Currently Reading: The Aeneid

The Aeneid, by Virgil
trans. Robert Fagles
Viking 2006

Although it’s often mentioned in the same sentence as the Iliad and the Odyssey, the Aeneid is different in three important ways. 1. It was written by a single person, rather than a succession of oral poets. 2. It is a deliberate attempt to glorify Caesar Augustus, by giving him a mythical origin. 3. The story and characters are not as captivating as in the Iliad and the Odyssey. But it hardly matters because the Aeneid is full of gods, soldiers, monsters, the undead, cities burning, and lovers standing in defiance of earth-shaking prophecies.

One of the joys of reading the Aeneid is hearing the rhythm of Virgil’s metaphors. Virgil will compose dozens of lines in stunning clarity, giving us the rigging of a warship, the chambers of Dido’s palace, or the festering of a bloody wound. And then, suddenly, the page will open into a grand Roman metaphor. When Neptune calms a stormy sea, Virgil compares him to a revered statesman wading into an unruly mob to pacify the people. When Aeneas has to make a difficult decision, Virgil offers an oak tree bending, from side to side, in a strong wind. Virgil’s balance of description and metaphor is masterful.

Roman epics are huge right now. Our foreign policy debates often refer to the Roman Empire. HBO is airing the second season of Rome, a dramatic series about the era in which Virgil composed the Aeneid. I had selfish reasons for reading the Aeneid, too—it gave me a deeper understanding of the Classical world, which is something I deal with in my day job. After following Aeneas across the Mediterranean in search of a home for his war-torn people, I would say the greatest similarity between the United States and the Roman Empire is this: we both love to watch our champions suffer.