Investigation of meaningful patterns within the liber Catulli requires the researcher to postulate one or more principles of organization. Chronological arrangement has been ruled out ever since critics stopped regarding Catullus’ work as a kind of poetic blog. As we saw, one model that took its place was that of the cycle or cluster: the polymetric collection, and perhaps the epigrams as well, might be organized as sequences of poems linked by subject matter though not necessarily juxtaposed. Heck perceived clusters only in the polymetrics, but Barwick (1958) defined five cycles organized around main characters, three in the polymetrics - Lesbia (cc. 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 11); Furius and Aurelius (cc. 15, 16, 21, 23, 24, 26); Veranius and Fabullus (cc. 9, 12, 13, 28, 47) - and two in the epigrams, Gellius (cc. 74, 80, 88, 89, 90, 91, 116) and Mentula (cc. 94, 105, 114, 115). Other scholars subsequently chimed in with several additional cycles and mini-cycles built upon themes and tropes as well as persons.5 Objections soon followed. Since the notion of‘‘cycle’’ is ill-defined, any repetition of name or coincidence of motif is easily pressed into creating a cyclic linkage, however strained. Furthermore, this formula fails to account for the placement of poems within a series or the presence of extraneous pieces in the collection that appear to have no relationship to others. It has been pronounced too fuzzy, then, to serve as a controlling principle of organization (Wiseman 1969: 3-4). While the presence of clearly structured sequences at the beginning of the polymetric collection - the ‘‘Lesbia’’ and the ‘‘Furius-Aurelius’’ cycles - is now, as we will see, generally accepted, various attempts to project such patterns onto the rest of the corpus have not earned the same degree of recognition.
For the polymetric section, arrangement by meter seems a hypothetical possibility, and investigators have accordingly put forth metrically based schemes of organization. H. J. Mette (1956) proposed that pieces in alternating aeolic and iambic measures were set out in three unequal concentric circles around the core-poems 11, 31, and 51 - two compositions in Sapphic strophes and one in choliambs. The correlations he drew, though, appeared more ingenious than convincing, since his quasi-symmetrical units differed in number of lines and colometric structure. Placement of non-hendecasyllabic pieces is also essential to Dion’s (1993) analysis of polymetric design, as her ‘‘ensembles’’ are marked off, frequently but not always, by the occurrence of an iambic poem in the final position. Again, though, her groupings might appear more ingenious than natural. Jocelyn (1999) recently revived the notion of a purely metrical arrangement. He divides the meters of poems 1-616 into three distinct groups: the ‘‘Phalaecian’’ (hendecasyllabic) epigrams, the poems in iambs, and the mele, or poems in lyric measures (cc. 11, 17, 30, 34, 51, 61). Linguistic and stylistic features of the latter poems, belonging to a higher register, deviate markedly from the more conventional language of the Phalaecian verses and the iambs. These six pieces are distributed at regular intervals among the other items in what Jocelyn believes to be a formal arrangement obvious to an ancient reader. Yet he leaves the question of the designer open, stating that ‘‘a scholarly editor aware of the generic distinctions of verse writing would seem at least as likely as the poet’’ to have been responsible (p. 341). Since Jocelyn excludes considerations of meaning from his discussion, and indeed seems to doubt whether thematic coherence is present at all in the corpus, his observations on the disposition of poems, though tantalizing, remain inconclusive.
With Otto Skutsch’s discovery of metrical variations in the first foot of the hen-decasyllabic line (1969), a different scheme of arrangement emerged. The opening foot of the hendecasyllable, termed the ‘‘aeolic base,’’ is normally spondaic; in Catullus’ successors, such as Martial, spondees are the rule. Greek metrical practice, however, permitted the substitution of an iamb or trochee, and the poets of Catullus’ generation allowed themselves the same freedom.7 In the polymetric section of the liber Catulli, the position of poems having at least one non-spondaic, or ‘‘lighter,’’ base is unexpected, as they are not scattered throughout. If the dedication to Nepos is excluded, this section falls into two parts: the first, poems 2 through 26, contains 263 hendecasyllabic lines, of which only three have an iambic, and none a trochaic, base;8 in the 279 lines of the second part, poems 27 to 60, there are 33 iambic and 30 trochaic bases. The dedicatory poem has one iambic and three trochaic bases in ten lines, conforming to metrical practice in the second half of the polymetrics. Since the dedication would have been composed later than the rest of the poems, the roughly chronological placement of the hendecasyllabics suggests a change in technique. For this part of the collection, there seems to be a correlation between metrical and thematic arrangements; the shift to lighter bases occurs after poem 26, reinforcing Barwick’s contention that a cycle of poems ends there.
