by Peter Jones
44–60: As is typical in ancient laments, Ovid now uses apostrophe and anaphora to personalise his mourning for the greatest poet-singer of all time – tē . . . tē . . . tē . . . tua . . . tē – and describes how birds, beasts, rocks, forests, trees, rivers, and nymphs of waters and woods all joined in grief (44–9; note that the forests shed their leaves like humans cutting their hair, a traditional sign of mourning). No humans? But Orpheus’ genius lay in the hold he had over all nature, animate and inanimate. Ovid now rounds off the story. He tells how Orpheus’ body was torn apart but his head and lyre (said to have been nailed together) were thrown into the river Hebrus by the infuriated Bacchae, but still sang as they floated down it (50–3). Swept into the sea, they reach the town of Methymna on the island of Lesbos (54–5, where they were said to have been buried) – but not before Apollo petrified a snake to prevent it swallowing the head (56–60, a strange detail Ovid lifted from an earlier Greek poet Phanocles, who also says that from then on Lesbos was famous for its lyric poets like Sappho and Alcaeus).
61–6: But what of Orpheus’ shade? Ovid saves the best till last. Recognising all the fabled places he had visited before, but continuing to show no interest in them whatsoever, Orpheus seeks out the one person he wants – Eurydice (61–2). Together again, they stroll round the underworld, taking the air, and now, at any rate, Orpheus can look back without any risk of losing her (64–6). He can be grateful, of course, that in the underworld he has a head to look back with; Eurydice’s condition in the underworld had been critically affected by what had happened to her in the world above (49).
17 Pygmalion, Metamorphōsēs 10.243–97
Background
The story of Pygmalion is one of the songs that Orpheus sings to console himself for the loss of his wife Eurydice (see passage 16). Going on to relate tales of transformation on Cyprus, Orpheus sings of the Propoetides, the first women to prostitute themselves in public. Venus turns these hard-hearted women into granite; and that provides Ovid with the transition to the Cypriot Pygmalion who, shocked by this female behaviour, decides never to marry.
10.243–53: Pygmalion sculpts a beautiful woman, with whom he falls in love
†‘quās^ quia Pygmaliōn aeuum per crīmen ^agentēs
uīderat, †offēnsus uitiīs, quae plūrima mentī
fēmineae nātūra dedit, sine coniuge †caelebs
245
Unlike their modern equivalents, painters and sculptors in the classical Greek and Roman worlds were seen as technicians whose job was to represent the human body as realistically, and sometimes as idealistically, as possible. They are illusionists. So it is not surprising to find claims in ancient authors that some works of art were so perfect that they could not be distinguished from the real thing (here one must remember that ancient statues were also painted). Indeed, the satirist Lucian (second century AD) tells a story about one young man who was so smitten by a nude statue of Venus in Cnidos that he attempted to copulate with it. From there it was a short step to wonder if such works could ever actually be animate in any sense (a notion with which we are familiar from holy statues that ‘bleed’ at certain times of the year). In our digital age, the often apparently fine line between reality and illusion is something of which we are all too aware. It is worth noting that ars means ‘trick, crafty stratagem’, as well as ‘technical skill’.
uīuēbat, thalamīque diū †cōnsorte carēbat.
intereā †niueum^ mīrā fēlīciter arte
†sculpsit ^ebur fōrmamque dedit, quā fēmina nāscī
nūlla potest, operisque suī †concēpit amōrem.
uirginis est uērae faciēs, quam uīuere †crēdās,
250
et, sī nōn †obstet reuerentia, uelle mouērī:
†ars adeō latet arte suā. mīrātur et haurit
pectore Pygmaliōn simulātī corporis †ignēs.’
10.254–69: He touches and kisses the statue, gives it gifts and dresses it up
‘saepe manūs operī temptantēs †admouet, an sit
corpus an illud ebur, nec adhūc ebur esse †fatētur.
