whore ridiculed Venetian cuckolds for their large penises

Freedom of Speech (excerpt), Norman Rockwell, 1943

Today, pervasive codes of conduct explicitly prohibit “offensive communication.” Medieval Europe, in contrast, allowed much greater freedom of expression, especially in Latin. Medieval authors such as the eminent medieval church official Poggio Bracciolini explored lascivious topics fundamental to human well-being and to perpetuating humanity. This freedom of expression helped to sustain a more humane, tolerant, and culturally vibrant society.

A learned man told Poggio a story about a whore who ridiculed Venetian cuckolds by claiming that they had enormous penises. This whore was welcoming and inclusive in providing her important service to men:

The whore was, he said, a commonly known Venetian to whom men of diverse nations came.

{ Scortum erat, ait, Venetiis vulgare, ad quod cum diversarum gentium viri accederent } [1]

The whore’s embrace of diversity gained for her valued knowledge:

Someone asked her one day the nationality of the men who had the largest penises that she had seen. The woman without hesitation responded that it was the Venetians. “Those,” she said, “have such a long Priapus, that although they are often away traveling in the remotest provinces beyond the seas, they still copulate with their wives and have children.”

{ quaesivit ab eo aliquando quispiam, quae sibi hominum natio majori membro virili esse videretur. Mulier e vestigio Venetos respondit. Cum causa postularetur: — “Quoniam,” inquit, “tam longo sunt Priapo, ut cum saepius in remotissimis et ultra mare sitis provinciis versentur, tamen cum uxoribus coeant et procreent filios.” }

Neither this whore nor anyone else actually believed that the Venetian husbands were having sex with their wives while being far distant from them. The Venetian husbands were being cuckolded. The witty whore was ridiculing them. While penis size is of considerable concern, cuckolds throughout history have commonly been subjects of ridicule.

Compared to men, women experience less pressure to perform sexually and typically are less concerned about the size of their genitals. However, women who understand themselves as being like men can mis-interpret the quality of their genitals. Consider the case of a woman and man committing adultery in early fifteenth-century Sienna:

Immediately after having sex with her, the adulterer insultingly said that he had never found any other woman with such a wide vagina. She, supposing him to be praising her, said: “From graciousness you are saying this, not from my merit. I wish it were what you say, as big as that! I would, because of it, regard myself as being more noble and more greatly valued.

{ Hic cum post coitum in ejus contumeliam dixisset, se nunquam in alia latiorem vulvam reperisse, illa existimans id sibi laudi esse: — “Ex gratia tua hoc,” inquit, “dicis, non meo merito: utinam mihi ea, quam profers, adesset copia! nam multo propterea me nobiliorem, et majori existimandam reputarem.” } [2]

That’s what a man might think upon being told that he had a relatively large penis. Medieval literature figuratively associated a wide vagina with a woman having had sex with many different men. Medieval men preferred, all else equal, women with narrow vaginas. Yet, as sexually subordinate persons, men often have to accept other than what they prefer. The woman in this story misunderstood herself as being measured sexually like men.

Men who believe that merely having a large penis protects them from being cuckolded are fools. Women who believe that their sexual value is measured like men’s are also fools. Modern triggering and making offense is a repressive, inhumane alternative to medieval freedom of expression in discussing sex.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

Notes:

[1] Poggio Bracciolini, Facetiae 244, “The witty saying of a prostitute about Venetians {Facetum Dictum Meretricis Adjocans Venetis},” Latin text from Poggio (1879) vol. 2, pp. 184-5. The quotes above provide my English translations, drawing upon that of id., but tracking the Latin more closely.  The subsequent quote is similarly from id. The Latin text of Poggio’s Facetiae is available online in machine-readable format.

[2] Poggio Bracciolini, Facetiae 180 “About a woman who believed that she was being praised when being told that she had a wide vagina {De Muliere Se Credente Ad Laudem Trahi, Confitendo Latiorem Vulvam Habere},” Latin text from Poggio (1879) vol. 2, pp. 95-6, my translation as above.

Men typically didn’t favor big or wide vaginas. Poggio reported that the Roman Pietro Masini, perhaps after suffering continual cuckolding and years of domestic abuse, willed to his wife only her original dowry. When she complained, he added:

I leave you the most fetid and biggest vagina of any woman in this city.

{ me sibi relinquere foetidiorem et ampliorem vulvam aliqua alia hujusce civitatis muliere. }

Facetiae 140 “The testament that an old man made for his wife {Testatio cujusdam senis facta uxori},” Latin text from Poggio (1879) vol. 2, p. 31, my translation as above.

In Poggio, Facetiae 272 “A woman’s amusing response, but one having little respectability {Facetum mulieris responsum, sed parum honestum},” an elderly man who married a widow “discovered that her granary was more ample in size than he expected {percipiens uxoris cellam uberiorem quam putarat}.” He told her that he was unable to fill her barn. She replied that her prior husband filled it well. Latin text from Poggio (1879) vol. 2, p. 228, my translation.

[image] Excerpt from “Freedom of Speech,” an oil on canvas painting by Norman Rockwell, 1943.  It was incorporated into a U.S. government poster that added around the painting, “Save Freedom of Speech / Buy War Bonds.” Source image via Wikimedia Commons.

Reference:

Poggio. 1879. Gian Francesco Poggio Bracciolini. The facetiae or jocose tales of Poggio, now first translated into English with the Latin text. Paris: Isidore Liseux (vol. 1, vol. 2).

what foster-father Chiron failed to teach his son Achilles

Achilles, bathed in tears, stood before Chiron as before a father,
weaping as he would for his biological father Peleus if he were dying.
Often he caressed Chiron’s feeble hands with his own loving hands.
The character that the teacher had molded rewarded him.
Achilles often kissed him and often said to him as he lay there:
“Live, I pray, don’t leave me, dear father!”

{ stabat, ut ante patrem, lacrimis perfusus Achilles
sic flendus Peleus, si moreretur, erat
saepe manus aegras manibus fingebat amicis
morum, quos fecit, praemia doctor
oscula saepe dedit, dixit quoque saepe iacenti
“Vive, precor, nec me, care, relinque, pater!” }[1]

Chiron teaching Achilles to play lyre

Achilles’ biological parents Thetis and Peleus had a tense relationship. The top gods had arranged for their marriage. Thetis was a sea-goddess. Peleus was a mortal king. She resented her husband’s lowly status as merely a mortal. When he embraced her, he felt as if she transformed herself into a lioness or a serpent. They somehow managed to have seven children. Thetis burned some of their children to death and killed others with boiling water.[2]

While Peleus deserves blame for agreeing to marry Thetis, he at least saved the life of one of his children, his son Achilles. Thetis was obsessively and bizarrely torturing the baby Achilles just as she had done to their other children:

She would always singe his mortal flesh in the flames of a fire in the middle of the night, and then, during the day, would anoint his tender body with ambrosia. This was to make him immortal and to keep hateful old age from his body. But Peleus leapt from his bed and saw his dear son convulsing in the flames and let out a horrible yell at the sight. It was a foolish thing to do. When she heard it, she grabbed the baby and threw him screaming to the ground. Then she, light as a dream and like a breeze, swiftly went out of the palace. She leaped into the sea in anger. She never came back again.

{ ἡ μὲν γὰρ βροτέας αἰεὶ περὶ σάρκας ἔδαιεν
νύκτα διὰ μέσσην φλογμῷ πυρός· ἤματα δ᾿ αὖτε
ἀμβροσίῃ χρίεσκε τέρεν δέμας, ὄφρα πέλοιτο
ἀθάνατος καί οἱ στυγερὸν χροῒ γῆρας ἀλάλκοι.
αὐτὰρ ὅ γ᾿ ἐξ εὐνῆς ἀναπάλμενος εἰσενόησεν
παῖδα φίλον σπαίροντα διὰ φλογός· ἧκε δ᾿ ἀυτὴν
σμερδαλέην ἐσιδών, μέγα νήπιος· ἡ δ᾿ ἀίουσα
τὸν μὲν ἄρ᾿ ἁρπάγδην χαμάδις βάλε κεκληγῶτα,
αὐτὴ δὲ πνοιῇ ἰκέλη δέμας, ἠύτ᾿ ὄνειρος,
βῆ ῥ᾿ ἴμεν ἐκ μεγάροιο θοῶς, καὶ ἐσήλατο πόντον
χωσαμένη· μετὰ δ᾿ οὔ τι παλίσσυτος ἵκετ᾿ ὀπίσσω. }[3]

Good riddance to that horrible mother, one might hope. Yet these events aren’t part of the mythic patriarchy about which scholars have spewed clouds of ink. These events are nearly inexpressible reality. The great goddess that maintains gynocentrism ensures that mothers like Thetis and Josephine Crabtree get custody of children, rather than children being placed in custody of their deserving fathers.

By the time Statius wrote his Achilleid late in the first century, Achilles’s father Peleus was almost totally absent, and his mother Thetis was controlling his life. Perhaps busy with her affairs at sea, she choose not to raise her son herself. Achilles described himself as:

the son whom my mother, the sea-goddess,
almost bore to Jupiter and sent to be reared in woods and snows
of Thessaly.

{ genitum quem caerula mater
paene Iovi silvis nivibusque inmisit alendum
Thessalicis. }[4]

Achilles explained that his mother sent him away “in my tender years, while I was still crawling {in teneris et adhuc reptantibus annis}.” Achilles had no contact with his biological father and mother throughout the rest of his childhood.

Thetis gave the infant Achilles to be reared by the half-man, half-horse Chiron. This centaur lived in a cave on Mount Pelion’s ridge in the woods and snows of Thessaly. A poor dwelling, Chiron’s cave was an old geological formation that had been extended by hand. Achilles as an infant living in these harsh conditions didn’t eat brand-name baby food and didn’t drink expensive, certified-organic infant formula:

I took no ordinary food nor from nourishing
breast sated my hunger, but tore at tough lion
innards and sucked marrow from half-alive she-wolves.

{ non ullos ex more cibos hausisse nec almis
uberibus satiasse famem, sed spissa leonum
viscera semianimisque lupae traxisse medullas. }[5]

Thetis felt guilty about what she had done to her son. At one point she exclaimed:

Why did I designate Pelion and the cave of its stern taskmaster as the cradle for my little boy?

{ quid enim cunabula parvo Pelion et torvi commisimus antra magistri? }[6]

Harsh living conditions hurt a boy much less than the absence of a father. A half-man who cares about a boy is better than no man. The centaur Chiron helped the young boys Aristaeus, Actaeon, Asclepius, and Jason became eminent mythic figures. Despite his failures, Chiron was a good foster-father for Achilles.

Chiron taking Achilles hunting

Chiron mentoring Achilles

Chiron teaching Achilles to read

Like a good father, Chiron engaged Achilles in vigorous physical activity, taught him a wide range of knowledge, and provided him with emotional support. He also challenged him to overcome trying circumstances. Achilles recounted:

It wasn’t long before
he taught me to go with him through the trackless lands,
drawing me on with his longer stride, and to laugh
when I saw wild animals, and not be afraid of rocks
shattered by cataracts, or the vast forest silences.

When I was just twelve,
a raw youth, he had me sprinting faster than deer
and Lapith horses, and outrunning thrown spears.
Chiron himself, when he was still fast, would chase me
at full gallop all over the plains, and then,
when I was exhausted from all my running around
he would joyfully praise me and lift me up to his back.

{ mox ire per invia secum
lustra gradu maiore trahens visisque docebat
arridere feris nec fracta ruentibus undis
saxa nec ad vastae trepidare silentia silvae.

vix mihi bissenos annorum torserat orbes
vita rudis, volucris cum iam praevertere cervos
et Lapithas cogebat equos praemissaque cursu
tela sequi; saepe ipse gradu me praepete Chiron,
dum velox aetas, campis admissus agebat
omnibus, exhaustumque vago per gramina passu
laudabat gaudens atque in sua terga levabat. }[7]

Chiron directed Achilles to arduous tasks:

Chiron would never let me chase
unwarlike deer through Ossa’s wilds, or bring down
timid lynxes with my spear. No, I had to rouse
grim bears from their dens, boars like thunderbolts,
or maybe a ferocious tiger, or some lioness
with her cubs in a hidden mountainside cavern.
And he would sit in his vast cave awaiting my exploits,
waiting to see if I came back spattered with black blood.
And he wouldn’t kiss me before inspecting my weapons.

He would teach me to jump wide ditches, to scale
mountain peaks as if striding on level ground,
to take flying boulders on my shield in mock battle,
to enter burning huts, and to stop chariots on foot.
I remember when the Spercheius was flowing
fast as can be, fed by constant rain and melting snow,
churning uprooted trees and rocks along. Chiron
tells me to get in where the current is strongest
and stand against it, repelling swollen waves
that he himself would have had trouble holding off
even with his strong footwork. I stood in it,
but the raging river with its wall of dark spume
kept pushing me back. Chiron came down on me hard,
threatening, scolding, appealing to my sense of shame.
I did not get out until ordered, so driven was I
by exalted glory.

{ numquam ille inbelles Ossaea per avia dammas
sectari aut timidas passus me cuspide lyncas
sternere, sed tristes turbare cubilibus ursos
fulmineosque sues, et sicubi maxima tigris
aut seducta iugis fetae spelunca leaenae.
ipse sedens vasto facta exspectabat in antro,
si sparsus nigro remearem sanguine; nec me
ante nisi inspectis admisit ad oscula telis.

nunc docet ingentes saltu me iungere fossas,
nunc caput aerii scandentem prendere montis,
quo fugitur per plana gradu, simulacraque pugnae:
excipere immissos curvato umbone molares
ardentesque intrare casas peditemque volantis
sistere quadriiugos. memini, rapidissimus ibat
imbribus assiduis pastus nivibusque solutis
Sperchios vivasque trabes et saxa ferebat,
cum me ille immissum, qua saevior impetus undae,
stare iubet contra tumidosque repellere fluctus,
quos vix ipse gradu totiens obstante tulisset.
stabam equidem, sed me referebat concitus amnis
et latae caligo fugae; ferus ille minari
desuper incumbens verbisque urgere pudorem.
nec nisi iussus abi: sic me sublimis agebat
gloria, nec duri tanto sub teste labores. }

Chiron also taught Achilles to wrestle, box, and hurl the discus. Added to such lessons in physical prowess were many other fields of instruction. Chiron taught Achilles music and ancient literature, herbal medicine, and principles of sacred justice. Most importantly, Chiron stayed close to his son. They slept together on a boulder. Even when Achilles’s biological mother visited their man-cave, the young Achilles preferred to sleep with his foster-father:

Night draws them on to slumber. The huge Centaur
collapses onto stone, and Achilles snuggles
into his shaggy shoulders and arms, preferring,
though his faithful mother is there, that familiar chest.

{ nox trahit in somnos; saxo collabitur ingens
Centaurus blandusque umeris se innectit Achilles,
quamquam ibi fida parens, assuetaque pectora mavult. }

Many fathers today are reduced to legally specified, but not legally required, “visitation time” with their children. How many boys today would be delighted to have a half-man, foster-father like Chiron?[8]

Thetis came to the man-cave and took Achilles away from Chiron. She implied that Chiron wasn’t taking good care of Achilles, told a bizarre, fictive story about the necessity of her performing magic rites for the boy, and demanded, “Just give him to me {trade magis}.” Foolishly trusting her story, Chiron obeyed the mother’s order. The next morning, she carried off the sleeping Achilles. Chiron, brushing tears from his eyes, followed them to the shore. He begged her to bring back Achilles soon. He watched as she summoned and bridled a team of dolphins. They pulled her and the still-sleeping Achilles over the sea’s horizon. Chiron then could no longer see him.

Thetis believed that Achilles, without her help, would die in the brutal, men-on-men violence of the Trojan War. She thought it would be safest to disguise him as a girl and hide him in the household of King Lycomedes among the King’s many daughters and no sons. Thetis accordingly brought the sleeping Achilles to King Lycomedes’s island of Scyros.[9] Achilles woke up on the seashore of Scyros with no idea of where he was and why he was no longer in Chiron’s cave on Pelion’s ridge. Although a defiant boy whose heart never trembled, he was frightened. Thetis caressed him, disparaged his biological father, and urged him to wear women’s clothing.

Chiron’s teaching hadn’t prepared his foster-son Achilles for such bewildering circumstances. Thetis recounted to Achilles how Hercules had served Omphale, how Jupiter had transformed himself into Diana to seduce Callisto, that the great drinker Bacchus wore robes, and that Caeneus, the hero of the centaurs’ long-time enemy the Lapiths, was born a female. Achilles had learned from Chiron the stories of the great Greek heroes. Thetis’s mythical references appalled him. With further words, Thetis promised to return him soon to Chiron, reminded him of all the hardships she had endured because of him, told him that she sought what was best for him, and urged him to put on women’s clothing. Of course all men would be better off as women, given the oppressive force of gynocentrism. Yet Achilles was reluctant to renounce his sex. Thetis implored him:

“Why are you looking away?
What are you thinking? Are you ashamed to be soft
in this dress? I swear, dear child, by the sea I was born in,
Chiron will never know.”
So she worked on his rough heart, coaxing in vain.

{ “cur ora reducis
quidve parant oculi? pudet hoc mitescere cultu?
per te, care puer, cognata per aequora iuro,
nesciet hoc Chiron.” sic horrida pectora tractat
nequiquam mulcens }

Achilles didn’t harshly rebuke his mother for attempting to totally transform his life without even consulting him. Yet he at least passively resisted her when awake. Fathers must not fail to teach their sons about how to prevent their mothers, and women generally, from dominating them.[10]

Even more importantly, fathers must teach their sons about satisfying their sexual desire. While Achilles was passively resisting his mother’s domination, the daughters of Lycomedes come out to the seashore and began dancing a springtime festival in honor of the goddess Athena:

All were surpassingly beautiful, all dressed alike,
all just at the peak of tender modesty, their virginity
and swelling years ripe for the marriage bed.

