Hannah Clargo Week 2
Write a commentary on the passage: Book 2, Lines 752-794
Horsfall claims that ‘Book 2 is the first extended epic/tragic sequence,
and the first large-scale narrative whole that he has attempted’ (Horsfall,
Virgil Aeneid 2: A Commentary, 2008, pg. xiii). Whilst this is true
generally, the peak of tragedy occurs in this passage at the dénouement
of the book as Aeneas realises the loss of his wife Creusa, before being
met by her ghost. This consequently creates a sense of liminality as
although the men have left Troy and are pursuing a new ‘Promised Land’,
Virgil describes Aeneas’ return into the falling city, retracing his steps as
an inversion of a heroic journey and return to the land he has been forced
to leave behind.
The passage begins with a description of Aeneas’ return through his
now-destroyed city, starting with significant emphasis on the darkness in
the use of vocabulary such as ‘obscuraque’, ‘dark’, and ‘per noctem’,
‘through the night’ (Aen. 2.752). Though this obscurity should allow for
the escape to become easier as the Trojans would be less visible, Virgil
creates a sense of irony as it has instead allowed for the easier loss of
Creusa, resulting in a greater difficulty for Aeneas to return and find her.
This irony is intensified in the repeated noun ‘vestigia’, ‘footsteps’ (Aen.
2.753). Whilst this was previously used as Aeneas ordered Creusa to
‘follow in my footsteps at a distance’ (Aen. 2.711), he now appears to be
relying on the same steps by which she was taken in an attempt to
recover her. Moreover, he further shows the struggle Aeneas faces in the
relative clause referring to the route ‘by which I had left the city’, ‘qua
gressum extuleram’ (Aen. 2.753). As such, Virgil reminds the readers that
Aeneas has already had to escape from the city once and creates an
element of foreboding as it is uncertain as to whether he will be able to do
so again.
Virgil then proceeds to provide a more distanced perspective, focusing
on the damage done and the enemy themself instead of Aeneas and his
own personal journey. Some critics such as Tiberius Claudius Donatus
believe this theme of destruction is introduced through ‘lumine’, often
poetically meaning ‘eye’ or ‘life’, as a metaphorical reference to the fires
still ablaze throughout the city (Donatus, Interpretationes Vergilianae,
C4thAD), though others such as Horsfall rebuke this idea. Nevertheless this
theme continues as Virgil draws a parallel between ‘horror’ and ‘Danai’,
‘the Greeks’ (Aen. 2.757): horror is ‘ubique’, ‘everywhere’, and the Greeks
are synonymously ‘omne’, proving that all-consuming terrors have
invaded Aeneas’ home as well as the whole city. Additionally, Virgil states
that ‘the silence itself is terrifying’, ‘ipsa silentia terrent’ (Aen. 2.755). This
idea has also been coined within Homer’s Iliad as discussed in Porphyry’s
Homeric Questions on the Iliad.
This is followed by a return to fire imagery. Virgil describes Aeneas’
arrival as flames begin ‘rolling to the top of the roof’, ‘ignis edax summa
ad fastigia… volvitur’ (Aen. 2.757), increasing pathos for the readers as he
is forced to watch not only the fall of Troy, but also of his own house. This
is similar to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in which the former,
having turned back to ensure his love is following, is forced to watch her
1
, Hannah Clargo Week 2
be snatched away from him back to the Underworld. There is also
significance in the phrase ‘ignis edax’, ‘consuming flames’ (Aen. 2.758),
popularised by Virgil but originally referenced in Homer’s Iliad as ‘πυρ
εσθιει’ (Il. 23.182), as it conjures a metaphor for the power of love as an
eternal flame. Thereby, the physical deterioration of his house reflects
that of his relationship with Creusa. Paratore also claims that the
alliteration of ‘vento / volvitur’, ‘rolled by the wind’, is intended as
onomatopoeia to incur the sound of flames, yet this is evidently not a
popular argument (Horsfall, 2008, pg. 527).
