current issue - ALL – Associazione Laureati/e in Lingue
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current issue - ALL – Associazione Laureati/e in Lingue
Associazione Laureati in Lingue Università degli Studi di Udine LINGUE ANTICHE E MODERNE MODERNE Rivista accademica internazionale on-line International refereed on-line journal http://all.uniud.it/lam ISSN: 2281-4841 Volume 4 (2015) LINGUE ANTICHE E MODERNE Direttore Responsabile: Renato Oniga Vice-direttrice: Nicoletta Penello Comitato di redazione (Università degli Studi di Udine) Maria Bortoluzzi Annalisa Bracciotti Maria Luisa Delvigo Piervincenzo Di Terlizzi Anna Maria Perissutti Milena Romero Allué Fabio Sartor Sara Vecchiato Segreteria di redazione: Alessandro Re Comitato scientifico internazionale Dagmar Bartoňková (Brno) Bernard Bortolussi (Paris) Chiara Gianollo (Köln) Adam Ledgeway (Cambridge) Dominique Longrée (Liège) Franc Marušič (Nova Gorica) Jaume Mateu (Barcelona) Giampaolo Salvi (Budapest) Michael P. Schmude (Koblenz) William M. Short (San Antonio, Texas) Valeria Viparelli (Napoli) Rainer Weissengruber (Linz) Editore: Associazione Laureati in Lingue dell’Università degli Studi di Udine Indirizzo del direttore e sede amministrativa Dipartimento di Studi Umanistici Università degli Studi di Udine Via Mazzini 3 33100 Udine (Italia) E-mail: [email protected] ISSN: 2281-4841 Iscrizione presso il Tribunale di Udine n. 14/2012 del 13 novembre 2012 Rivista Annuale – Pubblicazione del numero: 30 novembre CC BY-NC-ND 3.0 INDICE Volume 4 (2015) Articoli VALENTINA PROSPERI The Reception of Lucretius’ Second Proem: The Topos That Never Was. 5 THOMAS LINDNER Garrula limoso prospexit ab elice perdix: Textkritik und Wissenschaftsgeschichte am Beispiel von Ov. met. 8.23. 39 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI This all-graved tome. A Reading of John Donne’s A Valediction: of the Booke. 53 MARTINA ZAMPARO Neoplatonism in Blake’s Songs of Innocence and of Experience. 81 INNOCENZO MAZZINI Greco-latino e inglese nella lingua medica italiana contemporanea: convivenza pacifica o sopraffazione? 113 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI La Grande Grammatica Italiana di Consultazione e la Grammatica dell’Italiano Antico: strumenti per la ricerca e per la scuola. 133 Recensioni C. Burrow, Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013, pp. 341. (C. Guardini) 161 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM: THE TOPOS THAT NEVER WAS VALENTINA PROSPERI ABSTRACT This paper aims to reappraise the famous Lucretian proem of the “shipwreck with spectator”. The analysis of early commentaries of the poem shows that our current interpretation, as reflected by present-day commentaries and scholarship, is biased by previous, Humanistic readings. These early readings, in turn, pointed to supposed parallels and antecedents to the Lucretian proem, which are not related to it. Once we discard the supposed parallels, we can fully appreciate the poignancy and singularity of the image, which in any case was not a topos in antiquity. Literary responses to the image have usually taken an antagonistic stance towards Lucretius and voiced the protests of the shipwreck victim rather than the serenity of the spectator. The question remains as to the significance of the image, which seems to voluntarily shake and subvert common ethics. The answer is to be found in Lucretius’ Epicureanism, which reveals the passage as being devoid of any callous overtones. 1. OLD READINGS, PERSISTENT INTERPRETATIONS Suave, mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis, e terra magnum alterius spectare laborem; non quia vexari quemquamst iucunda voluptas, sed quibus ipse malis careas quia cernere suave est. Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri per campos instructa tua sine parte pericli. Sed nil dulcius est bene quam munita tenere edita doctrina sapientum templa serena, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 6 VALENTINA PROSPERI despicere unde queas alios passimque videre errare atque viam palantis quaerere vitae, certare ingenio, contendere nobilitate, noctes atque dies niti praestante labore ad summas emergere opes rerumque potiri. O miseras hominum mentes, o pectora caeca!1 The shipwreck image that opens the proem to Lucretius’ second book has never ceased to attract critical and scholarly attention since the De rerum natura was rediscovered in 1417. So much so, that investigating the passage’s classical and modern reprises amounts almost to a literary sub-genre per se especially in the wake of Blumenberg’s (1979) seminal study. As present-day readers of Lucretius we can take full advantage of a number of critical approaches that have dispelled the centuries-long habit of reading the second proem as an expression of selfishness and even cruelty on the part of Lucretius. Readings such as that by Holtsmark (1967), or David Konstan’s (1973) study on Epicurean psychology have long since reassessed the proem’s significance, stressing that «the pleasure of the philosopher derives not from any active sadistic delight in the difficulties faced by struggling humanity, but from the uninvolved serenity which his own awareness and knowledge of the true workings of the world enable him to embrace»2. 1 Lucr. II, 1-14: «Pleasant it is, when on the great sea the winds trouble the waters, to gaze from shore upon another’s great tribulation: not because any man’s troubles are a delectable joy, but because to perceive what ills you are free from yourself is pleasant. Pleasant is it also to behold great encounters of warfare arrayed over the plains, with no part of yours in the peril. But nothing is more delightful than to possess lofty sanctuaries serene, well fortified by the teachings of the wise, whence you may look down upon others and behold them all astray, wandering abroad and seeking the path of life: the strife of wits, the fights for precedence, a labouring night and day with surpassing toil to mount upon the pinnacle of riches and to lay hold on power. O pitiable minds of men, O blind intelligences!» (tr. W.H.D. Rouse, rev. M. Ferguson Smith, Cambridge Ma. 1992). 2 Holtsmark (1967: 196). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 7 Nevertheless, the fact remains, as Holtsmark remarked, that the negative line of reading has «long commanded serious attention»3, and not only among scholars. The clearest proof of this widespread view is that almost all literary responses in the classical and early modern past stem precisely from this misinterpretation of the Lucretian text. Although a long record of commentaries and critical readings may have got us into the habit of considering the proem as controversial, this does not rule out that the proem still manages to trigger strong reactions in the reader. This disturbance only affects a portion of the proem, i.e. its first two lines: the image that following Blumenberg we now identify as the shipwreck with spectator. Our misinterpretation of the image, due to some kind of psychological unease – that I shall try to better define – has over time sparked off a series of interpretative reading approaches that have infused misreadings of the text of Lucretius in widely circulated commentaries. The result has been to bias our reading of the proemial image even more and to reinforce our misunderstanding of it. Now I do not think it can be denied that to us the force of the image is in large measure due to its unpleasantness. It may well be unfounded, but it is a fact that the image has been for centuries read as the very epitome of Schadenfreude, the “volupté maligne” that Montaigne avowed we feel in the sight of others’ misery: Nostre estre est simenté de qualitez maladives: l’ambition, la jalousie, l’envie, la vengeance, la superstition, le desespoir, logent en nous d’une si naturelle possession, que l’image s’en reconnoist aussi aux bestes; voire et la cruauté, vice si dénaturé; car, au milieu de la compassion, nous sentons au dedans, je ne sçay quelle aigre-douce poincte de volupté maligne, à voir souffrir autruy; et les enfans le sentent; 3 Holtsmark (1967: 193). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 8 VALENTINA PROSPERI Suave, mari magno, turbantibus æquora ventis, E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem4. It is highly unlikely that Lucretius had not foreseen the possibility of this image sparking strong (mostly negative) reactions, and I shall ask this question later on. But for now, I would like to better define the chronological terms of the response to the proem. In his rich and insightful contribution A. Rodighiero has identified in Montaigne and his age the chronological boundary that led to a different, modern approach on the proem, now seen as the expression of selfishness and indifference and no longer – as was Lucretius’ intention and his first readers’ perception – as the expression of the Epicurean sage’s detachment5. I would like to argue that this kind of negative reading dates from the first appearance of De rerum natura: there are a number of responses, polemical for the most part, from the foremost Latin authors that have not been yet identified. And the same applies for the first two centuries of Lucretius’ rediscovery in the Humanism and Renaissance: broadly speaking, there was never a time when the Lucretian proem did not elicit strong and negative reactions. Actually, I would like to draw attention to the fact that many of the traits that we find in present-day critical literature (namely, in commentaries) on the proem, stem from early humanistic and Renaissance approaches to Lucretius, written at the time of his rediscovery. The identification of the continuous threads of critical readings from earlier to present-day commentaries will help us bring to the fore some interesting facts about Lucretius’ II proem. 4 Montaigne (1962: 768): «Our being is cemented together by qualities which are diseased. Ambition, jealousy, envy, vengeance, superstition and despair, lodge in us with such a natural right of possession that we recognize the likeness of them even in animals too – not excluding so unnatural a vice as cruelty; for, in the midst of compassion we feel deep down some bitter-sweet pricking of malicious pleasure at seeing others suffer. Even children feel it» (tr. M. Screech: M. De Montaigne, The complete Essays, London 1993, p. 892). On Lucretius’ conspicuous presence in Montaigne: Screech (1998). 5 Rodighiero (2009: 62). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 9 2. NEITHER METAPHOR, NOR PROVERB One of the clearest signs of the unease widely shared by readers of the proem is the notion, recorded by most commentaries, that Lucretius himself must have been aware of the image’s awkwardness; and that he has therefore tried to ‘amend’ or ‘soften’ the first two lines by way of the third and fourth. Thus, in Ernout’s view, «les vers 3 et suivants s’efforcent de corriger ce que cette exclamation égoïste peut avoir de choquant»6. The same applies for Munro’s commentary, where we read that Lucretius «tries to soften» the hardness of the image «by the explanation of 3»7. Bailey, in his commentary, elaborates at some length on the mode of the first lines of the proem. He does so somehow reluctantly («There remain the introductory lines»), and only after discussing the meaning of the proem in general without the first lines8. When he finally deals with them, Bailey is positive that most readers find them egotistical and «almost cruel»: an opinion that he clearly shares and reinforces with the famous Baconian quote about ‘Lucretian pleasure’9. 6 Ernout (1962-64: vol. 1: 203). Munro (1978: vol. 2: 118). 8 «There remain the introductory lines (1-13) which to almost all readers have an unpleasant taste of egoism and even of cruelty. The Epicurean philosopher, secure in his own independence, gazing on the troubles and struggles of his fellow-men is an almost cynical picture; Bacon referred to it ironically as ‘Lucretian pleasure’. Nor can it be wholly defended, for it is true that Epicurus’ hedonism was essentially individualistic; the Epicurean must be freed from the pains of body and mind, and it would no doubt enhance his sense of pleasure to observe the contrast in the lives of others. Perhaps the only pleas which could be made in extenuation are that in practice the Epicurean, like the founder himself, showed a large degree of kindness to others […], and that it was the aim of Lucr. to make converts, so that as many men as possible might share the Epicurean tranquillity» Bailey (1950: vol. II: 797). 9 Francis Bacon, The Advancement of Learning; Works 3: 317; cfr. Passannante (2011: 128-29). See also the excellent discussion of this passage of Bailey’s commentary in Konstan (1973: 3-8). 7 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 10 VALENTINA PROSPERI Arguing, though, that Lucretius introduces ll. 3-4 to «soften and correct» the opening image10 is tantamount to implying a less than perfect control on the part of Lucretius’ over his means of expression. I actually believe that Lucretius deliberately chose the image because of its poignancy and disturbing quality. Indeed, the force of the image is such as to make the reader immediately attentive and receptive to what follows. As Joachim Classen has pointed out in a classic essay, Lucretius structures his arguments so as to immediately draw the reader’s attention to what follows, in a manner that is strongly reminiscent of Cicero’s recommendations for the proem11. Attentos autem faciemus, si demonstrabimus ea, quae dicturi erimus, magna, nova, incredibilia esse, aut ad omnes aut ad eos, qui audient, aut ad aliquos inlustres homines aut ad deos immortales aut ad summam rem publicam pertinere… nam et, cum docilem velis facere, simul attentum facias oportet. Nam is est maxime docilis, qui attentissime est paratus audire12. Another reading approach common to all commentaries to the proem and one that crept in at a very early date, is to interpret the image as a proverb: as just another occurrence of a well-known ancient topos. This reading approach is on a par with reading the image as a metaphor and, I would like to suggest, just as groundless. Actually, reading the incriminated image as a metaphor or a proverb is an effective way to diminish its disruptive impact by denying its literality. Just as a metaphor is a figure of speech in which 10 Barigazzi (1987: 278) suggests that ll. 3-4 are meant as a defense to possible accusations of malivolentia. 11 Classen (1968: 89). 12 Cic. De invent. 1, 23: «We shall make our audience attentive if we show that the matters which we are about to discuss are important, novel, or incredible, or that they concern all humanity or those in the audience or some illustrious men or the immortal gods or the general interest of the state… for when you wish to make an auditor receptive, you should also at the same time render him attentive. For he is most receptive who is prepared to listen most attentively» (tr. H.M. Hubbell, Cambridge Ma. 1968). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 11 a word or phrase literally denoting one kind of object or idea is used in place of another, in the same way a proverb or adage is a saying often in metaphorical form that embodies a common observation. Ancient precedents and parallels to the Lucretian shipwreck can be found in all the commentaries of the poem, but they do not hold up to closer examination. However, I shall start out by discussing the metaphorical reading, since of the two it is easier to invalidate. The current interpretation of the shipwreck image as metaphorical quite simply stems from a sort of reversed reading that improperly projects the second part of the proem (ll. 7 ff. sed nihil dulcius est…) onto the first (ll. 1-6 Suave mari magno… sine parte pericli) and that finds no justification in the text. The metaphorical nature of the image is nowhere to be perceived for the attentive, unbiased reader. The image at ll. 1-2 is quite clearly not a metaphor: Lucretius presents us with a real situation to ponder (watching a shipwreck), immediately followed by a second, equally non-metaphorical, one (watching a battle). The metaphor proper only appears at l. 7: nothing is more gratifying than dwelling in the well-buttressed temples erected by the doctrine of the sapientes; and from thence watching the wandering and fretting of others below, lost in vain pursuit of intellectual achievement and social prestige. If, in other words, the structure of the proem were reversed and lines 1-2 and 5-6 followed 7ff, instead of preceding them, then the harshness of the first image would be largely diminished13. As of course would be its impact on the reader. Why would the metaphorical image of the spectator watching another’s shipwreck from the shore and drawing pleasure from his own 13 Cfr. Fowler (2002: 33): «Lucretius’ example thus already anticipates the point of 7-13; the wise man safe on land is contrasted with the tempestuous disturbances of the unphilosophical life». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 12 VALENTINA PROSPERI contrasting secure state be so shocking14? Moving now onto the more frayed question of the «image as proverb» reading, it is an approach rooted in Lambin’s hugely influential 1563 edition of the De rerum natura. Lambin was not the first to compare the shipwreck image with other ancient loci; Giovan Battista Pio in his 1501 commented edition remarked that a somewhat similar concept had been expressed by Statius as well: «Similis est illa de prudenti viro Papiniana sententia. Celsa tu mentis ab arce Despicis errantes, humanaque gaudia rides»15. Lambin, however, is the first commentator to offer multiple parallels for the shipwreck image, and to actively suggest that Lucretius might have borrowed from other sources, as we shall see later in further detail16. Today, Lambin’s list of ancient precedents and parallels to the Lucretian shipwreck image is reproduced with little or no modifications in all the major commentaries to the poem. It does not, however, hold up to closer examination. In theory, if the image were Lucretius’ personal rendering of a common topos or proverb17 that had subsequently 14 See for instance Rodighiero (2009: 59): «È noto che negli esametri d’attacco del secondo libro del De rerum natura l’evento descritto, osservato da chi dimora in spazi asciutti e saldi, è soltanto metaforico. All’origine dello sguardo lanciato dalla terraferma verso il mare in tempesta sono riconoscibili infatti gli occhi sereni del saggio: dal margine sicuro di un’esistenza che non teme derive, egli osserva tranquillo l’animato e agitato mondo circostante». 15 I quote from the edition Pio 1514, f. 43r. The reference is to Stat. Silv. 2. 2, 12932: Nos, vilis turba, caducis / deservire bonis semperque optare parati / spargimur in casus: celsa tu mentis ab arce / despicis errantes, humanaque gaudia rides. «We, worthless crew, ever ready to serve perishable blessings, ever hoping for more, are scattered to the winds of chance; whereas you from your mind’s high citadel look down upon our wanderings and laugh at human joys» (tr. D.R. Shackleton Bailey, Cambridge Ma., 2003). On this passage see Newlands (2002: 170-171). 16 Cfr. Lambin’s (1563: 101) comment on the proem. 17 Ernout, ad loc.; Fowler (2002: 28): «The proposition [Lucr. II, 1-2] has a proverbial ring, and the general sense is paralleled in the Greek proverb ἐξάντης λεύσσω τοὐµὸν κακὸν ἄλλον ἔχοντα (I, 81 Leutsch-Schneidewin, with their note)». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 13 replaced all other existing versions by virtue of its poetical memorability, this would not be an unicum in the De rerum natura. The image of the poet as wise doctor, smearing the cup of bitter philosophy with the honey of poetry, stemmed from an ancient lineage of similar topoi that De re. nat. I, 936-942 obliterated and completely replaced for the ensuing ages18. It is true that in the group of ancient examples usually quoted as parallels to the Lucretian proem, those predating the poem do share a character of proverbial vagueness and sententiousness, but when examined more closely they are only loosely related to Lucretius’ proem. They all lack either one or both of the elements that make Lucretius’ image so distinctive: the sea as scenery; the mirroring of the watcher’s serene state in another’s suffering. In other words, the older passages pertain the same semantic area, as they are illustrations of the concept of securitas, and as such they could be grouped together as proverbs; however, they express this concept in different fashions, only remotely reminiscent of De re. nat.’s second proem. On the other hand, in the later ancient passages, those dating after Lucretius, the wording is much closer to De re. nat.’s second proem for the very good reason that they are all meant as responses to it, as we shall see. Let us start with the earlier passages, as listed by Don Fowler in his commentary, which collects and admirably expands on previous critical efforts. Fowler starts out by stating that De re. nat. 2, 1-2 «has a proverbial ring»19 and immediately proceeds to give a list of parallel passages, either literary or proverbial. The first example he presents is the Greek proverb ἐξάντης λεύσσω τοὐµὸν κακὸν ἄλλον ἔχοντα20. The general meaning is vaguely reminiscent of Lucretius’, but the terms are so general as to lose any specific resemblance. And while there is a visual connection between 18 Prosperi (2004: chap. 1). Fowler (2002: 28). 20 Leutsch, Schneidewin (1839: 81-82); «Free from danger I watch another caught by my troubles». 19 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 14 VALENTINA PROSPERI a serene watcher and an anguished watched, there is however no mention of either shipwrecks or even of the sea. The second example is a fragment from Archippus and one already pointed out as the source for Lucretius by Lambin: ὡς ἡδὺ τὴν θάλατταν ἀπὸ <τῆς> γῆς ὁρᾶν ὦ µῆτέρ ἐστι, µὴ πλέοντα µηδαµοῦ21. Here, as opposed to the previous example, the sea is the specific scenario, but any reference to the ‘other person’ that contrasts and mirrors the watcher’s serenity in his anguish is lacking. The third passage pointed out by Fowler, following Lambin’s and all subsequent commentators’ lead, is a fragment from Sophocles: Φεῦ φεῦ, τί τούτου χάρµα µεῖζον ἂν λάβοις Τοῦ γῆς ἐπιψαύσαντα κᾆθ̓ ὑπὸ στέγῃ πυκνῆς ἀκούειν ψακάδος εὑδούςῃ φρενί22. Again, the passage presents only a vague reminiscence with Lucretius’ very specific situation. Here, we find expressed a feeling of recovered calm and serenity that involves in some measure the sea and is enhanced by the awareness of the rain pouring outside: but there is no ‘other in peril’. Actually, I doubt that the Sophoclean fragment would have ever been taken into consideration as a possible parallel to Lucretius’ second proem if it had not been associated, starting, again, with Lambin, with a passage that has much more in common with it. And this is a Ciceronian quote from a letter to Atticus written in 59 BCE: 21 Archipp., fr. 43 K = PCG II, 45 «How sweet it is, o mother, to gaze from land at the sea, without sailing». 22 Soph., TrGF, IV F636: «Ah, ah, what greater joy could you obtain than this, that of reaching land and then under the roof hearing the heavy rain in your sleeping mind?» (tr. H. Lloyd-Jones, SOPHOCLES, Fragments, Cambridge, Ma. 2003). The fragment is reported in Stobaeus; κἆθ᾽ is Meineke’s correction for Stobaeus’ καὶ. See Fowler (2002: 28) for further references to Tibullus’ use of this fragment. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 15 Iam pridem gubernare me taedebat, etiam cum licebat: nunc vero, cum cogar exire de navi, non abiectis, sed ereptis gubernaculis, cupio istorum naufragia ex terra intueri: cupio, ut ait tuus amicus Sophocles κἄν ὑπὸ στέγῃ / πυκνῆς ἀκούειν ψακάδος εὑδούσῃ φρενί23. Once at the helm of the state/ship, Cicero has been forcefully pushed out of it. Now that the helm has not slipped from his grasp, but has been seized from him, he expresses the ardent wish24 of contemplating his enemies’ failure/shipwreck, from the shore of his forced inactivity. Of the group of classical examples usually quoted by commentaries in connection to the Lucretian passage, this is clearly the closest one in imagery (watching from the shore another’s ship being wrecked). But Cicero’s passage leaves no doubt as to where the source of pleasure lies for him: precisely in watching another’s suffering at sea. Cicero’s dream is one of retaliation, not of philosophical detachment, and it would thus make a dangerous parallel to Lucretius’ image, in that it plays up the hostile meaning that readers generally perceive in it, the one they see evoked under the veil of denial in line 2, 3 of De re. nat.: «non quia vexari quemquamst iucunda voluptas». The dating of Cicero’s letter means that we cannot establish whether he had read Lucretius’ poem by then25; since, as far as we know, there were no ancient precedents linking shipwrecks with spectators, it is very tempting to read the letter to Atticus as the first, 23 Cic. Ad Att. 2, 7, 4: «I was long ago getting tired of being at the helm, even when it was in my power. And now that I am forced to quit the ship, and have not cast aside the tiller, but have had it wrenched out of my hands; my only wish is to watch their shipwreck from the shore: I desire, in the words of your favourite Sophocles, And safe beneath the roof/ To hear with drowsy ear the plash of rain» (tr. E.S. Shuckburgh, London, 1899-1900). 24 As expressed by the anaphorical cupio: cf. Rodighiero (2009: 61). 25 As Rodighiero (2009: 61n) points out, Cicero’s letter dates from 59 BCE, while Cicero’s famous letter to Quintus mentioning Lucretii poemata (Ad Quintum fr. 2, 9, 3) is of february 54: therefore it is hard to tell whether Cicero had read Lucretius’ poem at the time of the letter to Atticus. On the letter as Cicero’s possible reaction to Lucretius’ proem: Rostagni (1961). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 16 VALENTINA PROSPERI such reading of Lucretius’ proem. Although attractive, I am inclined to disagree with this view. And this for the very good reason that Cicero does quote a poetical text as a way of commenting on his less than noble thought; but this text is not by Lucretius: it is the Sophoclean fragment acquired as a ‘Lucretian parallel’. Why not quote Lucretius himself if the De re. nat. were the source of the passage? I think that, for Cicero, it was instead the well-trodden Alcaic metaphor of the state as ship26 that triggered an image outwardly close to the Lucretian one, but very dissimilar from it in spirit. In Cicero, watching another’s shipwreck is not the accidental foil that enhances the watcher’s detachment, but the very fulfilment of a wish arisen from the opposite of detachment: an excessive involvement with political life. As I suggested above, the ultimate consequence of reading the proem as commonplace (or metaphorical) has been to cloud our view as to what we should see as actual ancient parallels of, or responses to, Lucretius’ second proem, while at the same time leaving us unable to perceive the presence of others. 3. DISTANCE AND COMPASSION What makes Lucretius’ proemial image so disturbing is the fact that it openly contradicts our ingrained belief that, as individuals, we share a common inborn compassion for our fellow human beings. More than that, the image invites us to ignore what is today and was in antiquity perceived as the role of proximity in promoting human compassion. In antiquity, it was a shared notion that our capacity to feel compassion is in direct connection with the distance (that is lack thereof) from the object that elicits it. The distance could be in space, in time or in kind: 26 See the introductory note to Hor. Carm. 1-14 in Nisbet, Hubbard (1970); Huxley 1952; on the Ciceronian letter and Cicero’s attitude in 59 BCE: Degl’Innocenti Pierini (2006). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 17 the lesser the distance, the stronger our feelings. This is what Aristotle states in the Rhetoric (Rhet. 2, 8, 1386a): For, in general, here also we may conclude that all that men fear in regard to themselves excites their pity when others are the victims. And since sufferings are pitiable when they appear close at hand, while those that are past or future, ten thousand years backwards or forwards, either do not excite pity at all or only in a less degree, because men neither expect the one nor remember the other. The Aristotelian passage is quoted by C. Ginzburg27 in an essay investigating whether, historically, the perception of distance has affected «an alleged natural passion such as human compassion». The same Aristotelian passage is also the starting point of David Konstan’s organic discussion of ancient expressions of the emotion we identify as pity28. Dealing as he does with Lucretius, it is all the more surprising that Konstan does not include the De re. nat.’s second proem in his discussion. But more on that later. For now I would like to stress that within this perspective, Lucretius’ II proem suits the Aristotelian criteria perfectly, as there is no significant distance between the spectator and the shipwreck victim. They share the same circumstances of time and kind; most significantly, they share the same space, being, as they are, within sight of each other29. In other words, Lucretius’ image pairs together the two factors that in Aristotle’s view most elicit compassion in human beings: proximity («sufferings are pitiable when they appear close at hand») and selfprojection («all that men fear in regard to themselves excites their pity when others are the victims»). Nonetheless, the image envisages a reaction from the spectator that is the opposite of compassion. If this is the root of the generalized distress felt by readers of the proem, it is 27 Ginzburg (1994: 48). Konstan (2001: 128-136: Appendix: Aristotle on Pity and Pain). 29 Neurosciences have today confirmed the role of vision (that is of proximity) as trigger of compassion: physically seeing pain in another living being materially activates our brain to feel that same pain: cfr. Rizzolatti – Sinigaglia (2006). 28 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 18 VALENTINA PROSPERI clear why even scholars and commentators may have unconsciously tried to defuse the image by way of reducing it to topos or metaphor. 4. THE NAUFRAGUS’ PERSPECTIVE IN OVID In the analysis of Lucretius’ proem and its legacy – philosophical as well as literary – one side of the question has been rather overlooked, and that is the naufragus’ own perspective in relation to the spectator. As any watching process between two individuals is potentially mutual, so, the direction of the serene watcher’s gaze towards the shipwreck victim is one that can all too easily be reversed. The watched can in turn become the watcher, but the drowning will not derive any voluptas from watching those that idly watch them. In order to know the feelings harboured by the shipwrecked person as he is being gazed upon, we can turn to Ovid: he risked actual, nonmetaphorical shipwreck in his journey from Rome to Tomis and recounted the special terror of impending death by water in Tristia 1, 2 (51-52: nec letum timeo: genus est miserabile leti. / Demite naufragium, mors mihi munus erit30). Indeed the shipwreck imagery is one of the semantic constants in all of Ovid’s poetry from exile and one that is developed with especial consistency in the Tristia31. Comparing one’s sudden downfall with a shipwreck is a common topos of poetry and of ancient poetry; as it is expressing gratitude towards a benefactor through metaphors of drowning and rescuing. Less common is, on the part of the shipwrecked victim, contrasting the rescuer with the spectator: the one who saves us from drowning with the one who watches impassibly, unmoved by our plight, our imminent death. 30 «I fear not death; ‘tis the form of death that I lament. Save me from shipwreck and death will be a bonus» (Tr. A.L. Wheeler, Cambridge Ma. 1988). 31 On the topic in Ovid’s exile production: Claassen (2012: 14-15, 185 on the prominence of the shipwreck imagery in Tristia). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 19 In the Tristia, drowning and shipwrecks clearly emerge as Ovid’s metaphors of choice to evoke his downfall and subsequent exile. This would not be particularly remarkable or original but for the fact that the metaphorical shipwrecks envisaged in Ovid’s poems are never a solitary event and always involve one or more spectators. These, in turn, are never neutral witnesses of Ovid’s sufferings: their attitudes and roles vary, from helpful, to culpably idle, to malignant and even actively vicious. Thus, in Tr. 1, 5, 35-36 Ovid begs his few remaining friends for help: O pauci, rebus succurrite laesis et date naufragio litora tuta meo32. Whereas in Tr. 1, 6, 7-8 he contrasts the selfless abnegation towards himself shown by his wife with the avid profiteers that would rob him even of the planks of his wrecked ship: Tu [his wife] facis, ut spolium non sim, nec nuder ab illis, naufragii tabulas qui petiere mei33. But it is in Tristia 5, 9 that Ovid offers the perfect commentary to De re. nat.’s second proem from the naufragus’ perspective: Caesaris est primum munus, quod ducimus auras; gratia post magnos est tibi habenda deos. Ille dedit vitam; tu, quam dedit ille, tueris, et facis accepto munere posse frui. Cumque perhorruerit casus pars maxima nostros, pars etiam credi pertimuisse velit naufragiumque meum tumulo spectarit ab alto, nec dederit nanti per freta saeva manum, 32 «And so, few though ye are, run all the more to aid my injured state and provide a secure shore for my shipwreck» (Tr. Wheeler). 33 «‘Tis thy doing that I am not plundered nor stripped bare by those who have attacked the timbers of my wreckage» (Tr. Wheeler). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 20 VALENTINA PROSPERI seminecem Stygia revocasti solus ab unda34. Commentaries to this passage35 usually refer to the opening lines of Catullus 68, which are however a very weak match: Quod mihi fortuna casuque oppressus acerbo conscriptum hoc lacrimis mittis epistolium, naufragum ut eiectum spumantibus aequoris undis sublevem et a mortis limine restituam…36 The main difference to consider is of course that in Catullus the authorial voice is the rescuer and not the victim of the shipwreck, nor is there any mention of passive (pavid) watchers. The (anti-)model behind the Ovidian passage is in fact De re. nat. 2, 1-2, as demonstrated beyond any possible doubt by the presence of the spectator(s) watching securely from afar37: Naufragiumque meum tumulo spectarit ab alto: […] e terra magnum alterius spectare laborem. The verbal echoes and symmetrical construction (spectarit / spectare; ab alto tumulo / e terra) bring to the fore the one changed element that reveals Ovid’s vibrant anti-epicurean polemic: 34 «Caesar’s gift – that I draw breath – comes first; after the mighty gods it is to thee that I must render thanks. He gave me life; thou dost preserve the life he gave, lending me power to enjoy the boon I have received. When most men shrank with dread at my fall – some even would have it believed that they had feared it – and gazed from a safe height upon my shipwreck, extending no hand to him who swam in the savage seas, thou alone didst recall me half lifeless from the Stygian waters. My very power to remember this is due to thee» (tr. Wheeler). 35 However, Green (2005: 286), following Luck (1977: 314) points to Lucretius’ II proem: «The image of observed misfortune at sea inevitably recalls the opening of Book 2 of Lucretius». 36 Catull. 68, 1-4: «That you, weighed down as you are by fortune and bitter chance, should send me this letter written with tears, to bid me succour a shipwrecked man cast up by the foaming waters of the sea, and restore him from the threshold of death…» (tr. F. Warre Cornish, Cambridge Ma., 1988). 37 It has been remarked that the Lucretian spectator watches from the shore, not from up high; however, at DRN 2, 9, despicere implies a downward gaze. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 21 naufragium meum / alterius laborem. It is worth noticing that it is not someone else’s shipwreck that is being observed, but naufragium meum, my very own, and there is no room left for contemplation: the reversed perspective, with the metrical emphasis on meum, transforms voluptas into anguish. The onlookers caught affecting compassion (pars etiam credi pertimuisse velit) but not lending material help (nec dederit nanti per freta saeva manum) are exposed as the hypocrites they are. But the shipwreck discourse has a further, surprising twist in Ovid’s Tristia: just as the naufragus can return the spectator’s gaze and become in turn the spectator from amidst the waves, so the situation can be reversed, under new circumstances, with the original watcher now drowning helplessly under the gaze of the former naufragus. As Fortuna is inherently capricious, so it is not advisable to express any but humane feelings at the sight of another’s shipwreck (Tr. 5, 8, 311): … curve casibus insultas, quos potes ipse pati? Nec mala te reddunt mitem placidumque iacenti nostra, quibus possint inlacrimare ferae; nec metuis dubio Fortunae stantis in orbe Numen, et exosae verba superba deae. Exigit a dignis ultrix Rhamnusia poenas: inposito calcas quid mea fata pede? Vidi ego naufragium qui risit in aequora mergi, et ‘numquam’ dixi ‘iustior unda fuit’. Vilia qui quondam miseris alimenta negarat, nunc mendicato pascitur ipse cibo.38 38 «Why do you mock at misfortunes which you yourself may suffer? My woes do not soften you and placate you towards one who is prostrate – woes over which wild beasts might weep, nor do you fear the power of Fortune standing on her swaying wheel, or the haughty commands of the goddess who hates. Avenging Rhamnusia exacts a penalty from those who deserve it; why do you set your foot and trample upon my fate? I have seen one drowned in the waves who had Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 22 VALENTINA PROSPERI Ironically enough, the Lucretian proem had resonated in an unchallenged form at an earlier and happier time in Ovid’s life: in Metamorphoses XV the Ovidian Pythagoras voiced his philosophical detachment exactly in the terms applied by Lucretius to the Spectator: … iuvat ire per alta astra, iuvat terris et inerti sede relicta nube vehi validique umeris insistere Atlantis palantesque homines passim ac rationis egentes despectare procul trepidosque obitumque timentes sic exhortari…39 5. SENECA (AND VIRGIL) As it has been noted, Epicurean philosophy did not preach to rejoice in the plight of others, but simply to draw inner satisfaction from the consciousness of one’s secure state and, in this, it differed from Stoicism. Stoics, and Seneca, did recommend active intervention to help out fellow human beings, despite the fact that Seneca condemned misericordia as a weakness, aegritudo animi, in that the sapiens should not be affected by another’s fate. If we turn to Seneca, we find a consistent undercurrent of polemic against Lucretius’ Epicurean stance as embodied by the second proem. In the De beneficiis a strong fragment of Lucretian memory – one that to my knowledge has gone so far unnoticed – is displayed in antiEpicurean and anti-Lucretian mode. Generally speaking, if we laughed at a shipwreck, and I said, “Never were the waters more just”. The man who once denied cheap food to the wretched now eats the bread of beggary» (tr. Wheeler). 