
