{ omnibus eximium formae decus, omnibus idem
cultus et expleto teneri iam fine pudoris
virginitas matura toris annique tumentes. }

Achilles gazed upon them.[11] Ovid would have wanted them all. But Achilles was more discriminating:

Just as Venus overwhelms the emerald sea-nymphs
when she joins them, just as Diana towers over
the Naiads, so too does Deidamia,
queen of that fair choir, eclipse her lovely sisters.
Her roseate face inflames her scarlet robe,
her gems have more luster, her gold more allure,
and she would compare in beauty with Athena herself
if the deity would lay aside the snakes in her bosom,
take off her helmet, and assume a tranquil expression.

{ sed quantum virides pelagi Venus addita Nymphas
obruit, aut umeris quantum Diana relinquit
Naidas, effulget tantum regina decori
Deidamia chori pulchrisque sororibus obstat.
illius et roseo flammatur purpura vultu
et gemmis lux maior inest et blandius aurum:
atque ipsi par forma deaest, si pectoris angues
ponat et exempta pacetur casside vultus. }

A mean heart and a truculent manner can obliterate any woman’s beauty.[12] Deidamia projected kindness and receptivity. Achilles was inflamed with desire for her:

When the defiant boy, whose heart had never trembled,
saw this girl at the head of her troop of companions,
he stiffened, and every bone in his body
absorbed liquid fire. Nor did this passion stay hidden;
no, the torch pulsing in his marrow goes to his face,
tingeing his bright cheeks and glazing them with sweat.
As when the Massagetae darken their milk with blood
or when ivory is stained with crimson dye,
so too this sudden flame shows itself, reddening
his checks’ pallor. He would have run forward wildly
and disrupted his hosts’ rituals, oblivious
of the crowd and his age, had he not been held back
by a sense of shame and reverence for his hovering mother.

{ hanc ubi ducentem longe socia agmina vidit,
trux puer et nullo temeratus pectora motu
deriguit totisque novum bibit ossibus ignem.
nec latet haustus amor, sed fax vibrata medullis
in vultus atque ora redit lucemque genarum
tinguit et inpulsam tenui sudore pererrat.
lactea Massagetae veluti cum pocula fuscant
sanguine puniceo vel ebur corrumpitur ostro,
sic variis manifesta notis palletque rubetque
flamma repens. eat atque ultro ferus hospita sacra
disiciat turbae securus et inmemor aevi,
ni pudor et iunctae teneat reverentia matris. }

In the presence of stunning feminine beauty, even the bravest of unlearned men can be petrified with thoughts of his mother’s admonitions and a sense of shame. Achilles’s mother exploited his lack of learning about how to approach beautiful women. She pleaded to him to make her a grandmother by any means necessary:

Is it so difficult to play holding hands, my son,
or to imitate these dance-steps? Is there anything like this
beneath chilly Ossa or on Pelion’s ridges?
Oh, if only another heart beat now with mine
and I held to my bosom another Achilles!

{ Hasne inter simulare choros et bracchia ludo
nectere, nate, grave est? gelida quid tale sub Ossa
Peliacisque iugis? o si mihi iungere curas
atque alium portare sinu contingat Achillem! }

Some means of having sex with woman are morally wrong. Yet his mother’s pleading focused Achilles on scoring that goal:

He begins to soften and blushes for joy,
casting bold sideways glances and relaxing the hand
that rejects the garments. His mother sees him waffling,
sees he wants to be forced, and drapes the dress on him.
Then she massages his neck, drops his heavy shoulders,
smooths out his strong arms, arranges his unkempt hair,
and transfers her necklace to that beloved neck.
Next, confining his steps with an embroidered hem,
she teaches him how to walk and move and speak
with modesty. Just as an artist whose thumb molds
heated wax to a new shape and brings it to life,
so did the goddess transform her son.

{ mulcetur laetumque rubet visusque protervos
obliquat vestesque manu leviore repellit.
aspicit ambiguum genetrix cogique volentem
iniecitque sinus; tum colla rigentia mollit
submittitque graves umeros et fortia laxat
bracchia et inpexos certo domat ordine crines
ac sua dilecta cervice monilia transfert;
et picturato cohibens vestigia limbo
incessum motumque docet fandique pudorem.
qualiter artifici victurae pollice cerae
accipiunt formas ignemque manumque sequuntur,
talis erat divae natum mutantis imago. }

Achilles did not affirmatively consent to his mother’s physical manipulations of him. She should not have forced him, even if she thought he wanted it.[13] Tragically, rape of men remains trivialized through to the present day.

Archilles’s mother made all the arrangements for the deception. Repeatedly touching and trimming him, she cautioned him to mimic diligently the behavior of girls. Pledging sincerity upon holy altars, she presented Achilles to King Lycomedes and declared:

I present to you, lord, my Achilles’s sister
(and doesn’t she look just like her fierce brother?)
for your safekeeping. Spirited as she is, she has sought
to carry a bow and shun wedlock like an Amazon.
But I have enough worries with my male offspring.
Let her carry baskets in processions. Keep her in line,
the indocile girl, until she is old enough to marry
and lose her virginity. Don’t let her exercise naked
in the gymnasium or wander in the woods.

{ “Hanc tibi” ait “nostri germanam, rector, Achillis
(nonne vides ut torva genas aequandaque fratri?)
tradimus. arma umeris arcumque animosa petebat
ferre et Amazonio conubia pellere ritu.
sed mihi curarum satis est pro stirpe virili;
haec calathos et sacra ferat, tu frange regendo
indocilem sexuque tene, dum nubilis aetas
solvendusque pudor; neve exercere protervas
gymnadas aut lustris nemorum concede vagari.” }

No more could Achilles enjoy masculine life as he did with Chiron on Pelion’s ridge. King Lycomedes venerated Thetis for the honor of being given custody of her daughter. Lycomedes’s daughters stared at this new girl, who was a head taller than any of them and had an extraordinarily firm chest.

While Achilles showed considerable natural ability, he ultimately lacked sufficient self-confidence. In seeking to seduce Deidamia, he employed the now well-established seduction techniques of acting like a jerk, using pull-push emotional dynamics, and seeking physical contact:

The rogue chases her, crowds her, makes eyes at her
over and over, sticks too close to her side,
and she makes no effort to avoid him.
Now he pelts her with flowers, or with baskets spilled
on purpose, or taps her with a thyrsus. Now he shows her
the sweet strings of the lyre he knows so well,
the subtle measures of Chiron’s songs, guiding her hand
and making her fingers pluck the chords; and now
he takes hold of her mouth as she sings, entwines her
with embraces, and praises her with a thousand kisses.
She is all too glad to learn which peak is Pelion,
who Aeacides is; wonders as she hears the boy’s name
and exploits, and sings of Achilles there before her.

{ blandeque novas nil tale timenti
admovet insidias: illam sequiturque premitque
improbus, illam oculis iterumque iterumque resumit.
nunc nimius lateri non evitantis inhaeret,
nunc levibus sertis, lapsis nunc sponte canistris,
nunc thyrso parcente ferit, modo dulcia notae
fila lyrae tenuesque modos et carmina monstrat
Chironis ducitque manum digitosque sonanti
infringit citharae, nunc occupat ora canentis
et ligat amplexus et mille per oscula laudat.
illa libens discit, quo vertice Pelion, et quis
Aeacides, puerique auditum nomen et actus
adsidue stupet et praesentem cantat Achillem. }[14]

On the appointed day in a high grove deep in Scyros’s forest, the girls, including Achilles, engaged in strictly men-exclusive orgiastic rites. They danced and offered to Bacchus dismembered bodies of cattle and tree trunks torn from the ground. While reveling in female gender privilege, Achilles was unsatisfied as a man. Achilles said to himself:

How long will you endure
your fearful mother’s schemes and waste the prime
of your life in unmanly captivity?

And what’s more, you hide your passion for your beloved girl —
your chosen one, your coeval flame — imprisoned
by day and by night. How long will you suppress
the wound that burns in your heart, or fail to prove,
even in love (O the shame!), that you are a man?

{ Quonam timidae commenta parentis
usque feres? primumque imbelli carcere perdes
florem animi?

quin etiam dilectae virginis ignem
aequaevamque facem captus noctesque diesque
dissimulas. quonam usque premes urentia pectus
vulnera? teque marem (pudet heu!) nec amore probabis? }

Rooted in the ancient concept of virtue is the men-disparaging belief that a man must prove his worth as a man. Without appreciating his inherent goodness, without confidence in his own seductive allure, and following his mother’s example, Achilles used force to have sex with a girl whom he thought wanted it.

He gets his way by force, putting all his heart
into authentic embraces. The whole choir of stars
watched from above, and the slender Moon blushed.