Two other Latinists immediately perceived the implications of this find. Kenneth Quinn noted that the dedication to Nepos must therefore have introduced a volume containing both groups of hendecasyllabics: ‘‘That the arrangement of the hendecasyllabic poems is due to an editor, who sandwiched 2-26 in between 1 and 27-58, or hit upon the idea for himself of arranging the poems in accordance with this minor variation in metrical usage, can be ruled out’’ (1972b: 14; cf. 1973b: 387). T. P. Wiseman took conjecture a step further: poems apparently written just after Catullus’ return from Bithynia in the spring of 56 bc contain no lighter bases, but those datable to 55-54 BC do. In the first half of the polymetrics, all three instances of a non-spondaic base occur in the ‘‘Lesbia cycle’’ (at lines 2.4, 3.17 and 7.2). Wiseman accordingly dates the affair itself to the period between late 56 and early 54 bc (1974: 109-10). When the book was compiled, certain Lesbia poems were placed at the beginning for special emphasis, at the price of metrical uniformity.
Skutsch’s observation strengthened existing belief that the poems at the beginning of the collection were disposed in architectonic patterns that contribute to meaning. According to Barwick, the course of the affair is reflected in the positioning of the matching poems that constitute the Lesbia cycle, as the spacing between the elements of each pair increases (1958: 312). Segal (1968) elaborated on this insight by tracing out the progression of the six Lesbia pieces from lightheartedness to disillusionment and rejection. He noted, moreover, that poems 2-11 could also be divided into two pentads in which the poems not concerned with Lesbia still corresponded to and cross-referenced each other. Barwick likewise pointed out formal correspondences between the triad of poems attacking Aurelius (15, 16, 21) and those directed at Furius (23, 24, 26), apparently intended to drive home resemblances between the two cronies (p. 315). E. A. Schmidt drew thematic parallels between the poems that made up the Furius-Aurelius cycle and the intervening poems 17, 22, and 25 (1973: 220-1). Finally, Schmidt asserted that the arrangement of poems 9, 12, and 13, which feature Catullus’ friends Veranius and Fabullus, associates those figures with Lesbia but also mirrors the triadic layout of the Aurelius and Furius sequences, serving as a structural pivot (pp. 224-5). Coincidence of metrical disposition and architectonic design thus induced perceptions of tight logical patterning, which have convinced many that Catullus indeed arranged this one section of his libellus - but have also prompted recent attempts to truncate the whole.
The structures of Catullus’ longer poems have frequently been analyzed as specimens of ring-composition (Thomson 1961; Wiseman 1974: 59-76; Traill 1988). Search for circular configuration has also been extended to parts of the corpus: for example, Most (1981) explains Catullus’ carmina maiora as a series of concentric rings balanced symmetrically around poem 64, which through its mythic vignettes recapitulates the themes of the poems that surround it. Others have sought to trace annular patterns from first poem to last. Helena Dettmer published her master-plan of the collection in 1997. That scheme consists of nine successive rings of thematically related pieces - five rings in the polymetrics, one ring of longer poems, three rings in the epigrams - and a five-poem tag at the end. Associations between related items are determined by a variety of factors: dramatis personae, verbal echoes, thematic parallels or inversions, lesser motifs. Structural design is reinforced by a network of mathematical symmetries; corresponding units are shown to have equivalent numbers of lines. Dettmer’s blueprint, though unlike Heck’s in its configurations, is just as complicated and, according to critics, labors under the same constraints. Three polymetric items (cc. 17, 30, and 48) find no counterpart in the plan and their presence has to be explained away (1997: 49-50, 63-4, 100-1). To make the numerical totals in the polymetrics come out, lacunae for which we have no evidence must be posited (pp. 246-7). ‘‘Themes’’ of certain poems are elastically defined in order to forge a contrived correspondence (Forsyth 1993: 495; Claes 2002: 22). Finally, as I myself have wondered (2003: 189 n. 24), how could the reader of a scroll, who would encounter just a portion of the text at any time, be in a position to grasp the intricacies of this layout?