255
ōscula dat †reddīque putat, loquiturque tenetque,
et crēdit tāctīs digitōs †īnsīdere membrīs,
et metuit, pressōs ueniat nē †līuor in artūs.
et modo †blanditiās adhibet, modo grāta puellīs
mūnera fert illī – †conchās teretēsque lapillōs,
260
et paruās †uolucrēs et flōrēs mīlle colōrum,
†līliaquē pictāsque pilās et ab arbore lāpsās
†Hēliadum lacrimās. ōrnat quoque uestibus artūs,
dat digitīs †gemmās, dat longa monīlia collō,
aure leuēs †bācae, redimīcula pectore pendent.
265
cūncta †decent, nec nūda minus fōrmōsa uīdetur.
†collocat hanc strātīs conchā Sīdōnide tīnctīs,
†appellatque torī sociam, acclīnātaque^colla
mollibus in †plūmīs, tamquam ^sēnsūra, repōnit.’
10.270–9: He prays to find a wife like the statue
†‘festa diēs Veneris, tōtā celeberrima Cyprō,
270
uēnerat et, †pandīs inductae^ cornibus aurum,
†conciderant ^ictae niueā ceruīce ^iuuencae,
†tūraque fūmābant, cum mūnere fūnctus ad ārās
cōnstitit et timidē “sī, dī, dare cūncta potestis,
sit coniunx^, optō,” nōn ausus †“eburnea uirgō”
275
dīcere, Pygmaliōn “similis ^mea” dīxit “eburnae.”
†sēnsit, ut ipsa suīs aderat Venus aurea festīs,
uōta quid illa uelint et, amīcī nūminis †ōmen,
flamma ter †accēnsa est apicemque per āera dūxit.’
10.280–97: The statue warms and to his amazement comes to life
‘ut rediit, simulācra suae petit ille puellae,
280
†incumbēnsque torō dedit ōscula; uīsa tepēre est.
admouet ōs iterum, manibus quoque pectora temptat;
temptātum †mollēscit ebur, positōque rigōre
†subsīdit digitīs cēditque, ut Hymettia sōle
cēra †remollēscit, tractātaque pollice multās
285
flectitur in faciēs, ipsōque fit †ūtilis ūsū.
dum †stupet et dubiē gaudet fallīque uerētur,
rūrsus amāns †rūrsusque manū sua uōta retractat.
corpus erat! †saliunt temptātae pollice uēnae.
tum uērō †Paphius plēnissima concipit hērōs
290
uerba, †quibus Venerī grātēs agat, ōraque tandem
ōre suō nōn falsa premit; dataque ōscula uirgō
sēnsit, et †ērubuit, timidumque ad lūmina lūmen
†attollēns pariter cum caelō uīdit amantem.
†coniugiō, quod fēcit, adest dea, iamque coāctīs
295
cornibus^ in plēnum †nouiēns ^lūnāribus orbem,
illa †Paphon genuit, dē quā tenet īnsula nōmen.’
Learning vocabulary for Passage 17, Pygmalion
concipiō 3/4 conceive, develop; utter
ebur ebor-is 3n. ivory
fest-us a um festal; fest-a ōrum 2n. pl. festival
īnsīdō 3 sink into
niue-us a um snow-white
pollex pollic-is 3m. thumb
tractō 1 handle, mould
Study section
1. Is Pygmalion (like Narcissus) ‘obsessed with a projection of himself rather than with an independent woman’?
2. Is the Pygmalion story a metaphor of the ideal artist, working so close to perfection as to produce the real thing?
3. If the statue is so perfect, why does Venus not enviously destroy it (compare Minerva’s destruction of Arachne’s work, passage 11)? Or is that not the issue?
4. ‘Women readers may feel less enthusiasm fo
r this story of the perfect wife and its implied guarantee that she will never show discontent or independence’ (Fantham, 2004, 59). Discuss.
5. Compare Ovid’s portrayal of ‘being in love’ in this story with that of Pyramus and Thisbe (passage 9).
Vocabulary and grammar
243 quās . . . agentēs: object of uīderat. agō here is used of passing time (with aeuum); the women in question (quās) are the Propoetides, mentioned in the Background
244 offendō 3 offendī offēnsum*
uiti-um ī 2n. vice, wickedness
quae plūrima ‘which [being] very many’ (object of dedit)
245 caelebs caelib-is unmarried
246 cōnsors cōnsort-is 3f. partner
careō 2 lack (+ abl.)
