Archive #2 - Because I Cannot Think of a Good Title...

Oh how she does allude me, that fickle  
beastly thing.  To have her is a dream, a gift,
to be cherished and held dear, yet in my
life, so rare.  She is not punctual, no,
making and breaking appointments like mad!
If only, just once, the kind Muse could come
approach my desk and delight me in
the sweetness of her presence!  The bliss of
an hour, two, with her alone, inspired, think!
What could be done with Time, that Muse so great?

Short Assignment 2

            In the style of the great spoken epics of old, The Aeneid uses plenty of repetition.  Epithets and phrases are repeated word for word, ideas and motifs echo throughout.  Some are typical to the genre, like similes and epithets, while others are unique to The Aeneid (the unbinding of women’s hair, the motif of fire).  One such example is the use of ekphrasis.  Ekphrasis is an epic figure of speech, in which one form of art is used to describe another, like a book describing a picture, or a picture describing a book.  It is likely the result of oral tradition, which depended on repetitive speech patterns to increase the ability of bards to memorize songs, as well as to make it easier for audiences to remember what has happened and who is who.  Ekphrasis increases the enjoyment of the audience by giving them rich visual descriptions, and in turn allowing them to appreciate the great beauty of art works even without being able to see the art themselves.  In The Aeneid, ekphrasis is used in two powerful ways, in describing the door to Juno’s temple that tells the story of the fall of Troy, and in describing the shield of Aeneas.

            The description of the door is rather short, starting on line 540 of book one, and continuing only to line 598.  It is at the beginning of Aeneas’ journey – Troy has only just fallen, and the Trojans have escaped the threat of death by storm to land on Carthage shores.  He really hasn’t been very far, in the story and in the broader historical sense, before he stumbles upon this temple.  The doors describe the fall of Troy – “/the fame of the Trojan War now known throughout the world/” (Bk. 1, 552).  To see these painful events so soon is cutting to Aeneas, and forces him to cry out, “/…is there anywhere, any place on earth/ not filled with our ordeals?.../…/even here, the world is a world of tears/and the burdens of morality touch the heart/” (Bk. 1, 555-559).  This is his history, bound in the unforgiving medium of bronze.  It illustrates an ending, but symbolizes a beginning. 

            The shield, in contrast, illustrates a beginning but symbolizes an ending.  The shield shows the future triumphs of Rome, but is given to Aeneas at such a time in the story that it is associated with an end.  The instance occurs at the very end of the eighth of twelve books, and just before the epic deciding battle.  However, Venus herself states, “/just forged to perfection by all my husband’s skill:/the gifts I promised!  There’s no need now, my son,/ to flinch from fighting swaggering Latin ranks/or challenging savage Turnus to a duel!/”, thus indicating that now it is the Trojans who have gods behind them, supporting their cause (Bk. 8, 721-724).  At this point, it is clear that though there will be hardship, the Trojans will be victorious and finally the Roman race can settle.  The description begins around line 720 and continues to line 859 – a considerably longer description.  Perhaps the difference in length is a hint at the historical significance of both events.  The fall of Troy is inconsequential when stacked against the greatness of the Roman Empire.  In the historical context, Virgil wrote The Aeneid as a propaganda piece for Caesar Augustus, the ruler of Rome at the time.  It makes sense that Virgil would spend a greater amount of time expounding the future victories of the Romans (where military glory is a community virtue) than focusing on the unfortunate circumstances that brought on the need to found Rome.  Within the story, it is an opportunity to show Aeneas that his toil will come to something, that all his efforts will be worth it due to the great nation that is to come.  It is fated this way. 

The examples of ekphrasis in The Aeneid bring up a comparison between history and fate.  In both cases, the events described were fated to be, and in the broader historical context, both sets of events were history.  How inevitable, then, is history?  Is fate?  In story, it seems both are inescapable – certainly in the epics, where actions are controlled by the whims of the gods.  It would be curious to compare the happenings of The Aeneid and The Odyssey with other epics where the gods (and therefore fate) play a lesser role.  Do such epics exist? Interference by gods is a trope of epic, but it seems the trope could be satisfied with god’s playing a lesser role.  In other genres, it seems the trope is that fate is escapable, that the characters have the ability to be whomever they desire.  Why did the omnipotent gods take a place of importance in these ancient epics, but not in more modern genres? 