Virgil returns to a more extended view with a physical account of the
surrounding ‘palace of Priam’, ‘sedes Priami’ (Aen. 2.760), where Priam
himself died just moments before, as well as the ‘empty porticoes’,
‘porticibus vacuis’, where the king’s son, Polites, has also just died. These
portrayals are consequent reminders of Aeneas’ recent grief, also
demonstrating the heroism of his character as he dares to return to the
location of such trauma. The tone is then changed slightly from a scene of
despair and anguish to one of bitterness, as Virgil references ‘the shrine of
Juno’, ‘Junonis asylo’ (Aen. 2.761). This leaves a nasty residue as it
reminds the reader – and the internal characters listening to Aeneas’
recounts of these events – that Juno is the enemy of the Trojans, thus this
would be a fitting location for the Greek sanctuary. However, this shrine of
Juno is seemingly not referenced elsewhere, therefore causing question as
to whether this was truly an aspect of the story, or simply for poetic
effect. Additionally to these descriptors of physical elements within the
palace, Virgil explains that ‘children and frightened mothers stand around
in long lines’, ‘pueri et pavidae longo ordine matres stant circum’ (Aen.
2.766). This again creates pathos as it proves that the innocent are also
subject to violence. As Williams explains, boys are also seen to be sexually
abused within other famous instances such as in Sallust’s War with
Cataline, in which he describes the effects of the Macedonian War
(Williams, Roman Homosexuality, 1999, pg. 104-107).
A contrast is then created between this chaotic portrayal of a public
war and Aeneas’ intimate pleas for the return of his wife as ‘I called her
name ‘Creusa’ again and again, but in vain’, ‘Creusam / nequiquam
ingeminans iterumque iterumque vocavi’ (Aen. 2.770). Horsfall suggests
that this could be an echo of Virgil’s Georgics, in which ‘the voice alone,
the ice-cold tongue, with ebbing breath, cried out: ‘Eurydice, ah poor
Eurydice!’, ‘Eurydicen vox ipse et frigida lingua/ a! miseram Eurydicen...
vocabat’ (Georg. 4.525). As well as this apparent intention to invoke
similarities with this myth, Virgil makes use of the phrase ‘iterumque
iterumque’, ‘again and again, which is unseen among Classical prose, yet
a ‘generally epic pattern’ (Wills, Repetition in Latin Poetry: Figures of
Allusion, 1996, pg. 116) found within Ovid and other poets. Through this,
he is able to further enhance the tragedy of the narrative, allowing for
heightened emotion throughout. Virgil continues this with the following
semantic field of death and shadows: ‘umbra’, ‘shadow’; ‘simulacrum’,
‘ghost’; ‘imago’, ‘image’. Although Virgil has not explicitly announced
Creusa’s death, Horsfall states that her ‘disappearance from the realm of
2
Write a commentary on the passage: Book 2, Lines 752-794
Horsfall claims that ‘Book 2 is the first extended epic/tragic sequence,
and the first large-scale narrative whole that he has attempted’ (Horsfall,
Virgil Aeneid 2: A Commentary, 2008, pg. xiii). Whilst this is true
generally, the peak of tragedy occurs in this passage at the dénouement
of the book as Aeneas realises the loss of his wife Creusa, before being
met by her ghost. This consequently creates a sense of liminality as
although the men have left Troy and are pursuing a new ‘Promised Land’,
Virgil describes Aeneas’ return into the falling city, retracing his steps as
an inversion of a heroic journey and return to the land he has been forced
to leave behind.
The passage begins with a description of Aeneas’ return through his
now-destroyed city, starting with significant emphasis on the darkness in
the use of vocabulary such as ‘obscuraque’, ‘dark’, and ‘per noctem’,
‘through the night’ (Aen. 2.752). Though this obscurity should allow for
the escape to become easier as the Trojans would be less visible, Virgil
creates a sense of irony as it has instead allowed for the easier loss of
Creusa, resulting in a greater difficulty for Aeneas to return and find her.
This irony is intensified in the repeated noun ‘vestigia’, ‘footsteps’ (Aen.
2.753). Whilst this was previously used as Aeneas ordered Creusa to
‘follow in my footsteps at a distance’ (Aen. 2.711), he now appears to be
relying on the same steps by which she was taken in an attempt to
recover her. Moreover, he further shows the struggle Aeneas faces in the
relative clause referring to the route ‘by which I had left the city’, ‘qua
gressum extuleram’ (Aen. 2.753). As such, Virgil reminds the readers that
Aeneas has already had to escape from the city once and creates an
element of foreboding as it is uncertain as to whether he will be able to do
so again.