New attention to the mechanics of the ancient reading process has encouraged the application of a linear strategy to the analysis of Greco-Roman poetry collections.9 Although the possibility of concentric patterning is by no means excluded, in this model the underlying frame of reference is sequential, entailed by the physical act of unrolling and stretching out the papyrus scroll and the experience of assimilating exposed content one column at a time. As the reader peruses the collection, she relates each poem encountered to the preceding and following ones, imposing narrative unity on the whole by ascribing it to a single subjectivity, that of the first-person speaker.10 For any one poem, though, a variety of potential narrative associations is possible, so each ‘‘can only be interpreted in terms of its dialogical relations with the other poems in the collection’’ (Miller 1994: 51). Accordingly, multiple readings of the text are admissible and the case for meaningful positioning can be presented as likely, but not certain.
Beck, as we saw, applied a linear strategy of reading to part, not all, of the corpus. Subsequent advocates of Catullan editorship used this method to trace lines of thematic development in other sections of the liber Catulli, such as the Lesbia cycle (Segal 1968; Rankin 1972), the polymetrics as a group (Clausen 1976;11 Skinner 1981),12 and, most notably, the longer poems. Godo Lieberg’s pioneering study proposed to uncover the scheme of arrangement in 61 through 68 ‘‘passando di carme in carme,’’ noting formal and thematic connections along the way (1958: 23). Relations among 61 through 64 were evident: three of the four poems deal with marriage and love between spouses, while 63, in contrast, depicts a young man seized by religious, as opposed to sexual, passion. There are, nevertheless, striking situational parallels between Attis in 63 and Ariadne in 64: both are overcome by furor; both stand on a beach lamenting their lost homelands; the emotional state of each figure is described in similar terms (pp. 32-4). While the elegiac poems 65 to 68 differ from the epithalamia and mythic narratives metrically and thematically, marriage is touched upon briefly in 66 and 67 and resurfaces as a motif at 68.143-6 when Catullus distinguishes his illegitimate union from genuine wedlock (pp. 46-7).
Starting at this point, Schafer (1966: 73-7) proposed that the marriage theme runs continuously through all the longer poems, with the sole exception of 63; following him, Wiseman (1969: 20-5) argued that it was the main criterion of arrangement, since it builds to the crucial opposition of marriage and adultery in 68b. Lastly, Sandy’s demonstration (1971) that Attis’ fanatic self-surrender to Cybele is akin to a conjugal pledge has now fully justified, for some interpreters, the inclusion of 63 among the matrimonial poems: ‘‘it is a kind of anti-epithalamium’’ (Ferguson 1988: 34).
Is it possible to read the entire liber Catulli, from beginning to end, as a meaningful ensemble? Since the publication of Catullan Questions in 1969, T. P. Wiseman has been the most consistent and passionate advocate of that position and is responsible, more than any other scholar, for persuading the field of Catullan studies to reconsider Wheeler’s arguments. After a theoretical consideration of the issues, Wiseman began his first Catullan monograph by dividing the polymetrics into three subsections: the Lesbia cycle (2-14); the Juventius cycle (15-26); and a set of primarily invective verses (28-60). The Juventius cycle was introduced by the programmatic poem 14a, warning the reader that poems of an ‘‘avowedly homosexual nature’’ would follow, the invective section by another programmatic poem, 27, which promised calices amar-iores, ‘‘bitterer cups’’ (1969: 7-8). Two subsidiary themes punctuate the Lesbia and Juventius cycles: urbanity and its opposite, vulgarity, and foreign travel, the latter providing a wider perspective on the poet’s world. In the invective section, however, the reader is summoned back from such exotic places as Bithynia and Adriatic ports of call to Rome and its corrupt politics. Following the carmina maiora and their preoccupation with marriage, the epigrams fall into two divisions. Like Beck, Wiseman perceives an obvious break between 69-92, which combine the compulsively recurring topics of Lesbia’s infidelity and betrayal of friendship with accusations of incest and oral sex, and 93-115, largely political, culminating in furious digs at the poet’s arch-enemy ‘‘Mentula.’’13 Interlocking sequences in the first half terminate in revelations that the invective target - Rufus, Gellius - has been Lesbia’s lover, but the political squibs in the second half are more casually associated and interspersed with unrelated occasional poems (25-9). In this way, Wiseman showed it was possible to follow a plausible unfolding line of narrative in the liber Catulli.