{ vi potitur votis et toto pectore veros
admovet amplexus; vidit chorus omnis ab alto
astrorum et tenerae rubuerunt cornua Lunae. }

Use of physical force represents moral and intellectual weakness. Women are naturally superior to men in guile, and reportedly as well in the skills necessary to succeed in the twenty-first century economy. Fathers should teach their sons guile and other vital seductive techniques. More importantly, fathers should teach their sons their intrinsic worth as male human beings. Like many good fathers, Achilles’s foster-father Chiron failed to teach him well that fundamental lesson. Readers of the Iliad know the rest.[15]

Mothers disguising their sons as girls won’t save them from the epic devaluation of men’s lives. In the Trojan War, a huge number of men, including Achilles, died brutal deaths fighting over one, adulterous woman. The toll of men’s deaths increased significantly as a result of Achilles’s bitter conflict with Agamemnon over sexual access to the beautiful, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Briseis. Wise leaders would make public provision for men’s sexual welfare. Yet most leaders are not wise, but ignorantly gynocentric. In such oppressive circumstances, the most important lesson for fathers to teach their sons is simple. A man does not need to prove that he is a man, not in battle, not with women. If Achilles and other men understood their intrinsic virtue, they wouldn’t seek glory in battle, nor rage about being deprived of a woman.

*  *  *  *  *

Read more:

Notes:

[1] Ovid, Fasti 5.407-12, Latin text and English translation (adapted slightly) from Frazer & Goold (2014).

[2] On Thetis changing form in Peleus’s embrace, see, e.g. Pausanias, Geography 5.18.5, Appollodorus, Library 3.13.5 (including note 261). For early Greek accounts of Thetis abusing children she had with Peleus, Ashton (2009) para. 48-9, Burgess (2009) pp. 10-11. The tradition of Thetis dipping Achilles in the Styx while holding his heal came later. Burgess observed:

The later Roman story of Achilles’ heel does correspond thematically to the earlier Greek traditions, however. Once again, an infant is dipped into a destructive element. The Styx was considered extremely cold, poisonous, or fiery, qualities comparable to the fire and boiling water of the early traditions.

Id. p. 11.

[3] Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica 4.868-79, Greek text and English translation (adapted slightly) from Race (2009). Another account describes Thetis as testing her children, even after younger ones had fatally failed her test:

Thetis cast her children by Peleus into a cauldron of water, wanting to know whether they were mortal […] and when many had in fact died, Peleus grew angry and prevented Achilles from being flung into the cauldron.

{ ἡ Θέτις εἰς λέβητα ὕδατος ἔβαλλεν τοὺν ἐκ Πηλέως γεννωμένους, γνῶναι βουλομένη εἰ θνητοί εἰσιν [ … ] καὶ δὴ πολλῶν διαφθαρέντων ἀγανακτῆσαι τὸν Πηλέα καὶ κωλῦσαι τὸν ᾿Αχιλλέα ἐμβληθῆναι εἰς λέβητα. }

Scholiast on Apollonius of Rhodes, Argonautica 4.868-79, cited with this Greek text and English translation in Aston (2009) para. 48.

Thetis and Chiron were associated in ancient myth and cult. Both were associated with Thessaly and related thematically, including through Achilles’s life. Chiron was a culture hero. Thetis, honored more broadly than Chiron, had a more ambiguous character. They weren’t paired simply as the evil Thetis and the good Chiron:

there is a symbolic dimension to this contrast which goes beyond the immediate contrast between the elusive, unreliable, destructive Thetis and the steadfast, healing Cheiron. Another, more profound point of divergence relates to failed and successful transitions. Thetis cannot leave her children as they are: she is compelled to attempt to usher them across the divide between mortality and divinity, an attempt which never succeeds, proving the immutability of the separation between gods and mortals.

Aston (2009) para. 55. The Achilleid presents a less abstract and more socially engaged contrast between Thetis and Chiron.

[4] Statius, Achilleid 1.650–2, Latin text and English translation (adapted slightly) from Shackleton Bailey (2003). The subsequent quote is similarly from Achilleid 2.96. In all subsequent quotes from the Achilleid, the Latin is from id., and the English translation is from Lombardo (2009), except where otherwise noted. In some instances I’ve adapted slightly the English translations to follow the Latin words and lines more closely. A Latin text of the Achilleid is available online at the Latin Library.

In the Middle Ages, western Europe — the region that had been the western part of the Roman Empire — lacked knowledge of Homer’s epics and all the rest of ancient Greek literature. The Achilleid thus largely influenced perception of Achilles:

for many centuries the most complete and compelling portrait of the great Achilles available to Western Europe was as the hero of a transvestite sex-farce.

Heslin (2003) p. xii. The Achilleid was widely read. It was one of the six texts {Sex auctores} that dominated the thirteenth-century European school curriculum. The Eclogue of Theodulus, which like the Achilleid provides subtle but trenchant gender critique, was another of the Sex auctores. Ziolkowski (2007) p. 114. The Achilleid can be read simplistically:

It is easy to see the qualities that must have recommended it to medieval teachers: it is a brief and lighthearted text by a major author, which introduces students to an important idiom and meter along with some major characters from mythology; it also describes the exemplary education of the young Achilles, his affection for his teacher, Chiron, and his obedience to his mother.

Heslin (2003) p. xiii. Unlike most modern scholars, medieval readers were sophisticated enough to enjoy transgressive works like Lamentationes Matheoluli. Whether medieval readers appreciated the Achilleid’s concern for the epic devaluation of men’s lives isn’t clear. A monumental review of medieval manuscripts of Statius considered why the Achilleid had been so popular:

The question is very difficult to answer, since the manuscripts afford us very little evidence.

Anderson (2009) v. 3, p. 124.

In earlier Greek myth, Peleus commonly had custody of Achilles after he and Thetis separated. That custodial arrangement changed with Roman imperial gynocentrism:

The centrality that Statius gives to Thetis in Achilles’ infancy is generally reflected in subsequent Roman art. In contradistinction to classical Greek representations of the handover of Achilles, where Peleus is the dominant figure, in the few surviving monuments of Roman art he never appears. The cause of Thetis supplanting Peleus as the dominant parent is surely the Achilleid itself, which intensified the focus on Thetis already begun by Homer to such a degree that Peleus all but vanishes.

Heslin (2003) p. 172.

[5] Achilleid 2.98-100. Heslin (2003), pp. 173-5, discusses the extraordinary act of eating half-alive animals. Chiron was apologetic toward Thetis about his poor dwelling in a cave:

{Chiron} leads her to his poor dwelling, reminding her that it is only a cave.

{ in armos pauperibus tectis inducit et admonet antri. }

Achilleid 1.126. Chiron’s cave was “part excavated by hand, part by geologic age {pars exhausta manu, partem sua ruperat aetas}.” Achilleid 1.108.

[6] Achilleid 1.38-9. The subject could be translated as “I” or “we”. On that ambiguity, Heslin (2003) pp. 171-2. Both Shackleton Bailey and Lombardo translate the subject as “I”.

[7] Achilleid 2.102-5, 110-16. Subsequent quotes are (cited by book.line in the Latin text of the Achilleid): 2.121-8, 138-53 (Chiron would never let me…), 1.195-7 (Night draws…), 1.141 (Just give him to me), 1.271-5 (Why are you looking away…), 1.290-2 (All were surpassingly beautiful…), 1.292-300 (Just as Venus overwhelms…), 1.301-12 (When the defiant boy…), 1.319-22 (Is it so difficult…), 1.323-34 (He begins to soften…), 1.350-8 (I present to you…), 1.567-79 (The rogue chases her…), 1.624-6, 636-9 (How much longer…), 1.642-4 (he gets his way…).

[8] Traveling to Chiron’s cave to take Achilles, Thetis speculated, “he already measures himself with his father’s {Chiron’s} sword {patria iam se metitur in hasta}.” Achilleid 1.41. Achilles himself referred to Chiron as “that father {ille pater} of mine.” Achilleid 2.102. Concluding her extraordinarily good article on teachers and surrogate fathers in Statius’s writings, Fantham perceptively observed about the ending of Silvae 5:

It was, he claims, Statius who gave the newborn the life-giving blow that activated his lungs. Indeed the last fractured lines recall his attempts to comfort the baby, and help him learn to walk and talk; here we come closest to the reality of fatherhood. For Statius the fondest relationship he knew, and could evoke, was that of surrogate or foster father, the role that he had seen his own father perform – the role of a Chiron.

Fantham (1999) pp. 69-70. The legal meaning of fatherhood in current U.S. family law centers on having provided semen and paying a court-ordered monthly dollar amount.

Within ancient myth, Chiron is associated with absence. Within ancient cult, he apparently had “no single site of strong personal residency.” Aston (2006) pp. 355, 361. Aston observed:

He is not a monster, but he resembles one. I think this tells us a great deal
about the perceived reason for his departure and absence: despite being a god, he is not enough of a god, at least in appearance, to be preserved.
Id. p. 362. Chiron provides a poignant figure of fathers in high-income societies today.

