(1993: 27)
1. The satirist clears his throat and begins. The scholiast claims the first line is a quotation from Lucilius. There is no confirmation and several commentators have noted parallels to Lucretius 2.14 and other passages from De Rerum Natura. Many, therefore, suspect a conflation between two similar names on the part of the scholiast. The parallels with the Lucretian subtext are indisputable. If Lucilius lurks behind the great Epicurean poet as well, in the very first line we would have a fusion of this collection’s twin concerns, satire and philosophy. Although, as Kissel (1990) remarks, it seems odd that a committed Stoic would begin with a line from an Epicurean poet. At minimum, Persius’s opening cri de coeur comes trailing clouds of intellectual glory. There are parallel texts that can be cited for almost every line of this poem. It is beyond the scope of this commentary to examine all of them. The best discussions are Hooley (1997) and Bramble (1974).
2–3. The interlocutor immediately breaks in. A short dialogue ensues. Min = mihi + ne.
Hercule = “By Hercules,” a common interjection.
Nemo: compare Horace 1.4.22–3.
3–5. “I don’t care if they prefer the worst doggerel to my verse. It’s trivial.” Polydamas = a character in the Iliad who on several occasions gives Hector advice that he ignores at his peril. In one of the climactic scenes of the poem (22.99–101), Hector decides he must fight Achilles because he cannot face the chiding he would receive from Polydamas who had advised that all retreat within the safety of the city walls (18.254).
Troiades: “the daughters of Troy.” The shift to the feminine after the heroic reference is deflating. In addition to speaking of Rome’s, and satire’s in particular, misogynistic tendencies (see Juvenal 6), the term lampoons the pretensions of the Roman patriciate to Trojan ancestry.
Labeonem: identified by the scholiast as Attius Labeo, the author of a very poor translation of the Iliad.
Nugae = a common self-deprecatory word for neoteric verse. See Horace 1.9.2. Does Persius refer to public opinion or his own poetry?
5–7. “Rome counts this as lightweight, you do not need to correct the scale.”
Non stands for ne and is taken with accedas.
Elevet < elevo, –are: either “to elevate,” as in Labeo, or metaphorically “to make light of,” as in Persius. The introduction of the metaphor of the scale (trutina) in the next clause makes the latter the dominant sense, in spite of the scholiast’s gloss to the contrary. Nonetheless, the real sense is that we should be above whatever the crowd praises or blames and so both senses are operative.
Examen = “the tongue of the scale.”
Nec te quaesiveris extra: Stoic self-reliance is the rule. Te may be either the direct object of the verb, the object of the postpositive extra, or both.
8–11. “For who at Rome does not …? If it can be said.” We have to wait till line 121 for the question to be completed, but we are given a strong hint at line 59. The exact sense of the next lines is debated. They are exceedingly dense. On one level, Persius says “why can’t I say what I mean to say (sed fas tum), since (cum) we’re all adults (ad canitiem) and should know better?” On another, the burden of the satire is that Rome is filled with anything but serious old gray-beards of proverbial wisdom and gravitas, and that all those adopting such a stance (witness Polydamas, line 4 or the Titos of line 20), are in fact morally and aesthetically bankrupt. “Our old age is not that of a wise uncle, but of a worn-out reprobate” (Bramble 1974: 71). Most of the complications in these lines unfold in the tension between these poles.
Ad canitiem et nostrum istud vivere triste / aspexi = “I have seen that we live with white hair and that this life of ours is harsh.” The question is why has our hair turned white and for what reason is our life “harsh.” As subsequent lines make clear, it is not because of primeval poverty or the self-imposed discipline of a wise maturity. Canities can refer to premature old age, as all the commentators remind us. But as Bo notes (1967), we should not dismiss the scholiast’s suggestion that Persius believes it is fas to say that all Rome has asses’ ears (line 121) because he has looked to (aspexi) the sober seriousness of the old poets, in relation to whom the present age represents such a marked decline (and hence premature canities).
Nucibus … relictis: in the traditional obscene Fescinnine verses that accompany the Roman marriage ceremony, the bridegroom is called upon to leave behind the childish delights of his slave-boy, sexual playmate and the boy is commanded to “give nuts.” This is a sign of putting aside childish things and assuming manhood proper. See Catullus 61.124–9.
