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Trylogia rzymska #2
Овідій Назон - Поет
У романі відомого польського письменника, уродженця Львова Яцека Бохенського яскраво змальована трагічна доля ґеніального поета Публія Овідія Назона - творця "Любовних елегій", "Мистецтва кохання", "Засобів від кохання", славетних "Метаморфоз", "Скорботних елегій", "Листів з Понту" та інших творів.
216 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1969
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
November 27, 2022
Before reading this second book, I wondered why the author planned this Roman Trilogy with 2 rulers and a poet in the middle, instead of 3 rulers. Why Naso? Did Naso rule the Romans with his poetry? Was this why he was proclaimed "the greatest" by Bochenski? After finishing - pam-pa-pa! I realized this book was as much about Augustus and his time as about blaming the unfortunate poet that "national morals are in the gutter, young people do scandalous things, wives cheat on their husbands, there is a fashion for childlessness, Rome is wicked, this is the harvest of the poison sowed by your poetry. This is the result."
See how similar that is to other times - the author's time, and our time? Because "[...] none of us personally lives in the past, that is, in what was. It is only possible to understand the past (in which we are not) here and now (in which we are). And this understanding can only be expressed in the style and words given to us by our present. And thus, when I say “was,” that “was” has no perceptible existence. “Was” exists only insofar as I say it, and as a result of my saying it, this “was” suddenly appears to us here and now as “is.” Hence this important conclusion: there is no real difference between the past and the present. Ancient history is with us today."
There is a rhythm to poetry, and a rhythm to this trilogy - this second installment also comes in 3 parts. The first, "The Pulse, the Beat" I found charming, beautifully written, romantic, titillating and confusing. It took a while to realize its purpose - the fabric of Naso's writings turned into prose ("Where am I going to find material that does not lose its properties? That I can hold when everything changes, is commutative and non-specific? Oh, that is quite impossible, that’s not material enough.")
Afterwards, its purpose of understanding Naso's crimes becomes revealed.
"Moreover, it must be understood that poetry does not bear witness to the real world. Poetry must not be treated like that. Nec tamen ut testes mos est audire poetas... If what poetry says were taken literally, as a testimony to the world, then there would be Cerberus with three heads and a fur of snakes, Perseus would have winged legs, and Scylla would have dogs in her crotch, and poetry would be responsible for any and all atrocities and immoral acts. This is downright nonsensical. Poetic imagination knows no bounds, its creations are free and cannot be placed in any reality, and poets are not to be judged by their historical truthfulness. [...]
After all, Ovid was never haunted by the skeptical suspicion that history might have two contradictory courses, one appointed by the ruling god, the other by man’s antlike resistance, and that the writer, if he is a spokesman for history, must choose between these two orders. Ovid succumbed to the third order, which was unhistorical, abstract, and determined only by the logic of composition and rhythm. It was this order alone that guided his work. And it had something mathematical about it, even if it did not lack the charms of dancing. [...] it seemed that Ovid himself would have to arrive at his conclusions. He, however, absent from the epic, hidden behind mythology and hexameters, escaped from philosophy into poetic metaphors. He associated visions rather than thoughts because he was not looking for philosophical principles of being, and it was supposed to be like that, that had been his design from the beginning. He was captivated by strange ties of plots, chains of similar motifs, and various stories jokingly strung on the thread of the plot so that they could reflect each other. He combined them in chains, always differently, surprisingly, now denser, or funnier or sadder. So this river of metamorphoses, this epic universe, flowed, carrying event after event, human and divine passions, crimes, delights, deceptions, torments, battles, storms, landscapes, and lovers’ songs. And it twisted, shone, weightless, gliding, and played, melodious and colored, alive, sensual. It breathed, it undulated [...]"
And then, oh so subtly, the narration glides into history. Augustus and his times, his loves and HIS crimes are slowly revealed, in a rhythm, pulse and beat resonating closely to ours. I really admire this author's writing, which manages to put into words a fresco of the society and the politics while pretending to only talk about Naso. I can't resist quoting a few which I liked best, like:
"Certainly, Ovid was not a lover of simplicity, coarse ways of thinking, moral prejudices, god-fearing peasant life, hands ennobled by the handling of the plow and always ready to draw a sword in need. He hated all this ancient Roman stuff with its overrated virtues, constantly shoved down the young generations’ throats. He loved the urban civilization: like Messalla, that aristocrat by birth but radical by conviction. He loved the independence of thought and secularism of manners. With time, he did notice that this urban civilization, though still so very young, was already giving birth to something he hated even more, namely self-interested ways of thinking, a tendency to live like a merchant, a calculating contempt for everything that could not be exchanged for money or some other material possession. I cannot wear your poetry, Corinna once said. What a strange certainty that poetry has no value because it is intangible!"
or
"Are you supposed to lie? No worries . Jupiter accepts these things with good humor. As for gods, it would be beneficial to us should they exist, so let us believe they do. The general principles of morality must be followed: pay your debts, do not cheat, do not kill. Girls, on the other hand, you can deceive with impunity because the gods do it themselves, and there is nothing more just than punishing the wrongdoer with his own medicine. [...] I do not advise offering poetry. Ours is a truly golden age: only gold is valued, and without gifts, Homer himself will be shown the door."