[9] Thetis deserves credit for not taking Achilles to Lemnos. She regarded Lemnos as “not providing justice to men {non aequa viris}.” Achilleid 1.206. That’s an understatement. The Lemnian women killed all the men on Lemnos.

[10] Thetis implored Neptune to blow up a storm to destroy the Trojan fleet. Using a tactic that vanquishes most men, she approached him “with bared breast {pectore nudo}.” Achilleid 1.77. Neptune drew upon the force of mythic historical necessity to stand up to Thetis.

[11] Feeney argued for the importance of the male gaze in the Achilleid:

Statius is principally concerned, however, with the male gaze, and especially with the scrutiny of Ulysses. Identifying with Ulysses, and gazing through his eyes as he attempts to spot the difference between Achilles and the ‘other’ girls, is a revealing, disquieting, and rather revolting experience.

Feeney (2004) p. 95. Gazing through Ulysses’s eyes is less revolting than the fate of “Peeping Tom”. Moreover, Statius seems to me more concerned with the epic devaluation of men’s lives than with the male gaze.

Apuleius’s treatment of Socrates is similar to Statius’s treatment of Achilles. Both authors had a keen sense of absurdity and offered critical insight into men’s social position.

[12] With keen feminine sensibility, the girls sought to beautify Athena: “to tie foliage to her severe tresses and scatter flowers upon her spear {severas fronde ligare comas et spargere floribus hastam}.” Achilleid 1.288-9. Men tend to regard as less attractive women who look severe and carry spears.

[13] Ulysses taunted Achilles about Thetis raping him:

Did your crafty mother violate you with women’s clothing?

{ callida femineo genetrix violavit amictu }

Achilleid 2.35. Ovid, writing before Statius, seems to have provided the conceptual language for Statius’s account of Thetis raping Achilles:

the phrase cogique uolentem (“willing to be forced”) … is most striking. It reminds us, of course, of the Ovidian teacher’s comment on Achilles’ rape of Deidamia (sed uoluit uinci uiribus illa tamen, “but she wanted to be overcome by strength,” Ars Am. 1.700).

Davis (2015) p. 172. Thetis raping Achilles powerfully transformed him. Nonetheless, McAuley laments women’s limited power:

{the Achilleid draws} its affective power from the idea of mothers in epic as the recipients of a powerful knowledge, yet whose power to act on that knowledge is painfully circumscribed. … A mother’s knowledge may be epic knowledge, but it does not always bring epic power.

McAuley (2015) pp. 353, 355. Even if they were able to overcome scholarly misandry and truly sought social justice, women alone would lack sufficient power to eliminate the epic devaluation of men’s lives. Men’s participation is essential for freeing them from their oppressive social position.

[14] Lombardo’s translation renders non evitantis in 1.570 as merely the adjective “unflinching” in “{Achilles} sticks too close to her unflinching side.” Given the sordid history of criminalizing men seducing women, the trend toward totalitarian regulation of sexual interaction, and the vastly gender-disproportionate incarceration of men, non evitantis should be translated clearly. I’ve done so above, using essentially the translation of Shackleton Bailey. Such text helps to contextualize men’s behavior under men’s disproportionate gender burden of soliciting amorous relationships. On Achilles’s tactics in attempting to seduce Deidamia, Sanna (2007).

[15] Ulysses craftily urged Achilles to seize weapons:

Why do you hesitate? … You are the foster-son of the half-beast Chiron, you are the grandson of sky and sea.

{ Quid haeres?
…tu semiferi Chironis alumnus,
tu caeli pelagique nepos }

Achilleid 1.867-9. Achilles seized the weapons and went off to fight and die in the Trojan War. Heslin commented:

The problem of Achilles’ ontology – his position as not quite a son of Zeus on the one hand and not quite a son of Chiron on the other – is not merely his own; it is an encapsulation of the human {sic} condition considered as a state of being lying uneasily between the divine and the bestial.
Achilles finally becomes a man under the tutelage of Ulysses…. This is yet another clear illustration of the near-total absence of Peleus from the epic. In default of a real father to guide him, Achilles looks to Zeus, who almost was his father, and to Chiron, who has been his foster-father. The problem is that neither of these examples can teach Achilles how to behave as a man. Thetis steps into the resulting vacuum and creates an Achilles in her own image, an image that endures until the arrival of Ulysses finally brings a role model who can guide Achilles to his destiny.

Heslin (2003) p. 191. Men’s destiny isn’t necessarily to suffer violent death. Both Zeus and Chiron could teach that men do not need to seek glory or women to prove that they are men. Both Zeus and Chiron could teach that men’s lives have irreplaceable value and that men’s lives shouldn’t be wasted in foolish wars or in degrading servitude to women. Zeus and Chiron didn’t teach Achilles these lessons, nor did Ulysses.

Scholars are recognizing the importance in the Achilleid of the meaning of being a man. Looking beyond Achilles to the (eastern) Greeks compared to the (western) Romans, Moul argues:

the Achilleid implicitly explores what it is for the Asians of Troy to become convincing manly Romans by imagining, in contrast, the process by which the Greeks of the Iliad behave like girls.

Moul (2012) p. 300. However, lacking true understanding of men’s social position, Heslin (2003), Moul (2012), Davis (2015), McNelis (2015), and much other work on the Achilleid misses its central, tragic-comic point: the epic devaluation of men’s lives.

[images] Image 1: The centaur Chiron teaching Achilles how to play the lyre. Roman fresco from Herculaneum, first-century GC. Held in the National Archaeological Museum of Naples. Via Wikimedia Commons. Here’s a thematically similar carving on a third-century sarcophagus. Image 2: Chiron teaching Hercules to hunt. Detail from the Achilles plate, a fourth-century Roman work from Pausylypos in Thessaloniki. It shows eleven scenes from the life of Achilles. Six of those scenes include Chiron: (a) Thetis gives Achilles to Chiron, (b) Chiron feeds the toddler Achilles with animal entrails, (c) Achilles rides on Chiron back to learn to hunt, (d) Chiron provides instruction in reading for Achilles, (e) Chiron instructs Achilles to play the lyre, and (f) Chiron relinquishes custody of Achilles to Thetis. Via sketch on Wikimedia Commons, showing scene more clearly than photo of the Achilles plate on Wikimedia Commons. Image 3: Chiron mentoring Achilles in hunting. The Education of Achilles. Oil on convas painting by Bénigne Gagneraux, 1785. Via Wikimedia Commons. Image 4: Chiron provides instruction in reading for Achilles. From Achilles plate, as for Image 2.

References:

Anderson, Harald. 2009. The manuscripts of Statius. Arlington, VA: Creative Space Pub. (online review)

Aston, Emma. 2006. “The Absence of Chiron.” The Classical Quarterly. 56 (2): 349-362.

Aston, Emma. 2009. “Thetis and Cheiron in Thessaly.” Kernos 22, online.

Burgess, Jonathan S. 2009. The death and afterlife of Achilles. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. (online review)

Davis, Peter J. 2015. “Statius’ Achilleid: The Paradoxical Epic.” Ch. 9 (pp. 157-172) in Dominik, William J., Kyle Gervais, and Carole E. Newlands, eds. Brill’s Companion to Statius. Leiden: Brill.

Fantham, Elaine. 1999. “Chironis exemplum: on teachers and surrogate fathers in Achilleid and Silvae.” Hermathena. 167: 59-70.

Feeney, Denis. 2004. “Tenui … Latens Discrimine: Spotting the Differences in Statius’ Achilleid.” Materiali E Discussioni Per L’analisi Dei Testi Classici. 52: 85-105.

Frazer, James George and George Patrick Goold, ed. and trans. 2014. Ovid. Fasti. Loeb Classical Library, 253. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Heslin, Peter J. 2009. The transvestite Achilles: gender and genre in Statius’ Achilleid. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Lombardo, Stanley, trans. 2015. Statius. Achilleid. Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing. (online review)

McAuley, Mairéad. 2015. Reproducing Rome: Motherhood in Virgil, Ovid, Seneca, and Statius. Oxford: Oxford University Press. (online review)

McNelis, Charles. 2015. “Similes and Gender in the Achilleid.” Ch. 11 (pp. 189-204) in Dominik, William J., Kyle Gervais, and Carole E. Newlands, eds. Brill’s Companion to Statius. Leiden: Brill.

Moul, Victoria. 2012. “Quo rapis? Tone and allusion at Aulis in Statius’ Achilleid.” Classical Quarterly. 62 (1): 286-300.

Race, William H., ed. and trans. 2009. Apollonius Rhodius. Argonautica. Loeb Classical Library 1. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009. (Seaton’s 1912 edition online)

Sanna, Lorenzo. 2007. “Achilles, the wise lover and his seductive strategies (Statius, Achilleid 1.560-92).” Classical Quarterly. 57 (1): 207-215.

Shackleton Bailey, D. R., ed. and trans. 2003. Statius. Thebaid, Books VIII-XII; Achilleid. Loeb Classical Library 498. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Ziolkowski, Jan M. 2007. “Mastering Authors and Authorizing Masters in the Long Twelfth Century.” Ch. 6 (pp. 93-188) in Verbaal, Wim, Yanick Maes, and Jan Papy, eds. Latinitas perennis. Vol. 1. Leiden: Brill.

Matthew of Vendôme’s Tobias shows medieval ideal of marriage

marriage bed of Sarah and Tobias

In the Book of Tobit, written about 200 BGC, the parents led the newlyweds Sarah and Tobias to the marital bedroom. They saw Sarah and Tobias get in bed together, as married couples should. But behind the closed doors of the marital bedchamber unusual events occurred:

When the parents had gone out and shut the door of the room, Tobias got out of bed and said to Sarah, “Sister, get up, and let us pray and implore our Lord that he grant us mercy and safety.” So she got up, and they began to pray and implore that they might be kept safe. Tobias began by saying:  “Blessed are you, O God of our ancestors, and blessed is your name in all generations forever. Let the heavens and the whole creation bless you forever. You made Adam, and for him you made his wife Eve as a helper and support. From the two of them the human race has sprung. You said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; let us make a helper for him like himself.’ I now am taking this kinswoman of mine, not because of lust, but with sincerity. Grant that she and I may find mercy and that we may grow old together.” And they both said, “Amen, Amen.”

{ καὶ ἐξῆλθον καὶ ἀπέκλεισαν τὴν θύραν τοῦ ταμιείου καὶ ἠγέρθη Τωβιας ἀπὸ τῆς κλίνης καὶ εἶπεν αὐτῇ ἀδελφή ἀνάστηθι προσευξώμεθα καὶ δεηθῶμεν τοῦ κυρίου ἡμῶν ὅπως ποιήσῃ ἐφ’ ἡμᾶς ἔλεος καὶ σωτηρίαν καὶ ἀνέστη καὶ ἤρξαντο προσεύχεσθαι καὶ δεηθῆναι ὅπως γένηται αὐτοῖς σωτηρία καὶ ἤρξατο λέγειν εὐλογητὸς εἶ ὁ θεὸς τῶν πατέρων ἡμῶν καὶ εὐλογητὸν τὸ ὄνομά σου εἰς πάντας τοὺς αἰῶνας τῆς γενεᾶς εὐλογησάτωσάν σε οἱ οὐρανοὶ καὶ πᾶσα ἡ κτίσις σου εἰς πάντας τοὺς αἰῶνας σὺ ἐποίησας τὸν Αδαμ καὶ ἐποίησας αὐτῷ βοηθὸν στήριγμα Ευαν τὴν γυναῖκα αὐτοῦ καὶ ἐξ ἀμφοτέρων ἐγενήθη τὸ σπέρμα τῶν ἀνθρώπων καὶ σὺ εἶπας ὅτι οὐ καλὸν εἶναι τὸν ἄνθρωπον μόνον ποιήσωμεν αὐτῷ βοηθὸν ὅμοιον αὐτῷ καὶ νῦν οὐχὶ διὰ πορνείαν ἐγὼ λαμβάνω τὴν ἀδελφήν μου ταύτην ἀλλ’ ἐπ’ ἀληθείας ἐπίταξον ἐλεῆσαί με καὶ αὐτὴν καὶ συγκαταγηρᾶσαι κοινῶς καὶ εἶπαν μεθ’ ἑαυτῶν αμην αμην } [1]

How many married couples spent their first night together like that?

Sarah, it must be said, wasn’t like most brides today. She was young and very beautiful, respected her father, and lived with her still-married parents. She had no children from previous marriages. While most brides today have been married no more than a few times previously, Sarah had already been married seven times. On each wedding night, her husband had died in the marriage bed. Reportedly a “demon” killed them. A maid said that Sarah killed them. In any case, Sarah remained a virgin.

Tobias had his own personal trauma. One night, his father Tobit slept in the courtyard with his face uncovered because of the heat. Sparrows that landed on the wall pooped. Their fresh droppings fell into Tobit’s eyes and covered them with a white film. Physicians repeatedly treated Tobit with eye ointments for the bird droppings that were obscuring his vision. He then became completely blind.[2] As most children did before recent decades of intensive public indoctrination, Tobias loved his father. He deeply felt his father’s pain as his father struggled with the hardship of being blind.

In twelfth-century France, Matthew of Vendôme clarified how Tobias differed from Sarah’s previous husbands. Given that Sarah was very beautiful, her previous husbands had understandably lusted to have sex with her:

The demon destroys those for whom fleshly delight,
not offspring, urges the taking of her virginity.
Whoever delights, like a horse or a mule, in abusing
marriage, perishes, overcome by love of the flesh.

{ Hos daemon perimit quos delectatio carnis,
Non sobolis, stimulat virginitate frui.
Quisquis sicut equus aut mulus guadet abuti
Coniugio, carnis victus amore perit. } [3]

Tobias, in contrast, loved Sarah in accordance with medieval ideals of gender equality:

Like beauty blesses the pair alike in mind; a like grace of
customs, accordant wishes, and love of the same faith bless them.
A marriage is happy, a bond is equal, when they are united together
whose religion is the same, race is the same, faith is one.
The two are equals; the likeness of mind refuses to make unequal
those whom equality of looks and age make equal.
A chaste girl weds a pious husband, a faithful wife weds a law-abiding man,
a man worthy of the wife, a girl worthy of the husband.

{ Mente pares, par forma beat, par gratia morum,
Consona vota, paris religionis amor,
Felix coniugium, par copula dum sociantur,
Quorum par pietas, par genus, una fides.
Ambo pares, paritas quos comparat oris et aevi,
Mentis comparitas dispariare negat.
Nubit casta pio, iusto devota, puella,
Coniuge vir dignus, digna puella viro. }

Sarah was not only young and outwardly beautiful, but she was also beautiful in personal character:

Beyond her feminine sex, the young maiden flourishes
in good morals, a rare crop in a delicate bosom.
She strives to be pure and decent; her beauty to purity,
just as her purity to beauty, is eager to unite itself.
Sweet in conversation, succinct in speech, modest in
appearance, lacking in guile, obliging in gifts,
temperate of soul, free of rambling discourse, unknowing of
pride, pleasing in her practical simplicity,
her brow bears arms excluding favor
forbidden, her beauty refuses to favor Venus.
Her beauty swears an oath of peace with purity; and the enemy
being usually present, it is eager to perpetuate trust.
The woman couples being law-abiding, capable, pious, beautiful, and modest.
She thus binds opposites that are eager to flow away.

{ Ultra femineum sexum virguncula vernat
Moribus, in fragili pectore rara seges.
Esse pudica decens satagit se forma pudori,
Seque pudor formae conciliare studet.
Alloquio suavis, verbo succincta, modesta
Vultu, fraude carens, officiosa datis,
Sobria mente, vago discursu libera, fastus
Nescia, consulta simplicitate placens.
Arma supercilium gerit exclusiva favoris
Illiciti, Veneri forma favere negat.
Forma pudicitiae pacem coniurat, et hostis
Quae solet esse, fidem perpetuare studet.
Femina iusta, potens, pia, pulchra, modesta, maritat.
Sic adversa ligat, quae fluitare student. }

Tobias had much more to love in Sarah than just her beautiful body. She was a woman who wouldn’t talk incessantly while showing no interest in him. She would give him gifts, not just expect him to give her gifts. Moreover, she seemed unlikely to cuckold him. Not surprisingly, Tobias prayed that Sarah and he would grow old together.

Tobias married Sarah, not because of lust, but because she was a good woman with whom to beget children and to glorify God. According to Matthew of Vendôme, Tobias on his wedding night prayed:

May everything bless You, Almighty God. May fire,
water, air, and earth show their praises.
It pleased You to fashion our first parent from the mud
of the earth; he was alone, without offspring.
Your ordering determined that Eve be joined to him as a
companion; from this our race proceeds.
So unite us, so strengthen the covenant of our
marriage, so may You wish us to bear fruit.
Let not the wantonness of Venus stir us, but
children, but the love of offspring.
May harmony of lawful sentiments unite us and befriend us,
not bound by the robber of modesty, eros.
Give us offspring, I beg, who will strive through successive
ages of the world to extol Your glory.

{ Te, Deus omnipotens, benedicant singula, laudes
Exhibeant ignis, humor, inane, solum.
De limo terrae placuit formare parentem
Primum; solus erat posteritatis inops.
Huic Evam sociam tua dispensatio iungi
Disposuit, nostrum pullulat unde genus.
Sic nos consocia, sic firma foedera nostri
Coniugii, sic nos fructificare velis.
Non nos sollicitat Veneris lascivia, verum
Progenies, verum posteritatis amor.
Nos sociat, nos legitimae consensus amicat
Mentis, non teneri praedo pudoris amor.
Da sobolem, rogo, quae studeat per saecula saecli
Successiva tuum magnificare decus. } [4]

According to Matthew of Vendôme, Sarah added the prayer to God:

God, have pity, I pray, have pity on the two of us,
so that we might be allowed to grow old together.