39 «In fancy I delight / to float among the stars or take my stand / on mighty Atlas’ shoulders, and to look / afar down on men wandering here and there – / afraid in life yet dreading unknown death, / and in these words exhort them…»; Ov. Met. XV, 147-152, tr. Brookes More, Boston, Cornhill Publishing Co, 1922. On this passage cfr. Bömer (1986: 297). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 23 consider the De beneficiis40, we find that in it the shipwreck imagery stands out especially in terms of its frequency. What is more noticeable, this often occurs in contexts discussing the opportunity of an active intervention on the part of the sapiens to rescue the shipwreck victims. Thus in 1, 5, 4 Seneca examines the permanent character of a good deed: «Ex naufragio alicui raptos vel ex incendio liberos reddidi, hos vel morbus vel aliqua fortuita iniuria eripuit; manet etiam sine illis, quod in illis datum est»41; 3, 9, 3 reflects on the difficulty of establishing equality between two different benefits «‘Dedi tibi patrimonium’. ‘Sed ego naufrago tabulam’»42. At 3, 35, 4 those rescuing the drowning are among the few that can give the gift of life: «nec medico gratia in maius referri potest (solet enim et medicus vitam dare), nec nautae, si naufragum sustulit»43. Paragraphs 4, 1, 37 and 38 discuss ungratefulness44 by telling the story of Philip’s greedy soldier rescued from shipwreck by one generous stranger, whom in return he robs of his estate. Paragraph 4, 11, 1-3 dwells on the gratuity of benefits: we should not benefit others with the sole aim 40 A recent, succinct treatment of De beneficiis in Inwood (2008: 65-94: 76): «Stoic ethics needs common sense in order to get off the ground, and in the case of good deeds Seneca relies on ordinary common sense for important general views about the nature of benevolence. His repeated claim that some particular course of action is not a good deed just because it involves a quasi-commercial exchange of services is supported primarily by the instinctive sense we all have about what counts as generosity». For a thorough discussion of the treatise’s sources: Chaumartin (1985). 41 «If I have saved a man’s children from shipwreck or a fire and restored them to him, and afterwards they were snatched from him either by sickness or some injustice of fortune, yet, even when they are no more, the benefit that was manifested in their persons endures» (tr. J.W. Basore, Cambridge Ma. 1935). 42 «‘I gave you a fortune,’ you say. ‘Yes, but I gave you a plank when you were shipwrecked!’» (tr. Basore). 43 «Consequently, you cannot return too much gratitude to a physician (for physicians also habitually give life), nor to a sailor if he has rescued from shipwreck» (tr. Basore). 44 Also focussing on ungratefulness is Letter 81 to Lucilius, which refers back to De beneficiis (81, 3) and can be read as an appendix to it: Inwood (2008: 75n). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 24 VALENTINA PROSPERI of reward; the case in point is the naufragus that we help, never expecting to see him again: Ignoto naufrago navem, qua revehatur, et damus et struimus. Discedit ille vix satis noto salutis auctore et numquam amplius in conspectum nostrum reversurus debitores nobis deos delegat precaturque, illi pro se gratiam referant; interim nos iuvat sterilis beneficii conscientia45. In 7, 15, 1 the intention of repaying a benefit is as laudable as the actual repaying itself: Etiamne, si in illa navigatione pecuniam, quam saluti tuae contraxeram, naufragus perdidi, etiamne, si in vincula, quae detrahere tibi volui, ipse incidi, negabis me rettulisse gratiam?46 Readers of De beneficiis are thus led to believe that no good deed is more exemplary or laudable or indeed more common in the ancient world than lending help to a shipwrecked wretch, such is Seneca’s insistence on the imagery. A comparative reading of Seneca’s works reinforces the impression of uniqueness of the De beneficiis under this regard: nowhere else in Seneca’s writings is the shipwreck imagery exploited or made relevant with any comparable insistence. On this heavily oriented backdrop I think it is impossible to mistake the polemical source referred to in De ben. 4, 12, 2: 45 De ben. 4, 11, 3: «to a shipwrecked stranger, in order that he may sail back home, we both give a ship and equip it. He leaves us scarcely knowing who was the author of his salvation, and, expecting never more to see our faces again, he deputes the gods to be our debtors, and prays that they may repay the favour in his stead; meanwhile we rejoice in the consciousness of having given a benefit that will yeld no fruit» (tr. Basore). 46 «Even if, during that voyage, I was shipwrecked, and lost the money that I had raised to rescue you, even if I myself have fallen into the chains which I hoped to remove from you, will you say that I have not repaid gratitude?» (tr. Basore). Also dealing with the theme of shipwrecking, but not directly relevant to this discussion: De ben. 1, 1, 10; 4, 9, 2. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 25 Adeo beneficium utilitatis causa dandum non est, ut saepe, quemadmodum dixi, cum damno ac periculo dandum sit. Latronibus circumventum defendo, at tuto transire permittitur; rerum gratia laborantem tueor et hominum potentium factionem in me converto, quas illi detraxero sordes sub accusatoribus isdem fortasse sumpturus, cum abire in partem alteram possim et securus spectare aliena certamina47. This one passage deals with the central notion that we should do good without expecting any retribution for it, and indeed in spite of the possible consequences; and although aliena certamina here are the legal battles of others, the immediate context is a pointed allusion to De rerum natura’s second proem. In the phrase «cum abire in partem alteram possim et securus spectare aliena certamina», it is not only aliena certamina that responds to Lucretius 2, 5-6 («Suave etiam belli certamina magna tueri / Per campos instructa tua sine parte pericli»); securus and spectare are tiles of the same mosaic. With spectare clearly echoing De re. nat. 2, 2, the very core of the controversial Lucretian proem: «e terra magnum alterius spectare laborem»; as for securus, securitas is the key-word of the Lucretian proem, evoked, if not spelled out directly, throughout the first nineteen verses. As has been pointed out, «[a]lthough Lucretius does not employ the term securitas… the term is concretely discernible in the passage’s final syntagma: cura semota (removed from care). The perfect participle of the verb semovere, also built with the prefix (se-), allows this phrase to capture the primary sense of securitas. In fact, Lucretius engages an entire program of elimination underscored by se-, the prefix of 47 «So far from its being right for us to give a benefit from a motive of self interest, often, as I have said, the giving of it must involve one’s own loss and risk. For instance, I come to the rescue of a man who has been surrounded by robbers although I am at liberty to pass by in safety. By defending an accused man, who is battling with privilege, I turn against myself a clique of powerful men, and shall be forced perhaps by the same accusers to put on the mourning that I have removed from him, although I might take the other side, and look on in safety at struggles that do not concern me» (tr. Basore). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 26 VALENTINA PROSPERI apartness: corpore seiunctus dolor, cura semota metuque – an eradication of pain, concern, and fear that is achieved explicitly through distantiation»48. Seneca seems to make masterful use of allusive memory to pointedly reverse the meaning and message of Lucretius’ second proem49: far from being desirable for the wise man to protect and relish his own securitas unmoved by the plight of others, he must reach out and help his fellow human beings, regardless of how this might affect or even destroy his securus state. What is even more relevant, in the same treatise Seneca quotes a line from Virgil’s Georgics to illustrate the difference between owning a good and owning the right to use that same good. Conduxi domum a te; in hac aliquid tuum est, aliquid meum: res tua est, usus rei tuae meus est. Itaque nec fructus tanges colono tuo prohibente, quamvis in tua possessione nascantur, et, si annona carior fuerit aut fames. Heu! frustra magnum alterius spectabis acervum in tuo natum, in tuo positum, in horrea iturum tua50. The line quoted by Seneca (with the accidental inversion of magnum and frustra), Georg. 1, 158, is no other than the most famous and striking ancient response to Lucretius’ second proem: Quod nisi et adsiduis herbam insectabere rastris, et sonitu terrebis aves, et ruris opaci 48 Hamilton (2013: 101). Lucretius’ name is notoriously very scarce in Seneca’s writings, where it appears only five times: Dial. 9, 2, 14; Ep. 95, 11; 10, 68; 110, 6; Nat. 4, 3, 4 (Doppioni 1937: 13 n. 5). On Seneca’s multi-faceted relationship with Epicurus and Lucretius: Schiesaro (2015). 50 De ben. 7, 4, 7: «Suppose I have rented a house from you; you still have some “right” in it, and I have some right – the property is yours, the use of the property is mine. Nor, likewise, will you touch crops, although they may be growing on your own estate, if your tenant objects; and if the price of corn becomes too dear, or you are starving, you will Alas! In vain another’s mighty store behold, grown upon your own land, lying upon your own land, and about to be stored in your own granary» (tr. Basore). 49 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 27 falce premes umbras votisque vocaberis imbrem heu magnum alterius frustra spectabis acervum concussaque famem in silvis solabere quercu51. Seneca must have been aware that his Virgilian quote was a mimicking of Lucretius 2, 2. This is after all «the clearest single-line verbal echo of Lucretius in the entire Georgics»52: a fact that was not unnoticed even by trudging pedant Nonius Marcellus in 4th century CE53. In the Georgics, the context to this line is the aetiology of labor, a section that has been endlessly dissected and analyzed. Gale’s recent treatment opts for a syncretic approach, arguing that «we should read the whole passage as suggesting that the Hesiodic, Lucretian and Stoic interpretations of history and civilization are all possible ways of viewing the world, none of which finally excludes the others, although they cannot be fully harmonized»54. But I agree with Farrell and Otis that Virgil «in large measure agrees with Lucretius’ conception of labor» and that «in the face of grim necessity, the Epicurean ideal of contemplation is in vain». I also share Farrell’s view that we should consider this line not as «sardonic parody» of De re. nat. 2, but as «a genuine cry of despair». Now, whatever intentions we choose to attach to Virgil’s Lucretian echo, I think we can agree that in the Georgics this line acts as a powerful boundary marker that differentiates (deprecatingly, or regretfully) the Virgilian universe from the Lucretian one by means of evoking it. For Virgil, the relationship between the gazing and the gazed upon is superficially the same as for Lucretius, with the former idle and the latter active. But the meaning 51 Georg. 1, 155-59: «Therefore, unless your hoe is ever ready to assail the weeds, your voice to terrify the birds, your knife to check the shade over the darkened land, and your prayers to invoke the rain, in vain poor man, you will gaze on your neighbour’s large store of grain, and you will be shaking oaks in the woods to assuage your hunger» (Tr. H. Rushton Fairclough, Cambridge, Ma 1999). 52 Farrell (1991, p. 184). 53 Non., p. 646 ed. Lindsay. 54 Gale (2000: 66). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 28 VALENTINA PROSPERI is completely reversed as (former) idleness has now thrown the watcher in despair, while the watched reaps the fruits of his activity. The immediate context to the Virgilian quote is of limited relevance within the De beneficiis; here Seneca is illustrating a secondary point of his argument: the difference, as mentioned before, between owning a good and owning the right to that same good. But a closer reading reveals that a critique of the detached life applies to this passage as well. In this paragraph, the owner of the right to a particular good (an estate, a house, a carriage) fails to actively exploit it and is thus forced to contemplate the owner of the right (the tenant) thriving in his activity. Seneca’s quoting Virgil’s line is then perfectly in keeping with the rest of the treatise and with the anti-Lucretian mode that informs it. As in the rest of the treatise he has stressed over and over again the necessity of actively doing good deeds through a series of shipwreck-centred examples and with one pointed reference to De re. nat. 2, so here he is warning against other inactivity-related risks through an immediately perspicuous anti-Lucretian quote. The De beneficiis stands alone in Seneca’s oeuvre for its consistent reworking and reversing of the shipwreck imagery as presented in De re. nat.’s II proem55. Other Senecan works dealing with the problem of pietas and active intervention towards fellow-humans make only occasional mention of shipwrecks, albeit the stress is always on our duty to offer our help to other human beings56. 55 For a discussion of Seneca’s attitude towards shipwrecks in his life and works: Berno (2015). 56 Nonetheless, the Stoic approach to human solidarity did not fare much better with Christian authors than the Epicurean approach. Stoics and Seneca discriminated between pity (pietas) and mercy (misericordia) and warned against the latter, deeming it as a disturbance (aegritudo animi) for the wise man; for an overview of the topic and bibliography: Zincone (2001: 147-157); on Christian rejection of Seneca’s approach: Konstan (2001: 121-124). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 29 6. LUCRETIUS’ SHIPWRECK WITH SPECTATOR: A STUDY IN SELF-PITY In his discussion of the language of self-pity in the ancient world, David Konstan points to a Lucretian passage to prove his theory that the ancients, while «capable of feeling miserable and saying so», «did not normally speak of pitying or having pity for oneself»57. However, even if we were to agree with Konstan, that for the ancients pity «presupposes a relationship between two parties, pitier and pitied», this does not rule out the possibility of self-pity, as a feeling triggered precisely by the mirroring of one’s misfortunes in another being’s. To prove his point Konstan refers to a passage in the III book where Lucretius demonstrates that the fear of death is groundless by mocking our tendency to project our inevitable death in a future when we – dead – shall not be there to experience death. This is the relevant passage: ipse sui miseret; neque enim se dividit illim nec removet satis a proiecto corpore et illum se fingit sensuque suo contaminat astans. hinc indignatur se mortalem esse creatum nec videt in vera nullum fore morte alium se, qui possit vivus sibi se lugere peremptum stansque iacentem se lacerari urive dolere58. Konstan’s remarks on this passage deserve to be reported in full: «in the course of his demonstration that the fear of death is groundless, Lucretius argues that even someone who avows that death 57 Konstan (2001: 65). Lucr. 3, 881-887; this is the passage in Konstan’s own translation: «He pities himself, for he does not separate himself from that other, nor does he sufficiently distance himself from the body that has been laid out, and he imagines that he is that other one and, as he stands near, invests him with his own sensibility. This is why he is upset that he was created mortal, and he does not see that, in real death, there will be no other self, who might be alive and grieve that he has been snatched from himself and, standing by, suffer for the fact that he himself is lying there and being torn to pieces or incinerated». 58 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 30 VALENTINA PROSPERI is final and that there is no afterlife nevertheless imagines, in spite of himself, that he will be conscious of the pyre or of the animals that will lacerate his corpse; as Lucretius puts it: “he unconsciously makes a part of himself survive” (sed facit esse sui quiddam super inscius ipse, 3, 878). Under such an illusion, Lucretius continues, “he pities himself” (ipse sui miseret, 3, 881). The point is that to pity oneself, one must imagine oneself divided in two: one self is in torment, while the other stands by as an observer, itself unharmed» (my emphasis). What is remarkable in this passage is not only, as Konstan surmises, the fact that this situation is unusual or that self-pity is here expressed through the phrase ipse sui miseret59; but the fact that Lucretius has a full and clear understanding of the inner workings of self-pity. Now, we could postulate that self-pity induced by dividing oneself into two is the most extreme case of a more natural process, which is common now as it was in antiquity: self-pity as self-reflection in another’s sufferings60. As Glenn Most notices, while it is true that there «is no word for self-pity in Greek» and «there is only a surprisingly small number of scenes of self-pity in the ancient Greek literature of the archaic and classical periods»61, the emotion of self-pity is already present and depicted, albeit rarely, in ancient Greek civilization. What is relevant from our perspective is that the very first of the few ancient Greek literary depictions of self-pity is one based on the same self-reflection process satirized by Lucretius. It is the scene in the Iliad where the female slaves mourn the dead Patroclus and respond to Briseis’ lament: «So spake she wailing, and thereto the women added their laments; Patroclus indeed they mourned, but therewithal each one her own sorrows»62. 59 Konstan (2001: 67-68). Ibid. 70 for a discussion on the logical status of pity and self-pity in English. 61 Most (2003: 59). 62 Hom. Il. 19, 301-302 (tr. A.T. Murray, Cambridge, Ma., 1924). 60 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 31 Self-projection is then already perceived by Homer as the normal process which enables self-pity through pity; and Lucretius can ferociously deride it not because it is uncommon, but because it is the norm, well known through experience to all of his readers, ancient and modern. Within this frame, the second proem is like a condensed version of the vitriolic attack on the fear of death: by offering to our consideration another’s sufferings, Lucretius is warning us not so much against pity as against self-pity. Lucretius’ supposedly harsh attitude, as expressed in De re. nat. II proem, rests in the end on his Epicurean contempt for death. Far from ignoring how the image of the impassive watcher would impact on his readers, he deliberately chooses to shock them. He is well aware that the spectator and the shipwrecked person are one and the same, interchangeable. But his philosophy demands that, as spectators, we relish our separateness from the evils of the shipwrecked; and that as victims of a shipwreck, we do not fear death in the least as – doubtlessly – he would not have: Nil igitur mors est ad nos neque pertinet hilum (Lucr. III, 830). It is Lucretius’ most difficult lesson, and as such, it is only appropriate that he has chosen to draw our attention to it in this difficult fashion. Readers ancient and modern have invariably recoiled from the call for moral strength hiding in plain sight in Lucretius’ II Proem. The fact that throughout the centuries we have been misreading the image in all possible ways (as metaphor, as topos, as a cynical display of man’s worst instincts) is probably the best commentary on the moral frailty for which Lucretius blames us. Università degli Studi di Sassari Dipartimento di Storia, Scienze dell’Uomo e della Formazione [email protected] Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 32 VALENTINA PROSPERI BIBLIOGRAPHY Bailey, C. 1950 TITI LUCRETI CARI, De rerum natura libri sex, Edited with Prolegomena, Translation and Commentary by Cyril Bailey, Oxford, Clarendon Press. Barigazzi, A. 1987 Lucrezio e la gioia per il male altrui, in «Filologia e Forme letterarie, Studi offerti a Francesco della Corte», II, Urbino, QuattroVenti, pp. 269-284. Berno, F.R. 2015 Naufragar m’è dolce in questo mare. Filosofi e naufraghi, da Lucrezio a Seneca, in «Maia», 2 (in press). Blumenberg, H. 1979 Schiffbruch mit Zuschauer. Paradigma einer Daseinsmetapher, Frankfurt, Suhrkamp (Engl. Tr. Shipwreck with Spectator. Paradigm of a Metaphor for Existence, Cambridge, Ma., MIT Press, 1997). Bömer, F. 1986 P. OVIDIUS NASO, Metamorphosen, Kommentar, Buch XIV-XV, Heidelberg, Winter. Chaumartin, F.-R. 1985 Le De beneficiis de Sénèque, sa signification philosophique, politique et sociale, Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Claassen, J.M. 2012 Ovid Revisited, London, Bristol Classical Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 33 Classen, J. 1968 Poetry and Rhetoric in Lucretius, in «Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association», 99, pp. 77-118. Degl’Innocenti Pierini, R. 2006 I naufragi degli altri: Cicerone e gli otia del 59 nella testimonianza dell’epistolario, in Santini, C. – Zurli, L. – Cardinali, L. (edd.), Concentus ex dissonis. Scritti in onore di A. Setaioli, Napoli, ESI, pp. 535-548. Doppioni, L. 1939 Virgilio nell’arte e nel pensiero di Seneca, Firenze, Tipografia Fiorenza. Ernout, A. 1962-64 Lucrèce, De la nature. Texte établi et traduit par A. Ernout, 11ème tirage revu et corrigé, Paris, Les Belles Lettres. Farrell, J. 1991 Vergil’s Georgics and the Traditions of Ancient Epic. The Art of Allusion in Literary History, New York-Oxford, Oxford University Press. Fowler, D. 2002 Lucretius on Atomic Motion. A Commentary on De Rerum Natura, Book Two, Lines 1-332. Oxford, Clarendon Press. Gale, M. 2000 Virgil on the Nature of Things. The Georgics, Lucretius and the Didactic Tradition, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 34 VALENTINA PROSPERI Ginzburg, C. 1994 Killing a Chinese Mandarin: The Moral Implications of Distance, in «Critical Inquiry», 21, No. 1, pp. 46-60. Green, P. 2005 Ovid, The Poems of Exile – Tristia and the Black Sea Letters. With a New Foreword, Translated with an Introduction, Notes and Glossary by P. Green, Berkeley-Los Angeles-London, University of California Press. Hamilton, J.T. 2013 Security: Politics, Humanity, and the Philology of Care. Princeton, Princeton University Press. Holtsmark, E.B. 1967 On Lucretius 2.1-19, in «Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association», 98 (1967), pp. 193-204. Huxley, H. H. 1952 Storm and Shipwreck in Roman Literature, in «Greece & Rome», 21, No. 63, pp. 117-124. Inwood, B. 2008 Reading Seneca – Stoic Philosophy at Rome, Oxford, Clarendon Press. Konstan, D. 1973 Some Aspects of Epicurean Psychology, Leiden, Brill. 2001 Pity transformed, London, Duckworth. Lambin, D. 1563 T. Lucretii Cari De Rerum Natura Libri VI. A Dion. Lambino Monstroliensi, litterarum Graecarum in urbe Lutetia Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 35 doctore Regio…, Parisiis et Lugduni, Gaultier, Philippe & Rouillé, Guillaume. von Leutsch, E.L. – Schneidewin, F.G. (eds) 1839 Corpus Paroemiographorum Graecorum, I, Göttingen, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Luck, G. (ed.) 1967-1977 OVIDIUS, Tristia, Heidelberg, Winter. de Montaigne, M. 1962 Œuvres complètes, textes établis par A. Thibaudet et M. Rat, Paris, Gallimard. Most, G. W. 2003 Anger and pity in Homer’s Iliad, in Braund, S. – Most, G.W. (eds.), Ancient Anger. Perspectives from Homer to Galen, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 50-75. Munro, H.A.J. 1978 TITUS LUCRETIUS CARUS, De rerum natura libri sex, Edited with notes and a translation by H.A.J. Munro, New YorkLondon, Garland (repr. of the 1908 edition). Newlands, C. 2002 Statius’ Silvae and the Poetics of Empire, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Nisbet, R.G.M. – Hubbard, M. 1970 A Commentary on Horace: Odes Book I, Oxford, Clarendon Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 36 VALENTINA PROSPERI Pio, G.B. 1514 In Carum Lucretium poetam commentarii a Ioanne Baptista Pio editi codice Lucretiano diligenter emendato…, [Paris] Vaenundantur ab Ascensio & Ioanne Paruo. Prosperi, V. 2004 Di soavi licor gli orli del vaso. Fortuna di Lucrezio dal Rinascimento alla Controriforma, Roma, Aragno. Rizzolatti, G. – Sinigaglia, C. 2006 So quel che fai. Il cervello che agisce e i neuroni specchio, Milano, Raffaello Cortina. Rodighiero, A. 2009 Fortuna di una citazione. Il lucreziano suave mari magno, in «Materiali e discussioni per l’analisi dei testi classici», 62, pp. 59-75. Rostagni, A. 1961 Intorno alla data di composizione del poema di Lucrezio, in Virgilio minore. Saggio sullo svolgimento della poesia virgiliana. Seconda edizione riveduta e ampliata, Roma, Edizioni di Storia e Letteratura, pp. 377-384. Screech, M.A. 1988 Montaigne’s annotated copy of Lucretius: a transcription and study of the manuscript, notes and pen-marks, with a foreword by G. de Botton, Genève, Droz. Schiesaro, A. 2015 Seneca and Epicurus: the Allure of the Other, in A. Schiesaro, A. – Bartsch, S., The Cambridge Companion to Seneca, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, pp. 239-254. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THE RECEPTION OF LUCRETIUS’ SECOND PROEM 37 Zincone, S. 2001 Echi senecani nel Commento ai Salmi di Ambrogio, in Martina, A.P. (ed.), Seneca e i cristiani, Milano, Vita e Pensiero, pp. 147-157. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GARRULA LIMOSO PROSPEXIT AB ELICE PERDIX: TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE AM BEISPIEL VON OV. MET. 8, 237 THOMAS LINDNER ABSTRACT The solution of the notorious crux OV. met. 8, 237 garrula ramosa prospexit ab ilice perdix came along through secondary tradition (limoso… elice) and has been attributed to Merkel’s first edition (1850) ever since. A close look, however, on contemporary scholarship will show that v. 237 had already been emendated some ten years before. 1. AUSGANGSLAGE Es kommt in überlieferungsgeschichtlicher Hinsicht nicht gerade oft vor, dass eine von sämtlichen handschriftlichen Quellen und der darauf aufbauenden Vulgata völlig einmütig tradierte Lesart durch ein – erst spät entdecktes und hier nicht einmal dem betreffenden Autor zugewiesenes – Sekundärzitat nachhaltig aus dem Text verschwindet. Ein Musterbeispiel dafür ist Ovid, met. 8, 237: garrula limoso prospexit ab elice perdix. Bekanntlich ist an diesem Locus conclamatus in der umfangreichen kodikalen Metamorphosen-Überlieferung ausschließlich ramosa… ilice belegt, was sämtliche Ausgaben bis um die Mitte des 19. Jahrhunderts naturgemäß auch druckten; der erste Metamorphosen-Text, der limoso… elice bietet, ist Merkels Edition von 1850. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 40 THOMAS LINDNER 2. ZUR TEXTKRITIK DER STELLE 2.1. Die Handschriften Für die gesamte handschriftliche Tradition (Ω) gilt garrula ramosa prospexit ab ilice perdix. Freilich existiert eine einzige, nirgendwo sonst aufgegriffene Ausnahme, namentlich (ramosa…) elice im Hauniensis 2008 (h) aus dem 12./13. Jh. (allerdings h2, interlinear nach Slater 1927: 35, 141). Dazu äußerte Richmond (2002: 472) die kaum plausible Vermutung: «If this reading is traditional it shows an interesting link with the quotation in the Auctor de dubiis nominibus (?s. VII) (GLK 5, 587, 1) which has the superior limoso… elice» (vgl. auch Richmond 2006: 132). Wenn hier nämlich tatsächlich eine direkte Traditionslinie bestünde, würde man auch bei ramosa eine Interlinearvariante erwarten; zu dieser isolierten Lesart in h vgl. auch Hollis (1970: 64). Dass das Epitheton in ganz wenigen humanistischen Kodizes (ς) verderbt überliefert ist (clamosa, scamosa), wirft möglicherweise ein schwaches Licht auf ein anderes zugrundeliegendes, von ramosa abweichendes Adjektiv. Sowohl Heinsius’ Konjektur glandosa (… ilice) als auch Housmans Emendation lamoso (… elice)1 sind freilich, abgesehen davon, dass damit Hapax legomena nicht nur für Ovid, sondern für die gesamte antike Latinität postuliert werden (*glandosus ← glans ‛Eichel’, *lāmosus ← lāma ‛lacuna lutosa’), auch in Anbetracht von bei Ovid mehrfach belegtem līmosus (neben privativem illīmis) überflüssig. Auch eine Konjektur dumosa… ulice (s. § 3.2.) erscheint wenig stringent.2 1 glandosa Heinsius (s. ed. Burman [1727], II, 567). || lamoso Housman (1894: 147 = 1972: 167f.); übernommen von Edwards (in ed. Postgate, Corpus poetarum Latinorum, I [1894], 445), wozu ablehnend R. Ehwald in Bursians Jahresbericht, Nr. 109, 29. Jg., 1901 [1902], 279f. 2 Zu līmosus ‘sumpfig’ s. ThLL VII.2, 1424, 8ff., v.a. 35f. (ad loc.) [Balzert], zu ēlix (zumeist Pl. ēlicēs) ‘Wassergraben, Sumpfloch’ s. ThLL V.2, 393, 39ff. [Rubenbauer]. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 41 2.2. Die Textausgaben Die Überlieferung ramosa… ilice erscheint nun in den Editionen bis etwa um 1850, z.B. in der ersten Hälfte des 19. Jhs.: ed. Gierig (21804), I, 502; ed. Bothe (1818), 159; ed. Mitscherlich (21819), I, 523; ed. Gierig-Jahn (31821), I, 471; ed. Lemaire (1822), IV, 22; ed. Baumgarten-Crusius (1824), II, 136; ed. Richter (1825), II, 171; ed. Jahn (1832), II/2, 498; ed. Baumgarten-Crusius (1834), 302; ed. Bach (1836), II, 21; ed. Loers (1843), 268; ed. Weise (1845), II, 180 sowie ed. Koch (1851), 146. Ab 1850, beginnend mit Merkels erster Ovid-Edition – ed. Merkel 1 ( 1850 [u.ö.]), 151 – bis hin zur rezentesten Metamorphosen-Ausgabe von Tarrant, findet sich fast nur mehr limoso… elice, so z.B. ed. Lindemann (1854), II, 180, 228 (Anm.); ed. Merkel (21875 [u.ö.]), 156; ed. Siebelis/Polle (1880), I, 149; ed. Sedlmayer (1883), praef. VII, 50; ed. Zingerle (1884), praef. XV, 141; ed. Edwards (in Postgate, Corpus poetarum Latinorum, I [1894]), 445; ed. Haupt/Ehwald (1898), II, 14, 389 (Anm.); ed. Magnus (1914), 297; ed. [Merkel2-]Ehwald (ed. maior 1915), II, 231, (ed. minor 1919), II, 159; ed. Miller (Loeb 1916 [u.ö.]), 3/I, 422, ed. Miller/Goold (Loeb 1977 [u.ö.]), 3/I, 422; ed. Fabbri (Paraviana 1918-23), II, 58, 142; ed. Lafaye (Budé 1928 [u.ö.]), II, 68; ed. Anderson (Teubneriana 1977 [u.ö.]), 182; v. Albrecht 1977: 69, 294 (Anm.); ed. Fedeli/Galasso (Einaudi 2000), II, 340, 1155 (Komm.); ed. Tarrant (Oxford 2004), 224. Nur wenige neuere Ausgaben perpetuieren die alte Lesart ramosa… ilice, z.B. edd. Riese (11872), II, 131, (21889), II, 131; ed. Haupt/Korn (1876), 10; ed. Korn (1880), 172. In jüngerer Zeit sind mir nur ed. Ruiz de Elvira (Madrid 1964 [u.ö.]), II, 104 sowie ed. Hollis (1970), 9, 64f. (Komm.) bekannt (vgl. Hollis 1970: 64: «after much hesitation I retain the manuscript reading»; seine Argumentation «Apart from the rarity of ‘elix’, the picture thus produced is not aesthetically very pleasing» überzeugt m.E. aber nicht wirklich). Erst kürzlich sprach sich aber auch Mark Possanza in seiner Rezension von Tarrants Ausgabe (in Bryn Mawr Classical Review 2005.06.27, online: Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 42 THOMAS LINDNER http://bmcr.brynmawr.edu/2005/2005-06-27.html) wiederum für die Vulgataversion aus.3 3. WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTLICHE ERKENNTNISSE 3.1. Die Exegese der Stelle vor Haupt (1838) Freilich war den Ovid-Exegeten schon bald aufgefallen, dass der Dichter hier einem faktischen Irrtum unterliegen müsse, da, wie er ja selbst wenige Verse später beschreibt (256ff.), Rebhühner sich nur am Boden aufhalten. Exemplarisch dafür sei Burmans Kommentar angeführt, der Ovid aber gleich darauf mit einer naiv anmutenden Erklärung wiederum entlastet: an vero apte perdicem ex arbore prospicientem fingat Poëta, dijudicandum venatoribus relinquo, qui hanc avem semper humi residentem offendere solent. nullum saltem audivi dicere se vidisse perdicem in arbore, quae corporis gravitate prohibetur sublime petere, et in terra facit cunabula. vid. Plin. x. 33. et ipse Noster mox vs. 256 et seqq. agnoscit, et velut excusat se Poëta, quod prima illa et unica tunc avis sublimius volaverit, reliquae deinde humilius4. 3 An neueren textkritischen Diskussionen der Stelle (seit ca. 1900) sind zu nennen: Magnus (1905: 239, Anm. 1: doppelte Rezension?; 1925: 117f.); Müller (1906: 82, Anm. 260); C. Hosius, in Sokrates, 68 (1914), 436; ed. Lafaye (1928), I, praef. XXII; Pasquali (1934: 390, Anm. 2); Mendner (1939: 74); Wieacker (1960: 29, Anm. 18); Lenz (1967: 61); Hollis (1970: 64f.); Anderson (1972: 355); Bömer (1977: 84f.); J. Núñez González, in Minerva, 4 (1988), 316f.; Galasso in ed. Fedeli/Galasso (2000), II, 1155; Richmond (2002: 472; 2006: 132); Liberman (2004: 57). 4 P. Burmannus, ed. 1727, II, 567f. ad loc. – Eine naturgeschichtliche „Autorität” machte dafür Bach (ed. 1836, II, 21) geltend: „ab ilice perdix wie mit 256 ff. zu vereinigen? Chandler bei Schneid. zu Ael. H. N. III, 35 bezeugt, daß das Rebhuhn auch auf Bäumen sitzend singe. Oder redet Ov. nur aus dem mythischen, nicht naturhistorischen Gesichtspuncte?” Vgl. auch Kindscher in Zeitschrift für Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 43 Noch in den allerletzten Ausläufern der Aetas Heinsio-Burmanniana findet sich Ähnliches, so etwa in den erklärenden Noten der Metamorphosen-Ausgabe von Vitus Loers: Ceterum sunt, qui reprehendant poetam, quod perdicem ex arbore prospicientem fingat, cum haec avis semper humi versetur, et in terra faciat cubilia. Neque hoc latuit Nasonem, qui v. 256. hanc avis indolem e Perdicis casu explicat. Sed nunc transitum quaerebat (ed. 1843, 268 ad loc.). 3.2. Ein unbeachtetes Intermezzo: Sprengels dumosa… ulice (1815) Hollis (1970: 64f.) referiert eine offensichtlich bis dahin unpublizierte, wohl mündliche Konjektur seines Lehrers R.G.M. Nisbet (ramoso… ulice) und bezeichnet sie, «if emendation is thought necessary», als «attractive suggestion» (zustimmend dazu S. Döpp, Gnomon 44 [1972], 566). Meine Recherchen haben freilich zutage gefördert, dass die Konjektur ulice (zu ūlex ‛rosmarinartiger Strauch’) bereits lange vor Nisbet, ja sogar noch vor der Entdeckung von limoso… elice geäußert wurde, und zwar mit ausführlicher Begründung von Christian Konrad Sprengel (1815: 33-37); er änderte den Ovid-Vers in garrula dumosa prospexit ab ulice perdix: Ovid würde einen unverzeihlichen Fehler begangen haben, wenn er hier gesagt hätte, daß das Rebhuhn auf einer immergrünen Eiche, die Horaz Epod. XV, 5. einen hohen Baum nennt, gesessen habe, da er selbst weiter unten sagt, daß dieser Vogel nicht hoch fliege, und in Zäunen und Hecken brüte. Da wir aber in seinen übrigen Erzählungen so grobe Widersprüche nicht antreffen, so ist es wahrscheinlich, daß er etwas anderes geschrieben habe, als was wir hier lesen. In ilice muß der Nahme eines Strauchs verborgen liegen, ein selten vorkommendes Wort, welches einem das Gymnasialwesen, 1854, 231. – Zur mythologischen bzw. zoologischen Interpretation von lat. perdix ‘Rebhuhn’ vgl. Gerland (1871: 1–28) und Bömer (1977: 83f.). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 44 THOMAS LINDNER Abschreiber unbekannt war, und deswegen von ihm in ilice verwandelt wurde. Und was das clamosa betrifft, welches Eine Handschrift anstatt ramosa hat, so ist es zwar ungereimt, verdient aber doch unsere Aufmerksamkeit, weil es vielleicht aus dem rechten Wort entstanden seyn kann. Verfolgen wir diese Spur, so kömmt uns gleichsam von selbst entgegen dumosa ab vlice […] Da indessen Plinius sagt, der Vlex sey ein dorniger oder stachlicher Strauch, so nehme ich meine Verbesserung nicht zurück, weil Ovid […] vom Vlex, keinesweges aber von der immergrünen Eiche geredet haben kann. (Original in Fraktur; zitiert in der Orthographie des Originals; Sprengel 1815: 33f., 37) Diese durchaus ingeniöse Argumentation, die die definitive Lesart unter anderen Vorzeichen gewissermaßen schon vorausgeahnt hatte, schlug sich freilich in keinem Metamorphosen-Text nieder: Sprengels Konjektur hatte keine einzige Ausgabe ad loc. aufgegriffen oder referiert; dies vermutlich deshalb, weil sie von der zeitgenössischen Kritik ziemlich verhalten rezipiert wurde5. 3.3. Haupt (1838) und die Folgen Nun begegnet aber in dem bereits zitierten frühmittelalterlichen Grammatikertraktat (De generibus nominum oder De dubiis nominibus, 5, 568ff GLK) ein ohne weitere Spezifikation dem Varro zugeschriebenes Fragment, das dem gegenständlichen Ovid-Vers bis auf eine metrische Entstellung bestens entspricht: «Perdix generis feminini, ut Varro “garrula limoso prospicit elice perdix”» (5, 587, 1f GLK). Jenes mehr oder weniger alphabetisch geordnete, auf die Nominalgenera abzielende Glossar wurde freilich erst in den späten 1830er Jahren von Moriz Haupt (wieder-)entdeckt und von ihm im Jahr 1838 veröffentlicht. Er nahm bei der Erklärung der Stelle auch 5 Vgl. Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, 1816, 2. Bd., 189; Jenaische allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, 13. Jg., 1816, 1. Bd., 252, 256; ed. Gierig-Jahn (31821), I, praef. IX, Anm. 8 sowie Fuss (1823/1824: 15). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 45 sogleich die Korrektur der Zitatidentifikation vor; fehlerhafte Zuweisungen insbesondere an Varro treten in diesem Werk ohnedies öfters auf.6 Die sich daraus entspinnende Debatte war dem großen Neuerer der Ovid-Kritik Rudolf Merkel sicherlich bekannt. Denn wie ja schon öfters erwähnt, findet sich bereits in dessen erster Metamorphosen-Ausgabe (ed. 1850, mit zahlreichen Nachdrucken) der heutige, im Aufsatztitel zitierte Textus receptus. (Hätte Burman, nebenbei bemerkt, jenes Grammatikerzitat gekannt, wäre er mit dessen Version sicherlich höchst zufrieden gewesen.) Weder aber in der Praefatio der ersten Auflage von 1850 noch im kritischen Vorspann der revidierten zweiten Auflage von 1875 rechtfertigte Merkel diese neue Lesung, woraus folgt, dass sie um die Jahrhundertmitte bereits Opinio communis gewesen sein muss. Im Variantenapparat der großen Edition von Hugo Magnus (ed. 1914, 297) wird limoso prospexit ab elice perdix mit «237 sic Merkel» explizit ihm zugeschrieben;7 die jüngsten Ausgaben von Anderson und Tarrant geben darüber keine Auskunft. Aus diesem Grund erscheint es mir durchaus angebracht, den tatsächlichen Verlauf der Diskussion zwischen 1838, der Erstveröffentlichung des Zitats, und 1850, der Erstaufnahme der Neulesung in einen offiziellen Ovid-Text, nachzuzeichnen. Es wird augenfällig werden, dass nicht primär Merkel das Verdienst zukommt, met. 8.237 auf diese neue textliche Grundlage gestellt zu haben, wovon die bisherige, vor allem rezentere Exegese unhinterfragt ausgeht. Im Kommentar seiner Ausgabe von De generibus nominum8 von 1838 schrieb Moriz Haupt: 6 Vgl. ed. Magnus (1914), 297, Testimonienapparat (met. 2.494, 825, 8.237). Vgl. auch Cook (1914: 727, Anm. 3); weiters: Magnus (1925: 117); Lafaye (ed. 1928), I, praef. XXII; Slater (1927: 35, 141); Bömer (1977: 84f.), v. Albrecht (1977: 294) und Galasso in ed. Fedeli/Galasso (2000), II, 1155. 8 Es handelt sich dabei um eine Sammelausgabe von Ovids Halieutica, Grattius’ und Nemesians Cynegetica sowie etlichen Inedita, darunter eben De generibus nominum. 7 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 46 THOMAS LINDNER 20. Varro] Varronem in admirandis perdicas Boeoticos dixisse refert Nonius p. 218 M. sed qui sequitur uersiculus non Varronis est, uerum Ouidii met. 8, 237, ubi male scriptum extat garrula ramosa prospexit ab ilice perdix. (Haupt 1838: 92f.) Noch im selben Jahr griff Samuel Obbarius in seiner Rezension der Metamorphosen-Ausgabe von Bach (ed. 1836) diesen Vorschlag auf: Man vergleiche das Verzeichniss der vorgeschlagenen Textverbesserungen S. 622. Wenn auch viele derselben sich nicht durchaus nothwendig erweisen, so legen sie doch ein rühmliches Zeugniss von der Sprachkenntniss des Herausgebers [scil. Bachs] ab. Anderes hat sich des Schutzes zu erfreuen gehabt, dass dessen unwerth war. […] Dahin gehört die sonderbare Lesung 8, 237: Hunc – Garrula ramosa prospexit ab ilice perdix. Da aber Rebhühner sich nie auf Bäume setzen, auch kein sonstiger Grund vorhanden ist, warum die Alten bisweilen von der Naturgeschichte abweichen […], und hier Vers 256 jener naturhistorischen Sünde geradezu widerspricht: so musste die Vulgata aufgegeben werden. Glücklicherweise hat sich das Wahre in dem von Moriz Haupt edirten Buche: de Generibus nominum p. 92 (in Ovidii Halieutica etc. Lips. 1838) gefunden: garrula limoso prospicit elice perdix. Zwar wird daselbst dieser Vers dem Varro zugeschrieben, aber der gelehrte Editor hat mit Recht auf diesen Vers des Ovid verwiesen, gleich wie p. 104, wo ebenfalls Varro statt des Ovidius genannt wird [scil. met. 2.494]. (Obbarius 1838: 1198f.) Ebenfalls noch im selben Jahr übernahm Johann Kaspar Orelli in der Einleitung zu seiner Horaz-Ausgabe die Trouvaille und formulierte den Vers erstmals so, wie er späterhin im Ovid-Text beinahe allenthalben figurieren sollte: Sic Ovidius Metam. VIII, 237 scripserat: Garrula limoso prospexit ab elice perdix: uti nunc scimus ex libello de generibus nominum ed. Hauptii p. 92. Quid ausus est interpolator? Garrula ramosa prospexit ab ilice perdix: in Codd. sine varietate, [quae ad veram Ovidii manum nos perducat 1844] nisi quod corruptelae tenuia quaedam vestigia supersunt in Mor. 1. clamosa. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 47 Sen. 2. scamosa. Sen. 1. ramoso [= ς, Anm.]: verum quod dedit [/inculcavit 1844] grammaticus prorsus repugnat et avis naturae et v. 256: Non tamen haec alte volucris sua corpora tollit cet.9 Schon im Jahr 1838 stand also der bis heute maßgebliche Wortlaut fest. Eine Begründung der Korruptel lieferte schließlich Friedrich Wilhelm Schneidewin 1846: […] haben wir hier [scil. met. 8.237] einen von mir im Martialis oft nachgewiesenen, bei Ovid äusserst häufigen fall, wo unzeitige reminiscenzen anderer stellen desselben dichters den abschreibern von selbst in die feder flossen und das richtige gefälscht wurde. Hier ist die quelle der corruptel art. am. 3,149. Sed neque ramosa numerabis in ilice glandes. (Schneidewin 1846: 169). Es war nun lediglich eine Frage der Zeit, bis limoso… elice von einer Ovid-Ausgabe aufgegriffen werden sollte.10 Den tatsächlichen Wert des Grammatikerzitats brachte schließlich Rudolf Ehwald auf den Punkt: Wir haben nur für die ersten Bücher im frgm. Bernense eine wenn auch in letzter Instanz mit unsern Handschriften auf denselben Archetypus zurückgehende, doch eine besondere Tradition bietende Textquelle: sehr möglich, daß die exquisite Lesart unserer Stelle auf eine dem Bern. verwandte Handschrift zurückgeht. (Ehwald 1898: 389) 9 Q. Horatius Flaccus, Recensuit Io. Casp. Orellius, II, Turici/Londinii 1838, praef. VI-VII = 21844, 131. Vgl. dazu noch Madvig (1873: 81): „In iis [scil. libris metamorphoseon] quales subesse possint in omnibus, etiam optimis, codicibus interpolationes, ostendit protractum illud nostra demum aetate ab Hauptio e grammatici scripto in libro VIII, 237 limoso… ab elice, pro quo substitutum erat ad rem absurdissime ramosa ab ilice”, des weiteren Ehwald (1889: 2). 10 Nicht verschwiegen sei freilich, dass es auch gegenteilige Stimmen gab, die limoso… elice im Grammatikertraktat als Korruptel ansahen, z.B. V. Loers, Rez. ed. Haupt (1838), in Allgemeine Literatur-Zeitung, 1840, 3. Bd., 239f.; Unger (1848: 209, Anm. 15, vs. 446) und v.a. Otto (1850: 48). Vgl. auch Le Clerc (1849: 680). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 48 THOMAS LINDNER 4. FAZIT: EIN ADÄQUATER APPARAT FÜR MET. 8, 237 In unserem glücklichen, aber leider seltenen Fall hat also die indirekte Überlieferung ein Fenster in eine Traditionsschicht eröffnet, die längst schon verloren gegangen ist und durch das vorliegende handschriftliche Material nicht mehr rekonstruiert werden hätte können. Aus textkritischer Sicht ist die Änderung von limoso… elice in ramosa… ilice leicht erklärbar: Es handelt sich um die bereits im Archetyp der überlieferten direkten Quellen (Ω) erfolgte Trivialisierung einer Lectio difficilior. Die wissenschaftshistorische Aufarbeitung hat wiederum gezeigt, dass selbst die aktuellen Referenzeditionen11 sowie die jüngere Sekundärliteratur12 die Fakten nicht immer lückenlos und eindeutig präsentieren. Nicht Merkel 1850, sondern bereits Haupt und Orelli haben den Ovid-Vers im Jahr 1838 restituiert: ein wenngleich nur kleines, so aber doch ‘exquisites’ Detail der Forschungsgeschichte. Ein umfassender Apparat für diesen, im übrigen, perfekten Versus aureus könnte somit nach meinem Dafürhalten in etwa folgendermaßen aussehen: 247 ramosa prospexit ab ilice (ἐκ θαµνώδους πρίνου Planudes) codd., vulg. olim, Hollis : limoso prospicit elice Dub. nom. gramm. p. 92 sq. Haupt (qui hunc versum Varroni tributum primus Ovidio tribuit), V 587 GLK : limoso prospexit ab elice emend. Orelli, secuti sunt Merkel, edd. recc. || limoso] ramosa Ω edd. vett. : clamosa vel scamosa ς : ci. glandosa Heinsius : dumosa Sprengel : lamoso Housman, quem secuti sunt Edwards, Lenz | prospexit] respexit ς | elice] ilice Ω (elice h2) edd. vett. : ci. ulice Sprengel, Nisbet. 11 Was Ovids Metamorphosen anbelangt: Anderson und Tarrant, aber durchaus auch noch Magnus und Ehwald (s. § 2.2.) 12 Magnus, Lenz, Hollis, Bömer, Galasso usw. (s. Fn. 3). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 49 Universität Salzburg Fachbereich Linguistik [email protected] BIBLIOGRAPHIE von Albrecht, M. 1977 Römische Poesie, Texte und Interpretationen, Heidelberg, Stiehm. Anderson, W.S. 1972 Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Books 6-10, Norman (Okla.), University Press. Bömer, F. 1977 P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphosen, Kommentar, Buch VIIIIX, Heidelberg, Winter. Cook, A.B. 1914 Zeus. A Study in Ancient Religion, Vol. I, Cambridge, University Press. Ehwald, R. 1889 Ad historiam carminum Ovidianorum recensionemque symbolae, I, Programm Gotha. 3 1898 Die Metamorphosen des P. Ovidius Naso, Vol. II, Berlin, Weidmann. Fuss, J.D. 1823/1824 Ad J.B. Lycocriticum epistola, Leodii, Collardin, 1823 / Coloniae, Dumont-Schauberg, 1824. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 50 THOMAS LINDNER Gerland, G. 1871 Über die Perdixsage und ihre Entstehung, Programm Halle/S. Haupt, M. 1838 Ovidii Halieutica, Gratti et Nemesiani Cynegetica ex recensione Mauricii Hauptii. Accedunt Inedita Latina et tabula lithographica, Leipzig, Weidmann. Hollis, A.S. 1970 Ovid: Metamorphoses Book VIII, Oxford, University Press. Housman, A.E. 1886-93 [1894] Emendations in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, in «Transactions of the Cambridge Philological Society», 3, S. 140153. 1972 The Classical Papers, Vol. I, Cambridge, University Press. Le Clerc, V. 1849 Catalogue général des manuscrits des bibliothèques publiques des départements, Vol. I, Paris, Imprimerie Nationale. Lenz, F.W. 1967 Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Prolegomena to a Revision of Hugo Magnus’ Edition, Dublin-Zürich, Weidmann. Liberman, G. 2004 Observations sur le texte des Métamorphoses d’Ovide, in «Revue de philologie, de littérature et d’histoire anciennes», 78, S. 57-90. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 TEXTKRITIK UND WISSENSCHAFTSGESCHICHTE 51 Madvig, J.N. 1873 Adversaria critica ad scriptores Graecos et Latinos, Vol. II: Emendationes Latinae, Hauniae, Gyldendal. Magnus, H. 1905 Ovids Metamorphosen in doppelter Fassung?, in «Hermes», 40, S. 191-239. 1925 Ovids Metamorphosen in doppelter Fassung? II, in «Hermes», 60, S. 113-143. Mendner, S. 1939 Der Text der Metamorphosen Ovids (Diss. Köln), Bochum-Langendreer. Müller, H.W.H. 1906 De Metamorphoseon Ovidii codice Planudeo, Diss. Gryphiae 1906. Obbarius, S. 1838 Rez. ed. Bach (1836), in «Zeitschrift für die Alterthumswissenschaft», 5, Sp. 1197-1201. Otto, F.W. 1850 Grammatici incerti de generibus nominum sive de dubio genere opusculum, Gissae, Brühl. Pasquali, G. 1 1934 (u.ö.) Storia della tradizione e critica del testo, Firenze, Sansoni. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 52 THOMAS LINDNER Richmond, J. 2002 Manuscript Traditions and the Transmission of Ovid’s Works, in Boyd, B.W. (Hrsg.), Brill’s Companion to Ovid, Leiden, Brill, S. 443-483. 2006 132. Rez. ed. Tarrant (2004), in «Hermathena», 180, S. 129- Schneidewin, F.W. 1846 Horatius sat. I, 6, 126, in «Philologus», 1, S. 168-169. Slater, D.A. 1927 Towards a Text of the Metamorphosis of Ovid, Oxford, Clarendon. Sprengel, C.K. 1815 Neue Kritik der klassischen Römischen Dichter in Anmerkungen zum Ovid, Vergil und Tibull, Berlin, Gädicke. Unger, R. 1848 De C. Valgii Rufi poematis commentatio, Halis (S.), Orphanotropheum. Wieacker, F. 1960 Textstufen klassischer Juristen, Göttingen, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 THIS ALL-GRAVED TOME. A READING OF JOHN DONNE’S A VALEDICTION: OF THE BOOKE BENEDETTO PASSARETTI ABSTRACT This article presents a close reading of John Donne’s poem A Valediction: of the Booke. Often neglected by scholarship, this complex composition centres around the ambiguous symbolism of the book which gives the title to the poem, cherished both as token of material presence and as a lasting written document of the lovers’ passion. The volume, a joint collaboration of male design and female ghost-writing, is put before the eyes of all future generations as a universal, sacred text, as a rule book aimed to govern every domain of human existence. This analysis of the seven stanzas emphasizes Donne’s subtle use of classical learning and the multiplicity of meanings evoked by the book metaphor, in particular the contradictory processes of memory and forgetting. 1. INTRODUCTION A Valediction: of the Booke is not generally regarded as one of the greatest poetic achievements of John Donne, who is perhaps the most influential among the English poets of the early seventeenth century. Seldom is this valediction mentioned in critical assessments of John Donne’s Songs and Sonnets and in the few exceptional instances, the reference is either dismissive or parenthetical (a notable exception being Marotti 1986: 169-172), with even Helen Gardner designating the poem’s language «strained» (in Donne 1965: 196n). In a recent and compelling reading of Donne’s work, Ramie Targoff mentions this poem briefly, suggesting that it is «arguably the least successful of the four Valedictions» (2008: 66). It is indeed difficult to disagree Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 54 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI with her judgement, or with that of Silvia Bigliazzi, who lists the poem among Donne’s most complex compositions (Serpieri-Bigliazzi, in Donne 2007: 228). Its obscurity of expression, the recherché allusiveness of its classical and medieval sources – Marotti speaks of «learned foolishness» (1986: 171) – and ultimately the overall complexity of its seven-stanza-long reasoning certainly do not encourage a thorough appreciation of A Valediction: of the Booke, especially for the modern reader untrained in such scholarship. It is ironic that the four-century gap dividing Donne’s text from our own sensibility presents such an alienating barrier to readers when we consider that much of the poem’s argumentation relies on the immortalizing power of language. The central image of the valediction is the “Booke” of the title1, which the speaker impels his beloved to write: the poem in its whole may be conceived as the sketchy outline of that vaster project he commissions the lady to set down in writing. Her main sources will be the «manuscripts, those Myriades / Of letters, which have past twixt thee and mee» (ll. 10-11)2. The book, an object which by way of its materiality resists the passing of time, represents therefore not merely a token of eternal presence, but a document for posterity: I’ll tell thee now (deare Love) what thou shalt doe To anger destiny, as she doth us, How I shall stay, though she esloygne me thus And how posterity shall know it too. (ll. 1-4) Ovid’s Heroides, a collection of imaginary love letters written by heroines of classical mythology, is probably the model par excellence 1 The title of the poem varies according to the edition. This article follows Helen Gardner’s, where the text appears under the title A Valediction: of the Booke. Valediction to his booke is the variant chosen by C.A. Patrides (in Donne 1985). With both the colon and the noun capitalization, the former title better emphasizes the centrality of the book as a symbol. 2 Cited from Helen Gardner’s edition (Donne 1965). Unless specified, all further in-text references to Donne’s poetry are to this edition. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 55 of Donne’s “Booke”; Ovid constantly relies on the immortalizing power of poetry in his works3. Until the disquieting doubt is disclosed in the final stanza of the valediction, which puts into question the efficacy of the whole ‘book-writing’ conceit as a means of overcoming absence, the lyrical voice revels in his bold expectation that the lines of the poem will provide a written, public, permanent record of his individual and ephemeral love. The wish is that a capitalL “Love” will endure for all future time through the words of the valediction: «how Love this grace to us affords, / To make, to keep, to use, to be these his Records» (ll. 17-18), where here the demonstrative pronoun these indicates both the «Annals» of their love (l. 12) and the lines of the poem itself. In contrast with the other three valedictions collected in Songs and Sonnets, the theme of separation does not seem to be the central concern here. As the term ‘valediction’ itself leads us to expect, the poem ought to revolve around a situation of ‘leave-taking’. HansHeinrich Freitag (1975: 146) has suggested that the recurrent motif of absence traceable in so many poems of the collection is in A Valediction: of the Booke nothing more than a pretext. Far from expressing his anxiety at the thought of bidding farewell to his beloved, the speaker seems more obsessed by the mysterious need to imagine the response which her book will elicit in different future circles of readership – “Loves Divines”, “Lawyers”, and “Statesmen” in the fourth, fifth, and sixth stanzas respectively. Yet, upon closer inspection, it is indeed a poem about anxiety, albeit one of a different type. This anxiety is an uneasiness deriving from the speaker’s reliance on the symbolism of the book, a most ambiguous object and particularly so for a poet whose literary output was constantly 3 One of the most famous formulations in this respect is in Tristia IV, 10, 1-2: Ille ego qui fuerim, tenerorum lusor amorum, / quem legis, ut noris, accipe posteritas (“That thou mayst know who I was, I that playful poet of tender love whom thou readest, hear my words, thou of the after time”, transl. by A.L. Wheeler). All translations of the classical texts included in this article are based on the Loeb editions. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 56 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI influenced by the simultaneous coexistence and mutual influence of manuscript and print culture4. The aim of these pages is to read A Valediction: of the Booke by shedding light on the multifaceted significance of its central metaphor. 2. THE SYMBOLISM OF THE BOOK “The Book as Symbol” in the early modern period was famously discussed by E.R. Curtius in the sixteenth chapter of European Literature and the Latin Middle Ages (1990 [1948]). The German scholar emphasized the centrality of book imagery in medieval and Renaissance literature, tracing its roots to the historical transition from a religious to a secularized culture, a process which accelerated by the explosive growth of the recently created European book market (Pettegree 2010: 65-90). Like many other love tokens in Songs and Sonnets, the “Booke” of Donne’s valediction embraces both the religious and the secular domain. It is a universal book, a book about love, religion, history, law, politics, art, alchemy. The “Booke” in the Renaissance is an ambiguous symbol because not only could stand for the indisputable orthodoxy of religious truth, but also provide the ultimate icon of cultural relativism. The art historian Jan Białostocki highlights the ambiguity of the book in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century culture: «A book may be the book of religious truth – the Bible, or a book of human learning, valued for the erudition and culture in it but also looked down on because the human learning it conveys has no really lasting value but passes away in time» (1988: 46)5. All these contrasting and contradictory meanings are at play in A Valediction: of the Booke, so that the woman’s book is as unreliable as the mirror-like tear of A Valediction: of Weeping or as the name written on the glass 4 For a thorough analysis of this cultural context, see Wollman (1993). See also the discussion in Aleida Assmann’s Cultural Memory and Western Civilization (2011: 178). 5 Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 57 of the window-pane in A Valediction: of my Name in the Window. The ensuing close reading of the poem’s seven stanzas aims to show how Donne constructs a forceful metaphor of the book as culturally transmissible microcosm, where Love becomes the organizing principle of every field of knowledge, the ‘grand unified theory’ of the lovers’ universe. The volume is described as an all-encompassing alchemical book, an «all-graved tome»6 (l. 20), mysterious and secretive, sacred and profane, granting both eternal life and oblivion. In Cesare Ripa’s emblem book Iconologia, “memory” (memoria) is described as a woman dressed all in black, holding a pen in her right hand and a book in her left (Ripa 1992 [1603]: 271). The book is also an important symbol in the emblem “study” (studio), wherein a young man attentively reads an open book which he holds in his left hand, illustrating that steady application of the mind reveals the soul’s disposition to the cognition of things. With his right hand he holds a pen, symbolizing his intention of leaving – through the act of writing – a memory of himself behind (Ripa 1992 [1603]: 429). Ripa quotes here Persius’s first satire: scire tuum nihil est, nisi te scire hoc sciat alter? (“Is all your knowledge to go so utterly for nothing unless other people know that you possess it?”, Pers. Sat. I, 27)7. The two emblems memoria and studio are somehow mirror-like: the images they represent, whether Donne was acquainted with Ripa’s work or not, are to be found again in the structure of A Valediction: of the Booke, the first part of which revolves around the idea of the woman as writer (memoria), whereas the second focuses on the male poet as careful reader (studio). Indeed one’s utmost heedfulness is required to enter into the textual world of the valediction itself, to keep Donne’s mannerist rhetoric at bay; to make sense of the satirical vein of many of his lines; to appreciate the bafflingly inconclusive 6 «[T]otally engraved, i.e., not expressible in ordinary print» (Robbins, in Donne 2010: 270). Cf. also OED ‘engrave’: “2. b. To mark by incisions; to inscribe with incised characters; to ornament with incised marks./ 3. c. To impress deeply; to fix indelibly”. 7 Transl. by G.G. Ramsay. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 58 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI book metaphor he has been so scrupulously trying to construct. In this respect, John Donne might be regarded as belonging, like Persius, to the tradition of the poeta obscurus: the aesthetics of obscurity crucially occupying, as Jan M. Ziolkowski (1996: 101) has suggested, «a central point on the dividing-line between the poetic and the prosaic, between poetry and prose, between the ordinary and the extraordinary». 3. AND OBSCURE HER. LOVE, FAME AND OBLIVION. DONNE’S MULIERES DOCTAE The first stanza of A Valediction: of the Booke reconciles immortal poetic glory with the inevitability of cultural forgetting. The speaker explains to his mistress how she can flout the laws of a troublesome destiny, thus achieving a more enduring fame than that of her illustrious – and unnamed – predecessors: I’ll tell thee now (deare Love) what thou shalt doe To anger destiny, as she doth us, How I shall stay, though she esloygne me thus, And how posterity shall know it too: How thine may out-endure Sybills glory, and obscure Her who from Pindar could allure, And her, through whose helpe Lucan is not lame, And her, whose booke (they say) Homer did find, and name. (ll. 1-9) Through the anaphoric construction of the three concluding lines of the stanza, the speaker situates his beloved at the end of a list of four women of the classical tradition, whose names, however, are left unsaid. They are Corinna, the Greek poetess who allegedly defeated Pindar in a poetic competition; Polla Argentaria, who helped her husband Lucan complete his poem Bellum Civile; and the legendary Egyptian priestess Phantasia, who is said to have written the first draft Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 59 of the Iliad and the Odyssey8. The only explicitly named woman is the first one on the list, presumably the Cumaean Sibyl of Virgil’s Aeneid, Apollo’s mouthpiece, known for the obscure ambiguity of her responses9. The word ‘obscure’ itself (l. 6) is a key term of the stanza, since it hints at the threat of forgetting and oblivion which the poet so cunningly seeks to prevent. The three unnamed women form a group of their own in the stanza – since they are all connected through the use of the polysyndeton And her..., thus creating the impression that this list of forgotten women is not exhaustive, but rather samples an unknowably longer one. Corinna, Polla, and Phantasia are probably ordered in accordance with their degree of fame, from the most famous to the most forgotten. 8 Cf. Gardner (in Donne 1965: 193) and Robbins (in Donne 2010: 269-270) for a thorough account of the classical sources to which Donne alludes in this stanza. The story of the competition between Pindar and Corinna, poetess of Thebes, is narrated by Aelian (Var. Hist. XIII, 25). A letter by Sidonius Apollinaris (Epist. II, 10, 6) is the main source for the tradition according to which Polla Argentaria, Lucan’s wife, had an essential role in the completion of the Pharsalia. The legend of Phantasia is reported by two sources: Photius’s Bibliotheca (Augsburg 1601; Latin translation: Augsburg 1606), from Ptolemy Ephaestion or ‘Chennos’, and the preface by Eustathius of Thessalonica to his commentary on the Odyssey (Rome 1542-50; reprint Basel 1559-60; not translated into Latin). The story of Phantasia was also mentioned by the Flemish humanist Justus Lipsius (De Bibliothecis Syntagma 1, Antwerp 1602, p. 10), from Eustathius. 9 Verg. Aen. VI, 9-12; 42-53; 98-101. But it is in Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue that the Cumaen Sibyl is most clearly described as a writer, as the author of a poem announcing a new Golden Age: Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas; / magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo (Verg. Ecl. IV, 4-5. “Now is come the last age of the song of Cumae; / the great line of the centuries begins anew”, transl. by H. Rushton Fairclough). The Sibyl is a prophetic poetess also in Horace’s Carmen saeculare: tempore sacro / quo Sibyllini monuere versus (ll. 45. “at the holy season / when the verses of the Sibyl have commanded”, transl. by C.E. Bennett). The Cumaean Sibyl was often portrayed in Renaissance art as a woman holding a book in her hand (for example by Andrea del Castagno, Michelangelo, Raphael, Domenichino). For a preliminary, though thorough, account of medieval depictions of Virgil and the Sibyl as prophets see Joyner (2008: 453-457). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 60 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI Moreover, the syntactic parallel between the latter pair (polysyndeton + genitive + name of the male author + verb) elicits a deeper commonality: both Polla and Phantasia saw their work fall into the shadow of the name of a male poet. The Sibyl has perhaps been consigned to the same fate; since Constantine and Lactantius interpreted Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue as a prophecy of Christianity, the subsequent medieval commentators «included Virgil among those who foresaw the birth of Christ [...]. Yet other authorities, such as Augustine, regarded the Cumaean Sibyl [...] as being the true prophet» (Joyner 2008: 453). The value of the first stanza lies exactly in this original reflection on the workings of fame for women; these extremely erudite lines seem to ask what is their place in what Aleida Assmann (2011: 45) defines as «[t]he dialectics of rejection and acceptance, forgetting and remembering [that] is at the heart of what we understand by ‘Renaissance’». With the exception of Phantasia, who was probably a very obscure reference even during Donne’s lifetime, these women were often featured in the catalogues of mulieres doctae (“learned women”) included in many a learned compendium by humanist antiquarians, such as Baptiste Fulgose’s Factorum Dictorumque Memorabilium Libri IX (Venice, 1483), Ravisius Textor’s Theatrum poeticum atque historicum, sive Officina (Paris, 1520) and Barthélemy de Chasseneuz’s Catalogus gloriae mundi (Lyons, 1529), each of which was repeatedly reprinted. Donne might have been familiar with one or more of these catalogues, whose tradition and legacy has been explored by Jean Céard (1999). If these lists of women made accessible to a wider audience the notion of mulier docta in the Renaissance, these representations were complicated by issues of male gaze and consequently rendered quite ambivalent10. 10 Cf. Céard (1999) and, for a general discussion, Assmann (2011: 52): «As long as entry into the cultural memory is conditioned by heroism or canonization, women systematically disappear into cultural oblivion. It is a classic case of structural amnesia». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 61 This same situation was brilliantly exposed in the ensuing decades by another English poet, Abraham Cowley (1618-1667): Of Female Poets, who had Names of old, Nothing is shown, but only Told, And all we hear of them perhaps may be Male-Flatt’ry only, and Male-Poetry11. In this respect, it is somewhat ironic that the speaker of Donne’s valediction tempts his lady with promises of a fame modelled after that of women about whom the readers know so little12. Through the use of allusion in (un)naming three learned women of antiquity, the speaker makes the reader question the very concept of ‘fame’. He does so by underlining the subtle difference between living, immortal glory and mere presence in the cultural ‘archive’13. Although the Renaissance successfully revalued the role of fame, cherishing «the hope of immortality through cultural achievements» (Assmann 2011: 36), Donne appears to cast doubt on this optimistic view as soon as he embraces it. Moreover, a distinctive feature of Songs and Sonnets is that Donne never names the lady of his love poems; there is no Cynthia, Laura, Astrea, Elizabeth, or Stella to venerate and immortalize, no name to 11 Abraham Cowley, On the Death of Mrs Katherine Philips (1667), quoted in Stevenson (2005: 7). 12 Cf. also Elizabeth D. Harvey’s observations about this first stanza (1996: 7980). For Harvey, Donne’s rhetoric restores the woman «on the margins of discourse, where she is confined as the nameless, faceless handmaiden to poetic accomplishment» (1996: 80). It is important to point out that the reader of Donne’s valediction might well have been a mulier docta of his time: in a richly detailed study, Jane Stevenson (2005) has explored the fascinating history of women Latinists in Europe, cf. in particular Chapter 10 on sixteenth-century England. 13 I follow here Assmann’s definition of “archive” as a place of memory: «In contrast to the sensually concrete memory linked to bodies and places, the archive exists independently of both, and so remains abstract and general. A precondition for its existence as a collective store of knowledge is a material data-carrier that must function as a support, above all, for the written word» (Assmann 2011: 12). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 62 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI remember14. As Targoff suggests, Donne is much more inclined to describe the immediacy, precariousness, and mutuality of the love relationship, rather than the timelessness of love or the perfect, goddess-like qualities of his mistress15. Consequently, it is not surprising that the object of A Valediction: of the Booke is not at all the speaker’s passionate love for his woman, but the written proof of their affectionate liaison. In this regard, it is also highly significant that the task of writing is a work appointed to the woman, though the extent of the latter’s autonomy in the project is far from clear: is she an independent author or just a subordinate copyist? Given that «the unconventional brilliance of Donne’s love poems arises (at least in part) from his unprecedented capacity to elicit and articulate and respond to the woman’s point of view» (Bell 1983: 116), the latent ambiguity of the conceited themes displayed in A Valediction: of the Booke does not give us sufficient evidence to determine whose perspective is being presented here. 4. THENCE WRITE OUR ANNALS. THE BOOK AS A LASTING TOKEN OF LOVE In the second stanza the speaker proceeds to give his beloved some general instructions on the task she is to fulfil; the starting point for her research is their collection of love letters, which will provide the primary source of what seems to be an unassailable, indisputable, and entirely reliable historiographical project: 14 However, as Robbins (in Donne 2010: 270) points out, the noun Annals could be interpreted as a «submerged pun on Ann», the name of Donne’s wife. If the pun were intended, the noun Annals would almost appear as the fitting title for a ‘love epic’. 15 «What distinguishes Donne as a love poet is not his joyful assurance that his love will endure. What distinguishes him is at once the intensity of the pleasure he conveys in the moment of mutual love, and the ferocity with which he attempts to prolong that moment for as long as he can, knowing full well that its end may be near» (Targoff 2008: 49). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 63 Study our manuscripts, those Myriades Of letters, which have past twixt thee and mee, Thence write our Annals, and in them will bee, To all whom loves subliming fire invades, Rule and example found; There, the faith of any ground No schismatique will dare to wound, That sees, how Love this grace to us affords, To make, to keep, to use, to be these his Records. (ll. 10-18) As the second stanza makes it clear, the real commissioner of the book is Love personified, whose powerful agency allows the transitory, individual experience of the lovers to become a universal metaphor for future generations to come. The personification of love occurs also in another celebrated poem of Songs and Sonnets, The Canonization, in which we find it set in the same collaborative partnership with the immortalizing power of the written text, able to transform private love into a religious idol to be devoutly worshipped once the lovers leave this world behind: Wee can dye by it, if not live by love, And if unfit for tombes or hearse Our legend bee, it will be fit for verse; And if no peece of Chronicle wee prove, We’ll build in sonnets pretty roomes; As well a well wrought urne becomes The greatest ashes, as halfe-acre tombes, And by these hymnes, all shall approve Us Canoniz’d for Love. (The Canonization, ll. 28-36) The «pretty roomes» of the above-quoted poem appear to have the same function as a funerary urn16, forever containing the two lovers’s mortal remains. The “Booke” of the valediction, thanks to the pun on 16 A similar image occurs in the poem The Extasie, where the lovers are compared to sepulchrall statues (l. 18). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 64 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI the word “tome” (l. 20), does also play a similar ‘tomb-like’ role, as will be shown in the next section. In both poems, the construction of a private world which could eventually overcome the defined limits of human existence is described as a mutual undertaking of lover and beloved. The “Myriades of letters” which the lady must attentively peruse represent the final product of the lovers’ affection. The act of letter-writing was of paramount importance for John Donne throughout his whole life (for a thorough account, see Targoff 2008, chapter II). The letter was for Donne a token of material presence, a means to communicate his thoughts and feelings to absent friends – see, for example, one of the two fascinating verse epistles «To Sir Henry Wotton», starting with the lines «Sir, more then kisses, letters mingle Soules; / For, thus friends absent speake» (ll. 1-2). Since, as Ilona Bell underlines (1986: 25), «[d]espite the multitude of Donne letters, scholars lament the complete absence of any correspondence with Ann More»17, we must hesitate to interpret the lines of the second stanza of A Valediction: of the Booke with too close a reference to the poet’s biographical details. Nonetheless, the importance Donne placed on his personal correspondence more generally is crucial for a thorough appreciation of the valediction’s second stanza: it is the profound intimacy and the loving reciprocity of the epistolary exchange which makes the resultant book so valuable and precious for the future reader, who will have the privilege of handling a sacred text whose orthodoxy cannot be easily contested: «There, the faith of any ground / No schismatique will dare to wound» (ll. 15-16). Not only does the metaphor draw from the contemporary time of religious turmoil, but, by introducing in the text such an unpoetical term as schismatique – used also in another poem of the collection, The Will (l. 20) – Donne conflates the troubling macrocosm of historical time with the untouchable and unchangeable microcosm of the lovers’ experience. The “Booke” ensures that this ‘little world’ will outlive 17 Bell (1986), however, identifies three letters included in Evelyn Simpson’s Study of the Prose Works of John Donne (1924) in which Anne More is the most probable addressee. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 65 their earthly life, in the indelible “Records” of a written and hence (re)readable volume. Yet, for the text to live, the Author(s) must die. What really counts in A Valediction: of the Booke is not the expression of a subjective passion, but rather the creation of «a writing that can know no halt: life never does more than imitate the book, and the book itself is only a tissue of signs, an imitation that is lost, infinitely deferred» (Barthes 1984: 147). By referring to the four women of the classical world in the first stanza, moreover, the speaker of Donne’s poem inscribes the text in that «multi-dimensional space in which a variety of writings, none of them original, blend and clash» (Barthes 1984: 146). The fantasy of numbering the beloved’s work among those of the learned women of antiquity, of her overwriting the achievements of her illustrious predecessors, might be thought of in terms of Assman’s palimpsest metaphor in which the superposition of writings in the human mind «makes the new the grave of the old» (2011: 143). In the third stanza, the “Booke” is described as a secret text, written in ciphers, but also as a sepulchre: the death of the lover-authors allows the opening up of endless interpretative possibilities for the “Booke”, the product of their creative passion, upon which no definitive meaning can be bestowed; yet it is the endless striving for this ultimate meaning which grants the “Booke” its immortality. 5. THIS ALL-GRAVED TOME, / IN CYPHER WRITE THE BOOK AS A SECRET TEXT WORLD OF IMMORTALITY The third stanza of A Valediction: of the Booke is the most important of the whole poem, both structurally and thematically. The speaker describes the book as a mysterious volume inscrutable to all but those capable of understanding the new language devised by the lovers18. It 18 A similar concept of love’s secrecy is expressed by the speaker of A Valediction forbidding Mourning: «‘Twere prophanation of our joyes / To tell the layetie our love» (ll. 7-8). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 66 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI is a highly inaccessible text that may, if properly read, open up the doors of universal knowledge: This Booke, as long-liv’d as the elements, Or as the worlds forme, this all-graved tome, In cypher write, or new made Idiome; Wee for loves clergie only’are instruments. When this booke is made thus, Should againe the ravenous Vandals and Goths inundate us, Learning were safe; in this our Universe Schooles might learn Sciences, Spheares Musick, Angels Verse. (ll. 19-27) The coexistence of different disciplines within the book can be read along the lines of Neoplatonic philosophy, as Donald L. Guss remarks (1966: 144-5). One of the Neoplatonic texts mentioned by Guss is Guido Casoni’s Della magia d’amore (1596), the frontispiece of which lists a long series of arts and professions in which Love manifests itself: «Nella quale si dimostra come Amore sia Metafisico, Fisico, Astrologo, Musico, Geometra, Aritmetico, Grammatico, Dialetico, Rettore, Poeta, Historiografo, Iurisconsulto, Politico»19. Casoni’s catalogue is much longer, including some twenty-seven professions in all. Love’s all-encompassing influence over the other human activities is a distinctive motif of A Valediction: of the Booke. Building on this theme, the ensuing three stanzas set out to demonstrate with a satirical touch how the lovers’ book of love might be the invaluable source of knowledge for the followers of different professions, from “Loves Divines” (l. 28) to “Lawyers” (l. 37) to “Statesmen” (l. 46): they will all be provided with their ultimate ‘rule book’. 19 «The book demonstrates how Love is a Metaphysician, a Physicist, an Astrologist, a Musician, a Surveyor, an Arithmetician, a Grammarian, a Dialectician, a Rector, a Poet, a Historiographer, a Jurisconsult, a Politician [...]» (Translation mine). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 67 The “Booke” seems to contain both text and images («this allgraved tome, in cypher write20, or new made Idiome» ll. 20-21). The language ought to be secretive, or at least unfamiliar to the untrained readers: the brief description of the «all-graved tome» resembles that of an alchemical book21, drawing heavily from the rich tradition of the Renaissance emblems, mixing the visual with the textual dimension to become «a repository for secret wisdom» whose «resulting obscurity [often] precludes intelligibility without the assistance of all the components, as well as of highly specialized knowledge» (Linden 1995: 19-20; see also Holmyard 1957). The emblem was considered to be the most perfect and complete artistic form in the Renaissance for its conflation of the two sister arts, pictura and poësis, representing respectively the ‘corporeal’ and the ‘spiritual’ essence of human creativity22. The emblem is consequently Donne’s ideal way of expressing «the fantasy of being fully present» (Targoff 2008: 21), even after the inevitable dissolution that death brings about. With their overt, primary focus on separation and absence, all the four valedictions of the Songs and Sonnets foreshadow the ‘last parting’ in their choice of words and images. In A Valediction: Of the Booke, the juxtaposition of the adjective ‘all-graved’ with the noun ‘tome’ is extremely cunning in this respect, both words hinting simultaneously at the extended metaphor of the book and at the afterlife imagery so recurrent in the Songs and Sonnets. The same coexistence of emblem, book, and burial images can be found in Shakespeare’s sonnet 77, which Assmann (2011: 176-179) discusses as an example of the «optimistic faith in the conservational powers of writing» in the Renaissance. With «a very tutorial frame of mind» (Rowse, in 20 The verb write is a disputed variant. In other editions (see Patrides, in Donne 1985) the past participle writ is preferred to the imperative write: «this all-graved tome / In cypher writ» (ll. 20-21). 21 Cf. Donne’s elegy XIX, To His Mistress Going to Bed, where women are compared to «mystick books» for «lay-men» (ll. 40-41). 22 For a thorough discussion of the relationship between word and image in the Renaissance, see Innocenti (1983; 1996). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 68 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI Shakespeare 1964: 157), the speaker of this sonnet recommends the ‘fair youth’ to fill a blank book with the thoughts which arise from his contemplation of vanitas objects, such as the glass and the dial: Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear, Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste; The vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear, And of this book this learning mayst thou taste: The wrinkles which thy glass will truly show Of mouthèd graves will give thee memory; Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst know Time’s thievish progress to eternity. (Sonnet 77, ll. 1-8) In Shakespeare’s sonnet, the book, filled with memento mori reflections, has the exclusively private function of making the young man aware of the passage of time. It is a volume bound to be read by the ‘fair youth’ alone, so that he may develop a more mature stand in the face of the transience of the human mortal condition Look, what thy memory cannot contain Commit to these waste blanks, and thou shalt find Those children nursed, delivered from thy brain, To take a new acquaintance of thy mind. These offices, so oft as thou wilt look, Shall profit thee and much enrich thy book. (Sonnet 77, ll. 9-14) While for Shakespeare the book functions as a reminder of human mortality, the «all-graved tome» of Donne’s valediction plays defiantly with death images in order to reassert with rhetorical strength and persuasion the immortality of the lovers’ passion. In Donne’s conceited argumentation, the book becomes an engraved tome/tomb which will last as long as the elements and the “worlds forme”. This is an undoubtedly powerful formulation, of ambiguous and baffling complexity, probably referring to the perfect, universal harmony between the macrocosm and the human microcosm, on whose principles of exact correspondence much Neoplatonic Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 69 philosophy and alchemical theories are founded. It is not by chance that the speaker stresses the fact that the book enables the construction of a “Universe”, the centre of a new cultural power capable of resisting the ferocious invasions of future barbarians. Ultimately, however, the elusive expression “worlds forme” resists any attempt of definition: as Angela Leighton (2007: 3) suggests, the success of the word ‘form’ in literary and critical texts derives precisely from its subtle, Protean attributes: «Although it looks like a fixed shape, a permanent configuration or ideal, whether in eternity, in the mind, or on the page, in fact form is versatile. It remains open to distant senses, distortions, to the push-and-pull of opposites or cognates». The “Booke” the poet envisages is a universal project of world formation: the scope of this enterprise is so vast and all-embracing that the textual world thus created is ruled by the paradox that ‘everything’ and ‘nothing’ come to signify the same ‘thing’, i.e. ‘nothing’ at all. Jonathan Culler (1982: 98) suggests that «[t]he value and force of a text may depend to a considerable extent on the way it deconstructs the philosophy that subtends it». The structure of A Valediction: of the Booke, ending with the apparent sceptical recantation of the whole preceding reasoning, similarly contains the seeds of its own undoing. Everything that can be created and expressed by language – love, life, death – may easily amount to ‘nothing’ as soon as the bound between soul and body, lover and beloved, is being menaced. 6. NOTHING BUT A “BOOKE”. BEYOND MATERIAL AND IMMATERIAL The fourth, fifth, and sixth stanza of A Valediction: of the Book form a single unit within the poem: each of them is marked by a satirical vein, typical of the early Donne; the language of these stanzas is a mixture of poetic and prosaic elements which, besides being a salient feature of rhetorical obscurity, expresses a critical stance on religious, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 70 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI bureaucratic and political power. The love poet does not ignore the real social forces but brings them into the picture by questioning their effective power. The speaker pungently describes the response that his mistress’s book ought to generate in three main groups of future readers: “Loves Divines”, “Lawyers”, and “Statesman”, most probably ranked in a decreasing order of abstractness (the Neoplatonic degradatio)23. One of the distinctive features of Songs and Sonnets is the impossibility of tracking down one single, constantly identifiable speaker: as Virginia Woolf observes, «we cannot see how so many different qualities meet together in one man» (2009: 361). The voice of A Valediction: of the Booke shows all this chameleon-like potential in the short space of twenty-seven lines: from the Neoplatonic perspective of the fourth stanza, in which the speaker explains the advantages and disadvantages of embodied love, moving on to the misogynistic stance of the fifth, which condemns the vainness and unreliability of fickle women, eventually ending with the almost nihilistic remarks of the sixth, where lovers and statesmen seem to face the same meaningless ‘nothing’. All three stanzas are introduced by the adverb of place Here, transforming the book into a ‘locus’ of universal learning: Here Loves Divines, (since all Divinity Is love or wonder) may finde all they seeke, 23 This catalogue brings to mind the first monologue of Christopher Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus (Scene I), another Renaissance text where the symbolism of the book is paramount (Cf. Matalene III 1973; Budra 1991). Upon first entering the scene, Faustus seems to be glancing through his books so as to decide in which area of knowledge to «settle his studies». One after another he discards all the possible options: logician, physician, jurist, divine, statesman; building up such a climax, he finally decides to become a magician («These metaphysics of magicians / And necromantic books are heavenly»; «A sound magician is a demigod; / Here tire, my brains, to get a deity» Scene I, 48-49 and 61-62). Mephostophilis will give him the book of the new art (Scene V), a compendium of universal knowledge, where Faustus will find everything that he wishes to know, thus it is a volume resembling the one described in A Valediction: of the Booke. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 71 Whether abstract spirituall love they like, Their Soules exhal’d with what they do not see, Or, loth so to amuze Faiths infirmitie, they chuse Something which they may see and use; For, though minde be the heaven, where love doth sit, Beauty’a convenient type may be to figure it. (ll. 28-36) This stanza might be viewed as a compendium of the theories of love described in other poems of Songs and Sonnets, like Aire and Angels and The Extasie, both revolving around the necessity of uniting carnal and spiritual love: the former expressible in a visible dimension, the latter only imaginable in a metaphysical realm. The fifth stanza is marked by the inclusion of many un-poetic words drawn from the specialist vocabulary of legal language24: “prerogative”, “states”, “subsidies”. In the face of the increasing specialization of human knowledge, the “Booke” appears to reclaim that alien terminology for the lovers’ own use and so make legal language dependent on the language of love: Here more then in their bookes may Lawyers finde, Both by what titles Mistresses are ours, And how prerogative those states devours, Transferr’d from Love himselfe, to womankind, Who though from heart, and eyes, They exact great subsidies, Forsake him who on them relies, And for the cause, honour, or conscience give, Chimeraes, vaine as they, or their prerogative. (ll. 37-45) 24 Donne plays with legal language from the outset by using the term esloygne (l. 3), with the meaning “To convey or remove out of the jurisdiction of the court or of the sheriff” (OED, II. 2). As Robbins observes (in Donne 2010: 269), «this is one of the French legal terms used by Sir John Davies, Gulling Sonnets 8. 12 (1594-6), his parody of the jargon-laden anonymous sonnet-sequence Zepheria (1594)». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 72 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI The sixth stanza brings together love and politics: what the two ‘disciplines’ have in common is the elusiveness of their subject matter («Love and their art [statesmanship] alike it deadly wounds, / If to consider what ‘tis, one proceed», ll. 48-49). The changes in language brought about by the scientific progress of the period are most evident in the final word of the stanza, “Alchimy”, used here as «a stock example of trickery» (Robbins, in Donne 2010: 272). This negative connotation of the term clashes with the positive alchemical imagery of the preceding stanzas, consistent with the coexistence of the old and the new which always characterises a transitional period of crisis and revolution. In such an uncertain age, excellent lovers and politicians appear to be those «who the present governe well» (l. 51): Here Statesmen, (or of them, they which can reade,) May of their occupation finde the grounds. Love and their art alike it deadly wounds, If to consider what ‘tis, one proceed: In both they doe excell Who the present governe well, Whose weaknesse none doth, or dares tell; In this thy booke, such will their nothing see, As in the Bible some can finde out Alchimy. (ll. 46-54) The symbolism of the book is not the central preoccupation of the three stanzas just quoted: in this part of the poem, the “Booke” serves the purpose of identifying three categories of readership that act as ‘foils’ of the passionate lovers. The speaker defines love, the main topic of their “Booke”, by contrasting its essence with the sterile spirituality of the “Loves Divines”, the labyrinthine, shrewd rhetoric of “Lawyers” which resembles the vows of unfaithful mistresses, and the short-sightedness and ignorance of rulers, whose ‘nothingness’ make them paradoxically equal to the two lovers. Both categories have to cope with the insignificance of their status when faced with the overwhelming power of love that the book, as established in the first three stanzas, so clearly ought to express. As Marotti puts it Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 73 (1986: 171), «this poem […] was a fictional counterpoise to a disturbing actuality». With this valediction, the speaker takes leave from the world, from this troubling ‘actuality’. Every act of writing is after all, Hélène Cixous suggests, «an act that suppresses the world. We annihilate the world with a book» (Cixous 1993: 19). In her lecture on The School of the Dead, Cixous talks about the authors she loves, whom she describes as «writers of extremity, those who take themselves to the extremes of experience, thought, life»: they all share a «desire to die», which is «the desire to know; […] the desire to enjoy» (Cixous 1993: 34). Donne may be equally described as a poet «of extremity»: the ‘nothing’ revealed by the book of the valediction can be understood as «The thing that is both known and unknown, the most unknown and the best unknown, this is what we are looking for when we write» (Cixous 1993: 38). This moment of ambiguous revelation comes often, in Donne’s poetry, at the moment of dying25: it is the same kind of negative knowledge that we find, for example, at the beginning of A Valediction: forbidding Mourning – with its memorable image of the “virtuous men” (l. 1) on their deathbed – or at the end of A Nocturnall upon S. Lucies Day, being the shortest day26. The valediction, as a poetic form itself, has the pragmatic function of taking leave, of bidding farewell to one’s beloved: the separation is a metaphoric preparation to death and, hence, an act engendering the greatest anxiety imaginable, a real condition of suffering which cannot possibly be placated by the powerful, soothing images which language evokes. From time to time I like to think of this valediction as a visual poem, since the typographical arrangement of each stanza vaguely recalls the shape of an open book. 25 It is important to recall that, as stated in the OED (I. 7. d.), the verb to die was “[m]ost common as a poetical metaphor in the late 16th and 17th cent”, with the meaning “To experience a sexual orgasm”. 26 For a close reading of A Nocturnall along these lines, see Nichols (2011), whose article revolves around the possible influence of Dionysian negative theology on Donne’s poem. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 74 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI 7. BUT ABSENCE TRYES HOW LONG THIS LOVE WILL BEE. CONCLUSION. The concluding stanza seems to test the significance of the extended book metaphor: once absence threatens the solidity of the lover’s union, the “all-graved tome” is the only means to keep the relationship intact: the act of reading re-establishes the bond that the act of separation unmade. Although the tone of the last lines is far from optimistic, it manages to convey the sense of existential doubt induced by the speaker’s coming to terms with the death-like ‘nothing’ of the penultimate stanza, the dimension of endless meaning-making, where no ‘forms’ can be ever perceived. In this domain of absence, of shapeless possibilities, the bearing cannot be given by luminous stars and it is thus the “darke eclipses” that provide the speaker with the essential point of reference: Thus vent thy thoughts; abroad I’ll studie thee, As he removes farre off, that great heights takes; How great love is, presence best tryall makes, But absence tryes how long this love will bee; To take a latitude Sun, or stares, are fitliest view’d At their brightest, but to conclude Of longitudes, what other way have wee, But to marke when, and where the darke eclipses bee? (ll. 55-63) Through the act of reading, the incorporeal text of the absent female writer is invested with a new body – that of the male reader’s – thus recreating the union jeopardized by the latter’s departure. Donne’s argumentation is rendered even more innovative by his overturning of the traditional sexual connotations of the writing metaphor held by many cultures, whereby «[t]he writing instrument itself denotes masculinity (pen = penis), whereas the writing surface is the ‘matrix’, and the white paper is virgin – therefore, feminine» (Assmann 2011: 141). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 75 The real fascination of the poem, however, arises from the scepticism cast upon the whole conceit. The speaker is not fully confident that the disquieting void created by absence can be really overcome. Moving towards death, bringing oneself to the extremes of the human condition is a life-threatening enterprise. Yet, the «point where blindness and light meet» (Cixous 1993: 38), the «lovely glorious nothing» of Donne’s Aire and Angels (l. 6), is precisely ‘somewhere else’, in that uncharted territory which we try to access every time we write or read. It is a step towards death and ultimate love, both, until the very end, unattainable. The “Booke” keeps record of this endless quest, instilling in both writers and readers the possibility of immortality. As stated succinctly by Drew Leder (1990: 123), «Language, as concretized in the text, leaves behind its voice of origin, is able to live on through the centuries, to be instantiated unchanged in an indefinite number of locales». Università degli Studi di Udine Dipartimento di Lingue e Letterature Straniere [email protected] BIBLIOGRAPHY Assmann, A. 2011 Cultural Memory and Western Civilization, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Barthes, R. 1984 Image, Music, Text, translated from the French by S. Heath, London, Flamingo. Bell, I. 1983 The Role of the Lady in Donne’s Songs and Sonets, in «Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900», 23, pp. 113-129. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 76 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI 1986 Under ye rage of a hott sonn & yr eyes: John Donne’s Love Letters to Ann More, in Summers, C.J. – Pebworth, T. (eds.), The Eagle and the Dove: Reassessing John Donne, Columbia, University of Missouri Press, pp. 25-52. Białostocki, J. 1988 The Message of Images: Studies in the History of Art, Vienna, IRSA. Budra, P. 1991 Doctor Faustus: Death «Connotations», 1.1, pp. 1-11. of a Bibliophile, in Céard, J. 1999 Listes de femmes savantes au XVIe siècle, in Nativel, C. (ed.), Femmes savantes, savoirs des femmes : du crépuscule de la Renaissance à l’aube des Lumières : actes du Colloque de Chantilly, 22-24 septembre 1995, Genève, Librairie Droz, pp. 8594. Cixous, H. 1993 Three Steps on the Ladder of Writing, translated from the French by S. Cornell and S. Sellers, New York, Columbia University Press. 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Harvey, E.D. 1996 Ventriloquizing Sappho, or the Lesbian Muse, in Greene E. (ed.), Re-Reading Sappho: Reception and Transmission, Berkeley, University of California Press, pp. 79-104. Holmyard, E.J. 1957 Alchemy, Harmondsworth, Penguin. Innocenti, L. 1983 Vis eloquentiae. Emblematica e persuasione, Palermo, Sellerio. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 78 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI 1996 Parola e immagine nel Rinascimento, in Marenco, F. (ed.), Storia della civiltà letteraria inglese, I, Torino, UTET, pp. 588-603. Joyner, D. 2008 Portraits of Prophetic Virgil and the Sibyl, in Ziolkowski, J.M. – Putnam, M.C.J. (eds.), The Virgilian Tradition: The First Fifteen Hundred Years, New Haven, Yale University Press, pp. 453-457. Leder, D. 1990 The Absent Body, Chicago, Chicago University Press. Leighton, A. 2007 On Form: Poetry, Aestheticism, and Legacy of a Word, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Linden, S.J. 1995 Alchemical Art and the Renaissance Emblem, in Mulvey Roberts, M. – Ormsby-Lennonm H. (eds.), Secret Texts: The Literature of Secret Societies, New York, AMS Press, pp. 7-23. Marlowe, C. 1965 Doctor Faustus, edited by J.D. Jump, London, Routledge. Marotti, A.F. 1986 John Donne, Coterie Poet, Madison, University of Wisconsin Press. Matalene III, H.W. 1972 Marlowe’s Faustus and the Comforts of Academicism, in «English Literary History», 39.4, pp. 495-519. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 A READING OF JOHN DONNE 79 Nichols, J.L. 2011 Dionysian Negative Theology in Donne’s A Nocturnall upon S. Lucies Day, in «Texas Studies in Literature and Language», 53.3, pp. 352-367. Pettegree, A. 2010 The Book in the Renaissance, New Haven, Yale University Press. Ripa, C. 1992 [1603] Iconologia, edited by P. Buscaroli, foreword by M. Praz, Milano, TEA [1603, Iconologia. Overo descrittione di diverse imagini cavate dall’antichità, & di propria invention, Roma, appresso Lepido Facii]. Shakespeare, W. 1964 Sonnets, edited by A.L. Rowse, London, Macmillan. Stevenson, J. 2005 Women Latin Poets: Language, Gender and Authority from Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Targoff, R. 2008 John Donne, Body and Soul, Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Wollman, R.B. 1993 The “Press and the Fire”: Print and Manuscript Culture in Donne’s Circle, in «Studies in English Literature, 1500-1900», 33.1, pp. 85-97. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 80 BENEDETTO PASSARETTI Woolf, V. 2009 The Essays, 5 vols., vol. V, edited by Stuart Nelson Clarke, London, Hogarth. Ziolkowski, J.M. 1996 Theories of Obscurity in the Latin Tradition, in «Mediaevalia», 19: 101-170. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN BLAKE’S SONGS OF INNOCENCE AND OF EXPERIENCE MARTINA ZAMPARO ABSTRACT The aim of this essay is to demonstrate that William Blake’s collection Songs of Innocence and of Experience. Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul (1789-1794) can be read in the light of Neoplatonism. From this perspective, Innocence and Experience are not completely opposed but, rather, intertwined in a more complex and fascinating way. As the human soul experiences a rebirth after its descent in the so-called world of generation, so man can be born again, in a higher and purer form, after his immersion in the world of Experience. According to this reading, based on the Eleusinian Mysteries and Plotinus’s and Porphyry’s works, Blake’s aim is not to recover the world described by the Songs of Innocence, because the real Innocence he alludes to is the spiritual and moral wisdom man will achieve after his journey through the two stages of existence. 1. INTRODUCTION William Blake’s composite collection Songs of Innocence and of Experience. Shewing the Two Contrary States of the Human Soul is the product of a long and elaborate work that lasts several years, from 1789 to 1794. This essay is an attempt to demonstrate that the collection acquires extra value if read in the light of the Eleusinian Mysteries and of the Neoplatonic concepts Blake found in Thomas Taylor’s works. As a matter of fact, it is generally assumed that Taylor Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 82 MARTINA ZAMPARO provides the poet with the translations of the most celebrated Neoplatonic writings1. As claimed by Harper and Raine, the first to remark Blake’s indebtedness to Taylor is Damon (1969) «and no serious Blake scholar has since denied it» (Harper – Raine 1969: 3). In 1928, Pierce discovered a series of connections between Taylor’s and Blake’s works, stating that «the Neo Platonism of the poet so consistently develops just behind that of the scholar, that some form of influence seems almost unquestionable» (Pierce 1928: 1121)2. In recent years, Harper has focused on the most evident influences of Taylor’s translations on the poet’s so-called ‘Prophetic Books’: «I am convinced that Taylor is a primary source of Blake’s ideas in the important formative years before and during the writing of the early Prophetic Books» (Harper 1961: vii). Since the ‘Prophetic Books’ are considered on the whole as a summa of Blake’s ideas, it seems likely that the same Neoplatonic influences can be detected also in Blake’s earlier works, namely in the Songs of Innocence and of Experience. Among the writings by Taylor that most attract Blake’s attention is the Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries (Amsterdam [London] 1790-1791). It has also been claimed that Blake probably owned one of the replicas of the so-called ‘Portland Vase’, whose symbols might be interpreted as a representation of the Eleusinian 1 «It was Thomas Taylor who took upon himself, at the close of the eighteenth century, the task of placing before his contemporaries the canonical Platonic writings […]. Taylor’s translations were the texts, his interpretations the guide. Flaxman and probably Blake were close friends of Taylor during the formative years of all three» (Harper – Raine 1969: 8). As claimed by Raine (1970: 36), Blake might also have had the chance to attend Taylor’s lectures on Neoplatonism at Flaxman’s house. Furthermore, Taylor’s translations might have been available to Blake even before their publication (Raine 1968: 393). 2 «In some cases there may have been other sources available, in some there certainly were not; but for all cases under discussion Taylor was a possible source, sometimes, apparently, the only one. Even where Blake could have drawn from other writers, it seems improbable that he did» (Pierce 1928: 1122). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 83 Mysteries3. It should be noted that Taylor seems to link Plotinus to the tradition of the Eleusinian Mysteries4. Indeed, Taylor might have been prompted to see a connection between Plotinus and the Eleusinian celebrations by a passage in the Enneads where the Greek philosopher refers to some ancient Mysteries (Enn. I, 6, 7). As noted by Procopio (2005: 68), Plotinus’s words seem to recall the symbolism of the Eleusinian Mysteries and, in particular, their focus on the blessed and privileged condition of the initiates after the final revelation5. Indeed, Plotinus’s claim “Any that have seen know what I have in mind: the soul takes another life as it approaches God” (Plot. Enn. VI, 9, 6: transl. Mackenna – Page 1952: 359) somehow recalls the Homeric 3 As suggested by Raine (1970: 30-31), «It was during the early years of Blake’s friendship with him that Flaxman persuaded Josiah Wedgwood to make his famous replicas of the Portland Vase, the first of his many replicas and imitations of Graeco-Roman vases. […] In 1791 Erasmus Darwin […] published in Part I of his Botanic Garden a long essay in which he argued, probably mistakenly, that the vase figures are emblems of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Blake made the fine set of engravings for Darwin’s work, and must, therefore, have had either the original vase or one of the replicas in his workroom for some time». 4 «That the mysteries occultly signified this sublime truth, that the soul by being merged in matter resides among the dead both here and hereafter […] yet it is indisputably confirmed, by the testimony of the great and truly divine Plotinus» (Taylor 1790-1791: 351). All quotations from the Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries are from Taylor (1790-1791) and from Taylor (1891). 5 «È evidente che un’analoga concezione della visione finale, dell’epopteia, presiede tanto ai misteri quanto alla filosofia plotiniana: essa è considerata come il presagio ed al tempo stesso l’anticipo di una situazione escatologica privilegiata» (Procopio 2005: 69). The importance of visionary experience in Plotinus’s thought is underlined also by Bussanich (1996: 40): «Discursive reasoning must retreat before intuitive thought and visionary experience, which for Plotinus justify the claim that ‘whoever has seen, knows what I am saying’ […]. To achieve this transcendent level of existence requires both philosophical reasoning and affective training». For a further study on Plotinus’s philosophy of the soul, see Chiaradonna (2005). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 84 MARTINA ZAMPARO Hymn to Demeter6, which underlines the importance of visions as a source of knowledge of the divine: Happy is he among men upon earth who has seen these mysteries; but he who is uninitiate and who has no part in them, never has lot of like good things once he is dead, down in the darkness and gloom. (h. Cer. 480-484; transl. Evelyn-White 1967: 323) However, even though there are affinities between Plotinus’s concept of the soul’s final salvation and that of the rites of Eleusis, it should be pointed out that several mystery cults existed and, therefore, it is not sure whether the philosopher’s reference was precisely to the rites of Eleusis7. It is possibly by means of Taylor, then, that Plotinus’s ideas and the symbolism of the Eleusinian Mysteries become somehow intertwined in Blake’s thought. The habit of merging different traditions in a new, ‘illuminated’, way is one of Blake’s characteristics, as emerges from All Religions Are One, whose title underlines the author’s syncretic approach to philosophy and religion. All religions, as well as all philosophies and traditions, derive from the so-called ‘Poetic Genius’, which is universal and transcends all distinctions: «As all men are alike (tho’ infinitely various), So all Religions &, all similars, have one source. The true Man is the source, he being the Poetic Genius» 6 The story of the Eleusinian Mysteries «was told in detail for the first time in a long epic poem that has come down to us under the title of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Neither the author of this hymn nor the time of its composition is known, but scholars have come more and more to consider it the official story of the Eleusinian traditions, recorded in verse about the end of the seventh century B.C., perhaps around 600 B.C.» (Mylonas 1969: 3). 7 As remarked by Ustinova (2009: 228), for instance, «Before we can attribute to the Eleusinian cult practices suggested by statements in ancient authors, we have first to be sure that they do not refer to the Orphic mysteries» or, as it has been said, to other mystery cults. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 85 (A.R.O., K. 98)8. It follows that Blake might have seen some links between Plotinus’s theory of the descent and ascent of the soul and the Eleusinian Mysteries, two traditions that constitute, along with Porphyry’s The Cave of the Nymphs9, such an important key for the interpretation of Blake’s ideas. 2. TRUE KNOWLEDGE COMES FROM “THE MOLE” As claimed by Frye, the interpretation of Blake’s works and, especially, of his Songs of Innocence and of Experience, presupposes an awareness of the author’s complex and often obscure symbolism: «Without the system, Blake is the simplest of lyric poets and every child may joy to hear the songs» (Frye 1966 :10). I believe that a key to the correct interpretation of Blake’s Songs is provided by the opening lines of The Book of Thel: «Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? / Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?» (B.T., ll. 1-2, K. 127). These lines are a reflection on two different kinds of knowledge: abstract and sensuous knowledge10. The lyrical voice is indirectly asking the reader whether true knowledge is acquired by means of abstract definitions or if, conversely, truth is achieved only through concrete experience. As it might be expected, Blake does not provide his reader with a clear 8 Hereafter all quotations from Blake will be quoted according to Keynes (1972) and marked as a K. followed by the page number. The following abbreviations for Blake’s works are employed: All Religions Are One: A.R.O; The Book of Thel: B.T.; Jerusalem: J.; Milton: M.; The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: M.H.H.; There is no Natural Religion: N.N.R.; A Vision of the Last Judgment: V.L.J. 9 Blake’s knowledge of Porphyry’s De Antro Nympharum is demonstrated by the author’s engraving dating from 1821. For Blake’s plate De Antro Nympharum, see his Arlington Court Tempera, reproduced in Raine (1970). 10 Mitchell (1978: 86) discusses the meaning of Thel’s question: «Is knowledge a process and a probe, or a product and a point of view? […] Mediated, abstract ‘eagle knowledge’ produces a vision of the pit that is desirable, but apparently false; immediate, sensuous ‘mole knowledge’ discovers the apparent truth, but this truth is intolerable». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 86 MARTINA ZAMPARO and definite answer because, as he states, the obscurity of his works is aimed at helping man to awake his faculties: «That which can be made Explicit to the Idiot is not worth my care. The wisest of the Ancients consider’d what is not too Explicit as the fittest for Instruction, because it rouzes the faculties to act» (Letter to Dr. Trusler, 23 Aug. 1799, K. 793). However, an attentive perusal of Blake’s macrotext, along with a study of the influences coming from the Eleusinian Mysteries and Neoplatonism, might offer an answer to Thel’s question and demonstrate that the passage through the complexities of the state of Experience is a conditio sine qua non for the achievement of eternity. Blake provides an answer to Thel’s obscure question in his earliest illuminated work, All Religions Are One, where he asserts that «As the true method of knowledge is experiment, the true faculty of knowing must be the faculty which experiences» (A.R.O., K. 98). These lines recall a passage from Plotinus’s Enneads, where the philosopher, in similar terms, praises the role of direct experience as a source of knowledge: «Where the faculty is incapable of knowing without contact, the experience of evil brings the clearer perception of Good» (Plot. Enn. IV, 8, 7: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 204). Both Blake and Plotinus, thus, suggest that knowledge is not provided by abstract categories but by real experience, i.e. by “the Mole”11. Plotinus goes even further when he claims that evil is useful for humanity in order to realize what good consists of, as if man could not really perceive the greatness of God without being immersed in the “mud” of existence first (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 5). This is exactly what Thel does not have the strength to do since she questions her usefulness in a world where 11 As noted by Catapano (1996: 157), in Plotinus’s times, philosophy implied a specific behaviour; the philosopher had to translate his ideas into a concrete way of life. Therefore, it might be inferred that knowledge by means of direct experience played a very important role in Plotinus’s system. «Questa ricerca della verità – ricerca personale e corale, dialettica e problematica, tradizionalista e insieme originale – e lo stile di vita ad essa corrispondente sono esattamente ciò che Plotino ha in mente quando si parla di ‘filosofia’». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 87 everything inevitably perishes, but, when she is given the possibility of exploring the underworld in first person, she runs away: «The Virgin started from her seat, & with a shriek / Fled back unhinder’d till she came to the vales of Har» (B.T., 6: 21-22, K. 130). In her representing the weaknesses of every man when facing the difficulties of life, Thel is a metaphor for man’s complex journey on earth. However, Blake himself maintains that «Evil is Created into a State, that Men / May be deliver’d time after time» (J., 49: 71-72, K. 680), somehow prompting his reader not to be afraid of the «Dolours and lamentations» (B.T., 6: 7, K. 130) of mortal existence and not to follow Thel’s example. Once more, Blake seems to be deeply influenced by Plotinus, who argues that the fall into the material world does not only have to be read in terms of a death of the soul’s eternal life, but also as a positive event: then it [the Soul] abandons its status as whole soul with whole soul, though even thus it is always able to recover itself by turning to account the experience of what it has seen and suffered here, learning, so, the greatness of rest in the Supreme, and more clearly discerning by comparison with what is almost their direct antithesis12. (Plot. Enn. IV, 8, 7: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 204) According to Plotinus, the soul ‘dies’, putting an end to its eternal life, but is then able to be born again, in a purer and higher form. As a matter of fact, in Plotinus’s theory of the descent of the soul, «what 12 According to Fleet (2012: 177-178), in his commentary on Plotinus’s On the Descent of the Soul into Bodies, the philosopher «is suggesting that experience of evil in the sensible world can lead us to an understanding of the Form of Good in the intelligible world. […] At root is the fundamental Platonic distinction between knowledge or understanding, whose theater is the intelligible world, and experience or suffering, whose theater is the sensible world». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 88 MARTINA ZAMPARO appears as a fall is in fact a positive event» (Kanyororo 2003: 235)13. Likewise, Blake argues that the ‘descent’ into the evil of Experience does not have to be avoided because man has to know what sin is in order to be redeemed: «If I were Unpolluted I should never have / Glorified thy Holiness or rejoiced in thy Great Salvation» (J., 61: 4546, K. 695). It follows that both Blake and Plotinus seem to believe in the ability of the human soul to renew itself after the ‘immersion’ in the so-called world of generation, so that the experience of the difficulties of existence might be turned into a source of ‘salvation’. The Neoplatonic concept of the world as a cave where the human soul descends is also useful for the interpretation of Blake’s Songs14. Blake actually considers the world of generation as a place of both death and rebirth, as a ‘grave’ and a ‘womb’ at the same time, as «The Habitation of the Spectres of the Dead, & the Place / Of Redemption 13 Kanyororo (2003: 238) claims that Plotinus constantly refers to the possibility that the fallen soul has to renew itself and ascend to the world of eternity, enriched by its experience in the mortal world: «L’âme incarnée peut se retrouver. Son effort, pour retrouver la cohérence primitive de sa nature, doit aller dans le sens de l’éveil, de la concentration et peut-être du silence qui seul rend capable de garder en soi l’essentiel. […] la descente de l’âme se révèle néanmoins comme une richesse». 14 Generally speaking, the cave is a place of spiritual death and initiatory rebirth: «L’antro è simbolo del cosmo, luogo di iniziazione e rinascita, immagine del centro e del cuore. […] In esso avviene l’iniziazione, il passaggio dalla morte (al mondo profano) alla nascita, e questo passaggio, come ogni passaggio, deve avvenire nell’oscurità» (Laura Simonini’s comment on De Antro Nympharum, in Porfirio 2010: 94). Porphyry himself asserts that, because of their symbolism, the ancients often consecrated caves to their gods during their rituals of initiation: «the Persians, mystically signifying the descent of the soul into an inferior nature and its ascent into the intelligible world, initiate the priest or mystic in a place which they denominate cave» (Porph. Antr. 6: transl. Taylor 1788: 301). As claimed by Ustinova (2009: 2), this image of the cave as a source of truth and regeneration is different from Plato’s depiction of the cave as a place of ignorance. Porphyry’s cave actually represents «a means of acquiring ultimate, superhuman knowledge» (Ustinova 2009: 2). On the myth of the cave and its related symbolism, see also Findlay (2003). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 89 & of awakening again into Eternity» (J., 59: 8-9, K. 691). This concept is fully developed by Porphyry, Plotinus’s pupil, in his work On the Cave of the Nymphs, where the author analyses Homer’s account of a cave having two gates: «Besides this too is wonderful, that the cave should have a double entrance; one prepared for the descent of men, the other for the ascent of gods» (Porph. Antr. 3: transl. Taylor 1788: 299). After its first descent, the soul is able to ascend, through the second gate, in a divine form15. This sort of descensus ad inferos functions as a process of purification and expiation, during which the soul has to be cleansed from the ‘filth’ of existence, as a sculptor works on his statue (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 5: transl. Mackenna – Page 1952: 23): act as does the creator of a statue that is to be made beautiful: he cuts away here, he smoothes there […]. So do you also […] and never cease chiselling your statue, until there shine out on you from it the godlike splendour of virtue. (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 9: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 25). Once more, Blake is close to Plotinus when claiming that man has to purify himself from the vices of earthly life, as a great artist endlessly refines his work: «We are in a World of Generation & death, & this world we must cast off if we would be Painters such as Rafael, Mich. Angelo & the Ancient Sculptors» (V. L. J., K. 613). While in the mortal world, then, man undergoes a spiritual and moral journey that will allow him to be born again, ascend from the ‘cave’ where he first fell, and be united with God, exactly as when he was «One Family, / One Man blessed forever» (J., 55: 46, K. 687). The necessity to ‘die’ or, in Blakean terms, to be immersed in Experience16, in order to ‘be reborn’ is what the Eleusinian Mysteries symbolically intend to signify by means of a representation of the 15 Plotinus asserts that «in the Soul’s becoming a good and beautiful thing is its becoming like God» (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 6: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 24). 16 Raine (1968: 129) remarks that «Experience, as a whole, deals with the world of the soul that has ‘died’, or ‘lapsed’». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 90 MARTINA ZAMPARO story of Proserpina and Ceres17. Indeed, as it will be discussed below, two poems of Songs of Experience, The Little Girl Lost and The Little Girl Found, might be read as Blake’s reinterpretation of the myth of Proserpina18. Lyca, the protagonist of the two songs, seems to retrace the path of Proserpina who, in the imagery of the Mysteries, is linked to the regeneration of nature, since Ceres allows the coming of spring in order to celebrate the ‘rebirth’ of her lost daughter19. Recalling the symbolism of the Eleusinian celebrations, the lyrical voice of The Little Girl Lost announces the world’s future rebirth, thus linking Lyca to the myth of Proserpina: In futurity I prophetic see, That the earth from sleep, (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise and seek For her maker meek: And the desart wild Become a garden mild. (The Little Girl Lost, 34: 1-8, K. 112) 17 As claimed by Kerenyi (Jung – Kerenyi 1985: 117), «The basic theme of both these mysteries was the eternal coming of life from death» (Jung – Kerenyi 1985: 149). One of the symbols displayed during the rituals was «a single ear of grain» (Jung – Kerenyi 1985: 115) that represented life generating from death: «The grain figure is essentially the figure of both origin and end […]. It is always the grain that sinks to earth and returns». The grain, exactly like Proserpina, descends in order to ascend in a better, more complete form. For further studies on the Eleusinian Mysteries, see Clinton (1992), Eliade (1978), Kerenyi (1967), Lippolis (2006), Mylonas (1969), Scarpi (2002) and Wassoon (1978). 18 «The Little Girl Lost and The Little Girl Found tell the story that Blake first learned from the Portland vase; Lyca is the Kore, whose death – or, as Blake says, ‘sleep’ – is watched with such grave wonder by the man and woman on the urn» (Raine 1968: 127). 19 «After recovering her daughter, Demeter consented to rejoin the gods, and the earth was miraculously covered with verdure» (Eliade 1978: 291). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 91 Moreover, Lyca’s sleep, a metaphor for her physical death, might be read as a reinterpretation of Proserpina’s descent into the underworld20. As a matter of fact, Proserpina’s imprisonment in Hades also symbolizes «the mighty descent into sleep, into the realm of dreams» (Keller 1988: 50). However, Lyca knows that man’s ‘sleep’ is nothing but a rebirth into a higher reality, exactly as the soul’s descent into generation turns out to be a source of salvation. By his indirect reference to the story of Proserpina, Blake is once more suggesting that true knowledge can be acquired only by means of direct experience, i.e. by a descent into the ‘cave’ of earthly life. The Eleusinian Mysteries, along with the Neoplatonic concepts of the cosmos as a cave and of the descent of the soul into matter, seem to support the idea that knowledge comes from “the Mole”. Thel, differently from Proserpina and Lyca, is not strong enough to accomplish her descensus ad inferos and chooses a form of incomplete knowledge, the one provided by “the Eagle”. Blake does not want his reader to be entrapped, like Thel, in a world of illusory perfection; man, like the initiates of the Eleusinian Mysteries, has to face the pains of existence in first person in order to be redeemed. 20 «Sweet sleep come to me / Underneath this tree» (The Little Girl Lost, 34:1718, K. 112). According to Raine (1968: 136), there are several hints suggesting that ‘sleeping’ is here a metaphor for dying. First of all, the text suggests that Lyca’s parents weep because their daughter sleeps, which sounds very unusual: «Do father, mother weep, / ‘Where can Lyca sleep’. / […] How can Lyca sleep, / If her mother weep» (The Little Girl Lost, 34:19-20/23-24, K. 112). The only possible explanation is, thus, that Lyca’s sleep symbolizes her physical death. Moreover, Lyca ambiguously states that she will not weep if her mother ‘sleeps’: «If my mother sleep, / Lyca shall not weep» (The Little Girl Lost, 34: 27-28, K. 113). Once more, Lyca shows that death is to her a rebirth into a higher and better reality and the consequent end of the darkness of the Fallen world. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 92 MARTINA ZAMPARO 3. INNOCENCE: AN AMBIGUOUS REALITY Blake’s claim that «Understanding […] is acquir’d by means of […] Experience» (Annotations to Swedenborg, K. 89) seems to suggest that the world of Innocence has to be gradually abandoned. Indeed, the Songs of Innocence, if carefully perused, depict a dimension where human imagination is restrained by different forms of authority and visually represent the necessity to overcome this oppressive world by means of some flying creatures that appear in several plates of the collection21: as claimed by Erdman (1974: 50), these birds flying towards the sky, in a sort of attempt of escape, remind the reader that «this life of sheltered innocence is but a ‘little space’ which must be pierced to prevent its becoming a prison». The very title-page to Songs of Innocence, showing a woman instructing two children with a book on her lap, visually represents the stifling sides of the seemingly idyllic world of Innocence. The scene actually embodies that form of ruled education considered by Blake as the death of man’s creative energy22, as suggested by one of the most praised principles of The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: «The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction» (M.H.H., pl. 9, K. 152). Several other plates of Songs of Innocence, among which is A Cradle Song, highlight the ambiguities of this state and, in particular, 21 The plates of Songs of Innocence in which flying birds appear are the following: Title-page to Songs of Innocence, The Shepherd and The Little Black Boy (plate II). As Blake produced several versions of each plate, with single illustrations considerably varying in colour, thus affecting their interpretation, it is important to note that the edition here considered for the plates of Songs of Innocence and of Experience is Keynes (1970). 22 As is well-known, Blake is self-educated and often expresses his contempt for every form of forced instruction. His outstanding culture is due to his being a voracious reader: «In my Brain are studies & Chambers fill’d with books & pictures of old, which I wrote & painted in ages of Eternity before my mortal life» (Letter to John Flaxman, 21 Sept. 1800, K. 802). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 93 the oppressive features of maternal love23. Throughout Songs of Innocence, mothers are, most of the times, those who entrap their children in a limiting dimension. In the Eleusinian Mysteries, Proserpina’s separation from her mother’s cares is one of the basic steps of the ritual, the cause of her descent into Hades: «Here, then, we see the first cause of the soul’s descent, […] occultly signified by the separation of Proserpine from Ceres» (Taylor 1790-1791: 387). Unlike Thel, Proserpina abandons the cave where she has been hidden by her mother, «lest some violence should be offered to Proserpine» (Taylor 1790-1791: 386), and undertakes her journey alone. In the celebrations of the Mysteries, as in most rituals of initiation, the separation from the mother represents a definite break from the previous state and a rebirth into a new condition24. In similar terms, Blake encourages humanity to leave all forms of moral and motherly constraints and find the strength to begin the ‘descent’ into Experience, since «none by travelling over known lands can find out the unknown, So from already acquired knowledge Man could not acquire more» (A.R.O., K. 98). Albeit A Cradle Song is usually considered as conforming «in its simplicity to the general pattern of all lullabies» (Keynes 1970: 137), in my opinion it functions as an example of how the protection of the state of Innocence, if excessive, might become a prison. The mother of the poem is worried about her child’s future, as every mother would be but, at the same time, her ‘moans’ stress her oppressive role: 23 Analyzing each of the Songs of Innocence would go beyond the scope of this study: in this discussion it is worth considering how A Cradle Song highlights some of the more ambiguous aspects of the state of Innocence. 24 As claimed by Eliade (1994: 9), «The maternal universe was that of the profane world. The universe that the novices now enter is that of the sacred world. Between the two, there is a break, a rupture of continuity». As pointed out also by Lippolis (2006: 7-8), Proserpina’s separation from Ceres played a basic role in the symbolism of the Mysteries: «La ‘storia sacra’ inizia con il rapimento della figlia […]; il suo destino femminile, infatti, non può prescindere dal matrimonio, che implica l’abbandono della madre e l’inizio di una nuova vita, esperienza temuta e allontanata da Demetra». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 94 MARTINA ZAMPARO Sleep sleep happy child. All creation slept and smil’d. Sleep sleep, happy sleep, While o’er thee thy mother weep. (A Cradle Song, 16: 17-20, K. 120). The fact that the sweet sleep of the child is contrasted by the crying of the mother clearly alludes to Blake’s negative conception of maternal protection which, in Jerusalem, he defines as the «anguish of maternal love» (J., 5: 46-47, K. 624). Since it is strange that a mother should cry if her child is quietly sleeping, the whole scene calls the idyllic atmosphere of Innocence into question. The adverb while actually focuses on the opposition between the child’s serenity, on the one hand, and the mother’s lamentations, on the other. The illustration of A Cradle Song, the only indoor-scene of Songs of Innocence, further contributes to highlight the ambiguities emerging from the poem. First of all, the picture of A Cradle Song evidently contrasts with the open settings of songs like The Shepherd, The Lamb and Spring, thus suggesting that the state of Innocence is not just a place where man can spend his time happily «Piping down the valleys wild» (Introduction to Songs of Innocence, 4: 1, K. 111); secondly, indoorsettings often function, in Blake’s system, as a symbol of the domination of reason over imagination. As a matter of fact, the child represented in the plate of A Cradle Song seems to have no way out from the different layers that prevent him from escaping: the bands which envelop him, the relatively big cradle where he lies and the heavy curtains that enclose the whole scene. As claimed by Warner (1989: 85), Blake’s designs have to be meticulously analyzed in order to grasp the full meaning of the author’s works: «Like his poetic archetypes, Blake’s visual images are indicative primarily of states of man, which is one reason the human figure in various attitudes is so central to his designs». Therefore, every detail of the poet’s illustrations has to be perused, since his drawings are never simple Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 95 translations of the songs they refer to25. The very Blake actually prompts his reader never to overlook the visual details provided by the plates: «As Poetry admits not a Letter that is Insignificant, so Painting admits not a Grain of Sand or a Blade of Grass Insignificant – much less an Insignificant Blur or Mark» (V.L.J, K. 611). The ambiguities coming to light from A Cradle Song seem to be confirmed by a comparison with the illustration of Infant Sorrow, a poem included in Songs of Experience. Mitchell (1978: 5) argues that Blake’s plates have to be studied as «a picture in a world of pictures», since they are all somehow interrelated, as if they were part of a story. It is no coincidence, then, that the two plates of A Cradle Song and Infant Sorrow show two mothers, both red-dressed and bent over their children, in a particularly stifling setting. As suggested by Warner (1989: 107), the position of the two women might be considered as part of the body language used by Blake to symbolize negative feelings: «This figure and its related form, the bent-over, kneeling figure […] are recognized by most readers to be Blake’s primary visual symbols for mankind in the state of despair». The undeniable similarities between the two plates might be read as an evidence that they should be connected and that they acquire a clearer significance if studied one in the light of the other. The lyrical voice of Infant Sorrow mentions some heavy bands against which he has to struggle: Struggling in my fathers hands: Striving against my swadling bands: 25 «The aesthetic and iconographic independence of Blake’s designs from their texts can thus be seen as having two functions. First, it serves a mimetic purpose, in that it reflects Blake’s vision of the fallen world as a place of apparent separation between temporal and spatial, mental and physical phenomena. Second, it has a rhetorical or hermeneutic function, in that the contrariety of poem and picture entices the reader to supply the missing connections» (Mitchell 1978: 33). For further studies on Blake’s ‘illuminated’ art, see Hagstrum (1964) and Lister (1975). It should also be noticed that, in the eighteenth century, the concept of the so-called ut pictura poesis was particularly widespread and necessarily influenced Blake’s art. For a complete study on the ut pictura poesis, see Lee (1967). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 96 MARTINA ZAMPARO Bound and weary I thought best To sulk upon my mothers breast. (Infant Sorrow, 48: 5-8, K. 217) However, it should be noted that these swadling bands are not present in the illustration of Infant Sorrow, where the little child is depicted with outstretched arms and as completely free from all physical constraints26. Conversely, the little protagonist of A Cradle Song is still wrapped in the tight bands that symbolize how the protection offered to the characters in the state of Innocence does not allow humanity to grow up. Given that Infant Sorrow is part of Songs of Experience, it follows that the child with no bands and outstretched arms, represented in the corresponding illustration, symbolizes the possibility man has to be set free from the bonds of mortal life only after passing through the suffering of the state of Experience. It is important to point out that children are, in Blake’s system, a symbol of the «fecundity of imagination» (Damon 1973: 81), as opposed to the so-called «Reasoning Power, / An Abstract objecting power that Negatives every thing» (J., 10: 13-14, K. 629). Blake often praises the ability of children, led by their imagination, to understand the meaning of his ‘illuminated’ works: I am happy to find a Great Majority of Fellow Mortals who can Elucidate My Visions, & Particularly they have been Elucidated by Children, who have taken a greater delight in contemplating my Pictures than I even hoped. Neither Youth nor Childhood is Folly or Incapacity. (Letter to Dr. Trusler, 23 Aug. 1799, K. 794) After the passage through all the stages of existence, man is like a new-born child, able to show to the ‘inexperienced’ ones the way to 26 For a study of the symbolism of the outstretched arms in Blake’s plates, see Warner (1989: 87-105). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 97 God. As suggested by Eliade27, many rituals of initiation are symbolically considered as a regressus ad uterum, as if man were returning into the motherly womb. This concept recalls Wordsworth’s line «The Child is father of Man» (My Heart leaps up, l. 7), where the child stands, in Blakean and Platonic terms, for the new man who is born again, after being immersed into Experience. Given the great importance childhood has for Blake, the child of A Cradle Song, forced in a closed setting, suggests that the state of Innocence hides several controversial sides; what seems to be an idyllic setting, «where joy doth sit on every bough» (Song 1st by a Shepherd, l. 1, K. 63), turns out to be a place where human imagination is restrained. In the light of the deceptive features of Innocence, one might think that Blake’s aim is not to recover the condition described in Songs of Innocence: actually, his aim is to show that a higher reality can be achieved at the end of the passage through Experience, as suggested by the opening lines of Jerusalem, the summa of Blake’s thought, «of the passage through / Eternal Death! And of the awakening to Eternal Life» (J., 4: 1-2, K. 622). 4. FROM EXPERIENCE TO ETERNITY The previous section has dwelled on the idea that the state of Innocence is a deceptive world and that man has to overcome its flaws and abandon its false securities, thus becoming gradually aware of the necessity to pass through the more complex state of Experience. Songs of Experience actually end in a positive way, showing that the journey through the two ‘contrary states’ of the human soul will lead humanity to a better reality. In The Voice of the Ancient Bard, the closing poem 27 «Initiatory death is often symbolized, for example, by darkness, by cosmic night, by the telluric womb, the hut, the belly of a monster. […] These images and symbols of ritual death are inextricably connected with germination, with embryology; they already indicate a new life in course of preparation» (Eliade 1994: xiv). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 98 MARTINA ZAMPARO of the Experience collection, the Bard announces the coming of a new morn, suggesting that humanity’s spiritual darkness has been replaced by the light of God: Youth of delight come hither, And see the opening morn, Image of truth new born. Doubt is fled & clouds of reason, Dark disputes & artful teazing. (The Voice of the Ancient Bard, 54: 1-5, K. 126). However, the ‘pilgrimage’ through the sorrow of existence is not an easy one and humanity needs a guide not to get irremediably lost. The Bard, the guide of man in the state of Experience28, is a ‘seer’, a wise prophet who knows what is the end of earthly life and, thus, summons humanity to wake up: Hear the voice of the Bard! Who Present, Past, & Future sees Whose ears have heard, The Holy Word, That walk’d among the ancient trees. Calling the lapsed Soul And weeping in the evening dew: That might controll The starry pole: And fallen fallen light renew! (Introduction to Songs of Experience, 30: 1-10, K. 210). 28 «Blake makes clear, then, what he conceives the function of the poet, the Bard, to be. He must break the heavy chain of Night which threatens to strangle fertility» (Bottrall 1970: 126). Indeed, Prophets «are not foretellers of future facts; they are revealers of eternal truths» (Damon 1973: 335). The very Plotinus, as asserted by Kanyororo (2003: 255), bestows great importance to those who, having experienced the greatness of the divine, have to guide fallen humanity: «La pensée de Plotin donne de la place au témoignage dévolu au sage et à ‘celui qui a vu’: ils ont la charge d’annoncer aux autres la vérité […]. Ils dévront être des éducateurs et des éveilleurs». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 99 The task of the Bard is to help man to clean the «doors of perception» (M.H.H., pl. 14, K. 154) and find the light of God within himself: «I rest not from my great task! / To open the Eternal Worlds, to open the immortal Eyes / Of Man inwards into the Worlds of Thought, into Eternity» (J., 5: 17-19, K. 623). Without the Bard leading him, man is just a «wanderer lost in dreary night» (M., 15: 16, K. 496) because of his inability to find the light of God on his path. In similar terms, Plotinus claims that the human soul has to be helped and ‘trained’ to goodness in order to ascend to the world of eternity: «the Soul must be trained – to the habit of remarking, first, all noble pursuits, then the works of beauty produced not by the labour of the arts but by the virtue of men known for their goodness» (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 9: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 25). In the Eleusinian Mysteries, the role of the guide is played by the Hierophant, who initiates the candidates, the so-called mystae29, to the symbolism of Eleusis. Like Blake’s Bard, the Hierophant’s task is to symbolically ‘open’ man’s eyes by means of visions of eternity30: «Crowned with myrtle, we enter with the other initiates into the vestibule of the temple, – blind as yet, but the Hierophant within will soon open our eyes» (Taylor 1891: 17). Indeed, at the basis of these ancient celebrations are the visions experienced by the mystae during the phase called epopteia or, in other words, during the final revelation (Taylor 1891: 81). Since the epopteia is, according to 29 «The first initiations of the Eleusinia were called Teletae or terminations, as denoting that the imperfect and rudimentary period of generated life was ended and purged off; and the candidate was denominated a mysta» (Taylor 1891: 25). 30 What is known is that «the initiates experienced a special seeing, the ‘opening of the eyes’» (Keller 1988: 53). However, «In all the years of their celebration, the central experience of the initiation was never revealed – perhaps because the mystical insight itself was beyond naming, ineffable» (Keller 1988: 53). What is sure, as remarked by Clinton (2004: 85), is that «the hierophant’s task was […] ‘to show sacred objects’ or ‘to make the gods appear’. In the latter case he did more than show sacred objects, i.e. made gods appear in addition to objects, or perhaps was mainly associated with an appearance of the gods. Making gods appear was a feature of the Mysteries». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 100 MARTINA ZAMPARO Taylor, «the beholding of the most stupenduous visions» (Taylor 1891: 81), the condition of the initiate at the end of the sacred rituals is completely changed; he is now a ‘seer’31. Before reaching the epopteia, the mystae undergo a series of purifying activities, among which is the immersion in water32: «the second was the day of purification, called also aladé mystai, from the proclamation: ‘to the sea, initiated ones!’» (Taylor 1891: 14). This same symbolism recurs also in Blake’s The Chimney Sweeper, where the protagonist sees, in a vision, an angel releasing all the children who, once free, wash in a river: And by came an Angel who had a bright key, And he open’d the coffins & set them all free. Then down a green plain leaping laughing they run And wash in a river and shine in the Sun. (The Chimney Sweeper, 12: 13-16, K. 117). The image of the chimney sweepers washing themselves in water, along with the imagery related to the sun as a symbol of God’s mercy that saves humanity, might function as a further evidence of Blake’s knowledge of all the phases of the Eleusinian celebrations. After appointed rituals and sacrifices, the fifth day, «denominated the day of torches» (Taylor 1891: 14), is consecrated to torchlight processions, symbolizing Ceres’s search for her lost daughter. Blake himself, in A Vision of the Last Judgment, mentions the symbolism of 31 Eliade (1978: 295-296) actually claims that, after suffering all sorts of troubles, the initiate, like the human soul, finally discovers a better world: «the experiences of the soul immediately after death are compared to the ordeals of the initiate in the Greater Mysteries: at first, he wanders in darkness and undergoes all sorts of terrors; then, suddenly, he is struck by a marvelous light and discovers pure regions and meadows». 32 «Early in the morning the heralds would order all participants to cleanse themselves in the sea and the shout ‘to the sea, oh mystai’ would fill the city. […] The sea was considered immaculate; it cleansed and purified man from all evil. The initiates probably went to the nearest shore, to the Phaleron coast on the east side, or to the peninsula of Peiraeus, the port town of Athens» (Mylonas 1969: 249). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 101 torches, thus further suggesting that he is close to the significance of the Mysteries: «The wreathed Torches in their hands represents Eternal Fire which is the fire of Generation or Vegetation» (V.L.J., K. 609). Moreover, the song A Dream, included in Songs of Innocence, recalls the idea of Ceres searching for her daughter. A lost mother-ant, desperately looking for her family, is finally guided home by a glowworm, exactly as Ceres is reunited with Proserpina after wandering alone for several days: Pitying I drop’d a tear: But I saw a glow-worm near: Who replied, What wailing wight Calls the watchman of the night. I am set to light the ground, While the beetle goes his round: Follow now the beetles hum. Little wanderer hie thee home. (A Dream, 26: 13-20, K. 112) Like the mother-ant, «Troubled wilderd and forlorn» (A Dream, 26: 5, K. 111), and like Ceres, the mystae are finally able to be united with the divine dimension and leave behind their dark existence33, since «God appears & God is light / To those poor Souls who dwell in Night» (Auguries of Innocence, ll. 129-130, K. 434). In Plotinus’s terms, the soul’s ascent to the world of eternity is like a journey, at the end of which man learns how to awake a new way of ‘seeing’: What then is our course, what the manner of our flight? This is not a journey for the feet; the feet bring us only from land to land; nor need you think of coach or ship to carry you away; all this order of things you must set aside and refuse to see; you 33 As claimed by Taylor (1790-1791: 356), darkness symbolically represented the mortal world as opposed to the divine realm: «the mysteries, as is well known, were celebrated by night […]; this period being peculiarly accomodated to the darkness and oblivion of a corporeal nature». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 102 MARTINA ZAMPARO must close the eyes and call instead upon another vision. (Plot. Enn. I, 6, 8: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 25) The idea of the journey is perfectly represented by Blake’s songs The Little Girl Lost and The Little Girl Found which, as already anticipated, are re-elaborated versions of the myth of Proserpina (Raine 1968: 130). The protagonist of the two songs, Lyca, demonstrates that humanity, like the human soul, can be saved only after being lost in the «desart wild» (The Little Girl Lost, 34: 7, K. 112) of mortal existence. As a matter of fact, Lyca first enters the cave where she is brought by the beasts of the forest and is there initiated to a greater life, since her death is nothing but a rebirth into a higher dimension: While the lioness Loos’d her slender dress, And naked they convey’d To caves the sleeping maid34. (The Little Girl Lost, 34: 53-56, K. 113). In the light of the symbolism of Eleusis, as much as Proserpina ascends from her sleep in Hades, allowing the regeneration of nature, so Lyca is initiated to a new life after entering the cave, both ‘grave’ and ‘womb’. Furthermore, the wanderings of Lyca’s parents might be 34 The removal of the garments, to which the poem alludes, is a Neoplatonic symbol of the soul’s rebirth. As claimed by Porphyry, once the soul descends into the world of generation, it assumes the garment of the body: «the body is a garment with which the soul is invested […]. Thus according to Orpheus, Proserpine, who presides over every thing generated from seed, is represented weaving a web» (Porph. Antr. 14: transl. Taylor 1788: 305). Conversely, the souls «dying from this world discard a garment» (Raine 1968: 141). It follows that the removal of Lyca’s dress is a representation of the process of the soul’s ascent to the divine realm, after being set free from the constrictions of physical reality. Blake often alludes to the concept of the removal of the ‘garments’ as a symbol of the purification of the human soul: «For God himself enters Death’s Door always with those that enter / And lays down in the Grave with them, in Visions of Eternity, / Till they awake & see Jesus & the Linen Clothes lying / That the Females had Woven for them» (M., 32: 42-43, K. 522). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 103 read as an allusion to the purifying disciplines of the Eleusinian Mysteries35 and to the sufferings of the soul previous to its final ascent (Raine 1968: 143). Indeed, the mystae’s wanderings represented a training of the soul, symbolically retracing the steps of Proserpina and Ceres, «from the happiness of the early bonding, through the period of separation and suffering, to their joyful reunion» (Keller 1988: 53). In a similar way, the girl’s parents search for their daughter several days and nights: Tired and woe-begone, Hoarse with making moan: Arm in arm seven days, They trac’d the desart ways. (The Little Girl Found, 35: 5-8, K. 113) The road that brings to eternity is a long and difficult one but, if the just man keeps his right course through this land of pain and sorrow, he will finally rejoice in eternity. Blake himself states that he had fought like a ‘champion’ against the complexities of existence: I am again Emerged into the light of day; I still & shall to Eternity Embrace Christianity and Adore him who is the Express image of God; but I have travel’d thro’ Perils & Darkness not unlike a Champion. (Letter to Thomas Butts, 22 Nov. 1802, K. 815-816) Likewise, Lyca’s parents finally realize that their daughter’s physical death is not an end but a rebirth: Then they followed, Where the vision led: And saw their sleeping child, Among tygers wild. 35 Ustinova (2009: 233) remarks how the pilgrimage of the initiates of Eleusis was a long and difficult one: «The effect of the awe-inspiring environment was enhanced by the two days of fasting and the exhausting march of more than 30 kilometres from Athens to Eleusis». Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 104 MARTINA ZAMPARO To this day they dwell In a lonely dell Nor fear the wolvish howl, Nor the lions growl. (The Little Girl Found, 36: 45-48, K. 115) The harmonious union with the tygers wild refers to the state of peace reached by man after his long journey through this land of «Suffering & Distress» (Annotations to Swedenborg’s Wisdom, K. 89). Once the doors of perception (M.H.H., pl. 14, K. 154) have been cleansed, humanity does not need a guide any longer, as suggested by Plotinus: «when you perceive that you have grown to this, you are now become very vision: now call up all your confidence, strike forward yet a step – you need a guide no longer – strain, and see» (Plot. Enn. I. 6, 9: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 25). The positive ending of Blake’s Songs of Experience suggests that if man comes out from his dark ‘cave’, he will find the light of God36. As claimed by Blake, «Albion must Sleep / The Sleep of Death till the Man of Sin & Repentance be reveal’d» (J., 29: 11-12, K. 653), where Albion stands for humanity. The very title-page to Songs of Experience actually alludes to the ascent of the human soul, resulting from a difficult process of suffering: the lowest part of the plate shows two young people mourning before their dead parents’ bodies, somehow evoking the loneliness of man facing the darkness of the state of Experience. However, the higher part of the illustration symbolizes the joys following the passage through Experience: the two flying creatures «with arms outstretched» (Keynes 1970: 143) 36 Blake believes that God is everywhere on earth but man, blinded by the negativity of the ‘reasoning power’, does not perceive it: «God is in the lowest effects as well as in the highest causes; for he is become a worm that he may nourish the weak. For let it be remember’d that creation is God descending according to the weaknesses of man, for our Lord is the word of God & every thing on earth is the word of God & in its essence is God» (Annotations to Lavater, K. 87). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 105 might legitimately be read as representing humanity’s final rebirth and the soul’s ascent to eternity. 