Sapimus patruos: this clause has two related senses. Patrui, paternal uncles, were figures of proverbial austerity and moral rectitude. Sapimus patruos here means first: “we taste or smell of austere old uncles.” This meaning derives from the basic sense of sapio + the accusative, to “taste of something.” The second meaning is a metaphorical intransitive use, derived from the transitive use just discussed. Here patruos must be taken as an accusative of respect: “we are wise like our austere old uncles.” The etymological relation between sapio and sapientia becomes paramount here.
11–12. “Forgive, what else can I do but laugh?” i.e., in the face of such absurdity, I must write satire. Nolo = “I can’t help myself.”
Quid faciam: compare Horace 2.1.24.
Splene: Pliny tells us the spleen is the seat of laughter.
Cachinno = “to guffaw, to cackle.”
13–43. This section portrays the perversion of literary taste in Rome.
13–14. Grandiloquence is the rule in verse (numeros) and prose (pede liber).
Inclusi: “shut away in our studies.”
Pulmo … praelargus = “a preternaturally large lung.” The grotesque transformation of the breath of poetic recitation into a giant lung reduces the literary product to little more than phlegm that needs to be expelled in the guise of art to be savored.
Anhelet < anhelo, –are: “to puff, pant, roar.”
15–25. We go directly to a scene of poetic recitation envisioned as a species of sexual penetration. The penetrating party here is ironically a degraded and effeminized poetry that lacks the rough solidity that Persius and Roman ideology prizes. This kind of poetry is traditionally embodied within the Roman universe of genres by the soft verse of elegy, which stands in opposition to masculine satire. The penetrated party is Rome’s cultural élite attending a recitation.
The shifting images that characterize this scene offer a tour of the Roman satirical grotesque in all its sexual and alimentary dimensions. There is the dandified poet whose pallor (albus) is a sign of excessive sexual passion (Bramble 1974: 72–5). The emphasis on the throat (guttur), its moisture, and rippling quality (liquido cum plasmate … mobile), puts the reader in mind of the reciter’s affected speech and prepares the audience for the combined images of perversion and gourmandise (escas) yet to come. The throat is not only the site of poetic articulation and potential gluttony but also of the passive sexuality implicit in the poet’s demeanor. This reading is strengthened by the description of the poet as both effeminate (fractus) and possessed of an “orgasmic” eye (patranti … ocello), whose quivering adds yet another level of fluidity that threatens to undermine the dry, solid virtues of the masculinist, Roman norm (Bramble 1974: 76–7; Lee and Barr 1987; see Horace 1.5.84). The poetry itself becomes the instrument by which the audience’s loins are probed (carmina lumbum / intrant), unmanning even the most burly of old-time Romans (ingentis … Titos), as they are metonymically penetrated by the poet’s throat (i.e., his quavering organ of poetic articulation). This creates a bizarre image of oral/genital, or oral/anal, contact in which both parties are passive—since the action moves from one open orifice to the other—an impossible sexual monstrosity in Roman ideology (Bramble 1974: 78–9; Lee and Barr 1987; Parker 1997). This last image is metamorphosed into an evocation of poetry as a kind of food for the ears in which the image of penetration is transformed into one of passive c
onsumption, but with the emphasis once again on the use of an inappropriate orifice. On line 22’s auriculis as pun on auri-culis, see Bramble (1974: 95).
The final image of fermentation and sterility that we see in the wild fig (caprificus), which by definition bears no fruit, bursting forth from the frustrated poet’s guts (rupto iecore exierit), sums up the sterile perversity of the poetic exercise. At the same time, the phallic thrust of the fig tree from the poet’s liver (iecur), the seat of passion, implies a destructive and empty eroticism. “The connotations of the caprificus must be derived from the membrum virile” (Bramble 1974: 90–3; although Adams 1982: 113–24 notes that the ficus itself generally represents the site of anal penetration).
16–18. Natalicia … sardonyche = a birthday ring of sardonyx.
Plasmate < plasma, –tis: the term is debated. Some see it as a gargle, but Quintilian makes clear it is a warbling to warm up the voice that he considers effeminate (1.8.2).
Fractus = “broken,” and hence “powerless” or “impotent.” Quintilian, in a passage on corrupting music, uses fractus as a gloss on the adjective effeminatus (1.10.31). See Bramble (1974: 76–7).