{ Miserere, precor, miserere duorum
Ut nobis liceat consenuisse, Deus. } [5]

Drawing upon medieval Latin literature’s great appreciation for the power of women, Matthew of Vendôme allowed Sarah to conclude with the most important prayer for the couple. Sarah and Tobias had many children.[6] They didn’t impoverish themselves and traumatize their children by having lawyers fight for them a long, bitter divorce. They didn’t even get divorced. They grew old together.

Marriages today aren’t like that of Sarah and Tobias. Many marriages weren’t like theirs even in the twelfth century. Matthew of Vendôme griped:

How much the beauty of the previously described marriage stands apart
from marriages of today! What bed is without stain?

What woman weds, what man now takes a wife for love of
children? Who refuses to be Venus’s armor-bearer?

{ Quantum coniugii praefati forma modernis
Distat coniugiis, quis sine labe torus?

Quae nubit, vel quis nunc uxoratur amore
Prolis? quis Veneris armiger esse negat? }

Being Venus’s armor-bearer means fighting with the aim of gratifying lust. That’s not what marital wrestling typically is like. Marrying under the false belief that marriage provides ample, lustful sex is like buying a plane ticket to get the free packet of peanuts aboard the flight. Many men and women throughout history haven’t understood, to their great sorrow.

The Book of Tobit has delighted and instructed readers for more than two millennia. It includes sensational stories of husband-killing and bird-poop blindness. Yet the most impressive part of the Book of Tobit is more subtle. Readers have been deeply moved by Tobias and Sarah being destined for each other, by Tobias declaring that he married Sarah “not because of lust, but with sincerity,” and by his praying that he and Sarah would grow old together.[7] In twelfth-century France, Matthew of Vendôme described how special Tobias and Sarah were. Nonetheless, many couples romantically in love today still imagine themselves to be in part like Tobias and Sarah.

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Read more:

Notes:

[1] Book of Tobit 8:5-8, English translation from the New American Bible, revised edition; Greek text mainly from fourth-century Codex Sinaiticus (Greek II). On the manuscript tradition of the Book of Tobit, Di Lella (2007). The Greek text is available online via Kata Biblon. Fragments of the Book of Tobit in Aramaic and Hebrew were found in Cave IV near Qumran. A Jewish sect, perhaps the Essenes, stored manuscripts in that cave and others near Qumran.

The charming double “amen” that concludes Tobit 8:8 is best understood as a mimetic representation of Tobias and Sarah praying together. Translating those double speaking voices into linear narrative text may have been a matter of some uncertainty. The Greek I text has only a single “amen.” See Di Lella (2007) p. 469, column 2. The Tobit of the Vulgate, Jerome’s Latin translation of the fourth century, doesn’t have any “amen” concluding the wedding-night prayers. Jerome made his Vulgate translation of Tobit from an Aramaic (Chaldee) text. A double “amen” subsequently become common, but not as a creative literary device.

The Book of Tobit isn’t included in the Jewish biblical canon. The Roman Catholic Church and the Eastern Orthodox Church, for which the Septuagint formed the basis for the Old Testament canon, include the Book of Tobit in the Bible. Most Protestant churches exclude it.

[2] Disparagement of physicians has been prominent for more than two millennia. Jesus was figured as a good physician. Anti-medical satire continued to be prominent in the Middle Ages.

[3] Matthew of Vendôme, Tobias (Poetic paraphrase of the Book of Tobit {Paraphrasis metrica in librum Tobiae}) ll. 1137-40, Latin text from Müldener (1855) p. 63 (see also Patrologia Latina 205.957C); English translation adapted from Pepin (1999) p. 116.

The Vulgate, but not the Greek sources of Tobit, includes the metaphor of the lustful husband having sex like a horse or mule. Just as in Tobias, the angel Raphael advises three days of sexual abstinence beginning from the wedding night. Vulgate Tobit 6:16-22.

Patrologia Latina 205 is available online via the Internet Archive, while the base text from that source is available in a machine-readable version via Corpus Córporum: repositorium operum Latinorum apud universitatem Turicensem. The currently best Latin text of Tobias is Munari (1982). That text isn’t available even in many high-quality libraries. I thus wasn’t able to consult it. Here’s an online digital reproduction of a fourteenth-century manuscript of Tobias (Lewis E 154 Tobias, from the Free Library of Philadelphia collection, hosted by the University of Pennsylvania).

Subsequent quotes from Tobias are (cited by line in the Latin text of Müldener (1855) and page in the English translation of Pepin (1999)): ll. 1225-32, p. 119 (Like beauty blesses…); ll. 1243-56, pp. 119-20 (Beyond her feminine sex…); ll. 1291-304, p. 121 (May all things bless You…); ll. 1305-6, p. 121 (God, have pity…); ll. 1257-8, 1265-6, p. 129 (How much the beauty…). I’ve adapted Pepin’s translation to follow Müldener’s Latin text and to adhere more closely to the Latin. The differences among the Latin texts of Tobias are relatively small in the quotes above. I’ve adjusted some of the punctuation, which isn’t original.

[4] According to Matthew of Vendôme, Tobias’s father similarly married for love of offspring and had a marriage of gender equality:

Lest he might have more women, like a stud, Tobias
chooses Anna to be the sharer of his bed.
Not by the inducement of Venus does he take a wife, but
for the love of offspring; he loves to be fruitful to God.
The young man’s license is curbed: a prudent bride
is given to a just groom, an equal to an equal.
Virtue is glad to marry virtue, honor rejoices
to be the companion of equal honor.
The joining of good people is more harmonious and agreeable;
a flower is more pleasing with a flower, color with color.

{ Ne plures habeat velut emissarius, Annam
Tobias sociam destinat esse tori,
Non incentivo Veneris, sed prolis amore
Uxoratur, amat fructificare Deo.
Est adolescentis frenata licentia, sponso
Sponsa datur, iusto sobria parque pari.
Nubere virtuti virtus laetatur, honestas
Gaudet honestatis, comparat esse comes,
Consonat et redolet melius iunctura bonorum,
Gratior est flos cum flore, colore color. }

Tobias ll. 119-28, p. 86.

[5] Matthew of Vendôme followed the Vulgate’s structure for the prayers of Tobias and Sarah, including having no ending “amen.”

[6] Exactly how many children Tobias and Sarah had is a textual difficulty. In Greek II (see Di Lella (2007)), Tobit refers twice to the “children” of Sarah and Tobias (Tobit 14:3, 14:8-9). Greek I (see Di Lella (2007)) refers to the “six sons” of Tobias (Tobit 14:3) and “his sons” (Tobit 14:12). The Vulgate describes Tobit as seeing “the children of his grandchildren” (Tobit 14:1), Sarah and Tobias as having “seven sons” (Tobit 14:5) and departing for Media with “children, and children’s children” (Tobit 14:14), and Tobias seeing “his children’s children to the fifth generation” (Tobit 14:15).

[7] Both ancient Greek texts of Tobit declare that Tobias and Sarah were destined for each other. The angel Raphael tells Tobias:

she was set apart for you from before the world existed. You will save her, and she will go with you.

{ σοὶ γάρ ἐστιν μεμερισμένη πρὸ τοῦ αἰῶνος καὶ σὺ αὐτὴν σώσεις καὶ μετὰ σοῦ πορεύσεται }

Tobit 6:18, Greek text from Codex Sinaiticus, English translation from the New American Bible, Revised. Tobias, following the Vulgate, doesn’t include this declaration, but has the angel Raphael assure Sarah’s father:

Believe me, your daughter is reserved for this youth; she alone
owes the treasure of her virginity to him alone.

{ Crede, reservatur puero tua filia: sola
Debet ei soli virginitatis opes. }

Tobias ll. 1195-6, English trans. Pepin (1999) p. 118. Cf. Vulgate Tobit 7:12.

[image] The Marriage bed of Tobias and Sarah. Oil on canvas painting by Jan Steen, c. 1660. Held in Museum Bredius (The Hague), acc. Inv.nr. 112a-1946, Cat. nr.155. Via Wikimedia Commons.

References:

Di Lella, Alexander A. 2007. “Tobit.” Parallel English translation of the two primary Greek editions. Ch. 19 (pp. 45-477) in Pietersma, Albert, and Benjamin G. Wright, eds. 2007. A new English translation of the Septuagint: and the other Greek translations traditionally included under that title. New York: Oxford University Press. See also correction and emendations (2009) and corrections and emendations (2014).

Müldener, Friedrich August Wilhelm, ed. 1855. Matthaei Vindocinensis Tobias. Gottingae: Sumptibus Dieterichianis.

Munari, Franco, ed. 1982. Mathei Vindocinensis opera. Vol. 2: Piramus et Tisbe. Milo. Epistule. Tobias. Roma: Edizioni di storia e letteratura.

Pepin, Ronald E. 1999. An English translation of Auctores octo, a medieval reader. Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen Press.

types of lust, marriage in Paradise & annulments in medieval thought

Liber floretus on lust

Within the eight works (Auctores octo) that made up the canon of late-medieval education, one was a twelfth-century poem of Christian doctrine. Called Floretus, this work has been almost wholly ignored in recent centuries. Yet Floretus provides an insightful catalog of lust, a succinct definition of the purpose of marriage, and liberal grounds for arguing divorce and annulment cases.

Floretus strongly condemns men’s lust, the cement of gynocentrism. Echoing medieval MGTOW’s contempt for the world, Floretus implores:

Flee lust; may you be chaste, without sin.
Nothing defiled by lust is pleasing to the Lord.
Whoever consents in the act or, since it delights him,
whoever consents in doing the deed, sins by means of lust.
A carnal act is always destructive outside of
marriage in which there is worthy consent.

{ Luxuriam fugias, castus sine crimine fias!
Nil Domino gratum fit luxuria maculatum.
Luxuria peccat quis, qui consentit in actum
Vel, cum delectat, concentit agendoque factum.
Actus carnalis est semper pernicialis
Demptis coniugibus, quibus est concessus honestus. } [1]

Modern doctrine of affirmative consent emphasizes the ever-present danger of rape even within marriage. While medieval doctrine regulated sex more tolerantly, it recognized six species of lust:

There are said to be six species of lust, namely these:
Between those not properly wed, it is called fornication.
Defilement is caused when an unwilling maiden is violated.
The violator of another’s spouse is called an adulterer.
With one’s relatives or a nun, it is incest.
When one is seized and forcefully overwhelmed, it is rape.
The abominable sodomite sins against nature.

{ Luxurie species dicuntur scilicet hee sex:
Inter non nuptos proprie fornix fore fertur,
Stuprum causatur, cum virgo nolens violatur,
Coniugis alterius violator fertur adulter,
Cum sibi cognatus incenstus vel moniali,
Raptus cum rapitur ac opprimitur violenter.
Contra naturam peccat zodomita nephandus. }

Most of these types of lust are no longer regarded as illicit, at least if they don’t involve a man gazing on a woman. Having sex outside of marriage, as well as becoming a single mother, are actions now commonly regarded as highly desirable. A man who has sex with another’s spouse is now called a man not liable for child support. While incest oddly remains condemned, having sex with a nun (a religious sister) is no longer considered wrong. In fact, some now regard having consensual, lesbian sex with a nun to be salvific. Same-sex sex and same-sex marriage have been recognized by the U.S. Supreme Court as rights set out in the U.S. Constitution.

Rape and defilement are more complex matters. Rape of women and falsely accusing men of rape have been serious crimes throughout all of human history. However, authoritative media today regularly trivialize the issue of falsely accusing men of rape. Medieval understanding of rape didn’t include women raping men. Women raping men only recently was included within the FBI’s definition of rape. The reality that men and women are raped in roughly equal numbers isn’t widely recognized. Moreover, a woman having sex with an under-age boy almost always isn’t called rape in news reports. It does, however, put the boy at risk of having to pay child support to his rapist. Some now regard a woman having consensual sex with a man as defiling the woman. In practice, a man behaving sexually in a way that displeased a woman and thus defiled her can be subject to harsh extra-judicial punishment when the woman decades later decides to publicly denounce him for his offense. Leading authorities didn’t prominently report such denunciations in the Middle Ages.

Floretus recognizes marriage as a sacrament and describes marriage as having an exalted position and essential functions. It declares:

God first established marriage in Paradise,
joining the man and woman whom He had created for
lawfully bringing about and fostering offspring,
and to avoid, on account of its sin, lust of the flesh.
The goods of marriage are offspring, faith, and the sacrament.
The faithful who marry ought to guard these three
so that they might beget offspring and always keep their faith,
so that they might always live together and help each other at the same time.

{ Coniugium primo fecit Deus in paradiso
Associans hominem, quos fecerat, et mulierem
Ad prolem dandum legaliter atque fovendum;
Fit quoque pro culpa luxus carnis fugienda.
Coniugii bona sun prolesque fides, sacramentum:
Hec tria nubentes debent servare volentes,
Ut prolem generent semperque fidem sibi servent,
Ut conversentur semper simul atque iuventur. } [2]

One medieval writer described marriage as a prison. Another eloquently cautioned his friend against marriage. Floretus idealistically describes marriage as an institution of Paradise. However, Floretus puts forward broad grounds for annulling Hellish marriages:

Marriage is made by consent, but the consent
itself ought to be shown by signs or by words.
When the marriage is contracted, then let it be seen
before it is performed whether an impediment is known.
For they sin wickedly who unit in matrimony against the law.
Error, status, a vow, affinity, crime,
disparate social status, law, orders, a bond, reputation,
if you are related by marriage, if by chance you cannot copulate:
these forbid marriages to be performed, they retract those performed.

{ Fit quoque coniugium concensu, sed decet ipsum
Concensum signis ostendere sive loquelis.
Quando tractatur, bene coniugium videatur,
Antea quam factum, si sic patet inpedimentum;
Nam male peccarent, si contra ius sociarent.
Arror, condicio, votum, cogracio, crimen,
Cultus disparitas, ius, ordo, ligamen, honestas,
Si sis affinis, si forte coire nequibis:
Hec socianda vetant connubia, facta retractent. } [3]

The divorce industry is big business. Yet ignorance of medieval Latin literature has caused many factors with deep historical roots to be overlooked in litigating divorce cases and in seeking annulments. Better knowledge of Floretus could help divorce litigators to consume more quickly all of their clients’ financial resources in arguing divorce cases. Better knowledge of Floretus could help divorced persons more easily find grounds for claiming an annulment.

Most persons are almost wholly ignorant of laws governing divorce, alimony, child custody, and child support. Yet those laws are hugely important in ordinary persons’ lives. As part of the core curriculum of late-medieval education, Floretus helped to teach young men about family law. Young women and men desperately need such education today.

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Notes:

[1] Floretus ll. 165-70, Latin text from Orbán (1979), English translation adapted from Pepin (1999) p. 221. Floretus means literally “Flower Garden.” This poem is commonly ascribed to Bernard of Clairvaux, but no good evidence supports that attribution. Pepin (1999) p. 213. On its dating to the twelfth century, id. p. 2. Floretus is also called Liber floretus.

Medieval and modern evaluations of Floretus differ greatly. A medieval Latin scholar writing about 1890 declared:

The Middle Ages has left us some good poems, and many bad ones. One of the worst is certainly this one {Floretus}. It is therefore better for the author that his name is not known.

Hauréau (1890) p. 44, cited with English translation above in Pepin (1999) p. 213. Medieval thinkers had a much different view. At least thirteen manuscripts of Floretus have survived. See Floretus at Arlima. It was printed as a separate work at least three times in Cologne between 1491 and 1499. Id. p. 215. Numerous texts of Floretus also survive in editions of works from Auctores octo morales, e.g. Liber Minores (see Gutiérrez (2009)).

Subsequent quotes from Floretus are (cited by line number in Orbán’s text and page number in Pepin’s translation):  ll. 171-7, p. 221 (There are said to be six species…); ll. 512-19, p. 231 (God first established marriage…); ll. 520-8, p. 231 (Marriage is made by consent…).

[2] Floretus, ll. 178-88, adds after the catalog of lust further reasons to flee lust. The last couplet picks up the marriage motif of Paradise (Eden / Heaven) and adds the implicitly contrasting motif of the Underworld (Hell):

It {lust} darkens our vision and eventually takes away Paradise:
it subjects us to demons and drags us at last to the Underworld.

{ Obtenebrat visum, tandem tollit paradisum,
Demonibus subdit et in Orcum denique trudit. }

Floretus ll. 179-80, p. 221. Some manuscripts substitute “Hell {inferno}” for “Underworld {Orcum}.” Orbán (1979) p. 9, note c.

[3] These twelve impediments are cited nearly identically in Vincent of Beauvais, Mirror of History {Speculum Historiale} 4.298. Cited by Orbán (1979) p. 24, note p. “Error {Arror}” carries the sense of wrongly identified person. Id. note 16. In some manuscripts of Floretus, the seventh impediment “law {ius}” is replaced by “violence {vis}.” Id. note q.

[image] Catalog of lust in Floretus. From a Floretus manuscript held in München, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek. The online text doesn’t specifically identify the manuscript.

References:

Gutiérrez Galindo, Marco Antonio. 2009. Antonio de Nebrija. Libri minores. Salamanca: Ediciones Universidad de Salamanca.

Hauréau, Barthélemy. 1890. Des poémes latins attribués a Saint Bernard. Paris: Klincksieck.

Orbán, Árpád Peter, ed. 1979. Liber floretus: herausgegeben nach der Hs. Utrecht, U.B. 283. Kastellaun/Hunsrück: Henn.

Pepin, Ronald E. 1999. An English translation of Auctores octo, a medieval reader. Lewiston, N.Y.: Edwin Mellen Press.