Virgil then proceeds to provide a more distanced perspective, focusing
on the damage done and the enemy themself instead of Aeneas and his
own personal journey. Some critics such as Tiberius Claudius Donatus
believe this theme of destruction is introduced through ‘lumine’, often
poetically meaning ‘eye’ or ‘life’, as a metaphorical reference to the fires
still ablaze throughout the city (Donatus, Interpretationes Vergilianae,
C4thAD), though others such as Horsfall rebuke this idea. Nevertheless this
theme continues as Virgil draws a parallel between ‘horror’ and ‘Danai’,
‘the Greeks’ (Aen. 2.757): horror is ‘ubique’, ‘everywhere’, and the Greeks
are synonymously ‘omne’, proving that all-consuming terrors have
invaded Aeneas’ home as well as the whole city. Additionally, Virgil states
that ‘the silence itself is terrifying’, ‘ipsa silentia terrent’ (Aen. 2.755). This
idea has also been coined within Homer’s Iliad as discussed in Porphyry’s
Homeric Questions on the Iliad.
This is followed by a return to fire imagery. Virgil describes Aeneas’
arrival as flames begin ‘rolling to the top of the roof’, ‘ignis edax summa
ad fastigia… volvitur’ (Aen. 2.757), increasing pathos for the readers as he
is forced to watch not only the fall of Troy, but also of his own house. This
is similar to the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, in which the former,
having turned back to ensure his love is following, is forced to watch her
1
, Hannah Clargo Week 2
be snatched away from him back to the Underworld. There is also
significance in the phrase ‘ignis edax’, ‘consuming flames’ (Aen. 2.758),
popularised by Virgil but originally referenced in Homer’s Iliad as ‘πυρ
εσθιει’ (Il. 23.182), as it conjures a metaphor for the power of love as an
eternal flame. Thereby, the physical deterioration of his house reflects
that of his relationship with Creusa. Paratore also claims that the
alliteration of ‘vento / volvitur’, ‘rolled by the wind’, is intended as
onomatopoeia to incur the sound of flames, yet this is evidently not a
popular argument (Horsfall, 2008, pg. 527).
Virgil returns to a more extended view with a physical account of the
surrounding ‘palace of Priam’, ‘sedes Priami’ (Aen. 2.760), where Priam
himself died just moments before, as well as the ‘empty porticoes’,
‘porticibus vacuis’, where the king’s son, Polites, has also just died. These
portrayals are consequent reminders of Aeneas’ recent grief, also
demonstrating the heroism of his character as he dares to return to the
location of such trauma. The tone is then changed slightly from a scene of
despair and anguish to one of bitterness, as Virgil references ‘the shrine of
Juno’, ‘Junonis asylo’ (Aen. 2.761). This leaves a nasty residue as it
reminds the reader – and the internal characters listening to Aeneas’
recounts of these events – that Juno is the enemy of the Trojans, thus this
would be a fitting location for the Greek sanctuary. However, this shrine of
Juno is seemingly not referenced elsewhere, therefore causing question as
to whether this was truly an aspect of the story, or simply for poetic
effect. Additionally to these descriptors of physical elements within the
palace, Virgil explains that ‘children and frightened mothers stand around
in long lines’, ‘pueri et pavidae longo ordine matres stant circum’ (Aen.
2.766). This again creates pathos as it proves that the innocent are also
subject to violence. As Williams explains, boys are also seen to be sexually
abused within other famous instances such as in Sallust’s War with
Cataline, in which he describes the effects of the Macedonian War
(Williams, Roman Homosexuality, 1999, pg. 104-107).
A contrast is then created between this chaotic portrayal of a public
war and Aeneas’ intimate pleas for the return of his wife as ‘I called her
name ‘Creusa’ again and again, but in vain’, ‘Creusam / nequiquam
ingeminans iterumque iterumque vocavi’ (Aen. 2.770). Horsfall suggests
that this could be an echo of Virgil’s Georgics, in which ‘the voice alone,
the ice-cold tongue, with ebbing breath, cried out: ‘Eurydice, ah poor
Eurydice!’, ‘Eurydicen vox ipse et frigida lingua/ a! miseram Eurydicen...
vocabat’ (Georg. 4.525). As well as this apparent intention to invoke
similarities with this myth, Virgil makes use of the phrase ‘iterumque
iterumque’, ‘again and again, which is unseen among Classical prose, yet
a ‘generally epic pattern’ (Wills, Repetition in Latin Poetry: Figures of
Allusion, 1996, pg. 116) found within Ovid and other poets. Through this,
he is able to further enhance the tragedy of the narrative, allowing for
heightened emotion throughout. Virgil continues this with the following
semantic field of death and shadows: ‘umbra’, ‘shadow’; ‘simulacrum’,
‘ghost’; ‘imago’, ‘image’. Although Virgil has not explicitly announced
Creusa’s death, Horsfall states that her ‘disappearance from the realm of
2