19–21. Scalpuntur < scalpo, scalpere, scalpsi, scalptum: “to scrape, scratch, tickle.”
22–3. Tun = tu + ne. Vetule = diminutive of vetus: “my little old man” or “old boy.” Diminutives are often effeminizing. The allusion to age recalls ad canitiem in line 9.
Quibus: the antecedent = escas.
Articulis … et … cute perditus: “gone with the gout and dropsy,” as a result of over-indulgence in food and drink. Bramble (1974: 146–8) offers an alternative reading of cute perditus, meaning “with ruined prepuce” as a result of presumed sexual excess. The possibility of both readings should be maintained since the use of the word escas has already introduced a conflation between the sexual and the gustatory in describing the reciter’s effeminizing excesses.
Dicas … “ohe”: “you would say, ‘enough!’” The reprobate can dish it out but he can’t take it anymore, worn out as he is with vice.
24–5. These lines may be attributed either to the reciter or to Persius’s initial interlocutor who reappears at line 28. These are not clearly delineated voices and on one level of reading, this poem is an internal dialogue. Indeed, Persius in line 44 admits the interlocutor to be a generic fiction.
Didicisse < disco, discere, didici: “to learn.”
Caprificus: the wild fig was proverbial for its power to sprout in rocks, cliffs, and cracks of buildings.
26–43. This section deals in a less concentrated way with the uses and abuses of poetic fame in contemporary Rome.
26–7. Pallor = another common sign of sexual excess, but also of poetic study. On senium, see canitiem (line 9) and vetule (line 22).
Scire tuum = nominative use of the infinitive with est, versus te scire hoc where the infinitive is the object of sciat in indirect discourse.
28–30. Dicier = archaic form of diceri.
Ten = te + ne.
Cirratorum < cirratum, –i: “the curly-haired,” i.e., schoolboys. This clause is a direct echo of Horace 1.10.74–5.
Pendes: the metaphor of weighing recalls lines 6–7.
30–1. Ecce inter pocula …: “What a fine state we’ve reached! The well-stuffed (saturi) sons of Romulus discuss divine poems when they’re in their cups.” The pun on satura should not be missed.
Dia poemata = the subject of narrent.
32–5: Here every lisper is crowned a poet. Hic aliquis = subject of eliquat < eliquo, –are: “to flow smoothly.”
Hyacinthina laena = “a hyacinth-colored cloak”; the obvious affectation should be noted.
Balba de nare: “with a nasal lisp.” Contrast Lucilius’s emunctae naris at Horace 1.4.8. See also lines 40–1 and 118. Lisping in Ovid and Martial is associated with effeminacy.
Phyllidas: Phyllis, fearing that Demophon had deserted her, hanged herself and was changed into an almond tree. Hypsipylas: Jason abandoned Hypsipyle of Lemnos after she bore him two children. Both myths represent common sentimental topics in elegy and Hellenistic poetry. The nouns are generic plurals: “Phyllises” and “Hypsipyles.”
Tenero subplantat verba palato: a deliberate swallowing of the articulation to affect a smoother style of reading.
36–40. The vanity of insubstantial poetic fame is brought home by this sarcastic Stoic memento mori. Adsensere = perfect.
Cippus = “gravestone.”
Manibus < manes, –ium: “shades, remains.”
Violae = “violets,” as in our phrase “pushing up daisies.”
40–3. The interlocutor returns. “Laugh if you like, but you seek poetic immortality as well.” Uncis naribus: compare Horace 1.6.1–6 on Maecenas, non … naso suspendis adunco ignotos. See also lines 33 and 118.
Os meruisse populi = “to have earned the people’s praise.”
Cedro digna … carmina: the image of poems worthy of being preserved in cedar oil comes from Horace’s Ars Poetica 330–2. As Hooley observes (1997:44), Persius’s putting this quotation into the interlocutor’s mouth denotes a state of corruption of taste wherein Horace’s classicism is no longer a sufficient antidote to the prevailing decadence. Something more astringent is needed. It is supplied in the next line nec scombros metuentia carmina nec tus: the image of poems becoming wrappers for mackerels (scombros) is from Catullus 95. The conflation of Horatian sermo merus with rough Catullan wit forms a nice synecdoche for Persius’s stylistic program. Tus = “incense”
44–62. “I do not fear fame, but that’s not why I write. I respect sound judgment not cheap applause.”