5. CONCLUSION Blake himself, despite the obscure and intricate symbolism of his writings, provides the reader with a definition of Innocence in one of the songs of his first collection, Poetical Sketches: Whilst Virtue is our walking-staff And Truth a Lantern to our path, We can abide life’s pelting storm That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm. Blow, boisterous wind, stern winter frown, Innocence is a winter’s gown; So clad, we’ll abide life’s pelting storm That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm. (Song by an Old Shepherd, ll. 5-12, K. 64). The real Innocence Blake alludes to, «a winter’s gown», is not the limiting and oppressive world described in Songs of Innocence but, rather, that combination of virtues that will help man to keep the right way through the state of Experience, the «stern winter frown». The very Plotinus maintains that evil has to be defeated by means of virtue: «Remember that the good of life […] is not due to anything in the partnership but to the repelling of evil by virtue» (Plot. Enn. I, 7, 3: transl. MacKenna – Page 1952: 27). As already discussed, also in the Eleusinian Mysteries the mystae had to undertake a complex process of purification and expiation before reaching the revelation of the epopteia; the initiate «was freed from the bondage of matter» only after «purifying himself by practice of the cathartic virtues, of which certain purifications in the mystic ceremonies were symbolic» (Taylor 1790-1791: 363). Indeed, one of the main precepts of the Eleusinian celebrations was self-knowledge, since the purifying activities of the Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 106 MARTINA ZAMPARO rites represented a process of inner growth37. In similar terms, man, after passing through both Innocence and Experience, becomes able to perceive the divinity of his soul and, thus, rejoices in the greatness of the divine dimension. Blake clearly maintains that man can face the suffering of mortal life only if his heart is «warm» or, in other words, if he keeps following the true values of Innocence, that is «a Lantern to our path». Blake is not assuming that the state of Experience has to be avoided; since true knowledge comes from “the Mole”, man has to experience evil in order to be redeemed and enlightened, so that «the Divine Mercy / Steps beyond and Redeems Man in the Body of Jesus» (J., 36: 54-55, K. 663-664). As pointed out in the present study, Blake’s thought, complex and highly symbolical, presupposes a constant dialogue with both the Eleusinian Mysteries and Plotinus’s and Porphyry’s Neoplatonist theories. In particular, the juxtaposition, suggested in this essay, with some extracts from the Enneads seems to throw further light on some of Blake’s most puzzling lines. Indeed, if read in the light of Neoplatonism, Blake’s works seem to revolve around the same, fundamental, concept: the soul’s eternal life and the human ability to renew after the passage through mortal existence. Università degli studi di Udine Dipartimento di Lingue e Letterature Straniere [email protected] 37 «One of the central precepts of the ancient Mysteries was ‘know thyself’. According to Socrates, ‘self-knowledge is the beginning of wisdom’. […] The sometimes willing, sometimes involuntary passages into underworlds of unacknowledged experience provide opportunities for attaining deeper selfknowledge to be used in self-healing» (Keller 1988: 49-50). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 107 BIBLIOGRAPHY Bottrall, M. 1970 William Blake. Songs of Innocence and of Experience, London, Macmillan. Bussanich, J. 1996 Plotinus’s metaphysics on the One, in Gerson, L.P. (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Plotinus, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. Catapano, G. 1995 Epékeina tês philosophías. L’eticità del filosofare in Plotino, Padova, CLEUP. 1996 Il ruolo della filosofia nella mistica plotiniana dell’Anima, in «Rivista di ascetica e mistica», 21, pp. 143-180. Chiaradonna, R. (a cura di) 2005 Studi sull’anima in Plotino, Napoli, Bibliopolis. Clinton, K. 1992 Myth and Cult. The Iconography of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Stockholm, Svenska Institutet i Athen. 2004 Epiphany in the Eleusinian Mysteries, in «Illinois Classical Studies», 29, pp. 85-109. Damon, S.F. 1969 William Blake. His Philosophy and Symbols, London, Dawsons of Pall Mall. 1973 A Blake Dictionary, London, Thames and Hudson. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 108 MARTINA ZAMPARO Eliade, M. 1959 Naissances Mystiques. Essai sur quelques types d’initiation, Paris, Gallimard, (Engl. tr. Rites and symbols of initiation. The mysteries of birth and rebirth, by Willard R. Task, Putnam, Connecticut, Spring Publications, 1994). 1976 Histoire des croyances et des idées religieuses. De l’âge de la pierre aux mystères d’Eleusis, Paris, Payot. (Engl. tr. A History of Religious Ideas. From the Stone Age to the Eleusinian Mysteries, by Willard R. Task, Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 1978). Erdman, D.V. 1974 The Illuminated Blake. All of William Blake’s illuminated works with a plate-by-plate commentary, Garden City, New York, Anchor Books/Doubleday. Evelyn-White, H.G. 1967 Hesiod. The Homeric Hymns and Homerica, Cambridge, Massachusetts, Harvard University Press. Findlay, J.N. 2003 Il mito della caverna, introduzione di G. Reale, trad. di M. Marchetto, Milano, Bompiani. Fleet, B. 2012 Ennead IV. 8. On the Descent of the Soul into Bodies, translation, introduction and commentary by Barrie Fleet, Las Vegas, Parmenides. Frye, N. (ed.) 1966 Blake. A Collection of Critical Essays, Englewood Cliffs, Prentice Hall Inc. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 109 Harper, G.M. 1961 The Neoplatonism of William Blake, Chapel Hill, The University of North Carolina Press. Harper, G.M. – Raine, K (eds.) 1969 Thomas Taylor the Platonist. Princeton, Princeton University Press. Selected Writings, Hagstrum, J.H. 1964 William Blake, Poet and Painter. An Introduction to the Illuminated Verse, Chicago, University of Chicago Press. Jung, C. – Kerényi, K. 1985 Science of mythology. Essays on the myth of the divine child and the mysteries of eleusis, London, Ark Paperbacks. Kanyororo, J.C. 2003 Les richesses intérieures de l’âme selon Plotin, in «Laval théologique et philosophique», 59.2, pp. 235-256. Keller, M.L. 1988 The Eleusinian Mysteries of Demeter and Persephone. Fertility, Sexuality and Rebirth, in «Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion», 4, pp. 27-54. Keynes, G. (ed.) 1970 William Blake, Songs of Innocence and of Experience, with introduction and commentary by G. Keynes, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Keynes, G. (ed.) 1972 William Blake, Complete Writings, edited by G. Keynes, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 110 MARTINA ZAMPARO Kerényi, K. 1967 Eleusis. Archetypal Image of Mother and Daughter, Princeton, New Jersey, Princeton University Press. Lee, R. 1967 Ut Pictura Poesis. The Humanistic Theory of Painting, New York, WW. Norton & Company. Lippolis, E. 2006 Mysteria: archeologia e culto del santuario di Demetra a Eleusi, Milano, Bruno Mondadori. Lister, R. 1975 Infernal Methods. A Study of William Blake’s Art Techniques, London, G. Bells and Sons. MacKenna, S. – Page, B.S. 1952 The Six Enneads. Plotinus, Chicago, Encyclopaedia Britannica. Mitchell, W.J.T. 1978 Blake’s Composite Art. A Study of the Illuminated Poetry, Princeton, Princeton University Press. Mylonas, G.E. 1969 Eleusis and the Eleusinian Princeton University Press. Mysteries, Princeton, Pierce, F.E. 1928 Blake and Thomas Taylor, in «PMLA», 43.4, pp. 11211141. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 NEOPLATONISM IN WILLIAM BLAKE 111 Raine, K. 1968 Blake and Tradition, I, Princeton, Princeton University Press. 1970 William Blake, London, Thames and Hudson. Porfirio, 2010 L’antro delle ninfe, a cura di L. Simonini, Milano, Adelphi. Procopio, A. 2005 La salvezza in Plotino, Roma, Aracne. Scarpi, P. 2002 Le Religioni dei Misteri. Eleusi, dionisismo, orfismo, Milano, A. Mondadori. Taylor, T. 1788 Concerning the Cave of the Nymphs, in Harper, G.M. – Raine, K., Thomas Taylor the Platonist. Selected Writings, Princeton, Princeton University Press. 1790-1791 A Dissertation on the Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries, Amsterdam [London], in Harper, G.M. – Raine, K., Thomas Taylor the Platonist. Selected Writings, Princeton, Princeton University Press. 1891 The Eleusinian and Bacchic Mysteries. A Dissertation, New York, J. W. Bouton. Ustinova, Y. 2009 Caves and the Ancient Greek Mind. Descending Underground in the Search for Ultimate Truth, Oxford, Oxford University Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 112 MARTINA ZAMPARO Wassoon, R.G. 1978 The Road to Eleusis: unveiling the secret of the mysteries, New York, Harcourt Brace Jovanovich. Warner, J. 1989 Blake and the Language of Art, Montreal, McGillQueen’s University Press. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA ITALIANA CONTEMPORANEA: 1 CONVIVENZA PACIFICA O SOPRAFFAZIONE? INNOCENZO MAZZINI ABSTRACT This paper has two basic objectives: 1. to provide an idea of the numbers and characteristics of the Graeco-Latin and English lexicon in the context of medical Italian contemporary language; 2. to understand the mutual relations and the prospects of the two lexicons within the medical Italian language. At this purpose, the exposition is divided into three parts: a) consistency of the lexicon of Graeco-Latin origin within the medical Italian language as a whole, its nature, historical and cultural causes of his success through the centuries; b) consistency of the English lexicon in the medical Italian language today, particularly in the branches of pharmacology, anesthesia and orthodontics, its nature, historical and cultural causes of the current success; c) relations between the two lexicons, i.e. Graeco-Latin and English, and their perspectives for future developments. 1. IL LESSICO GRECO-LATINO NELLA LINGUA MEDICA ITALIANA CONTEMPORANEA 1.1. Consistenza Un numero esatto di termini tecnici greco-latini integrali, o adattati al sistema grafico fonetico dell’italiano, originari, o introdotti nei secoli 1 Il presente contributo rielabora alcune conferenze tenute nelle Università di Lovanio, Liegi e Roma Sapienza. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 114 INNOCENZO MAZZINI successivi, semplici o composti, all’interno del lessico tecnico medico italiano, è difficile da stabilire2. Questo conteggio non è stato mai fatto, tuttavia è fuori di dubbio che essi costituiscono una percentuale rilevantissima. Se si tiene presente che attualmente il lessico medico italiano, come per altro anche i vari lessici medici delle diverse lingue occidentali contano più o meno 160/170.000 termini, per parole di origine greco-latina si può certamente parlare di molte migliaia. 1.2. Natura Per comprendere la natura di questo patrimonio lessicale greco-latino penso sia opportuno soffermarsi su almeno tre sue caratteristiche: differenti gradi di adattamento alla lingua italiana; introduzione nel linguaggio medico diversificata e scaglionata nei secoli; prevalenza delle forme composte. 1.2.1. Adattamento grafico-fonetico alla lingua italiana Le forme di origine greco-latina in uso nel linguaggio medico italiano possono essere integralmente latine o greche, parzialmente adattate alla struttura grafico-fonetica e morfologica dell’italiano, totalmente adattate. Le integrali sono costituite, per lo più, da espressioni, più che da singole parole, e sono di tradizione accademica: cutis laxa “pelle flaccida”, per vias naturales “attraverso le vie naturali” (riferito alla somministrazione di medicamenti), ab ingestis “in conseguenza degli alimenti ingeriti”, bacillus coli “colibacillo”, bacillus rigidus “bacillo rigido”, treponema pallidum “treponema pallido” (il batterio della sifi2 Come fonte principale di dati per questa prima parte ho utilizzato Mazzini (1989). Limitatamente al greco-latino farmaceutico, utile mi è stata la tesi di laurea di Mosca (2007-8). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 115 lide), ecc; sono più frequenti nel lessico anatomico, patologico e in quello biologico3. Non mancano in altre branche, ove per altro possono rispondere più a criteri pubblicitari o mnemotecnici che a criteri filologici, questo avviene soprattutto nelle denominazioni di medicinali, così noctem, accusativo di nox noctis, per designare un medicamento contro l’insonnia, o quiens, participio formato su un sostantivo quies, per un farmaco ansiolitico. Sono parzialmente adattate quelle forme che, pur avendo perduto i morfemi dei casi, conservano intatta la struttura fonetico-grafica interna. Queste forme generalmente non sono isolate, ma compaiono in composti: così ad es. auriculo-tomia, da auricula “orecchio”; medulloblastoma, da medulla “midollo”; oculo-rinite, da oculus “occhio”, ecc. Sono adattate totalmente quelle parole che hanno seguito la normale evoluzione grafico-fonetica tipica del passaggio dal greco al latino e dal latino all’italiano. Nel passaggio dal greco al latino si perdono, o meglio si trasformano i dittonghi greci ai ed oi che diventano ae, ed oe, vengono uniformate sul piano grafico le lettere eta ed epsilon, omicron e omega, ecc.; nel passaggio poi dal latino all’italiano si chiudono i dittonghi latini ae e oe in e; la y viene trascritta con i, si perdono le consonanti aspirate rese con le corrispondenti sorde, ecc. Così parole greche come g. arthritis > l. artritis > i. artrite; g. phlebitis > l. flebitis> i. flebite; g. haima > l. haema > i. ema- (sangue): questa parola entra solo come elemento di composizione in parole composte; gli esempi possono essere moltiplicati. 3 In ogni caso sono in costante calo nei manuali universitari e nelle pubblicazioni scientifiche, effetto evidente della perdita di terreno degli studi classici nelle scuole secondarie. La stessa cosa nota Mortara Garavelli (2001: 183-7) a proposito dei latinismi integrali nel linguaggio giuridico italiano contemporaneo. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 116 INNOCENZO MAZZINI 1.2.2. Introduzione scaglionata nel corso dei secoli Le migliaia di forme greco-latine correnti nell’italiano medico contemporaneo sono entrate nell’uso in epoca diverse. Così del punto di vista storico si può, grosso modo, constatare quanto segue: a) che la maggior parte appartiene mondo antico greco e latino, dunque risalgono ai secoli dell’antichità: epilessia (g. epilepsia), alopecia (g. alopekia), epigastrio (g. epigastrion), infiammazione (l. inflammatio), intestino cieco (l. intestinum caecum), pupilla (l. pupilla), ecc.; b) che sovente, tuttavia, antico è solo il significante, non il significato: il significato medico entra nel significante antico (a.) solo in epoca medievale (me.) o moderna (mo.) o contemporanea (c.), grazie primariamente al procedimento della metafora. Forse è il procedimento più usato nella formazione dei linguaggi tecnici, non solo di quello medico. Qualche esempio: ippocampo, g. hippókampos “cavalluccio marino” (a.), ma “parte del cervello” (mo.); capsula, l. capsula “piccola cassa” (a.), ma “rivestimento di vari organi” (mo.), ad es. “capsula articolare” (c.); embolo, g. embolon “cuneo” (a.), ma “coagulo” (mo.); estro, g. oistron, “libidine” (a.), ma “attività sessuale femminile” (mo.); follicolo, l. folliculus “sacco-vescica di animali” (a.), ma “cavità microscopica” (mo.); ecc.; c) che alcuni termini, non privi di successo anche in quanto lessemi, sono creati in epoca medievale e moderna, pur entro le possibilità delle lingue latina e greca in analogia ad altri esistenti e comunque con elementi esistenti. Tale è il caso di duodeno, dal lat. medievale duodenum, sostantivizzazione al singolare del numerale distributivo latino duodeni; morbillo, dal lat. medievale morbilli -orum, creato sul latino classico morbus; sinovia, dal latino del ‘500 synovia invenzione di Paracelso; ecc.; d) che le parole composte appartengono nei singoli elementi all’antichità, ma in sé stesse, in quanto composte, risalgono all’epoca medievale o moderna e soprattutto contemporanea: così meningoencefal-ite (c.) “infiammazione delle meningi e sofferenza del Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 117 cervello”; gastro-enter-ite (c.) “infiammazione dell’intestino e dello stomaco”; ecc.4 1.2.3. Prevalenza delle forme composte Le parole composte di origine greco-latina sono molte di più delle semplici. A proposito di esse si può dire che: a) pur essendo i singoli elementi in genere antichi, i composti in quanto tali sono, in maggior parte, di creazione recente, epoca moderna e contemporanea. Due esempi: elco-log-ia (c.): “scienza che si occupa delle ulcere” da g. hélkos (a.) “ulcera”+ g. lógos (.a.) “discorso”, + -ia. (a.) “astrazione, stato, azione”, ecc.; embriogenesi (c.): “formazione dell’embrione” da g. émbrion (a.) “embrione” + g. génesis (a.) “formazione”, ecc.; b) in prevalenza gli elementi di composizione sono o tutti greci, o tutti latini, ma non mancano composti ibridi, cioè greco latini o greco latini/lingue moderne: es. falc-em-ia (c.) “malattia caratterizzata dai globuli rossi a forma di falce”, da l. falx -cis (a.) “falce”, + g. haima (a.) “sangue” + -ia “astrazione, patologia”; feto-pat-ia (c.), da l. fetus (a.) “feto” + g. pathos (a.) “sofferenza” + -ia (a.) “stato, condizione, azione”; uro-san (c.) “medicinale urologico” da g. úron urina (a.) + l. sano “guarisco” (a.); ecc. Esempi di composti grecolatini/lingue moderne possono essere micro-bodies “microrganismi” da g. mikros (a.) + ingl. bodies (c.), pelade-fob-ia “paura di contrarre l’alopecia” (c.) da fr. pélade + g. phobos + ia, ecc.; c) gli elementi di composizione di origine latina, se hanno subìto una evoluzione grafico-fonetica in quanto termini semplici nel passaggio dal latino all’italiano comune, recuperano la forma antica quan4 In Mazzini (1989) viene segnalata la collocazione cronologica di alcune centinaia di forme greco-latine, sia in quanto elementi di composizione, sia in quanto composti, dunque nell’insieme un quadro abbastanza ampio, in grado di fornire un’idea globale della proliferazione delle diverse forme in rapporto alle varie epoche storiche. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 118 INNOCENZO MAZZINI do entrano in composizione, così per esempio l. cilium che nell’italiano comune produce ciglio, non entrerà mai in composizione come ciglio, ma sempre come cilio-, ad es. ciliectomia “asportazione del corpo ciliare”; l. lepra, che produce i. lebbra, non entrerà in composizione come lebbra, ma come lepra: leproma “tumore della lebbra”; e così tanti altri. 1.3. Ragioni storico-culturali della entità e della natura del lessico medico greco-latino Fornita un’idea della consistenza e della natura del lessico grecolatino nell’ambito della lingua medica italiana contemporanea, accenniamo rapidamente alle cause storico-culturali e scientifiche che lo hanno favorito. Le spiegazioni che si possono fornire sono molteplici. In concreto, riassumendo e schematizzando, le seguenti: a) la persistenza e la lettura in lingua originale, e come testi di studio, dei grande medici dell’antichità (Ippocrate, Galeno, Celso, Dioscoride e altri) nelle università tardo-medievali e rinascimentali, fino al ‘600; b) la capacità di formare composti tipica del greco, ma non delle lingue romanze e nemmeno del latino; c) la letteratura medica scientifica scritta rigorosamente in latino fino al ‘600 in Italia e fino a tutto il ‘700 nei paesi anglo-germanici. Si pensi al grande peso che in questo senso, come modello e come esempio può aver avuto, per il lessico anatomico, la Fabrica anatomica del Vesalio della prima metà del ‘500 (Mazzini 1999)5; d) le forme ed espressioni latine integrali ricercate almeno da taluni, fino a tempi recenti, anche come elemento di status symbol; e) la costituzione di vari nomina o terminologie create in primis in latino e poi tradotte nelle lingue nazionali, si pensi ai Nomina 5 Mazzini (1999: 289-315). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 119 anatomica, histologica, embryologica, microbiologica codificati e approvati in vari congressi internazionali, come alle denominazioni latine dei virus e batteri, distinti in famiglie, sottofamiglie e generi6. 2. IL LESSICO INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA ITALIANA CONTEMPORANEA In questa seconda parte non fornisco dati quantitativi esaurienti né, tanto meno, completi, operazione, per altro, in se stessa precaria. Mi limito a sottolineare alcune tendenze nell’uso dell’anglicismo, all’interno della lingua medica italiana contemporanea, quali mi è sembrato di scorgere in una letteratura di genere diverso, propria di alcune branche o scienze mediche, in particolare nelle branche della farmacologia7, dell’anestesia8 e dell’ortodonzia9. 2.1. Consistenza Come giustamente rilevava già qualche anno fa Dardano (1994: 501), a proposito dei linguaggi scientifici in generale, sono soprattutto gli strumenti e le tecniche che sempre più spesso vengono denominate 6 Sui caratteri di questi latinismi, creati in epoca moderna e contemporanea, rinvio Mazzini (1992: 79-103). Per un’idea delle denominazioni dei virus, delle norme in vigore a livello internazionale, fornite dall’International Committee on Taxonomy of Viruses – ICTV –, si può consultare Chiarini (1997: 16-25) Rinvio a Mazzini (1989: 191-2) anche per la bibliografia concernente i vari nomina. 7 Per la farmacologia mi sono basato sul Prontuario Farmaceutico Italiano (PFI) – Edizione del 2007. 8 Per l’anestesia mi sono servito di Villani – Serafini (2004) e della rivista Acta Anaesthesiologica Italica, Organo ufficiale della Società italiana di Anestesia, Rianimazione, Emergenza e Dolore, edita da La Garangola, Padova. 9 Per l’ortodonzia ho usato Daskalogiannakis (20029) e la rivista Progress in orthodontics, Pubblicazione dalla Società italiana di ortodonzia (SIDO), Varese, Reggiani, fondata nel 1999. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 120 INNOCENZO MAZZINI con ricorso all’inglese. Indubbiamente anche nella lingua medica italiana è soprattutto nelle denominazioni delle tecniche, strumenti e metodiche di utilizzo degli stessi, che l’inglese avanza in modo più vistoso10. Atteggiamenti diversi, di maggiore o minore apertura nei confronti dell’inglese, si notano a seconda del pubblico cui un determinato scritto medico è rivolto (ricercatori, studenti, largo pubblico profano), delle branche (anatomia, patologia generale, chirurgia, anestesia, odontoiatria, ecc.), a seconda che si tratti di testo originale inglese e tradotto in italiano, o di testo originale in italiano. È chiaro che l’anglicismo sarà più frequente nella comunicazione diretta, scritta e orale, tra ricercatori, nelle branche più tecnologizzate, ed infine nella letteratura di traduzione. Il fenomeno ha interessato e interessa tutte le lingue mediche moderne occidentali e non solo, ha determinato e determina anche fenomeni di reazione, di fastidio e di rifiuto dell’inglese stesso, o comunque riflessioni su come arginare, dunque tradurre nelle rispettive lingue nazionali gli anglicismi11. 10 Gualdo – Scarpino (2007: 257-281, in particolare p. 276) riportano un quadro di dati e frequenze di anglicismi totali, anglicismi integrali in rapporto al lessico fondamentale di varie scienze, da cui si ricava la conferma che più ricche di anglicismi sono le scienze più giovani e più tecnologizzate, in particolare appare evidente il contrasto in questo senso tra il lessico fondamentale della medicina e quello dell’informatica una scienza giovanissima e altamente tecnologizzata: la medicina presenta su un lessico fondamentale di 14053 termini 31 anglicismi integrali e 61 totali, contro l’informatica che su un lessico fondamentale di 980 termini presenta 451 anglicismi integrali e 487 totali. Ma, ripeto, è del lessico fondamentale che si tratta. Avviene anche in medicina più o meno la stessa cosa, ove si considera lessici specialistici, e più recenti. 11 In Spagna la rivista elettronica «Panace@», che ha iniziato le sue pubblicazioni nel 2000, presenta una serie di contributi su singoli problemi legati alla traduzione in spagnolo di testi medici, recensisce segnala, dizionari specifici, in circolazione, ma offre anche dizionari limitati on line e no su singoli settori con possibili corrispondenze in lingua spagnola. In Francia sono state fatte pubblicazioni sul tema della traduzione in francese dei più noti anglicismi, come Sournia (1974), cui ha fatto seguito, nell’ambito del Conseil International de Langue Française, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 121 2.2. Natura L’uso degli anglicismi nella lingua medica italiana contemporanea, sembra consistere soprattutto in: a) denominazioni di strumenti inventati e introdotti recentemente; b) designazioni di procedimenti metodiche, tecniche; c) nomi di medicinali; d) sigle (e loro scioglimento) relative a tecniche, metodiche, medicinali, ecc.; e) parole ed espressioni in sé non mediche ma di largo uso in altri settori scientifici, o addirittura ampiamente volgarizzate a livello di lingua comune; f) calchi lessicali e/o semantici. 2.2.1. Denominazioni di strumenti Questo è indubbiamente l’ambito in cui l’introduzione dell’inglese è più massiccia e, ovviamente, più evidente in quelle branche più recenti e più dipendenti dalla tecnologia contemporanea, per altro nata e tutta una serie di dizionari specialistici, pubblicati a partire dal 2000, come il Dictionnaire di biologie, il Dictionnaire de dermatologie, il Dictionnaire di Psychiatrie, ed altri ancora. In Italia il problema di una invadenza incontrollata dell’inglese nei linguaggi scientifici in generale, dunque compreso quello della medicina, è stato sollevato in un incontro tra scienziati e linguisti presso l’Accademia della Crusca, per discutere il tema “Lingua italiana e scienza”, ma non si può dire che ci siano stati dei reali e fattivi interventi per limitare l’invadenza dell’anglicismo, o meglio per offrire agli addetti delle concrete possibilità alternative all’uso di anglicismi, come appunto dizionari specifici. C’è una associazione italiana di terminologia (ASSITERM) che per ora ha prodotto, nel settore medico un “Vocabolario panlatino di emodinamica”, la quale, per altro, non costituisce una reale alternativa all’inglese, ma piuttosto una rassegna di termini italiani di emodinamica e delle loro corrispondenze nelle lingue neolatine. Per altri contributi a livello si altre lingue europee, tesi descrivere e/o limitare l’invadenza dell’anglicismo in medicina si veda Mazzini (1989: 191-2). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 122 INNOCENZO MAZZINI sviluppata fuori della medicina, come in primis l’elettronica, e la meccanica. Dunque nessun anglismo di questo genere ad es. nell’anatomia e nella patologia generale, o fisiologia, ma molti nell’anestesia, molti di più nell’ortodonzia. Alcuni esempi: edgewise, un apparecchio frontalmente posposto, un arco rettangolare legato all’interno da attacchi (brakets) esterni, cementati su ogni singolo dente; retainer, potrebbe essere tradotto con “stabilizzatore”, un apparecchio fisso o rimovibile per mantenere in posizione denti stabilizzati dopo il trattamento ortodontico,ce ne sono diversi tipi; sidestream “monitore della corrente”. 2.2.2. Denominazioni di procedimenti Ugualmente le denominazioni di strumenti e procedimenti diagnostici o terapeutici, introdotte altrove in area anglofona, vengono recepite, ed usate correntemente, anche se una traduzione italiana, potrebbe essere agevole e semplice. Esempi: biofeedback “reimmissione di dati biologici”; sludging “riempimento di fessure, fenomeno di impilamento delle emazie in caso di shock anafilattico”; Patient-Controlled Analgesia “anestesia controllata dal paziente”, una tecnica anestesiologica che permette al paziente, alla comparsa del dolore, di somministrarsi una quantità prestabilita di oppioidi attraverso un apparecchio computerizzato. 2.2.3. Denominazioni di medicinali La scomparsa di molte piccole case farmaceutiche ed il loro assorbimento da parte delle grandi multinazionali ha finito per facilitare sia l’ingresso delle denominazioni latine e greche sia di quelle inglesi. Queste ultime evidenziano, come per altro anche quelle latine e greche, più o meno esplicitamente, gli effetti o la composizione o il principio attivo del medicinale, o le modalità di assunzione, ecc., secondo Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 123 un criterio di denominazione dei medicamenti che, per altro, è molto antico, già proprio del linguaggio farmaceutico geco e latino antico. Un paio di esempi: Careflu “aver cura dell’influenza”, un cortisonico per aerosol; Breathquality “qualità del respiro” un diagnostico per la rilevazione dell’Helicobacter pylori nell’aria espirata; Control “controllo”, un farmaco per il controllo dell’ansia; Honeycold, “raffreddore col miele, un decongestionante a base di miele per la cura del raffreddore”. Non raramente alla denominazione del medicinale si aggiunge un aggettivo o un’espressione che del medicinale sottolineano le modalità di assunzione, la natura, ecc. In questi ultimi casi si tratta di aggiunte basate su termini molto comuni, tali da essere percepiti dal pubblico il più ampio possibile, così light “mite”: iridina light, un collirio; spray “spruzzo”: cicatrene spray, un cicatrizzante da spruzzare; fast “rapido”: mesulid fast “un farmaco di rapido effetto”; e gli esempi possono continuare. 2.2.4. Sigle Una quantità di anglicismi entra con le sigle, che generalmente conservano la struttura inglese (determinante prima del determinato), anche ove esse nel contesto vengono sciolte seguendo la struttura italiana. Così ad es. in Villani – Serafini (2004: 313) varie tecniche di ventilazione anestesiologica, vengono presentate in italiano e tuttavia accompagnate dalla sigla inglese: “Ventilazione meccanica in pressione positiva intermittente” (IPPV, Intermittent Positive Pressure Ventilation); “Ventilazione meccanica in pressione positiva continua” (CPPV, Continuous Positive Pressure Ventilation). Le sigle riguardano, anch’esse, il più delle volte tecniche e strumenti, ma non solo; possono riguardare anche patologie, quando queste sono di recente descrizione. Per queste ultime un caso certamente a tutti noto è AIDS (Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome). In Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 124 INNOCENZO MAZZINI questo caso in italiano la sigla inglese è divenuta, almeno per i profani, il nome proprio della malattia. Anche nel lessico farmacologico talora la sigla inglese diventa il nome del medicinale, è il caso di GERET, un medicinale di uso diagnostico per svelare il deficit dell’ ormone della crescita (Growth Hormone Releasing Factor); MMR, un vaccino per l’immunizzazione contro morbillo parotite e rosolia (Mumps Measles Rubeola). 2.2.5. Forme vulgate non originariamente mediche In un contesto culturale e linguistico generale in cui il senso del purismo linguistico è quasi bandito, come un retaggio del passato, quasi come una forma di nazionalismo da rigettare, il linguaggio medico italiano, più di altri subisce il fascino dell’anglicismo comune, e ciò soprattutto nei testi, manuali o saggi tradotti dall’inglese: Prendo ad esempio il saggio di Bowman – Johnston (2007: 124-128): vi si leggono usasti con estrema disinvoltura termini non tecnici, come new age, standard, panel, scanner, lifting, trend, stage e molti altri. 2.2.6. Anglicismi nascosti Gli anglicismi più usati, o all’interno di una specialità, o nel linguaggio medico comune, finiscono non di rado per ‘travestirsi’, italianizzarsi cioè nel loro aspetto esteriore: si tratta in sostanza di imprestiti assimilati morfologicamente e graficamente, o di calchi semantici. Si possono addurre numerosissimi esempi, mi limito a un paio nell’ambito dell’ortodonzia: distale, assimilazione grafico-fonetica dell’inglese distal lett. “distante”, nel linguaggio ortodontico, un dente che si allontana dalla linea mediale dentale. Ovviamente su “distale” si costruiscono vari derivati, che tuttavia hanno il corrispondente inglese: il sostantivo distalizzazione, ingl. distalisation, o distalizzare, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 125 ingl. distalise; bondato dall’inglese bonded “incollato” cioè un dente su cui un attacco è stato incollato. Nel linguaggio medico comune, un esempio di calco semantico, molto diffuso e per altro in fase di introduzione anche in altri linguaggi scientifici, è evidenza nel senso di ‘prova’ dall’inglese evidency. 2.3. Cause dell’anglicizzazione della lingua medica contemporanea Si danno cause di ordine generale e planetarie che influiscono anche sul fenomeno specifico della lingua medica italiana, come la supremazia economica, tecnologica e militare degli USA, la mondializzazione del commercio, il superamento di ogni frontiera nazionale da parte di internet che parla inglese, ecc. Su queste cause generali, come anche sull’anglicizzazione di altre lingue settoriali o speciali è stato scritto molto12. Soffermiamoci un istante sulle cause più specifiche, anche in rapporto alle singole tipologie di anglicismi medici, di cui abbiamo parlato. Le denominazioni inglesi di strumenti e tecniche, di medicinali, come anche di sigle, trovano la loro prima e più convincente spiegazione nell’importazione della cosa, già ‘battezzata’, cioè già denominata, nei paesi di origine, il più delle volte anglofoni. A questa causa di fondo si aggiunge la disponibilità della categoria degli addetti all’arte, nel caso specifico dei medici, a recepire assimilare e utilizzare forme ed espressioni inglesi. La disponibilità della categoria, a sua volta si può ricondurre a tutta una serie motivi pratici e psicologici come: a) la diffusa conoscenza della lingua inglese, soprattutto tra i medici più giovani, anche grazie alla diffusione di libri e grammatiche spe12 Rinvio ad una serie contributi interessanti, ricchi di bibliografia, come quelli V. Dezeljin, C. Furiassi, C. Giovanardi, V. Pulcini, G. Teric, su vari aspetti e vari settori di ingresso dell’inglese nella lingua italiana, comparsi in AA.VV. (2007). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 126 INNOCENZO MAZZINI cificamente dedicati all’inglese medico: vedi a titolo di esempio Ribes – Mejía (2011); b) la prevalenza dell’inglese nelle pubblicazioni a carattere scientifico medico, anche quelle edite in Italia13; c) la capacità dell’inglese a formare composti che, proprio in quanto tali, hanno le caratteristiche della concisione ma insieme chiarezza e descrittività); d) le radici ed i temi dell’inglese sovente comuni con le lingue romanze e dunque anche con l’italiano; e) la percezione, sia all’interno che all’esterno della categoria o gruppo sociale dei medici, dell’inglese come elemento di distinzione, come status symbol14. Quest’ultimo motivo, direi che meglio degli altri può giustificare, o meglio spiegare l’uso dell’anglismo come traduzione e glossa dell’italiano, il ricorso all’anglismo da parte di taluni medici anche nel contatto con il paziente, o in articoli che dovrebbero essere di carattere divulgativo, scritti da medici in giornali che non hanno pretese scientifiche. Per l’anglismo travestito si possono dare altre spiegazioni diverse o contrarie: a) necessità di farsi comprendere al di fuori degli addetti; b) ignoranza dell’inglese; c) un certo purismo o attaccamento alla lingua nazionale, ecc. 13 Il fenomeno a livello mondiale è macroscopico. Mi limito a riportare un dato significativo, anche se relativo: nella biblioteca della Facoltà di Medicina dell’Università Cattolica di Roma, ho contato circa 700 riviste scientifiche mediche, attive nel 2008-9, e di queste appena una decina in lingue nazionali, in italiano solo 5. Per giunta poi queste ultime con articoli, in grande parte o in inglese, o in inglese e italiano. Si noti che alcune hanno cambiato la denominazione italiana in quella inglese: così ad es. “Cardiologia” è divenuta dal 2000 “Italian Heart Journal”; “Rivista Italiana di Pediatria” “Italian Journal of Pediatrics” dal 2001. 14 Un quadro complessivo e insieme sintetico di cause ed effetti della presenza degli anglicismi nella lingua medica italiana in Serianni (2005: 183-188). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 127 Tutte queste cause, generali e specifiche hanno un peso rilevante, e lo hanno in genere in tutte le altre lingue europee, come anche in altri linguaggi scientifici italiani, quali quello della chimica, dell’elettronica, dell’economia, dell’informatica, ecc. 2. GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE Dopo aver, seppure rapidamente, illustrato la consistenza e la natura dei due lessici che si trovano oggi a convivere nel quadro della lingua medica italiana contemporanea, dopo averne evidenziato le ragioni storiche e culturali che ne sono alla base, viene spontaneo chiedersi: quale la convivenza dei due lessici? Tranquilla nel senso che ognuno riveste un suo ruolo ed occupa un suo spazio, oppure invadente e prevaricatrice dell’uno nei confronti dell’altro? Quali sono le prospettive dei due lessici? 3.1. Qualità della convivenza Al presente, in linea di massima, si tratta di una convivenza pacifica: ognuno dei due lessici occupa uno spazio definito e suo proprio. Come si è già visto il greco-latino occupa lo spazio delle specialità tradizionali, (ma anche talune più recenti come quella della microbiologia) e comunque all’interno di queste designa le conoscenze acquisite, grosso modo fino alla prima metà del secolo XX. L’inglese designa strumenti e tecniche e conoscenze introdotte soprattutto a partire dalla seconda metà del secolo XX. Dunque tutto pacifico? Campi separati per i due lessici all’interno della lingua medica italiana contemporanea, nessuna reciproca influenza? A dire il vero una certa interferenza del lessico inglese su quello greco-latino, nell’ambito della lingua medica italiana contemporanea, ad osservare bene, c’è. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 128 INNOCENZO MAZZINI L’interferenza dell’inglese sul lessico greco-latino medico italiano più evidente, appare quella fonetico-grafico-morfologica. Come ho accennato all’inizio la maggior parte dei lessemi grecolatini nell’ambito della lingua medica contemporanea è assimilata alla fonetica, grafia e morfologia dell’italiano, e ciò coerentemente con un processo evolutivo, che investe tutto il sistema lingua dell’italiano. Ora non sono infrequenti casi di forme greche e latine che, reintrodotte in italiano attraverso l’inglese, recuperano in parte o in toto la grafia antica: così accanto a cinesioterapia si incontra sempre più spesso kinesioterapia chiaramente dall’inglese kinesiotherapy, g. kinesis “movimento”; accanto a sindrome ricorre spesso syndrome, g, syndrome; accanto a ritrazione, ricorre come termine tecnico in odontoiatria retrazione, movimento posteriore di un dente, l. retractio, rientrato dall’inglese retraction. Si danno anche casi di introduzioni di forme ed espressioni integralmente latine attraverso la via dell’inglese come dens evaginatus “dente caratterizzato da una cuspide sovranumeraria” o dens invaginatus “un dente all’interno di un altro dente” in odontoiatria; thoracopagus “gemello siamese unito con il torace” o pygopagus “gemello siamese unito con il bacino” in anatomia patologica, ecc. Queste forme ed espressioni in italiano, secondo la tradizione di assimilazione grafico fonetica, sarebbero dovute divenire “dente evaginato”, “dente invaginato”, “toracopago”, “pigopago”, ecc. La lingua medica inglese, come sua consuetudine da sempre, ha utilizzato e continua ad utilizzare questi latinismi integrali come tali, cioè senza inserirli nel suo sistema grafico fonetico; l’italiano al contrario li ha sempre inseriti nel suo sistema grafico fonetico, in grazia della continuità latino > italiano. Si danno anche casi, soprattutto in scritti di traduzione, di recupero di latinismi integrali non strettamente tecnici che, nell’italiano comune, ma anche colto, non avevano avuto successo: così le sigle e.g. (exempli gratia) o i.e. (id est), entrambe in italiano sostituite dalle espressioni comunissime, sulla bocca di tutti noi: “per esempio”, e “cioè”. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 129 2.2. Prospettive per i due lessici A mio avviso, un avanzare ulteriore dell’inglese nell’ambito della lingua medica italiana, perdurando le condizioni generali e specifiche attuali, culturali ed economiche, è molto verisimile e difficilmente arrestabile soprattutto in quelle branche che più sono dipendenti dalla chimica, dall’elettronica e dall’informatica, dalla robotica, ecc. Il lessico latino-greco potrà reggere ancora nelle branche di base e più tradizionali, ma c’è il forte rischio di una sua anglicizzazione soprattutto a livello fonetico-grafico-morfologico. Questo rischio è legato all’avanzare complessivo dell’inglese da un lato, ed al retrocedere della formazione classica nelle giovani generazioni. E per altro, l’insegnamento delle lingue classiche, in molte scuole, ignorando i pur esistenti suggerimenti ministeriali, continua ad essere prevalentemente grammaticale, e a trascurare un apprendimento metodico e ragionato del lessico. Università degli Studi di Macerata [email protected] BIBLIOGRAFIA AA.VV. 2007 Identità e diversità nella lingua e nella letteratura italiana. Atti del XVIII congresso dell’A.I.S.L.L.I., Lovanio, Louvain La Neuve, Anversa, Bruxelles, 16-19 luglio 2003, Firenze, Cesati. Bowman, J. – Johnston, L. 2007 Ortodonzia ed estetica, in «Progress in orthodontics», 8,1, pp. 124-128. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 130 INNOCENZO MAZZINI Chiarini A. 1997 Tassonomia e nomenclatura dei virus, in «Bollettino di Microbiologia e Indagini di Laboratorio News», 3, pp. 16-25. Dardano, M. 1994 I linguaggi scientifici, in Serianni L. – Trifone, P. (a cura di), Storia della lingua italiana, II, Torino, Einaudi, pp. 497-551. Daskalogiannakis, J. 2002 Glossario dei termini ortodontici, Berlino, Chicago, Quintessence Publishing. Gualdo, R. – Scarpino, C. 2007 Quanto pesa l’inglese? Anglicismi nella vita quotidiana e proposte per la coabitazione, in Identità e diversità nella lingua e nella letteratura italiana. Atti del XVIII Congresso dell’A.I.S.L.L.I., Firenze, Casati, pp. 257-281. Mazzini, I. 1989 Introduzione alla terminologia medica. Decodificazione dei composti e derivati di origine greca e latina, Bologna, Pàtron. 1999 Appunti per una storia del latino dei medici dal Rinascimento ai nostri giorni. Saggio di indagine in «Annali della Facoltà di Lettere e Filosofia di Macerata», 32, pp. 289315. 1992 Presenza del latino nei linguaggi italiani contemporanei della scienza. Saggio di indagine sulle lingue settoriali dei medici e dei botanici, in Rocca, S. (a cura di), Latina Didaxis, VII, Genova, Compagnia dei Librai, pp. 79-102. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 GRECO-LATINO E INGLESE NELLA LINGUA MEDICA 131 Mortara Garavelli, B. 2001 Le parole e la giustizia, Torino, Einaudi. Mosca, A. 2007-8 La persistenza delle radici classiche nel nome commerciale dei farmaci, Macerata, Tesi di laurea Facoltà Lettere. Ribes, R. – Mejía, S. 2011 Inglese per cardiologi, Milano, Springer Verlag Italia. Serianni, L. 2005 Un treno di sintomi, Milano, Garzanti. Sournia, J.Ch. 1974 Langage médical moderne, Paris, Hachette. Villani, A. – Serafini, G. 2004 Anestesia neonatale e pediatrica, Milano, Masson. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 LA GRANDE GRAMMATICA ITALIANA DI CONSULTAZIONE E LA GRAMMATICA DELL’ITALIANO ANTICO: STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI ABSTRACT In this article the two reference grammars we directed and published in the past years are presented. Both works are the result of the collaboration between different authors, but they have a common theoretical approach. In the first part of the article we focus on some aspects which are common to the two Grammars (e.g. their synchronic perspective, their descriptive and - partially - explicative aim), but we also notice some differences that necessarily arise between them. The latter are mainly due to the fact that the first grammar is based on the linguistic intuitions of speakers and listeners (and these intuitions are also socially shared), while the second one analyses the data of a well-defined historical corpus composed of literary and non-literary works of the 13th century and the beginning of the 14th century. In the second part of the article we discuss in greater detail seven syntactic issues in order to show the difference between Old and Modern Italian. 1. ALCUNE CARATTERISTICHE FONDAMENTALI DELLE DUE OPERE Negli ultimi trentacinque anni o poco più1 abbiamo dedicato le nostre forze e le nostre conoscenze a due opere di grande mole e di grande impegno per noi, tutte e due aventi per oggetto la lingua italiana: la 1 La prima idea e i primi contatti per la realizzazione della prima opera sono del 1975; quelli per la seconda, la cui preparazione è durata relativamente di meno, del 1996. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 134 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI Grande grammatica italiana di consultazione, a cura di Lorenzo Renzi, Giampaolo Salvi e Anna Cardinaletti, 3 voll., Bologna, Il Mulino, 2a ed. 2001 (1a ed. 1988-1991-1995): Vol. I: La frase. I sintagmi nominale e preposizionale, pp. 787; Vol. II: I sintagmi verbale, aggettivale, avverbiale. La subordinazione, pp. 957; Vol. III: Tipi di frase, deissi, formazione delle parole, pp. 642; e la Grammatica dell’italiano antico, a cura di Giampaolo Salvi e Lorenzo Renzi, Bologna, Il Mulino, 2 voll., 2010, pp. 1745: Vol. I: La frase, Il sintagma nominale, Il sintagma verbale, Gli altri sintagmi; Vol. II: La subordinazione, Tipi di frase, La deissi, Fenomeni testuali, Morfologia, Fonologia. Sono due strumenti che pensiamo possano essere utili per il docente colto, per l’approfondimento specifico della sua preparazione professionale, e in qualche caso per i suggerimenti che possono fornire a singoli interventi mirati. Dato lo sviluppo delle conoscenze nella linguistica degli ultimi decenni e la conseguente specializzazione e, in qualche caso, iperspecializzazione, abbiamo pensato di non fare tutto il lavoro da noi, ma di interessare all’opera una pluralità di autori: trentasei nella prima opera, trentacinque nella seconda. Il nostro lavoro è stato certo alleggerito, ma a noi, Lorenzo Renzi e poi Giampaolo Salvi, come curatori2 è spettato il compito importante di garantire la coerenza e l’omogeneità delle opere nel loro complesso e di curarne il volto complessivo e finale. Non si tratta infatti di raccolte di capitoli, ma di opere organiche, che non dovevano presentare contraddizioni tra una parte e l’altra, né lacune né ripetizioni ingiustificate. Che poi qualcuno di questi difetti possa apparire qua e là, è facilmente comprensibile, e speriamo che possa essere perdonato con la gravosità del carico. 2 Nella Grande Grammatica si è aggiunta anche Anna Cardinaletti. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 135 Nonostante le due opere abbiano una fonte di ispirazione teorica comune e mirino a realizzazioni simili, la diversità della materia imponeva di per sé alcune differenze. La maggiore diversità riguarda la fonte dei dati sui quali si fondano le regolarità (e irregolarità) grammaticali. Nella Grande Grammatica, dedicata all’italiano moderno, i dati sono forniti da quella che in termini tecnici si chiama ‘intuizione dell’autore-parlante/ascoltatore’, e solo occasionalmente da esempi d’autore (per es. per testimoniare stili particolari o forme e fenomeni poco conosciuti). Nella Grammatica dell’italiano antico ci siamo serviti invece di esempi d’autore ricavati dalla lettura diretta dei testi o consultando il corpus elettronico TLIO (Tesoro della Lingua Italiana delle Origini) allestito dall’Opera del Vocabolario Italiano3. In realtà nemmeno qui abbiamo fatto a meno delle intuizioni del parlante/ascoltatore, un parlante/ascoltatore che in questo caso non può essere un nativo (l’italiano antico appartiene a sette secoli fa), ma è lo studioso che ha acquisito il dominio della lingua del passato con la lettura e con lo studio, un po’ come con la lettura e con lo studio si acquisisce la capacità di parlare una lingua straniera e di dare su questa dei giudizi di grammaticalità (certo, in molti casi meno sicuri di quelli che si darebbero sulla propria lingua). A parte questa differenza, per molti aspetti le due Grammatiche hanno caratteristiche comuni, frutto della persistente fiducia in un metodo di lavoro e in certe basi teoriche consolidate, di cui parleremo sotto. Cominciamo con la finalità delle opere, che vuole essere descrittiva e, quando possibile, esplicativa: cioè descrivere l’effettivo funzionamento della lingua e, in certi casi, perché il funzionamento sia quello descritto e non un altro. Nel caso dell’italiano moderno è allontanata ogni pretesa normativa, connaturata con la vecchia idea della grammatica, quanto mai resistente – è vero – nella scuola, ma estranea a ogni concezione moderna. 3 Il corpus è consultabile sui siti: http://artfl-project.uchicago.edu/content/ovi e http://gattoweb.ovi.cnr.it Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 136 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI Le due grammatiche presentano un nucleo di contenuto comune: sintassi e pragmatica, morfologia essenzialmente come formazione delle parole. Ma il secondo volume ha esteso lo studio anche alla morfologia flessiva e, con maggiore ambizione, nonostante la difficoltà di avere come oggetto uno stato antico della lingua, alla fonologia (che può essere conosciuta solo indirettamente attraverso la grafia). I riferimenti teorici stanno in alcuni approcci che hanno rinnovato dopo la metà del Novecento lo studio linguistico: particolarmente la grammatica generativo-trasformazionale, ma anche, per alcuni capitoli, la pragmatica, che è piuttosto un ramo della filosofia del linguaggio, e la linguistica del testo, che estende l’analisi oltre i confini della frase. Per evitare almeno una parte delle difficoltà di comprensione di quanto abbiamo scritto, abbiamo stabilito fin dall’inizio di usare sempre, quando possibile, la terminologia della grammatica tradizionale, inserendo nella trattazione neologismi della linguistica moderna solo quando fossero davvero indispensabili (e lo sono stati in diversi casi) e dopo averli debitamente spiegati. Un aspetto che va chiarito, particolarmente per la seconda delle due opere, è che la prospettiva di studio è sincronica, non storica. Ora, le grammatiche delle lingue moderne sono generalmente sincroniche (anche se possono far riferimento occasionalmente a forme e fenomeni del passato), mentre quelle delle lingue antiche sono storiche. Ma non lo devono essere necessariamente, anzi, se si accetta l’idea di Saussure che si può fare diacronia (storia) solo dopo la sincronia, è chiaro che anche una fase antica della lingua può, anzi deve essere studiata in sincronia. Il fatto che questo genere di studi sia relativamente raro, soprattutto se riferito non a singoli fenomeni ma all’intero complesso di una lingua, fa della nostra Grammatica dell’italiano antico un’opera di avanguardia. Era prevedibile perciò che sollevasse interrogativi e polemiche. Di una questione effettivamente sorta diamo conto subito sotto. Nelle presentazioni pubbliche del progetto che ha portato alla pubblicazione della Grande Grammatica, molti studiosi ci avevano chiesto quale varietà dell’italiano intendevamo esaminare. La sensibi- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 137 lità per i diversi stili e soprattutto per la variabilità locale della lingua è infatti molto diffusa tra gli specialisti. Il problema era in realtà facilmente risolvibile. Abbiamo descritto l’italiano comune, parlato e scritto, che costituisce il nucleo delle varietà stilistiche (diastratiche e diafasiche) della lingua, e abbiamo segnalato e esaminato a parte le principali differenze diatopiche, cioè locali (di quello che si chiama spesso ‘italiano regionale’), in singoli fenomeni4. Un esempio è la varietà, essenzialmente diatopica, di alcune forme della frase esclamativa (Benincà 2001, p. 138): it. sett. che bello (che è)! / tosc. com’è bello! / it. merid. quant’è bello! La forma standard corrente (diastratia) coincide con quella toscana. Questa soluzione sembra aver soddisfatto la gran parte degli studiosi, visto che, una volta che l’opera è stata pubblicata, quasi nessuna delle numerose recensioni che l’opera ha ricevuto contiene dei rilievi critici concernenti questo aspetto (un’eco di una vecchia polemica su questo argomento sollevata da Eduardo Blasco Ferrer si trova tuttavia nel III volume della Grande Grammatica (II ed. 2001, pp. 10-12). Il problema era più delicato per la Grammatica dell’italiano antico. Tra gli autori che si sono proposti di valutare quest’opera dopo la sua apparizione5, c’è lo storico della lingua italiana Lorenzo Tomasin (2013), che, chiedendosi che cosa sia l’italiano antico (Qu’est-ce que l’italien ancien?), affronta proprio la questione dell’oggetto della nostra grammatica. L’autore non ne critica nessun aspetto descrittivo particolare, ma giudica sbagliata l’impostazione generale. Nelle prime righe della Prefazione (p. 7) avevamo scritto: «questa Grammatica descrive il fiorentino del Duecento, prima fase documentata della lingua italiana, e dei primi del Trecento». Tomasin critica l’assunzione nel titolo e nel corpo del nostro libro del termine ‘italiano’ per ‘fiorentino antico’. 4 La distinzione delle tre dimensioni essenziali di una lingua comprendenti diatopia, diastratia e diafasia risale a Eugenio Coseriu. Per una rivisitazione attuale, v. Renzi (2013). Anche l’idea di nucleo comune si trova in Coseriu. 5 La più impegnativa tra le recensioni è finora quella di Marcello Barbato (2011). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 138 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI Ora, è vero che il termine ‘italiano’ è usato solo eccezionalmente in età antica6, ma è anche vero che in ogni lingua è comune applicare il termine moderno anche alla varietà antica di cui quella moderna è la prosecuzione. Resta allora da stabilire se ciò che precede quella lingua che dal Cinquecento in poi si chiama generalmente ‘italiano’ è o no il fiorentino antico. Tomasin lo nega e sembra proporre (anche se in modo alquanto implicito) che l’italiano moderno sia piuttosto frutto di una collaborazione di diverse varietà (i volgari, poi dialetti, d’Italia). Ma la concezione secondo cui l’italiano moderno è la continuazione del fiorentino è quella universalmente diffusa in materia, ed è stata dimostrata l’unica accettabile da una serie di studiosi illustri: alla fine dell’Ottocento da Ascoli e poi ripetutamente nel Novecento da Clemente Merlo, da Carlo Tagliavini, da Arrigo Castellani e da numerosi altri7. Nel caso dei non pochi studiosi che, nel corso del Novecento, non si esprimono in materia, si deve pensare che questa idea gli apparisse così ovvia che non hanno nemmeno sentito il bisogno di menzionarla (Renzi 2000: 721-2). Aggiungiamo che la nostra trattazione, che assume che il fiorentino antico sia la base dell’italiano moderno, non ha mai incontrato nessuna difficoltà a causa di questo presupposto – vogliamo dire: sarebbe successa ben altra cosa se avessimo sistematicamente raffrontato l’italiano moderno con il milanese antico. Quanto all’idea, che forse piacerebbe a Tomasin, di confrontare l’italiano con tutti i volgari antichi, è naturalmente possibile, ma difficilmente realizzabile: volendo raggiungere lo stesso livello di dettaglio che ci eravamo proposti nel nostro lavoro, la mole dei dati da elabo6 Vedi già Migliorini (1960: 267, n. 1). Per la storia del nome dell’italiano v. lo stesso Tomasin (2011). 7 Proprio per giustificare le nostre scelte, erano stati raccolti e riassunti i pareri di questi studiosi in Renzi (2000). Questa linea di pensiero è citata anche da Tomasin, che la trova però insufficiente perché la dimostrazione si basa solo sulla fonetica e sulla morfologia. Ma l’intero edificio della linguistica storica si basa sulla continuità (regolarità di corrispondenze) fonetica e morfologica (Meillet 1991 [1925]: cap. III). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 139 rare si sarebbe enormemente moltiplicata; anche senza tener conto delle differenze morfologiche e limitandosi alle strutture sintattiche, le differenze esistenti tra i diversi volgari sono senz’altro sottovalutate da Tomasin. Certo sarebbe importante anche scrivere una sintassi comparativa dei volgari italiani antichi, ma non era questo il compito che ci eravamo proposti. Che poi l’italiano moderno sia frutto della collaborazione di scrittori e parlanti di diversa provenienza, è senz’altro vero, ma solo più tardi, dopo la codificazone cinquecentesca della lingua, quando l’italiano comincia a diventare veramente la lingua dei letterati d’Italia e di cerchie via via anche più vaste. Non certo per il periodo precedente, dato che la prima codificazione della lingua letteraria avviene proprio esplicitamente sulla base della lingua degli scrittori fiorentini del Trecento. La loro lingua poteva già contenere degli influssi di altre varietà, ma certamente limitati, e questo in fondo è vero di tutte le lingue. Così stando le cose, l’onere della prova che l’italiano non sia la continuazione del fiorentino antico spetterebbe allo sfidante, a Tomasin, non a noi. In realtà lo studioso dà solo un esempio della sua tesi (o forse è meglio dire uno spunto in questa direzione), che è tutt’altro che convincente. Tomasin ricorda il fatto che il fiorentino antico presenta l’ordine dei clitici Acc. Dat.: lo mi, lo ti… mentre le altre varietà italiane hanno il tipo Dat. Acc.: me lo, te lo… (nelle diverse forme locali), che sarà poi quello dell’italiano (v. qui sotto 2.3). L’autore ipotizza che l’ordine degli altri volgari abbia condizionato il passaggio del fiorentino stesso e poi dell’italiano all’ordine attuale, uguale a quello delle altre varietà. Ora, questo processo non riguarda l’italiano antico, ma si tratta di un processo avvenuto nella storia dell’italiano post-bembesco: Bembo conosce le due costruzioni, ma consiglia quel- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 140 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI la del fiorentino antico8; l’italiano sceglierà l’altra, che del resto era corrente da molto tempo anche a Firenze. Comunque, anche se la spiegazione di Tomasin si potesse dimostrare preferibile alla nostra, il che al momento non è, bisognerebbe poi poter generalizzare questo caso ad altri, e sarebbe veramente difficile trovarne. Come è noto, già dal Quattrocento è il fiorentino a condizionare lo sviluppo della altre varietà, non viceversa. Tomasin, ottimo studioso del veneziano, lo sa benissimo. Da questo periodo, peraltro, i cambiamenti linguistici sono osservati e discussi dai letterati del tempo, tra i quali nessuno si sogna di mettere in dubbio il primato della lingua di Firenze come lingua letteraria, fissata poi dal Bembo come paradigma nella sua varietà trecentesca. Sono cose arcinote, e volerle mettere in discussione sembra veramente velleitario. Forse quello che sta più a cuore a Tomasin è in realtà l’idea che una lingua debba essere studiata nella sua struttura ma anche assieme ai fattori esterni, storici che ne accompagnano lo sviluppo. Ma la distinzione tra linguistica interna e esterna è un fattore d’ordine che favorisce la ricerca linguistica, e sarebbe stato male abbandonarla. È vero che la seconda non è trattata nella nostra opera, salvo gli spunti dati 8 «E queste voci medesime, quando elle si mescolano con le primiere tre, sì come si mescola questa, Vedetelvi, e le altre, in qual modo si mescolano elle, che meglio stiano? Perciò che e all’una guisa e all’altra dire si può; che così si può dire, Vedetevel voi, e Io te la recherò e Tu la mi recherai e Io gli vi donerò volentieri e Io ve gli donerò e Se le fecero allo ‘ncontro e Le si fecero. Questo conoscimento, e questa regola, Giuliano, come si fa ella? O pure puoss’ egli dire a qual maniera l’uom vuole medesimamente, che niuna differenza o regola non vi sia? Differenza v’è egli senza dubbio alcuno, e tale volta molta, - rispose il Magnifico - ché molto più di vaghezza averà questa voce, posta d’un modo in un luogo, che ad un altro. Ma regola e legge che porre vi si possa, altra che il giudicio degli orecchi, io recare non vi saprei, se non questa: che il dire, Tal la mi trovo al petto, è propriamente uso della patria mia; là dove, Tal me la trovo, italiano sarebbe più tosto che toscano, e in ogni modo meno di piacevolezza pare che abia in sé che il nostro, e per questo è egli per aventura men richiesto alle prose, le quali partire dalla naturale toscana usanza di poco si debbono» (P. Bembo, Prose della volgar lingua, III, 19). Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 141 nella Prefazione, ma il lettore sa che è presupposta, e non dovrebbe essere difficile per Tomasin capire qual è la sua impostazione, e valutarla più serenamente, anche se non corrisponde alla sua concezione. Nella quale, per es., la distinzione sincronia/diacronia non sembra, sorprendentemente, avere corso. 2. UTILITÀ DI CONFRONTI TRA LE DESCRIZIONI DELLA GRANDE GRAMMATICA E DELLA GRAMMATICA DELL’ITALIANO ANTICO: VERSO UNA STORIA (DIACRONIA) DELLA LINGUA ITALIANA Vediamo ora come un confronto tra le descrizioni fornite dalla Gr. Gramm. e dalla Gramm. It. Ant. ci permette di identificare alcuni casi in cui la sintassi dell’italiano antico e quella dell’italiano moderno divergono. Casi come questi presentano un problema per la sintassi diacronica della lingua italiana e dovranno essere risolti con uno studio delle fasi intermedie nello sviluppo dell’italiano e con la formulazione di ipotesi relative ai meccanismi e alle cause che hanno portato alla ristrutturazione delle costruzioni esaminate. Ma anche a un livello semplicemente descrittivo il confronto tra le due descrizioni fornisce al lettore e allo studioso dei testi antichi uno strumento per interpretare correttamente le strutture linguistiche antiche: quella infatti che al lettore moderno può parere una variante stilistica di carattere letterario (appunto perché è abituato a ritrovarla solo nei testi letterari antichi, o anche in quelli più tardi che la conservano per imitazione dei modelli antichi), era spesso in it. ant. la variante non-marcata, qualche volta l’unica possibile, che i parlanti usavano anche, dobbiamo supporre, nella lingua colloquiale (testimoniata solo indirettamente dai testi scritti che ci sono pervenuti). Questo è per es. il caso della posizione dei clitici, trattata in 2.2. In alcuni casi la costruzione antica non è sopravvissuta, e se compare in it. mod., è per imitazione della lingua antica, in pastiches storici o parodici. Questo è per es. il caso, già accennato nel par. 1, dei gruppi di clitici, trattati in 2.3. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 142 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI In altri casi ancora quella che apparentemente sembra la stessa costruzione in it. ant e in it. mod., sono in realtà due costruzioni diverse, con due diverse interpretazioni. In tutti questi casi la costruzione antica, per essere correttamente interpretata, va tradotta in it. mod. con una costruzione diversa che svolge nell’architettura della lingua moderna la stessa funzione e ha lo stesso significato della costruzione antica nell’architettura della lingua antica. (Tradizionalmente, nelle edizioni dei testi letterari a questo scopo servono le note esplicative, che però non possono dare un quadro sistematico di tutte le differenze a cui il lettore dovrebbe fare attenzione; e questo per il loro carattere sporadico, legate come sono all’interpretazione dei passi più difficili o ritenuti più importanti dai commentatori.) Questa situazione si presenta per es. con molti degli ordini delle parole della lingua antica, come vedremo in 2.1. I casi di questo tipo, in cui it. ant. e it. mod. sembrano apparentemente uguali ma, a un esame più accurato, appaiono invece diversi, sono da soli sufficienti a suggerire l’utilità di una grammatica contrastiva, come la nostra, che aiuti a vedere la differenza in ciò che è apparentemente uguale. 2.1. Ordine delle parole e struttura della frase L’ordine delle parole dell’it. ant. si differenzia molto da quello dell’it. mod., e anche le costruzioni apparentemente uguali non hanno sempre la stessa funzione e possono rispondere a strutture astratte diverse. Vediamo qualche aspetto. In it. mod. (Benincà – Salvi – Frison 2001) l’ordine non-marcato delle parole è generalmente SV+finV-finOX, come esemplificato in (A), dove S = soggetto (Piero), V+fin = verbo di modo finito/ausiliare delle perifrasi (ha), V-fin = verbo di modo non-finito delle perifrasi (mandato), O = oggetto diretto (il pacco), X = altro complemento (a Maria): (A) Piero ha mandato il pacco a Maria. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 143 Il soggetto è normalmente anche il tema della frase, quell’elemento cioè che serve come punto di partenza per il contenuto che la frase vuole comunicare: in (A) la frase ci dice qualcosa del soggetto/tema Piero. Se scegliamo un altro elemento come tema, nell’it. colloquiale corrente si usa la costruzione della dislocazione a sinistra: il tema compare prima del soggetto, in genere con un’intonazione particolare (suggerita qui dalla virgola); inoltre, all’interno della frase è in molti casi necessario esprimere la funzione del costituente anteposto con un pronome atono (clitico di ripresa), come esemplificato in (B) con la tematizzazione dell’oggetto diretto (a) e dell’oggetto indiretto (b): (B) a. Il pacco, Piero l’ha mandato a Maria. b. A Maria, Piero (le) ha mandato il pacco. Un altro tipo di anteposizione si ha in it. mod. nel caso delle frasi interrogative: in questi casi è il sintagma interrogativo a comparire in inizio di frase, ma normalmente non davanti al soggetto, ma davanti al verbo, e con un’intonazione diversa; il soggetto, in questi casi (se non coincide con il sintagma interrogativo), occupa in genere una posizione ai margini della frase, come esemplificato in (C), e non prima del verbo flesso o tra l’ausiliare e la forma non-finita di una perifrasi verbale (per l’importanza di questa posizione v. sotto): (C) A chi ha mandato il pacco, Piero? / Piero, a chi ha mandato il pacco? / *A chi Piero ha mandato il pacco? / *A chi ha Piero mandato il pacco? La frase interrogativa su un costituente è un tipo speciale di messa a fuoco o focalizzazione, dove per fuoco intendiamo quell’elemento che rappresenta il punto essenziale di quanto viene comunicato. Nella frase interrogativa il fuoco compare prima del verbo flesso, negli altri tipi di frase (per es. nelle risposte) compare invece dopo il verbo, e in particolare dopo la forma non-finita nel caso delle perifrasi verbali, come mostrano gli ess. (D) con focalizzazione dell’oggetto indiretto (a) e del soggetto (b): Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 144 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI (D) a. (A chi ha mandato il pacco, Piero?) L’ha mandato a Maria. b. (Chi è venuto?) È venuto Piero. Abbiamo poi un tipo particolare di focalizzazione che serve per esprimere un contrasto: in it. mod. a questo scopo si usa una struttura simile a quella utilizzata nelle frasi interrogative, con il costituente focalizzato in posizione immediatamente preverbale e il soggetto (se non coincide con il fuoco) ai margini della frase, come esemplificato in (Ea), con la focalizzazione contrastiva dell’oggetto diretto; una strategia alternativa consiste nell’uso della frase scissa (struttura è... che...), come esemplificato in (Eb): (E) a. IL PACCO ha mandato a Maria, Piero (non i fiori). b. È il pacco che Piero ha mandato a Maria. In it. ant. (Benincà – Poletto 2010) l’ordine basico degli elementi era lo stesso che in it. mod., e cioè SV+finV-finOX, ma per la tematizzazione e la focalizzazione si usavano solo in parte le stesse costruzioni dell’it. mod. Così la tematizzazione si otteneva con l’anteposizione del tema al verbo finito, come in (1), con tematizzazione dell’oggetto diretto (ciò) in (1a) e di un complemento introdotto da preposizione (di ciò) in (1b); in queste frasi il soggetto (il re in [1a] e il parlatore in [1b]) si trova immediatamente dopo il verbo finito (tra l’ausiliare e la forma non-finita nel caso della perifrasi può… prendere in [1b]). In it. mod. in questi casi si deve ricorrere alla dislocazione a sinistra (1a3)/(1b1) o, solo nel caso dell’oggetto diretto e in uno stile più formale, alla costruzione passiva (1a2); se il tema è un elemento intrinsecamente anaforico, si può anche rinunciare alla sua anteposizione (1a1): (1) a. Ciò tenne il re a grande maraviglia. (Novellino, 2, r. 22) a1. Il re ritenne ciò stupefacente. a2. Ciò fu ritenuto stupefacente dal re. a3. Questo, il re l’ha ritenuto stupefacente. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 145 b. E di ciò può il parlatore prendere suoi argomenti. (Tesoro volgarizzato, ed. Gaiter, vol. 4, libro 8, cap. 49, p. 163, rr. 10-11) 1 b .Da questo l’oratore (ne) può trarre i suoi argomenti. Ma la stessa costruzione in it. ant. serviva anche per esprimere la focalizzazione, sia nel caso di sintagmi interrogativi, come che in (2a), sia nel caso di altri sintagmi, come tanto in (2b) e tanto gentile e tanto onesta in (2c), con interpretazione non necessariamente contrastiva. In questo caso le costruzioni sono simili, ma non uguali a quelle usate in it. mod.: come in it. mod., il fuoco precede immediatamente il verbo finito, ma il soggetto (per es. tu in [2a]), invece di trovarsi in margine alla frase (2a1), segue il verbo finito (allo stesso modo costei in [2b] e la donna mia in [2c]); inoltre, agli ess. non interrogativi manca, come abbiamo detto, il carattere contrastivo che avrebbero gli ess. con anteposizione in it. mod. (v. es. [Ea], sopra), per cui nelle parafrasi/traduzioni in it. mod. il fuoco si trova piuttosto in posizione postverbale (2b1)/(2c1). La costruzione con il fuoco dopo il verbo era del resto possibile, in altri casi, già in it. ant. (3): (2) a. Maestra delle Virtudi, che vai tu faccendo in tanta profundità di notte per le magioni de’ servi tuoi? (Bono Giamboni, Libro, cap. 3, par. 8) a1. (Tu,) che cosa stai facendo(, tu)? b. Tanto amò costei Lancialotto ch(e)... (Novellino, 82, rr. 5-6) b’.Costei amò tanto Lancillotto che... c. Tanto gentile e tanto onesta pare / la donna mia quand’ella altrui saluta, / ch(e)… (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 5, vv. 1-3) 1 c . La mia signora si manifesta tanto nobile e tanto dignitosa quando saluta, che… (3) uno porto nello quale era adorato Malcometto (Brunetto Latini, Rettorica, p. 110, rr. 2-3) In it. ant. avevamo del resto anche la costruzione della dislocazione a sinistra (4), possibile alternativa alla tematizzazione in posizione Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 146 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI preverbale: mentre nella tematizzazione il tema precede immediatamente il verbo finito e il soggetto si mette dopo di questo, nella dislocazione il soggetto (Ugolino in [4a] e nullo in [4b]) resta normalmente in posizione preverbale, per cui il costituente che funge da tema (la sella vecchia… in [4a] e al detto luogho in [4b]) non precede immediatamente il verbo, e abbiamo inoltre un clitico di ripresa (la in [4a] e vi in [4b]), sempre assente nella tematizzazione: (4) a. La sella vecchia ch’era costà Ugolino la cambiò a una nuova. (Lettera di Consiglio de’ Cerchi, I, p. 597, rr. 1617) b. Et al detto luogho nullo vi vada né laude vi canti. (Compagnia di San Gilio, p. 35, rr. 17-18) In it. ant., inoltre, era possibile anche l’ordine V+finSV-finOX (5), impossibile in it. mod., che serviva a esprimere certi tipi di significati particolari, come nell’interrogativa totale (a) o nella frase eventiva (b), che presenta un evento come conseguenza degli eventi espressi nel contesto precedente. In questi casi in it. mod. l’ordine è quello nonmarcato SV+finV-finOX (b1), ma nel caso delle interrogative il soggetto compare normalmente ai margini della frase (a1): (5) a. Hai tu bene veduto quali sono i rei disiderî della carne…? (Bono Giamboni, Trattato, cap. 20, par. 23) 1 a . (Tu,) hai visto(, tu,) quali...? b. Li ambasciadori fecero la dimanda loro… Lo ‘mperadore diede loro risposta… Andar li ambasciadori. (Novellino, 1, rr. 23-29) 1 b .(Allora) gli ambasciatori andarono. La struttura di frase dell’it. ant. si può dunque schematizzare nel seguente modo: Disl – Op – V+fin – S – Avv – V-fin – O – X dove Disl = posizione di dislocazione e Op = posizione di opera-tore, cioè la posizione immediatamente preverbale che può essere oc-cupata sia da temi che da fuochi. Lo schema indica anche la posizione degli Avv(erbi), che normalmente seguivano il soggetto postverbale (nel Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 147 caso delle perifrasi si trovavano tra il soggetto postverbale e il verbo non-finito), come nell’es. (5a) (in [2b], invece, l’avverbio è focalizzato nella posizione di operatore). L’it. ant. presentava inoltre una maggiore libertà dell’it. mod. nella strutturazione dei sintagmi; per es. nel sintagma verbale di modo nonfinito il complemento (miracol in [6]) poteva precedere il verbo, in quello nominale il possessivo (mia in [7]) o il quantificatore (tutta in [8a] e molte in [8b]) potevano liberamente essere posposti (nel caso dei quantificatori la posposizione serviva a focalizzarli); queste costruzioni non sono più possibili in it. mod. (ma la posposizione dei possessivi è ancora possibile per esprimere contrasto, un valore che non necessariamente aveva in it. ant.): (6) a miracol mostrare. (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 6, v. 8) a mostrare un miracolo. (7) la donna mia (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 5, v. 2) la mia signora (8) a. l’altra gente tutta (Novellino, 7, r. 42) tutta l’altra gente b. parole e ragioni molte (Brunetto Latini, Rettorica, p. 146, rr. 17-18) molte parole e ragioni 2.2. Posizione dei clitici Mentre in it. mod. le particelle clitiche, cioè i pronomi personali atoni e le particelle cosiddette avverbiali ci/vi e ne, si collocano sempre prima delle forme verbali finite (si mostra, lo porto, ti prego, ecc.), eccetto che nel caso dell’imperativo positivo (pagami!; nell’imperativo negativo sono possibili le due soluzioni: non mi dite/non ditemi), in it. ant. la posizione dei clitici dipendeva da quello che avevamo in posizione preverbale (Benincà – Poletto 2010, 1.1.5; Cardinaletti 2010, 2.12). La regola, nota come legge Tobler-Mussafia, comprende, con qualche semplificazione, i seguenti casi: in frase principale i cliti- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 148 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI ci si collocavano dopo il verbo se a) il verbo era il primo elemento della frase (9a), o b) se era preceduto da una congiunzione coordinante, come e in (9b) o c) da una frase subordinata, come s’i’ son tu’ servo in (9c); inoltre d) quando il verbo era preceduto da un costituente dislocato a sinistra, come le mie poche parole… in (9d); in tutti questi ess. in it. mod. avremmo il clitico in posizione preverbale: (9) a. Mostrasi sì piacente a chi la mira, / che… (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 7, v. 9) b. e portolo a donna la quale sarà tua difensione. (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 9, par. 5) c. S’i’ son tu’ servo, pregoti che… (Iacopo Cavalcanti, Tre sonetti, 2, v. 12) d. A voi le mie poche parole ch’avete intese holle dette con grande fede. (Matteo de’ Libri, Dicerie volgari (red. pistoiese), p. 15, rr. 9-10) I clitici precedevano invece normalmente il verbo in tutti gli altri casi, e cioè: e) se il verbo era preceduto da un costituente nella posizione di operatore, come ella in (10a) e di ciò… in (10b), o f) dalla particella negativa non (10c); inoltre g) se il verbo si trovava in frase subordinata (10d). Si noti che la posizione preverbale vale in queste condizioni anche nel caso dell’imperativo (10b), mentre in it. mod. avremmo la posizione postverbale (10b1) (e nel caso dell’imperativo negativo avremmo le due soluzioni): (10) a. Ella si va, sentendosi laudare, / benignamente d’umiltà vestuta… (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 6, vv. 5-6) b. Di ciò c’hai preso mi paga. (Novellino, 8, r. 22) b1.QUESTO pagami! c. No li parlò. (Fiori e vita di filosafi, cap. 8, r. 15) d. Convien che si consumi. (Brunetto Latini, Tesoretto, v. 300) Nei secoli successivi al periodo medievale, quando la legge ToblerMussafia non era più in vigore, la posizione postverbale del clitico è stata sentita come una caratteristica della lingua letteraria, per cui si è usata come una variante libera della posizione preverbale, anche in Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 149 contesti sintattici che in it. ant. normalmente non l’ammettevano: cfr. per es. Pur mai non sentesi / felice appieno / chi su quel seno / non liba amore! (F.M. Piave, libretto del Rigoletto di Giuseppe Verdi [1851]), con il clitico in una posizione che sarebbe stata impossibile in it. ant. (cfr. [10c]), come lo è anche in it. mod. Ma in it. ant. le regole che richiedevano la posizione postverbale erano regole grammaticali, come quelle che la regolano in it. mod., e non una regola stilistica come nella lingua letteraria fino all’Ottocento. Nelle costruzioni verbo+infinito (Cardinaletti 2010, 2.14; Egerland – Cennamo 2010, 2.3), infine, i clitici si collocavano normalmente accanto al verbo reggente (può in [11a] e ardiscon in [11b]); in it. mod. con alcuni verbi i clitici si possono collocare o accanto al verbo reggente o accanto all’infinito (11a1), ma con la maggior parte dei verbi si collocano solo accanto all’infinito (11b1): (11) a. ‘ntender no la può... (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 7, v. 11) 1 a . non può capirla, non la può capire... b. no l’ardiscon di guardare. (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 5, v. 4) b2.non ardiscono guardarla. 2.3. Gruppi di clitici In it. mod., quando si usano insieme due clitici, nel gruppo risultante l’ordine degli elementi è fisso, esattamente come nel caso dei morfemi alla fine di una parola: abbiamo per es. me lo, e non *lo mi, come abbiamo canta-va-no, e non *canta-no-va. Lo stesso valeva in it. ant., ma con regole diverse (Cardinaletti 2010, 2.16; ora anche Cella 2012): in particolare il clitico accusativo di 3. pers. precedeva gli altri clitici, per es. quelli di 1. e 2. pers. in funzione di oggetto indiretto (12a)/ (12b), mentre invece in it. mod. li segue (12a1)/(12b1): Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 150 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI (12) a. Io il vi darò via peggiore. (Giamboni, Libro, cap. 6, par. 15), a1. io ve lo darò ancora peggiore. b. ma dirolloti... (Bono Giamboni, Libro, cap. 4, par. 5). b1.ma te lo dirò... In un gruppo di clitici una distinzione morfologica può essere cancellata (neutralizzata): per es. in it. mod. nel gruppo glielo si neutralizza l’opposizione che abbiamo nelle forme isolate tra gli (sing. masch. e pl. dei due generi) e le (sing. femm.): glielo vale “quello a lui”, “quello a loro”, ma anche “quello a lei”. In it. ant. la neutralizzazione era più estesa: la combinazione di un clitico accusativo di 3a pers. con un clitico dativo di 3a pers. dava sempre gliele (o varianti affini), indipendentemente dal numero e dal genere dei due pronomi interessati, come si vede negli ess. seguenti: (13) a. Tu prieghi lui che li le dica. (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 12, par. 7) quello a lei b. E que’ non volendola, e que’ dandogliele. (Disciplina clericalis, p. 76, rr. 20-21) quella a lui c. E corsero a’ piedi per baciargliele. (Bono Giamboni, Libro, cap. 63, par. 3) quelli a lui 2.4. Tempi composti La scelta dell’ausiliare nei tempi composti dei verbi sottostava alle stesse regole che in it. mod., ma con un’importante eccezione (Jezek 2010, par. 8): i verbi transitivi avevano sempre l’ausiliare avere, anche quando erano accompagnati da un clitico riflessivo con funzione di oggetto diretto (14a) o di oggetto indiretto (14b), mentre in it. mod. in questi casi avremmo sempre essere (14a1)/(14b1), una innovazione che compare già in it. ant. (14c): Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 151 (14) a. la donna che […] ci s’hae mostrata... (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 38, par. 3) a1. ci si è mostrata... b. ella istessa s’avea data la morte per lo dolore... (Bono Giamboni, Orosio, libro 5, cap. 24, p. 343, rr. 12-13) 1 b .si era data... c. Ecco dunque come Idio s’era mostrato e dato in prima al popolo suo. (Giordano da Pisa, Quaresimale fiorentino, 84, p. 408, rr. 16-17) Inoltre, nei verbi pronominali (Egerland 2010), cioè in quegli intransitivi che sono accompagnati da un clitico riflessivo, nei tempi composti il clitico riflessivo poteva rimanere non-espresso (15a), ma era possibile anche esprimerlo (15b): (15) a. Siete voi accorti / che…? (Dante, Inferno, 12, vv. 80-81) vi siete accorti? b. io non m’era accorto... (Dante, Purgatorio, 4, v. 16) In it. ant. si faceva dunque inizialmente un chiara distinzione nei tempi composti tra verbi riflessivi transitivi, in cui il clitico riflessivo funge da oggetto diretto (per es. uccidersi) o indiretto (per es. darsi la morte) del verbo, e verbi riflessivi intransitivi, in cui il clitico riflessivo non svolge nessuna funzione sintattica, ma è un semplice segnale di intransitività (per es. accorgersi, annerirsi): con i primi l’ausiliare era avere, con i secondi essere, ma con questi non si usava il clitico riflessivo. L’it. mod. ha eliminato questa distinzione generalizzando l’ausiliare essere e rendendo obbligatorio l’uso del clitico, un cambiamento già in atto nel periodo medievale. 2.5. Frasi presentative Le frasi la cui funzione è quella di introdurre un nuovo elemento nel discorso (frasi presentative) utilizzano normalmente verbi intransitivi coniugati con essere; nella costruzione l’elemento nuovo funge da soggetto e compare in posizione postverbale (dopo il participio nei Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 152 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI tempi composti). In it. ant. in questi casi (Salvi 2010a, 5.1; 2010b, 1.4) il verbo di 3a pers. non si accordava con un soggetto plurale (16a)/ (16b), diversamente dall’it. mod. (16a1)/(16b1). Se il soggetto era già noto dal contesto precedente, invece, l’accordo si faceva (17). L’it. mod. ha eliminato questa distinzione, che sopravvive però nei dialetti settentrionali e toscani: (16) a. Della buona volontà di cui nasce le quattro virtú cardinali... (Bono Giamboni, Trattato, cap. 2, rubrica) 1 a . nascono... b. Quivi fue grandissime battalgle. (Cronica fiorentina, p. 145, r. 32) 1 b .ci furono... (17) a. Al padre furono racontate tutte queste novelle. (Novellino, 7, rr. 45-46) b. Ciò c’han detto queste donne reali. (Boccaccio, Teseida, libro 2, ott. 40, vv. 3-4) 2.6. Uso del complementatore che Come in it. mod., almeno in certi stili, in it. ant. era possibile omettere la congiunzione subordinante che che introduce una frase complemento (Meszler – Samu – Mazzoleni 2010, 2.2), soprattutto se questa era al congiuntivo (18a), ma diversamente dall’it. mod. questa omissione era possibile anche con il che delle frasi relative (18b) (anche se questo fenomeno si espande piuttosto nel corso del Trecento): (18) a. Non vo’ ∅ ti faccia di ciò maraviglio. (Monte Andrea, Rime (ed. Menichetti), son. 104b, v. 3) b. sì come e in quel modo ∅ ànno e sono usati d’avere i detti consoli della detta arte. (Statuto dell’Arte dei vinattieri, p. 113, rr. 4-5) b1.nel modo che tengono... Sempre diversamente dall’it. mod., quando all’inizio di una frase subordinata avevamo una frase subordinata avverbiale, il complemen- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 153 tatore poteva comparire in due diverse posizioni (Meszler – Samu – Mazzoleni 2010, 2.1): all’inizio della subordinata e dopo la subordinata avverbiale (19a); ma data l’omissibilità di che, uno dei due che poteva anche mancare: il secondo (19b) (soluzione maggioritaria, che corrisponde a quella dell’it. mod.), oppure il primo (19c), oppure tutti e due (19d): (19) a. dirai […] che, se tuo padre fu loro aspro, che tu sarai loro umile e benigno. (Novellino, 6, rr. 37-39) b. Noi credemo che quando avrete questa lettera ∅ Chiaro sarà passato di costà per andare inn Isscozia. (Lettera di Consiglio de’ Cerchi, I, p. 598, rr. 23-24) c. Ma so bene ∅, se Carlo fosse morto, / che voi ci trovereste ancor cagione. (Rustico Filippi, Sonetti, 3, vv. 9-10) d. Vuol ∅, quanto la cosa è più perfetta, / ∅ più senta il bene, e così la doglienza. (Dante, Inferno, 6, vv. 107108) 2.7. Frasi relative In it. mod. nelle frasi relative (Cinque 2001) possiamo trovare che o cui (non trattiamo qui, per semplicità, il caso di il quale e di dove). Che si usa se l’elemento relativizzato è il soggetto (Fa) o l’oggetto diretto (Fb), indipendentemente dal carattere umano o inanimato dell’antecedente; si usa inoltre con quei complementi di tempo che non sono introdotti da preposizione (Fc). Cui si usa invece quando l’elemento relativizzato è preceduto da una preposizione9, come mostrano gli ess. (G): 9 Oltre che come possessivo (il cui padre) e come oggetto indiretto (una ragazza cui daresti tutto), casi che per semplicità non tratteremo qui. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 154 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI (F) a. la ragazza / la lettera che è arrivata ieri. b. la ragazza / la lettera che hai visto. c. il giorno che verrai / *nell’occasione che verrai (cfr. in cui verrai) (G) a. Non ho trovato nessuno con cui io possa andare al cinema. b. Non ho trovato nessuno con cui andare al cinema. Questa distribuzione di che e cui si può spiegare ipotizzando che in it. mod. solo cui sia un pronome relativo vero e proprio, e che sia espresso solo quando è accompagnato da una preposizione, mentre quando dovrebbe essere usato da solo, viene obbligatoriamente cancellato; in quest’ultimo caso la frase relativa è introdotta da che, che in it. mod. non è un pronome relativo ma un complementatore, cioè un semplice introduttore di frase subordinata, lo stesso che troviamo in casi come Non credo che venga o Mi ha detto che è stato malato. Che che sia un complementatore e non un pronome relativo, si vede dal fatto che non può essere usato nelle relative all’infinito (Hb) (da confrontare con [Ha], di modo finito), e questo per il semplice fatto che il complementatore che introduce solo frasi di modo finito; il pronome relativo, invece, compare liberamente sia nelle relative di modo finito (Ga) sia in quelle all’infinito (Gb): (H) a. Non ho trovato nessuno che io possa portare al cinema. b. *Non ho trovato nessuno che portare al cinema. (cfr. da portare al cinema) Un’altra prova a favore di questa analisi consiste nel fatto che in it. ant. il che delle frasi relative poteva essere omesso esattamente come quello delle frasi complemento (v. es. [18b], sopra): se si tratta dello stesso elemento, questo fatto non ha bisogno di ulteriori spiegazioni. La struttura della frase relativa in it. ant. (Benincà – Cinque 2010) è apparentemente la stessa: se per es. l’elemento relativizzato è il soggetto, troviamo che sia con antecedenti umani (20a), sia con antecedenti inanimati (20b): Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 155 (20) a. Andò alli altri giovani che stavano a ricevere l’acqua piovana. (Novellino, 4, rr. 16-17) b. Et così pare manifestamente che quella amistade ch’è per utilitade e per dilettamento nonn è verace. (Brunetto Latini, Rettorica, p. 13, r. 24-p. 14, r. 1) Ma se guardiamo ai casi in cui l’elemento relativizzato è l’oggetto diretto, troviamo una situazione diversa: con un oggetto diretto umano possiamo trovare che (21a), ma anche cui (21b), mentre con un oggetto diretto inanimato troviamo solo che (21c): (21) a. Crede avere guiderdone di quelli ch’egli ha tenuto in indugio. (Tesoro volgarizzato, ed. Gaiter, vol. 3, libro 7, cap. 47, p. 392, rr. 6-8) b. E fue sì benigno che quelli cui elli sugiugava con arme, sì vinceva con clemenzia e con benignità. (Fiori e vita di filosafi, cap. 19, rr. 3-4) 1 b .che egli soggiogava… c. Noi avemo pagato […] quella quantitade de la moneta che nne mandaste diciendo. (Lettera di Consiglio de’ Cerchi, I, p. 595, rr. 4-7) Se invece l’elemento relativizzato è un complemento introdotto da preposizione, con un antecedente umano troviamo sempre cui (22a), mentre con un antecedente inanimato possiamo avere sia cui (22b) sia che (22c): (22) a. Moises fu il primo uomo a cui Iddio desse la legge. (Tesoro volgarizzato, ed. Gaiter, vol. 1, libro 1, cap. 17, p. 52, rr. 8-9) b. Per ciò che la filosofia è la radice di cui crescono tutte le scienze che uomo puote sapere. (Tesoro volgarizzato, ed. Gaiter, vol. 1, libro 1, cap. 1, p. 6, rr. 14-16) c. Uno bastone con che s’apogiava perch’era debole. (Fiori e vita di filosafi, cap. 9, rr. 4-5) 1 c . con cui Evidentemente l’it. ant. faceva una distinzione, assente in it. mod., tra antecedenti umani e antecedenti inanimati. Inoltre, l’es. (22c) mo- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 156 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI stra come il che delle frasi relative in it. ant. non potesse essere esclusivamente un complementatore, ma doveva essere anche un pronome relativo: dopo una preposizione ci aspettiamo infatti un costituente nominale, come è appunto un pronome. Una spiegazione dei fatti appena esposti può essere la seguente: in it. ant. avevamo due pronomi relativi, che per gli antecedenti inanimati e cui, di caso obliquo, in primo luogo per gli antecedenti umani. Se l’elemento relativizzato era il soggetto, il pronome relativo rimaneva obbligatoriamente non-espresso, e la frase relativa era introdotta dal complementatore che (20), che poteva anche essere omesso. Nel caso dell’oggetto diretto il pronome relativo poteva essere espresso, e si realizzava come cui nel caso di antecedenti umani (21b) e come che nel caso di antecedenti inanimati (21c), ma poteva anche rimanere non-espresso, nel qual caso la frase era introdotta dal complementatore che (21a)/(21c) (nel caso degli inanimati, come si vede, le due soluzioni non sono distinguibili). Nel caso dei complementi introdotti da preposizione, infine, il pronome relativo era sempre espresso, con cui nel caso degli antecedenti umani (22a) e con che (22c) oppure cui (22b) nel caso di quelli inanimati. Come si vede, l’it. ant. disponeva di un sistema più complesso, con un pronome relativo in più rispetto all’it. mod. e una distinzione tra umani e inanimati che l’it. mod. non conserva. In it. ant. era inoltre possibile un tipo di frase relativa senza pronome relativo e introdotto sempre da che, dove la funzione dell’elemento relativizzato era espressa, invece che da un pronome relativo, da un clitico, come negli ess. in (23). Al posto di a cui troviamo quindi che… gli/le (23c), al posto di in cui troviamo che… vi/ci (23d), e per l’oggetto diretto al posto di che (pronome relativo) o cui troviamo che… lo/la/le/li (23a-b). Questo tipo di costruzione è ancora vivo in it. mod. a livello colloquiale, ma diversamente dall’it. ant. è escluso dallo stile curato: Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 157 (23) a. Dà per li occhi una dolcezza al core, / che ‘ntender no la può chi no la prova. (Dante, Vita nuova, cap. 26, par. 7, v. 10-11) 1 a . Una dolcezza che non può capire chi non la provi. b. Più di mille / ombre mostrommi e nominommi a dito, / ch’amor di nostra vita dipartille. (Dante, Inferno, 5, vv. 67-69) 1 b .Ombre che Amore allontanò dalla nostra vita. c. Guiglielmo si vantò che non avea niuno nobile uomo in Proenza che non gli avesse fatto votare la sella. (Novellino, 42, rr. 5-7) c1. Nessun nobiluomo a cui non avesse fatto... d. Lli nimici entrarono per una porta che v’è intalglato di marmo uno angelo. (Cronica fiorentina, p. 113, rr. 1011) 1 d .Una porta in cui è scolpito... 3. CONCLUSIONE La Grammatica dell’italiano antico è nata dalla convinzione che italiano antico e italiano moderno abbiano grammatiche differenti sotto molti aspetti – una convinzione corroborata dal lungo e meritorio lavoro filologico svolto sui testi antichi, ma soprattutto da molte ricerche mirate svolte nel quadro degli studi linguistici nell’ultimo quarto del secolo scorso. Le ricerche, spesso di prima mano, che hanno portato alla redazione di quest’opera, hanno ampiamente confermato la nostra ipotesi iniziale e ci hanno permesso di offrire una descrizione organica della grammatica antica. Il confronto di questa descrizione con quella della Grande Grammatica rappresenta una nuova sfida per gli studiosi della storia della nostra lingua che, ricostruendo le tappe intermedie, si impegneranno a spiegare i cambiamenti avvenuti. Per il lettore non specialista le due opere offrono invece uno strumento fondamentale per approfondire la comprensione delle strutture della lingua di oggi (anche nella sua variazione) e per una corretta interpre- Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 158 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI tazione delle strutture della lingua antica, come abbiamo cercato di mostrare con alcuni esempi scelti nel par. 2. Università degli Studi di Padova [email protected] Università Eötvös Loránd, Budapest [email protected] BIBLIOGRAFIA Barbato, M. 2011 Recensione di Salvi – Renzi (2010), in «Studi Linguistici Italiani», 37, pp. 104-117. Benincà, P. 2001 Il tipo esclamativo, in Renzi – Salvi – Cardinaletti (2001), vol. III, pp. 127-52. Benincà, P. – Cinque, G. 2010 La frase relativa, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 469-507. Benincà, P. – Poletto, C. 2010 L’ordine delle parole e la struttura della frase, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 27-75. Benincà, P. – Salvi, G. – Frison, L. 2001 L’ordine degli elementi della frase e le costruzioni marcate, in Renzi – Salvi – Cardinaletti (2001), vol. I, pp. 129239. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 STRUMENTI PER LA RICERCA E PER LA SCUOLA 159 Cardinaletti, A. 2010 Il pronome personale obliquo, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 414-50. Cella, R. 2012 I gruppi di clitici nel fiorentino del Trecento, in Dizionari e ricerca filologica. Atti della Giornata di Studi in memoria di Valentina Pollidori. Firenze, 26 ottobre 2010, Alessandria, Edizioni dell’Orso, pp. 113-98. Cinque, G. 2001 La frase relativa, in Renzi – Salvi – Cardinaletti (2001), vol. I, pp. 457-517. Egerland, V. 2010 Il pronome riflessivo, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 450-63. Egerland, V. – Cennamo, M. 2010 Frasi subordinate all’infinito, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 817-79. Jezek, E. 2010 La struttura argomentale dei verbi, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 77-122. Meillet, A. 1991 Il metodo comparativo in linguistica storica, Catania, Edizioni del Prisma (ed. originale: La méthode comparative en linguistique historique, Oslo-Paris, Aschehoug-Champion, 1925). Meszler, L. – Samu, B. – Mazzoleni, M. 2010 Le strutture subordinate, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 763-89. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 160 LORENZO RENZI – GIAMPAOLO SALVI Migliorini, B. 1960 Storia della lingua italiana, Firenze, Sansoni. Renzi, L. 2000 “ItalAnt”: come e perché una grammatica dell’italiano antico, in «Lingua e Stile», 35, pp. 717-29. 2013 Il concetto di stile in Eugenio Coseriu, in «Lingua e stile», 48, pp. 79-112. Renzi, L. – Salvi, G. – Cardinaletti, A. (a cura di) 2001 Grande grammatica italiana di consultazione, 3 voll., Bologna, Il Mulino, 2a ed. Salvi, G. 2010a La realizzazione sintattica della struttura argomentale, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 123-89. 2010b L’accordo, in Salvi – Renzi (2010), pp. 547-68. Salvi, G. – Renzi, L. (a cura di) 2010 Grammatica dell’italiano antico, Bologna, Il Mulino. Tomasin, L. 2011 Italiano. Storia di una parola, Roma, Carocci. 2013 Qu’est-ce que l’italien ancien?, in «La lingua italiana. Storia, strutture, testi», 9, pp. 9-17. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 Colin Burrow, Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity, Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2013, pp. 281. The presence of classical sources in Shakespeare’s works has been a cogent topic ever since criticism contemporary to the Bard. T.W. Baldwin (William Shakespeare’s small Latin and less Greek, 1944) first disentangled the matter of Shakespeare’s classical knowledge in his detailed reconstruction of grammar schools in the Elizabethan age. Many monographs have followed on the relationship between Shakespeare and single classical authors or genres, until Burrow’s Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity, which represents an attempt to give both an overview and a new approach to the subject. Burrow points out two weaknesses in Baldwin’s work: an overestimation of the role of grammar schools when he associates Shakespeare with the best grammar school education and the exclusion of alternative, subsequent sources of classical knowledge in the course of Shakespeare’s career. As a matter of fact, Burrow’s book revolves around two main ideas: first, that Shakespeare actually does know much of classical literature and that he does «interesting things» with it, the focus being not on the depth of Shakespeare’s knowledge, but on «the extent of that learning» (p. 2). Second, that classical «antiquity» – a term no-one, including Shakespeare, would have used before the Romantic Age – has much to do with a sense of oldness and a sense of the past in its relationship with an early modern context. The practical results of such an approach on this subject constitute a helpful vantage point to a broader insight and understanding of Shakespeare’s work (p. 2-3). In the perspective of a «larger narrative about changing understandings of classical antiquity» (p. 3), Burrow claims it is necessary to consider the instrumental use of classical sources, what he terms as «practical humanism» (p. 5), when dealing with a Renaissance context. Burrow displays the records of his research Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 162 RECENSIONI detecting four main behaviours in Shakespeare as a writer, as far as allusions to classical sources are concerned (pp. 5-6): I. sometimes more or less explicit quotes are just part of the poet’s language, while at other times the poet flags them up for special attention. II. Shakespeare also differentiates the status of different characters or triggers implied dialogues between them; III. classical allusions also make Shakespeare stand out as modern in comparison to other contemporary poets or works (pp. 5-8). IV. Burrow also investigates what he calls Shakespeare’s «blind spots» (p. 10), such as Shakespeare’s lack of interest in Latin metrical complexity, classical epigrams and larger debates about the position of classical literature in English verse: these missing features provide the key to unlock the poet’s functional use of classical antiquity in relation to theatre as a means of artistic communication. Additionally, Shakespeare’s knowledge of Greek literature constitutes somehow a blind spot in itself: what he knows is probably conveyed by Latin and sometimes itself translated into English (e.g. Greek tragedies); moreover, other sources should not be underestimated, such as dictionaries and mythography handbooks, especially as far as history and mythology are concerned. Finally, painting, architecture and sculpture add up to further blind spots: it is true that the accession of James I coincides with a sort of architectural classicism, especially in the sphere of masques and pageants, but it culminates after the end of Shakespeare’s career as a playwright (p. 15). In this sense, the comparison between Shakespeare and Jonson is self-explanatory: neither of them knows more or less about classical literature, they just use their knowledge in different ways, even though the last plays by Shakespeare, with the transformation of his company into the Kings Men, possibly remind of some of the classical elements typical of the reign of James I (pp. 15-18). The first chapter deals with Shakespeare’s education. As mentioned before, Burrow stresses the role of secondary sources of learning for the adult Shakespeare and also introduces the issue of Shakespeare’s unrecorded and never recovered personal library: unlike other authors, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 RECENSIONI 163 namely Ben Jonson, we do not have a catalogue of what Shakespeare certainly owned or read, which does not mean he did not own nor read anything. This lack of information does not diminish the importance of the presence of books on stage. An inventory of cases taken from Shakespearian characters illustrates how most of times books appear on stage unnamed and that the classical knowledge they display is more than often situational. In other words, books appearing on stage, either identified or not, are used in a performative way both for characters and audience (p. 29). Generally speaking, grammar school was perceived as a «male puberty rite» (p. 38), during which certain authors or passages, studied not only from a rhetorical point of view, also conveyed sexual education within an exclusively masculine environment. One of the results of this multi-dimensional perspective is a connection between language and eroticism, whose effectiveness varied to an audience with different degrees of education. Not everyone might have caught an erudite allusion, but almost everyone would have laughed at a sexual double entendre. Burrow illustrates how Shakespeare’s memory of his school days comes out both from proper teaching scenes and stylistic and rhetorical mechanisms, as well as from the situational use the poet makes of them. Burrow quotes some examples of the main exercises typical of grammar school carried out and developed into memorable Shakespearean scenes. Hamlet’s famous soliloquy (3,1) is built on the skeleton of a quaestio, that is to say, the discussion of a topic from the two opposite points of view of praise and dispraise, a specific feature of debates and disputes typical of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century university studies. Hecuba’s speech, recited by Hamlet, corresponds to an exercise of prosopopoeia, a task that involves the production of a speech in the person of a particular character under particular circumstances. Along with ethopoeia – the ability to evoke a given character’s habits – all these rhetorical techniques, cultivated at school, constitute the main tasks required to a playwright. However, Burrow claims that Shakespeare is totally aware of the difference between his use of Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 164 RECENSIONI classical knowledge and that of fellow poets who have university degrees and boast the title of Masters of Art, and postulates that this is why Shakespeare tends to make fun of his characters’ little notion of different elements of classical antiquity, from misquoted authors or poems to proper grammatical issues, in order to «avoid being made fun of himself» (p. 46). Burrow’s point is even more convincing when he explores the other side of the coin, that is to say, Shakespeare’s later more conscious and, or, non-ironic use of classical knowledge. In the majority of these cases, Burrow explains, we are dealing with works Shakespeare wrote to be performed, at the Inns of Courts or for the Kings Men, before a public able to detect and appreciate a conscious and active displacement of classical knowledge. Two examples among many are the violation of the classical norm of never representing the inside of a household, as occurs in Twelfth Night (pp. 48-49), or the addition of the innovative role of the clever and autonomous female protagonist, as opposed to the Latin identification of women on stage exclusively with the uxor dotata and her dowry. More generally, Burrow states a cultural influence of Terence in terms of dramatic strategies to be observed along the more straightforward technical and punctual influence of Plautus: the learned manipulation of classical sources in the construction of the Comedy of Errors testifies, in Burrow’s analysis, to a Terentian attitude of hybridisation in re-shaping the Plautinian model in order to adapt it to an early modern context (48; 143-51). In the following chapters Burrow explores Shakespeare’s relationship with single authors and genres. Virgil and Ovid are presented in succession and the contiguity of these two sections devoted to them helps a comparative understanding of Shakespeare’s situational use of, and his growing maturity towards, the reading of sources. What Shakespeare learns from Virgil is the power of characters’ responses and reactions: two examples among many shed light on this narrative mechanism. Burrow (pp. 57-59) analyses an ekphrastic Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 RECENSIONI 165 evocation of an epic Virgilian theme in the Rape of Lucrece, when the heroine interrupts herself while complaining about her rape, by suddenly recalling a painting which depicts the betrayal of the Trojans by Sinon: Here, all enraged, such passion her assails, That patience is quite beaten from her breast. She tears the senseless Sinon with her nails, Comparing him to that unhappy guest Whose deed hath made herself herself detest: At last she smilingly with this gives o’er; “Fool, fool!” quoth she, “his wounds will not be sore.” (Shakespeare, Lucrece, 1562-68) According to Burrow, the use of the ekphrasis in order to evoke an epic narrative represents one of the main strategies by which Shakespeare indirectly alludes to Virgil. In this case the poet possibly had in mind Aeneas’ overwhelming emotional reaction to the vision of the Trojan war, displayed at length on the buildings of Carthago: Constitit, et lacrimans, “Quis iam locus” inquit “Achate, quae regio in terris nostri non plena laboris? En Priamus! Sunt hic etiam sua praemia laudi; sunt lacrimae rerum et mentem mortalia tangunt. Solve metus; feret haec aliquam tibi fama salutem”. (Virgil, Aeneid, I, 459-63) Another example, wittily explored by Burrow (pp. 62-63), is the episode of the stumbling memory of Hamlet when trying to remember Aeneas’s speech to Dido, recalling the fall of Troy, or the evocation – or rather, rewriting – of Hecuba’s speech. This last example, in particular, reveals a direct knowledge of the Latin text and one of the few explicit and lengthy quotes from Virgil in Shakespeare. In particular, Burrow analyses the sources of the language displayed in this passage, which sounds different from the rest of the play and from Shakespeare’s English in general: the epithet ‘Hyrcanian’ to describe Pyrrhus, in the seventeenth century, was only used to refer to tigers and betrays here a direct provenance from the virgilian text. Similarly, Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 166 RECENSIONI other syntactic constructions can be reconnected to later vernacular translations. The mixture of these languages by a «humanist Hamlet» functions on both a cultural and a narrative level, testifying to Shakespeare’s use and knowledge of Virgil and differentiating the antiquity of the quotation from the novelty of Shakespeare’s language. Moreover, the use of a Virgilan source in Hamlet proves to be even more effective when it is, so to speak, missing: in the play-within-theplay scene, Polonius interrupts the actors just before they declaim the part in which the Virgilian Aeneas recalls his own reaction to Priam’s death (Virgil, Aeneid, II, 559-62). The allusion to this particular scene, by means of an interruption, is overtly functional in the context of Hamlet’s intention to discover Claudius’s responsibility in the king’s death. What Burrow deeply demonstrates is that, again, the use of Virgil in Shakespeare’s works shows a strong pragmatic awareness, as it is even more evident in the Jacobean part of his theatrical production, where a Virgilian imperialistic attitude sometimes peeps behind the scenes, as examples from The Tempest and Cymbeline provide (pp. 71-91). During the Renaissance, Ovid was possibly the most read among the classical authors and provided both stories and sources for plots and characters; moreover, the mythology of his life became «subject for dramatic representation» (p. 93). Thus, for instance, the themes of ruin and exile, which permeate Ovid’s biography, are fundamental elements in Shakespeare’s sonnets. In Ovid’s Heroides Burrow detects the roots of female complaint poetry to which both Lucrece and A Lover’s Complaint can be ascribed, while, on the other hand, the Metamorphoses constitute the richest cauldron from which the English poet draws for themes, characters, stylistic and rhetorical devices. Burrow observes how frequently virgilian characters are presented in the shadow of their ovidian «less than simply heroical versions» (p. 99), observing that Ovid often offers an alternative ending to the Virgilian original treatment of the source material: a lesson Shakespeare moulds to his plot finalities. For instance, Lorenzo’s reference to Dido in the Merchant of Venice (5,I,9-10) Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 RECENSIONI 167 seems to refer to Ovid’s Heroides, where the queen is presented as the heroine and Aeneas as the betrayer, rather than alluding to the development of the same episode in Book IV of the Aeneid (pp. 9899). Shakespeare’s debts to Ovid give the reader the chance to think about the relationship between the former’s plays and his verses and to consider how the treatment of Ovid differs in his comedies and tragedies (p. 122). Burrow concludes by observing how, after 1600, references to Ovidian sources change, starting to function as narrative hints: in Cymbeline (2,2), for instance, Giacomo alludes to Philomel by intruding into Innogen’s bedchamber, albeit in the end not committing the rape; in A Winter’s Tale (5,3,85-97), the exposure of the statue of Hermione unleashes a complex triangular relationship between stage, audience and readership; eventually, Prospero’s last speech in The Tempest (5,1,33-51) evokes Ovid’s Medea, but results, Burrow notes, as «vocative» instead of «imperative» and the passage concludes with Prospero’s renunciation of the act of magic (pp. 118132). Burrow then provides an overview of the elements of Greek and Roman comedy that have influenced modern European theatre and concentrates on illustrating the mechanism of innovation in Shakespeare’s conflation of different sources: a lesson he successfully learns from Terence’s use of contaminatio. The Comedy of Errors provides the best examples of all the strategies recurring in Shakespeare’s comedies, merging elements from Menaechmi and Amphitruo: from the representation of household spaces, often violating classical norms, to narrative devices and the enrichment of typical characterizations (pp. 143-151). Finally, Burrow stresses Shakespeare’s blurring of genres in his introduction of tragic elements into comedy and vice-versa (pp. 151-161). Seneca is usually considered as a vague influence on Shakespearean tragedy, despite the fact of being the only classical tragedian surviving in early modern times and despite the more direct influence on other contemporary authors, such as Marlowe. However, Burrow illustrates how much of Senecan tragedy can be perceived behind the Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 168 RECENSIONI construction of Shakespearian plots, characters and tragic elements. At the time of Shakespeare, Seneca was mainly known as a philosopher, but the epigrammatic nature of sententiae present in his tragedies certainly appeals to Shakespeare’s interest in poetic drama: Burrow shows how Shakespeare, through his characters, proves to be a critical reader of the Latin tragedian. In King Lear, for example, the themes of ingratitude and the limits to the debt deriving from the relationship between fathers and children recall some of the themes of Seneca’s De beneficiis. In a meditation by Lear on these topics (2,2,452-6), different Senecan sources are conflated, from a direct quote from Thyeste, to remote and unsteady memories of Senecan philosophy, with the effect of making Lear almost impersonate an «antique Seneca», in the sense of both old and mad, transforming Senecan passages into Shakespearean passages (p. 200). Burrow’s empirical assumption, carried out by means of reasonable conjectures, is strongly convincing, however his determined statement that Seneca’s Phaedra would have been Shakespeare’s greatest influence has been received rather sceptically by critics of his volume. A somehow specular mechanism is valid for Plutarch: the diffusion of his Parallel Lives during the Renaissance is well documented, and evidence that Shakespeare read the Lives can be grasped by the details of Theseus’ life in A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Burrow conducts a deep analysis of the attitude Shakespeare shows towards Plutarch, who proves to be a good theatrical source and teaches Shakespeare how poets can be historians: anecdotes can reveal characters more than the narrative rigidity of authoritative historiography. Taking Julius Caesar and Coriolanus as laboratories of investigation, Burrow explores how Shakespeare seems to react more to Plutarch’s Roman characters, who are depicted from the point of view of a Greek ethnographer. According to Burrow, somehow Shakespeare learns in particular about Greek tragedy and its values from Plutarch, rather than directly from the original sources, which he probably never read (p. 237). Moreover, the way in which Plutarch presents certain personalities forces Shakespeare to reason when shaping his own Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 RECENSIONI 169 characters. Likewise, the reader is prompted to think about how and what Shakespeare does and not, again, just what Shakespeare knows. Colin Burrow’s volume is amongst the latest publications by Oxford Shakespeare Topics, a book series of Oxford University Press which provides short books on Shakespeare’s criticism and scholarship, aiming thus at a composite public of students, teachers and scholars. Its clear and entertaining language suits graduate students who might have diverse degrees of familiarity with classical literature: Burrow always contextualizes the authors he writes about, cross-referencing with an extensive bibliography and a practical analytical index. Burrow is also very attentive in supplying dates and editions of classical works, translations and editions presumably available to Shakespeare, testifying to the general discussion and diffusion of classical antiquity in Renaissance England and Europe. I think these valuable characteristics would also prove helpful and enlightening to teachers who want to approach Shakespeare in an interdisciplinary and engaging way at every level of education. As the title of the book already clarifies, Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity is not, or not only, a history of the chronological influence and presence of classical sources in Shakespeare’s works, rather than the suggestion of a new approach and perspective on the subject almost in the light of cultural studies. Furthermore, the author supplies interesting and innovative acute remarks: for this reason I personally appreciate the author’s ability to spot connections not only between classical authors and Shakespeare’s works, but also between the latter and the environment of grammar schools. One of the few criticisms that can be pointed out, and that has been already stressed in the immediate reception of the book soon after its publication, is Burrow’s sometimes too strong trust in his reasonable, but yet still suppository conjectures, to which he makes correspond Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841 170 RECENSIONI strong and definite conclusions1. However, more than, or along with, Burrow’s personal opinions, his way of proceeding through sources, context and textual references is an important contribute to such a lively debated subject, allowing the reader to approach Shakespeare and his classical knowledge from an innovative and at times positively disruptive perspective. I think that the strongest merits of Burrow’s book lie in the fact that it is easy to browse and entertaining to read. Most importantly, from a methodological point of view, I personally appreciate Burrow’s constant references to precise Shakespearean passages in the light not only of comparative studies, but also of stylistics and pragmatics. Considering that a rich and still flourishing literature is available, as far as a more in-depth analysis on specific philological or comparative matters is concerned (among others, cf. C. Martindale, L. Barkin, L. Enterline, J. Bate), it is for reasons of clarity and accuracy that Shakespeare and Classical Antiquity is the perfect starting point for finding orientation in every research on the subject of Shakespearean materials and their relation to classical sources, in terms of both notions and methodologies. Caterina Guardini Università degli studi di Udine Dipartimento di Lingue e Letterature Straniere [email protected] 1 See Geoffrey Miles’s review in The Review of English Studies, 65, 2014, pp. 928-30 and Michael Silk in Times Literary Review, February 14, 2014, to which an epistolary debate between Silk and Burrrow followed: http://www.thetls.co.uk/tls/public/article1389208.ece. Lingue antiche e moderne 4 (2015) ISSN 2281-4841