History is a little more cut and dry – once something happens, it is truly inescapable.  That series of events occurred; nothing can be done to undo them.  However, how history is passed down could have an effect on “what happened”.  The phrase, “History is written by the victors,” is not without truth.  Those who have control over the oral tradition decide what is important to pass down and what can be swept away.  Consider the case of the treatment of Native Americans by the United States federal government.  The harsh, cruel, and unconstitutional actions of the government against Native Americans have been documented, but are still not taught to the population at large.  It has been deemed by the government (“the victors”) a piece of history we do not need to acknowledge, and as such that portion of history is falling away.  The government, for example, has yet to offer an official apology to the Native Americans, nor reimbursed their people for the land and goods effectively stolen from them as a result of the government ignoring treaties and agreements.  In The Aeneid, the fall of Troy, in all its glory, is entrenched in a bronze door.  The rise of Rome is embossed in a golden shield.  The story of the victors, told once again.  

Archive #1

His adviser’s words filled the air as the limousine pulled into the Capitol Building.  “You know they are going to be there today, hovering outside your office.  You know that they’re going to sing your praises and offer you fantastic deals.  But you have to resist them, Abe, you have to, because if you start taking orders from them, they will drag you down to their filthy depths.  It’s an election year.  If you’re to make it go back home to any sort of love or affection, you cannot, I repeat cannot, get stuck listening to these men.  Make sure that none of your aids, none of your scribes, nobody is paying attention to your guests, and tell your secretary to keep the door to your office locked up tight.  Let none of their oratory affect this bill passing.  Now, I will be back later to brief you on the best way to deal with Representative Scylla and Chary in session today.  Until then, good luck” 

The limousine slowed to a stop as Jason finished his script, as it had every morning for the nineteen years Abe had been on the hill.  Abe could see the vultures coming into work themselves, and looked warily back at Jason, “How many want to meet with me?” Jason replied coolly, “Just three, but oh yes, they are powerful.  Nothing your ears can’t block out though, Congressman” 

Pushing the door open and stepping out, leather-bound briefcase in hand, Abe stepped out and surveyed the scene.  Certainly, there were many perils on the way to a Congressman’s office, but the three he despised most of all were nowhere in sight.  Up the back stairwell, through a corridor, three right turns.  As he hurried down the final hallway, Abe could feel the stares coming from the walls, zealously decorated with portraiture of illustrious former Congressmen.  It gave him the creeps, like gods watching over him, changing his fate at their whim.  Closing the black oak door behind him was a relief.  Finally, the day was beginning.  At the end, session would be over, and he could set out for his homeland, Ithaca, NY.  What a glorious homecoming it would be, finally reunited with wife, son, and dog.

Surveying the crew, already at work in their ranks, Abe began to speak.  He thought it unfair that they should go into such a hectic day unaware of the threats at hand.  As he explained the dangerous expected visitors, a light breeze ruffled papers from an open window.  “The lobbyists are coming, guys.  We knew the day would come that we would have to face them.  I don’t want you paying them any mind, you hear?  We aren’t budging on this bill; it is what the people want.  Let them in to see me.  I owe them some of my time as is, but if I seem tempted, waste no time in reminding me of my commitments.  We cannot afford to let love of money or promises of future support cloud our vision and lead us, and this bill, to an early grave.”

The day wore onward, people coming and going, advocates and constituents slowly giving the Congressman a headache.  Abe poked his head into the main office, and all fell still.  Even the breeze froze.  The lobbyists knocked. “Stick your fingers in your ears guys, and keep me honest,” was all Abe managed to get out before the old black door swung wide and in stooped three lobbyists.  “Good morning, Representative Achaea, how do you do today?  We have a small matter of interest in a recent bill you are sponsoring in the Senate, and we’d love to cut a deal.   No one has refused us this one – each and every one of them has returned to the House for years to come.  We know you’re struggling with the voters at home…perhaps we can be of some assistance…” 

The longer the lobbyists spoke, the greater the tale they spun, and the softer Abe’s resolve became.  The bill was the will of the people, he knew, but the words of the men in his office sounded like music in his ears.  Money to campaign with, support in future bills…Abe looked for approval of the deal in the eyes of his aides, but got only hard looks of reproach.  Yuri, his secretary, saw the danger in proceeding, and hurried the meeting to a close, citing a campaign event, a revision session, a lunch break, anything and everything to remove these snakes from Abe’s ears.  Once the lobbyists had left, taking their smooth talk and viperous intentions with them, the harsh, abrasive faces relaxed.  “We made it through that one, guys.  Thanks for keeping me aboard…there was a minute there I almost jumped ship,” Abe droned wearily.  A look at the clock.  Scylla and Chary, so soon after such a tiresome meeting, he thought?  Indeed, it nearly was time for session to begin.  But survive this strait, and Ithaca, beautiful Ithaca, lies in wait.  The congressman, looking as old and tired as a man lost many years at sea, stood, organized his notes, and strode out into the stormy Senate floor.