#my prof actually was the one who pointed out that aeneas never seems to really get over creusa's death does he

[wildkitte]

Aeneas and Creusa

As much as there is discourse on Aeneas’ part in Creusa’s disappearance, it is made clear that Creusa was indeed important to Aeneas (this is what I will personally fight Perkell on, even when I find her other opinions on the topic to be fascinating). Not only is there the mad dash to the burning city (“I’m determined to incur every risk again, and retrace all Troy and once more expose my life to danger”) and the admittance of this being “the cruellest sight” in all of the destruction of the city (her absence), but also some little details like word choices and intertextual references. So let’s talk about my favourite Aeneid couple for a moment.

(Here I use Austin’s commentary as my main source.)

I spoke a little of Aeneas and Creusa’s parallels to Orpheus and Eurydice in my first post – Creusa’s name being ‘Eurydica’ in some versions is the most obvious clue, but Creusa’s loss mirrors the way Orpheus loses Eurydice. The commentary of today’s email had a good interpretation of this parallel: they’re a bit of a reverse Orpheus and Eurydice, Aeneas loses Creusa because he doesn’t look back. But a direct parallel can also be drawn – technically Aeneas does not lose Creusa until he looks behind. There are also textual references to Vergil’s Georgics, like how Orpheus and Creusa both call their spouses “dulcis coniunx” (Aen. 2.777 and Georg. 4.465), and like i.e., Austin’s commentary points out, this is certainly no accident.

I also find the repetition (of Creusa’s name and the iterumque iterumque vocavi I mentioned in the last post) in the passage where Aeneas searches for her interesting. This reminds me of the last passage of Orpheus and Eurydice part in Georgics: Eurydicen toto referebant flumine ripae (‘Eurydice’ echoed the banks all along the river; 4.527), the theme of calling out for the lost wife’s name, all in vain. I don’t really have too much to say about this parallel in particular more than this (I haven’t perused Georgics closely enough to dare a further interpretation/comparison, but if someone else has please let me know your thoughts). Truly this interpretation of them, as repeating the tragedy of Orpheus and Eurydice, makes these two all the more dear to me.

But let’s talk about those vocabulary choices now!

Every once in a while, Vergil does this interesting register change from the language of the epic to Roman comedy. This happens a couple times in scenes featuring Creusa. In 2.739, erravitne via seu lassa resedit (did she stray from the path or sit down in exhaustion), Austin directs the focus to lassus, tired. Outside of comedy, it is rarer than fessus (though it has been used by other authors like Horace, Ennius, Lucretius, Cato and Catullus). Another example of uses of Roman comedy’s vocabulary is in Creusa’s line to Aeneas in 2.786: aut Grais servitum matribus ibo (nor will I end up as the slave of Greek matrons). Here Vergil uses a supine, servitum, that is more common in colloquial and early Latin, being especially common with Plautus. Austin’s interpretation is that this register switch, from epic Latin to a more colloquial level, makes Aeneas and Creusa seem more relatable to the audience. The conversation, with its grounded vocabulary, communicates to the Latin-speaking audience a sense of familiarity: this couple is just like us, and they talk like married couples do. The casual language communicates affection.

Creusa’s speech is overall really sweet, with her calls of “sweet husband” and trying to console him in his immense grief and finally the request to protect the love for their child. My favourite line here is lacrimas dilectae pelle Creusae (banish your tears for your beloved Creusa; Verg. Aen. 2.784) and Austin has something to say about the adjective dilectus. This is also a bit of a rare word in the Aeneid, it appears three* times in total: Sychaeus is dilectus (1.344) as he is loved by Dido, and Atys is called dilectus (5.468) in relation to Iulus (poeroque puer dilectus Iulo, boyish love of the boy Iulus…whatever that means in this context), and of course here in Creusa’s speech. Dilectus is used to emphasize an especially warm and deep relationship between the characters.

One could, and will, make the observation that in Aeneas’ telling, Creusa calls herself dilecta, that she is the one who calls Aeneas dulcis coniunx – but here I think it is useful to remember that Aeneas is also the one narrating this. He may be putting words in his wife’s mouth, but he is the one choosing to speak of their marriage in these terms. Her loss is devastating (I bring up vidi crudelius again) and Aeneas never utters her name again in the rest of the epic (though Andromache mentions her, and Ascanius namedrops her in Book IX). I think that Creusa’s loss haunts the relationships he has with women in the future – he can never give himself or his love fully, as it was lost like a light breeze, a winged dream.

(Btw, Sarah Ruden translates ‘lacrimas dilectae pelle Creusae’ as ‘so weep no longer, though you love me’. Devastating. Sobbing inconsolably. Never the same again.)

Tomorrow, I’ll talk about divine Creusa and also why you should be a little unwell about her too.

*later edit: i actually made a mistake here, it does appear more than three times - perhaps i was thinking of those three times as an epithet for a person