[...] There is no way to cure the despicable selfishness of bullies, the vanity of these little people: they have to show off in front of an audience. [...]
[...] stick your head out of the litter— please cut it off— oh, I understand that, that was courage. I respected Cicero, they cut off his head indeed, but today , when I removed all terror, they write lampoons and practice demagoguery under the protection of the law. What sort of courage is this? [...] people with philosophical education, who thought that politics should be a moral choice when , in fact, it is a choice of means."
I hope these have intrigued you enough to pick up this book, which is not in the romance, paranormal, adventure or police thriller genre, but about the reasons a man who "due to the inherent and sinful qualities of poetry itself, he saw the true evil of the world and that, as a poet, he had to see it, even though he should not. Being a poet, he could not prevent it and, worse still, had to see these blasphemous truths for the most honest divine reasons, and yet— to his own detriment."
As a consequence, he died in despair, alone and abandoned, thinking "Almost everyone left me in the hour of my trial. Even a shadow accompanies a person as long as the sun shines. When the sun sets over someone, the shadow leaves him."
A final word: the author intends: "So, I propose a change, a reversal of the old pattern. Let’s have a known perpetrator but an unknown crime. Let’s look for the crime, not the culprit. The culprit is given, like the style and the time." But, like the translator says, he actually took the subject of the antique and projected it on current political and moral dilemmas.
You need to digest the text and draw your own pleasure in it, do not expect a clear-cut conclusion as to the one reason why Naso met his (unfair) fate, or to a crime he committed - its subject is history, its style is metaphor and its rhythm is poetic license.
See how similar that is to other times - the author's time, and our time? Because "[...] none of us personally lives in the past, that is, in what was. It is only possible to understand the past (in which we are not) here and now (in which we are). And this understanding can only be expressed in the style and words given to us by our present. And thus, when I say “was,” that “was” has no perceptible existence. “Was” exists only insofar as I say it, and as a result of my saying it, this “was” suddenly appears to us here and now as “is.” Hence this important conclusion: there is no real difference between the past and the present. Ancient history is with us today."
There is a rhythm to poetry, and a rhythm to this trilogy - this second installment also comes in 3 parts. The first, "The Pulse, the Beat" I found charming, beautifully written, romantic, titillating and confusing. It took a while to realize its purpose - the fabric of Naso's writings turned into prose ("Where am I going to find material that does not lose its properties? That I can hold when everything changes, is commutative and non-specific? Oh, that is quite impossible, that’s not material enough.")
Afterwards, its purpose of understanding Naso's crimes becomes revealed.
"Moreover, it must be understood that poetry does not bear witness to the real world. Poetry must not be treated like that. Nec tamen ut testes mos est audire poetas... If what poetry says were taken literally, as a testimony to the world, then there would be Cerberus with three heads and a fur of snakes, Perseus would have winged legs, and Scylla would have dogs in her crotch, and poetry would be responsible for any and all atrocities and immoral acts. This is downright nonsensical. Poetic imagination knows no bounds, its creations are free and cannot be placed in any reality, and poets are not to be judged by their historical truthfulness. [...]
After all, Ovid was never haunted by the skeptical suspicion that history might have two contradictory courses, one appointed by the ruling god, the other by man’s antlike resistance, and that the writer, if he is a spokesman for history, must choose between these two orders. Ovid succumbed to the third order, which was unhistorical, abstract, and determined only by the logic of composition and rhythm. It was this order alone that guided his work. And it had something mathematical about it, even if it did not lack the charms of dancing. [...] it seemed that Ovid himself would have to arrive at his conclusions. He, however, absent from the epic, hidden behind mythology and hexameters, escaped from philosophy into poetic metaphors. He associated visions rather than thoughts because he was not looking for philosophical principles of being, and it was supposed to be like that, that had been his design from the beginning. He was captivated by strange ties of plots, chains of similar motifs, and various stories jokingly strung on the thread of the plot so that they could reflect each other. He combined them in chains, always differently, surprisingly, now denser, or funnier or sadder. So this river of metamorphoses, this epic universe, flowed, carrying event after event, human and divine passions, crimes, delights, deceptions, torments, battles, storms, landscapes, and lovers’ songs. And it twisted, shone, weightless, gliding, and played, melodious and colored, alive, sensual. It breathed, it undulated [...]"