Although insisting that Catullus had published all three parts of the collection himself, Wiseman admitted certain difficulties with that hypothesis. The volume containing the carmina maiora, 61 through 68, would have been considerably longer than the other two. Moreover, several verbal similarities in the putatively independent epigram book seemed to be explicit cross-references to poem 68. Three years later, Kenneth Quinn’s Catullus: An Interpretation offered an alternative scenario. Once Suss had pointed out the dedicatory aspects of poem 65 and the repetition of carmina Battiadae in 65 and 116, some critics preferred to separate 65-8 from the carmina maiora and regard them as a prologue to the epigrams. Quinn made the case for that more balanced division of the liber Catulli. He also drew a correspondence between Cornelius Nepos’ three volumes of world history, ‘‘learned and labored’’ (doctis.. .et laboriosis, 1.7), and a hypothetical three-volume collected edition of Catullus’ poems, which the dedication to Nepos would have introduced (1972b: 9-20). In the last chapter of Clio’s Cosmetics, Wiseman espoused that solution, reinforcing it with the observation that one or more of the Muses would then receive mention in each of the three opening poems (1.9, <o> patrona uirgo, ‘‘patron virgin’’; 61.2, Uraniaegenus, ‘‘child of Urania’’; 65.2, doctis... uir-ginibus, ‘‘learned virgins’’). Furthermore, the continuity between the marriage theme as developed in the second book and its resumption in the elegies might give even more reason to suppose that these volumes were published together (1979: 176-9).
Catullus and His World: A Reappraisal contributed a more detailed sequential reading of the Lesbia poems. At the outset, Wiseman distinguishes between two stages of linear comprehension: ‘‘that of the first-time reader of the collection, recognising the ‘Lesbia’ relationship as a major theme and having his insight into it progressively developed as he proceeds; and that of the returning reader, who knows what comes afterwards, and can use his knowledge to pick up cross-references in both directions’’ (1985: 137). The stance he himself adopts is that of the first-time reader gradually learning more about Lesbia, and about Catullus’ psychological and emotional involvement with her. As the poems unfold, they tell a story of self-delusion and bleak realization. The cycle on Lesbia provides a narrative framework; the polymetrics from 28 to 60 reveal the scope of her degradation. In 68b, the most extended treatment of the love affair, Catullus gives full expression to his fantasies, casting his mistress as goddess and bride. The epigrams proceed to expose the futility of his hopes through a ‘‘long fugue of love, hate and self-justification’’ (p. 171). Near the end of the epigram collection, however, poem 107 surprisingly hints at reconciliation, and poem 109 appears to depict Lesbia at last ‘‘offering love on Catullus’ terms’’ (p. 174). The poet has therefore chosen to leave the story open-ended, something we as readers must accept. This is, of course, one man’s private construction of a ‘‘plot’’ (and one with which I would partly disagree), but it nevertheless shows again that sense can be made of the Lesbia poems read in order. We must ask ourselves, then, whether such an imaginative exercise was a task that Catullus the author might have set his readers. Would it have been possible for a Roman artist to have conceived of a poetry book laid out as a Borghesian ‘‘garden of forking paths,’’14 or, to use a more familiar analogy, a hypertext? That is a question that goes beyond the conventional debate over die Catullfrage.
World History