44–7. Quem ex adverso dicere feci: a wonderful send-up of the fiction of the interlocutor.
Fibra = “heart.”
48–51. Recti = substantive.
‘Euge’ = Greek for “well done.” ‘Belle’ = its Latin synonym. These were common ejaculations during poetic readings.
Excute: “shake out,” like a cloth.
Ilias Atti: see lines 4–5.
Veratro < veratrum, –i: “white hellebore,” a purgative, sometimes taken as a cure for madness. Here, the pairing with ebria emphasizes the drug’s primary effect: the production of vomit and stool.
51–4. “Don’t dyspeptic nobles (crudi … proceres) dictate little elegies (elegdia) [as a cure]? Is anything not written on [luxurious] couches of citron wood (lectis … citreis)?” Crudus when used of food refers to that which is not digested and thus continues the imagery implicit in veratrum. Poetry is depicted as the pastime of the vulgar rich who are applauded by their poor clients who offer their praise in return for none-too-expensive handouts. Compare Horace, Ars Poetica 422–5 and the image of Lucilius dictating 200 lines before and after dinner at Satires 1.10.60–1.
Ponere = “to serve.”
Sumen = “sow’s udder,” considered a delicacy.
Horridulum: the diminutive adds pathos to the image of the poor client shivering in anticipation of a worn-out cloak (trita … lacerna). The sadism of the patronus here is worthy of Juvenal. Donare = “to present” someone (accusative) with something (ablative).
Amo = “please,” more frequently amabo.
56–7. The poor client may not be able to speak the truth, but Persius can. Qui pote: understand est verum dicere.
Nugaris < nugor, –ari: “to babble.” See line 5.
Aqualiculus = “a water vessel,” used metaphorically for the “belly.”
Sesquipede = “a foot and a half.”
58–62. Janus alone has no one mocking him from behind. Janus was the Roman god of passages and transitions; he was always portrayed as facing both forward and backward simultaneously. There is no verb in this sentence. Assume something like es felix.
Ciconia < ciconia, –ae: “stork,” a derisive hand gesture in which the fingers and thumb are used to imitate the opening and closing of the bill.
Pinsit < pinso, –ere, –i, pinsum or pistum: “to pound,” hence “mock,” to
be understood with all three gestures.
Auriculas … albas: “asses’ ears,” in anticipation of line 121, made by holding both hands next to the head and waving them. The scholiast informs us that they are white by synecdoche for their interiors.
Imitari mobilis = “quick to imitate.”
Canis Apula: Apulia was proverbial for its heat and dryness.
Vos, o patricius sanguis …: a recollection and parody of Horace’s call on his fellow Romans to reject shoddy poetic craftsmanship, vos, o Pompilius sanguis … (Ars Poetica 291–4). See Hooley (1997: 48–9).
Occipiti < occiput, –itis: “back of the head,” ob/caput.
Sannae = “grimace,” dative with occurite.
63–90. But has our poetry not achieved the very smoothness and polish which Horace himself demanded?
63–8. The interlocutor resumes. Quis populi sermo est? “What do the people say?”
Ut per leve severos / effundat iunctura unguis = “so that the joint passes lightly beneath the strictest thumbnail.” See Horace 1.5.32, but more importantly Ars Poetica 292–4, carmen reprehendite quod … praesectum decies non castigavit ad unguem [“blame the poem which the well-cut nail has not corrected ten times”]. The image comes from a sculptor testing the joins between separate pieces of stone. Persius distances himself from the strict Horatian position by putting this formula in the mouth of the interlocutor. It also recalls another passage from the Ars in which Horace calls for renewing everyday speech (populi sermo?) through the use of the callida … iunctura [“the clever joining” or “juxtaposition”]. Persius sharpens this formula in 5.14, verba togae sequeris iunctura callidus acri [“you follow words of the toga, clever at the harsh juxtaposition”]. Thus, Persius proposes the necessity of renewing a Roman poetry that has become effeminately smooth with a deliberate program of harsh, masculine abrasion. This, however, is anything but a call for a return to pre-Horatian standards of self-conscious composition, rather it is a call for their Stoic radicalization.
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