Our extant examples of Roman invective show that the same individual could be attacked in very different and sometimes contradictory ways. Publius Clodius Pul-cher, for example, one of Cicero’s favorite targets, is accused of effeminacy (Har. Resp. 44, Sest. 116), incest (Dom. 26, 92, Sest. 16-17), and homosexual prostitution (Har. Resp. 42, 59), as well as consorting with prostitutes (Mil. 55) and other men’s wives (Dom. 118, 134-5, 139). This fact, together with the ubiquitous nature of the invective loci and Cicero’s labeling of this rhetorical practice as ‘‘a kind of rule of prosecution’’ (Cic. Mur. 11), has led many scholars to question the veracity of such accusations. Ronald Syme, for example, in a much cited passage declares: ‘‘Crime, vice and corruption in the last age of the republic are embodied in types as perfect of their kind as are the civic and moral paragons of early days; which is fitting, for the evil and the good are both the fabrication of skilled literary artists’’ (Syme 1939: 149).
And Nisbet (1961: 193) in his commentary on In Pisonem maintains that Roman invective ‘‘often shows more regard for literary convention than for historical truth.’’ To what extent then did the audience actually believe the often colorful accusations that formed the core of Roman invective? Craig (2004: 194) suggests that the formal invective of the courtroom must have been at least plausible since it was designed to prove the opponent’s proclivity toward criminal behavior. Outside the courtroom, however, matters were rather different: here it was the ritual of public humiliation that counted. In this context the speaker as well as his rhetorically educated audience were ‘‘not concerned with the plausibility, much less the actual validity, of specific assertions.’’ Nevertheless, it is likely that plausibility added to the persuasive power of invective (see Corbeill 1996: 5; Corbeill 2002b: 198-9). As Craig (2004: 196) concludes, ‘‘[r]ather than saying that the truth of invective allegations is irrelevant, we may more accurately say that it is of secondary importance.’’ Indeed invective relies a good deal on its ability to exploit the audience’s moral prejudices. As Richlin (19922: 97-8) and Corbeill (1996: 128-69) have shown, the accusations of effeminacy and passive homosexuality launched at Clodius tell us less about his morals than they do about Roman attitudes toward male sexual submission. Regardless of Clo-dius’ real inclinations in the bedroom, the crude accusations succeed in depicting him as a violator of the mos maiorum and a threat to ‘‘decent’’ society. And if it is true that attacks on sexually deviant behavior depended upon the existence of visible evidence, in such cases the expert orator was often able to highlight and elaborate this evidence for his own ends. Indeed it might be said that truth becomes what the orator describes. His vivid depictions of events ostensibly furnish the proof that the accusation requires.
World History