247 *niue-us a um snow-white
248 sculpō 3 sculpsī sculpt
*ebur ebor-is 3n. ivory
quā with which (picking up fōrmā); quā . . . potest: i.e. impossibly beautiful
249 *concipiō 3/4 conceive, develop; utter
250 crēdās: note the subj., and apostrophe (inviting the reader’s agreement)
251 obstō 1 stand in the way
reuerenti-a ae 1f. modesty (she was, after all, naked)
uelle mouērī: quam 250, i.e. the statue, is still the subject
252 ars . . . suā: a typical Ovidian paradox, the nearest ancient literature comes to expressing the medieval sentiment ars est celāre artem, ‘the art/skill is hiding the art/skill’
hauriō 4 take in, absorb, experience
253 ignēs: i.e. passionate feelings (for)
254 admoueō 2*
255 fateor 2 dep. admit
256 reddīque: i.e. the kisses
257 *īnsīdō 3 sink into
258 līuor -is 3m. bruising
259 blanditi-a ae 1f.*
adhibeō 2 offer. There follows a long list of gifts, almost compulsively poured out
260 conch-a ae 1f. shell
teres teret-is polished
lapill-us ī 2m. pebble
261 uolucr-is is 3f. bird
262 līli-um ī 2n.*. Note the rare lengthened -quē
pingō 3 pinxī pictum paint
pil-a ae 1f. ball
263 Hēliad-es um 3f. pl. daughters of Helios (the sun). They were turned into poplar trees and their tears, falling from the tree, were turned by the Sun into amber (see Background to passage 5)
ōrnō 1 dress, decorate
264 gemm-a ae 1f.*
monīl-e is 3n. necklace
265 bāc-a ae 1f. pearl
redimīcul-um ī 2n. long ribbons/bands (usually attached to a head-dress, and falling down to the shoulders)
266 deceō 2 be fitting, appropriate
267 collocō 1 place
strāt-um ī 2n. bed, bedding, couch
conch-a ae 1f. shell-fish (producing a dye)
Sīdōnis Sīdōnid-is from Sidon (in ancient Phoenicia, modern Lebanon, the source of the famous purple dye)
tingō 3 tīnxī tīnctum tint, colour
268 appellat: sc. ‘her’
acclīnō 1 incline, make X lean
269 plūm-a ae 1f. feather, down
repōnō 3*
270 *fest-us a um festal; fest-a ōrum 2n. pl. festival
celeber celebr-is e famous, visited
Cypr-us ī 2f. Cyprus
271 pand-us a um curved
indūcō 3 cover with X (acc.) over Y (abl.)
272 concidō 3*
īc(i)ō 3 īcī ictum strike
ceruīx ceruīc-is 3f. neck
iuuenc-a ae 1f. heifer
273 tūs tūr-is 3n. incense
fungor 3 dep. fūnctus carry out (+ abl.)
275 eburn(e)-us a um*
277 sēnsit: Venus is the subject
278 ōmen ōmin-is 3n.*
ter three times
279 accendō 3 accendī accēnsum light
apex apic-is 3m. point, tongue (of flame)
281 incumbō 3 lean (on)
tepeō 2 be warm
283 mollēscō 3*
rigor -is 3m. hardness
284 subsīdō 3 yield to, give way to
Hymetti-us a um from Mount Hymettus (south-east of Athens)
285 remollēscō 3*
*tractō 1 handle, mould
*pollex pollic-is 3m. thumb
286 ūtil-is e useful
287 stupeō 2 be amazed
uereor 2 dep. fear
288 retractō 1 touch again
289 saliō 4 pulse
uēn-a ae 1f. vein
290 Paphi-us a um from Paphos (in Cyprus)
hērōs 3m. Greek nom. s., hero
291 quibus . . . agat: subj. expressing purpose (‘with which to offer . . . ’); RL145(3)
293 ērubēscō 3 ērubuī blush
294 attollō 3*
caelō: it is probably too plodding to ask where is the couch so placed that she can see the sky
295 coniugi-um ī 2n. marriage
coagō 3 contract, come together
296 nouiēns nine times
lūnār-is e lunar
orbem: i.e. full moon (the whole phrase means ‘nine months later’)
297 Paphon: Greek. acc. of Paphos
gignō 3 genuī bear
īnsul-a ae 1f. island (but the island is called Cyprus; Paphos is one of its towns)
Notes
244–53: Earlier stories of Pygmalion made him a king on Cyprus who tried the same faintly disgusting trick on a statue of Venus as the young man in Lucian’s tale. In an epic of transformations, however, Ovid sees entirely different possibilities in the tale. He begins by constructing a smooth narrative link with the previous story of the wicked Propoetides, whose dreadful example persuades a shocked Pygmalion not to have anything to do with women, or at least, not diū: so we know there is to be a change (243–6). quae . . . dedit (244–5) is probably best taken as Pygmalion’s thoughts on the matter, though the assumption is common among classical male authors (and Ovid is no exception) that women were not to be trusted where sex and drink were concerned (cf. Cephalus in passage 12, 7.714–19). Observe that Ovid avoids informing us whether Pygmalion was a sculptor by trade (let alone whether he was a king); craftsmen were low-class figures, producing work on commission for clients, unsuitable for major roles in myth (the exception is Daedalus). Likewise, the motivation for Pygmalion’s statue remains unclear. intereā (247) may suggest that Pygmalion’s creation was a form of idealised consolation for his celibacy, but his sudden falling in love (or lust? Cf. ignēs 253) with it is quite unexpected (247–9: note ivory, a fantastically expensive material renowned for its warmth of texture). The statue is so life-like (250) one could even believe it was willing to move; but this would be the last thing any modest girl would do in public, were she by some awful chance to be found naked (hence reuerentia, 251; Pygmalion’s behaviour here may be intended to contrast with the shocking behaviour of the Pygmalion of the earlier story). There is no doubt that this is a lifeless statue: but Pygmalion is still on fire for it (252–3). One is reminded of Narcissus (passage 8).
254–69: Pygmalion’s approach to the statue is carefully delineated. First, there is the physical – from touching to kissing, from kissing to speaking, holding and caressing, abruptly halted (256–8) – and then comes the companionate – sweet nothings, gifts, jewels and ornaments for fingers, neck, ears, breast (259–66). In all this, Pygmalion is acting as one of Ovid’s elegiac lovers would to a real woman (259 grāta puellīs), though the gifts are very unsophisticated (the sort of simple things a Roman woman in Ovid’s elegiac poetry would scorn). The level of ‘intimacy’ now rises: Pygmalion prepares the statue for bed and removes its clothes (nūda 266). We might expect the temperature also to rise here, but note decent and observe that Pygmalion does not see the statue as more beautiful when it is naked: his fixation is not simply sexual. So he lays it on an expensive couch and calls it his bed-fellow (but does not take it to bed with him) and gives it a pillow as if it could feel it (267–9)
. The statue is now referred to as a woman (nūda, fōrmōsa 266, hanc 267, and Pygmalion calls it sociam 268), but there is still no doubt that the statue is ars (252, cf. nōn falsa, 292); whatever his actions, Pygmalion is living at the moment on belief (crēdās 250, crēdit 257) and thoughts (pūtat 256) – as will become even clearer when he approaches Venus with a prayer. The ‘girl’ is still a dream, a fantasy, and Pygmalion’s thoughts are dominated by it, living as he is in an over-heated, imagined world of what might be (but is not). It is a brilliant analysis of what, for many people, being in love for the first time can involve.
270–9: Pygmalion’s creation has obviously changed his mind about women, and the festival of Venus, goddess of sexual activity, creates an ideal setting in which he can raise the question of a wife. It is a packed occasion on Cyprus (270): oxen with horns covered in gold (a very great honour to the goddess) are being sacrificed, and altars are ablaze with incense (273). But Pygmalion, having made his offering, is not at all sure how to approach the matter (274). He can hardly ask Venus to turn the statue into his wife, he feels, though that is what he really wants (275). So he settles for second best – may he marry a woman like her (276). But Venus knows what he really wants (sēnsit . . . uelint 277–8) and sends an encouraging sign – the flame flaring up on the altar where he has just placed his offering of incense (278–9).