And then, oh so subtly, the narration glides into history. Augustus and his times, his loves and HIS crimes are slowly revealed, in a rhythm, pulse and beat resonating closely to ours. I really admire this author's writing, which manages to put into words a fresco of the society and the politics while pretending to only talk about Naso. I can't resist quoting a few which I liked best, like:
"Certainly, Ovid was not a lover of simplicity, coarse ways of thinking, moral prejudices, god-fearing peasant life, hands ennobled by the handling of the plow and always ready to draw a sword in need. He hated all this ancient Roman stuff with its overrated virtues, constantly shoved down the young generations’ throats. He loved the urban civilization: like Messalla, that aristocrat by birth but radical by conviction. He loved the independence of thought and secularism of manners. With time, he did notice that this urban civilization, though still so very young, was already giving birth to something he hated even more, namely self-interested ways of thinking, a tendency to live like a merchant, a calculating contempt for everything that could not be exchanged for money or some other material possession. I cannot wear your poetry, Corinna once said. What a strange certainty that poetry has no value because it is intangible!"
or
"Are you supposed to lie? No worries . Jupiter accepts these things with good humor. As for gods, it would be beneficial to us should they exist, so let us believe they do. The general principles of morality must be followed: pay your debts, do not cheat, do not kill. Girls, on the other hand, you can deceive with impunity because the gods do it themselves, and there is nothing more just than punishing the wrongdoer with his own medicine. [...] I do not advise offering poetry. Ours is a truly golden age: only gold is valued, and without gifts, Homer himself will be shown the door."
[...] There is no way to cure the despicable selfishness of bullies, the vanity of these little people: they have to show off in front of an audience. [...]
[...] stick your head out of the litter— please cut it off— oh, I understand that, that was courage. I respected Cicero, they cut off his head indeed, but today , when I removed all terror, they write lampoons and practice demagoguery under the protection of the law. What sort of courage is this? [...] people with philosophical education, who thought that politics should be a moral choice when , in fact, it is a choice of means."
I hope these have intrigued you enough to pick up this book, which is not in the romance, paranormal, adventure or police thriller genre, but about the reasons a man who "due to the inherent and sinful qualities of poetry itself, he saw the true evil of the world and that, as a poet, he had to see it, even though he should not. Being a poet, he could not prevent it and, worse still, had to see these blasphemous truths for the most honest divine reasons, and yet— to his own detriment."
As a consequence, he died in despair, alone and abandoned, thinking "Almost everyone left me in the hour of my trial. Even a shadow accompanies a person as long as the sun shines. When the sun sets over someone, the shadow leaves him."
A final word: the author intends: "So, I propose a change, a reversal of the old pattern. Let’s have a known perpetrator but an unknown crime. Let’s look for the crime, not the culprit. The culprit is given, like the style and the time." But, like the translator says, he actually took the subject of the antique and projected it on current political and moral dilemmas.
You need to digest the text and draw your own pleasure in it, do not expect a clear-cut conclusion as to the one reason why Naso met his (unfair) fate, or to a crime he committed - its subject is history, its style is metaphor and its rhythm is poetic license.
February 19, 2023
Naso the Poet is a brilliant novel about Ovid's changing fate, which also contains insightful reflections on the nature of history and power. The reader may sometimes feel lost: ubi accidit, oh, sorry - where it happened?, but the storyteller or rather the announcer (a somewhat ambiguous figure), ensures us “that the question of what city I mean is really not important”.
As the action develops, we are invited to participate in an investigation. What is to be inquired? We, the readers, along with the announcer (an ambiguous guy, indeed) are looking for guilt, knowing ahead who is guilty, and while the sentence has already been passed.
As the action develops, we are invited to participate in an investigation. What is to be inquired? We, the readers, along with the announcer (an ambiguous guy, indeed) are looking for guilt, knowing ahead who is guilty, and while the sentence has already been passed.
February 10, 2023
I share with the author not only my first name, but also my passion for antiquity. I have admired him ever since I consciously read literature. Bocheński combines elements of the novel and the essay into a completely new genre. This is brilliant, intelligent prose! It's great that the book is finally published in English! Outstanding publication!
November 3, 2020
Непогана панорама хитросплетінь жаби і гадюки, перепрошую любові і моралі, мистецтва та влади Риму часів Авґуста. Наче і пізнавально, але є й відчуття "нащо це все?"
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews